November, 1916
The sky was smeared with black and grey-blue, the darkness not even pierced by the light of the thin crescent moon that did not shine silver as it usually did. The late evening was windless and quiet. Usually, no one would be hanging around this area. The only sound that was heard was the scrapping of boots across the ground.
Budapest reached out and felt the gash on his abdomen. He hissed as his fingers came in contact with the wound, and a sharp pain went up his body. Moaning in pain, he dragged himself forward and lifted his hand. It was painted with his blood. He smirked slightly. That was the blood of a central of Austria-Hungary, a high-set empire which he wanted to bring down, even though he and his own sibling were a part of it.
So much for success. For him, he did not share the victory of capturing Bucharest with the Central Powers. Not when he had more important things to worry about. He had tried to point that out to his sister many times, but to her, Austria's joy was her joy. And that was that. There was no talking her out of it.
Sighing, Budapest pushed away that thought to the corner of his mind. He went up a familiar path and soon, a small, slightly rundown house came into sight. Taking in a deep breath of heavy night air, he limped forward and knocked the door. Breathing heavily, he tried to be patient. But the pain was becoming more unbearable and he thought that he would collapse sooner or later if Vienna did not open the door.
"Marcell!" Vienna snapped. "Wh-…" the other broke off when he saw Budapest's beaten, blood-covered self. Budapest let out a small, sarcastic smile.
"Hello, Robert," Budapest murmured. "It appeared that it was not such a success as the others thought…"
Without letting the other to continue, Vienna threw Budapest's arms across his shoulders and carried him to the living room, closing the front door with his foot. As the two of them moved, Budapest's blood began to seep into Vienna's shirt, staining it red. Ignoring the dampness and stickiness of Budapest's blood, Vienna slowly heaved his friend onto the couch and slowly positioned him upright. Vienna then dashed up the stairs and came back down with rolls of bandages, a basin of water and towels. He kneeled down and soaked a towel into the water. Vienna wrung out the excess water and gingerly dabbed it against Budapest's wounds. Budapest moaned.
"Sorry, Marcell," Vienna murmured.
"No, no, it's okay," Budapest replied softly as he clenched his teeth.
As Vienna tended to Budapest's wounds, he asked, "So what happened?"
Budapest sighed. "Romania was angry at Austria and Hungary. T-they seized Bucharest. Even if they captured him, there isn't much supply of food left. I-I helped, but…"
Vienna scoffed as he cut off some bandages. "Austria was just using you and Hungary. You know he's just after the things you have."
Budapest nodded. "But my sister can't bear to leave him… She loves him, but…" a tear rolled down Budapest's cheek and dropped onto his ripped trousers. "She won't listen to me. N-now, we don't have food to feed our people…"
Vienna was silent as he wrapped up Budapest's legs with bandages. He had always known that the marriage between Austria and Hungary was of one purpose: to give Austria more power. That made him sick. Vienna never exactly got along with his brother, but now Roderich had crossed the line. He had used Hungary and Budapest, using their food supplies, leaving not much for their own people. This, Vienna thought, was why he left his brother since the marriage.
"Take off your jacket," Vienna instructed. Budapest undid his bloodstained military jacket, exposing his wound. Licking his dry lips, Vienna dampened the bandages and wrapped them around the ugly gash on Budapest's abdomen. Budapest hissed in pain, and Vienna felt his chest ache.
"So what are you going to do now?" Vienna asked as he pulled the bandage across Budapest's body. "How are you going to feed your people?"
"Hungary asked Britain and France for their help," Budapest said. "But they refused to help her, after helping Germany. You know they hate Germany."
"I see," Vienna murmured grimly.
There was a silence as Vienna began tying the end of the bandage. The sound of their breathing seemed deafening. Budapest took in a loud breath of air.
"Robert, how long do you think they'll last?"
"Who?"
"Austria and Hungary."
Vienna was silent. He closed his eyes before opening them again. He sighed.
"I don't know, Marcell. I don't know."
1918
"Marcell!"
Budapest turned around and saw a familiar figure run up to him. "Robert!"
Vienna was panting as he came up. His forehead was dotted with sweat and strands of his wild, dark brown hair was stuck to his cheeks, evidencing that he had been running. Hands on his knees, he looked up.
"Marcell, I expect you heard of the strikes."
Budapest nodded. He had heard of the factory strikes in his home as well as Vienna. Vienna smirked. He held out a hand.
"Care to join?"
Budapest was taken rather aback by the sudden offer.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about!" Vienna stood upright, the creases of his shirt straightened. He grabbed Budapest's arm. "This, this is the first step to bringing down Austria and Hungary! This is our chance to end this empire and free ourselves from their troubles!"
"B-but," Budapest stammered. "Is it really okay to charge forward like that? I mean, what if…"
"Forget it!" Vienna interrupted him. "It's either now or never! Let's bring down this empire!"
The thought hit Budapest. He thought of that time when he was left with nothing to feed his people. The pain and guilt he felt was incomparable to his wounds. All this time under Austria and Hungary… this was the chance to end it. His green eyes met Vienna's violet gaze and he nodded with determination.
"Let's bring them down."
31st October was a day Budapest and Vienna would never forget.
Hungary divorced Austria.
That night Budapest and Vienna celebrated in a bar, chugging down beer after beer and returning home happily drunk. They thought the divorce would end their problems and they did not have to worry too much.
Or so they thought.
After the divorce problems arose in Austria. Vienna heard it was problems with the other countries, but whatever it was Vienna found himself being loaded with more work to do. One day, he was asked to review a document, which was a list of suggestions made to rebuild the shaking Austria.
Meanwhile, Budapest had to help his sister with rebuilding the country and land. It was tiring. Budapest had no idea that they lost so much.
It wasn't too long later that the two met again. They were in the bar, drinking the quiet, eventless night away. Vienna slammed his mug on the counter, ignoring the annoyed 'tsk' the bartender aimed at him.
"What the shit is this about?" he lashed out in his drunken state. "First, there was Austria-Hungary. Now, I have to deal with the gottverdamned shit of building Austria!"
Budapest held back a sigh. "Same here. We lost a lot during the time of Austria-Hungary…"
Vienna gulped down more beer. "We lost a hell lot all right. Now…" he smirked. "Are you regretful?"
Just a simple 'yes and no' question like that had sucked the life out of Budapest. Yes, he wanted freedom. Yes, he despised Austria-Hungary. Yes, he rebelled for his freedom. Yes, he got what he wanted. But, now, was it really what he wanted? Now detached from each other, Austria and Hungary had to stand as independent republics. Could they stay upright? Could they manage? Could they get back what he lost?
Budapest lifted his head and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He turned to Vienna, whose eyebrows were lifted expectantly for an answer.
"Nincs," Budapest replied, orchestrating present lies he would take back on his lips.