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Another explosion rocked the city. The Soviets were drawing ever closer. The once lively streets of Budapest were now tattered with rubble. Every so often men, women and children would be spotted running away from the chaos, the old, the young, the sick and the frail. Some would be seen alone. Some would be seen in family units. Some would have bags and other possessions. Some would have nothing but the clothes on their back. All bore the same expression of hopelessness, of defeat. Hungary staggered over to the nearest bench and collapsed. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she dared glance at the wound on her side, nasty stuff. Blood was seeping down her leg and her arm was painted red where she'd been holding it. She sighed and closed her eyes, too tired to even curse anyone for her trouble.
She sat there for a while just breathing in and out, eyes sealed shut, as more Soviet artillery ravaged her beloved city. She wanted to fight for her home but what good would it do? Now Russia was unstoppable and the war was lost. If anyone thought otherwise they were just plain deluded. Unfortunately Germany and his bosses seemed to be plain deluded. Rushed footsteps on the streets in front of her then broke her train of thought.
„Halten die Sowjetischen Bastarde wo sie sind!" One of them shouted.
Hungary opened her eyes to glance at them. It was just a bunch of SS nutjobs. They paid her no heed as they ran off towards the frontlines. Good riddance. Hopefully Russia would slaughter the lot of them. Actually it would be preferable if they blew each other apart.
How did it get like this? How did blood line her streets? How did she get caught between fanatics and psychopaths?
A was a dreary French corridor, Hungary reflected, rather bland considering France's love for extravagant beauty yet it completely fitted the atmosphere. Faint mumbling could be heard from the room nearby. She could identify who was talking, mainly Britain and France but sometimes America and a few others, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. They seemed to be disagreeing which given Britain and France's history was hardly a surprise. Hungary hummed to herself in an attempt to lighten the mood but it wasn't very effective.
She turned to the man next to her; he hadn't stopped staring at the floor since they arrived. His expression of more than worry, it was despair.
"Mr Austria?" She placed her hand on his and squeezed lightly. He darted to attention and blinked at her several times. She gave him a smile, one which she hoped said 'everything will be OK'. He returned it but his eyes told a different story to the smile. "We'll be fine," she told him.
Austria sighed and looked away. "This is all my fault, I'm sorry."
"You've apologised enough. It isn't all your fault, we've been through this. Everyone holds some blame. You never told Germany to attack France and Belgium. You never declared war on Britain or Italy or anyone first. You never knew this would happen," she stroked his arm to try and comfort him.
"Serbia," he muttered, "I attacked Serbia. You tried to stop me but I did it anyway. If they take anything from you, it'll be my fault."
"Just shhh now," she squeezed him tighter.
"I've been a lousy fighter. You've always had to do everything for me."
"I think you're selling yourself a bit short there."
"I just lost to Italy, for God's sake. Italy! I raised that boy and now I had to fight him in the greatest war there's ever been! Why on earth did he turn on me like that?"
It was a relief when another figure walked in just as Austria seemed about to break down in her arms.
"Err hello?" A mob of silvery blond hair appeared besides them.
"Prussia," she nodded at him. Austria straightened up immediately. "Why are you here?"
The Albino man cleared his throat. "Well, it's just that I had my one of these a while ago and I heard you guys were going to have the same thing today so I just had to check in. See if, you know, it's all OK," he seemed to have trouble admitting to his reasons for being there.
"We're fine. You can go away now," Austria told him.
"Geez Austi-jerk, I didn't have to do this you know. West is still at home moping around because of how close we were."
Hungary groaned, "Please don't fight now. I am not in the mood to smash both your heads together."
"He started it!" Prussia whined.
"I don't care, just stop." Hungary held her head in her arms. "Prussia, I appreciate you coming over and so does Mr Austria really." Austria snorted so she elbowed his ribs.
"Danke, that's all I needed," Prussia crossed his arms and smiled. "Are you guys-" he began but was cut off.
"Unacceptable! Just like with Germany!" Britain's voice suddenly bellowed from the next room. More mumbling followed but she could have sworn she heard America say something which sounded like "too harsh". This was not giving her any optimism.
The door finally opened and the mumbling died down. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Belgium was holding the door open. "We're ready for you now." As Austria and Hungary rose, her expression stiffened suddenly as she noticed Prussia. "What are you doing here?" she asked him coldly.
"Nothing," Prussia replied while scratching the back of his head. He turned to Hungary, "I, er, I should go."
"You should," Belgium agreed.
"Good luck," Prussia said as he turned away.
Hungary waved him farewell as she entered the room. It was vast and just as foreboding as the corridor outside. Belgium led them to the centre of the room and gestured for them to sit in two wooden chairs. The chairs were facing a platform and on that platform sat the victors of this war. In the centre sat Britain, France and America. Dotted along were other countries which had been on their side of the conflict. She briefly made eye contact with a grinning Serbia and her blood boiled, desperate to wipe that smirk off his face.
As Belgium took her seat, Britain shuffled through some papers in front of him. He looked weary, in fact they all did. Everyone except from America anyway. Instead America looked rather bored as though there were somewhere else he'd rather be. He kept fiddling with a pencil in front of him and making faces as he looked around the room. He notably kept looking just about everywhere other than at Austria or herself. Now she thought about it Britain also seemed to be avoiding eye contact with the pair of them. Either that or those papers were very, very interesting. Of the three in the centre only France could hold her gaze. He looked far worse off than Britain, his blond hair was dirty and unkempt and scratches covered his face and hands.
"Ah-hem," France began. Only now did Hungary notice that the place felt like a court room, they were being trialled and sentenced. "If you'd please hand them the terms?"
She was confused for the briefest of moments when there seemed to be a second America handing her and Austria pieces of paper before she remembered this was Canada. With an intake of breath she glanced down at what was written in front of her and her world came tumbling down. "I-I no! You can't do this!"
Besides her Austria choked as he read it and let out a quiet whimper.
"God damn it, France," Britain buried his face in his hands.
"It is a bit much…" America looked at them both for the first time, sympathy clearly showing.
"Bah!" France snapped at them, "You two! Too soft to know what must be done! It is easy for you both to talk of such things when you live on an island or an entirely different continent. The war never came to your lands. It never ravaged your beautiful country."
"It hit ours pretty hard and we get this on top of it!" Hungary stood up and waved the treaty at them. "70% of my land gone! 70%!" She looked at it again. "Romania!? I'm supposed to give away land to Romania!? That jackass barely did anything and when he did, I smashed him into the last century!"
"He gets points for trying though," Britain still didn't glance up at her.
"No. We're not agreeing to this, are we Mr Austria?" There was no response from the other half of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. "Mr Austria?" She turned to Austria to find him still transfixed by the treaty in front of him. She bent down next to him and caressed his face. "Mr Austria?" She asked again, more gently this time. It was horrible to see Austria, her Austria, like this. A man so proud and so strict, yet so loving when he needed to be, like this. A broken shell of the man she knew.
"I-it's all gone, my entire empire. Everything I worked on for centuries. I've lost everything. I've lost you." He pointed at one of the clauses. Austria and Hungary were to be independent nations once more and forbidden from unifying ever again. She felt herself shake with anger and sorrow.
"What gives you the right?" She asked the room in quiet fury. "WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO SPLIT US APART?!"
"We won the war," Serbia stated with a shrug.
"Oh, you won the war did you, Serbia? That's funny as I remember pounding your face into the ground. If it wasn't for Russia and those two," she gestured at Britain and France, "I'd have destroyed you. I'd have torn down the entire God Damn Balkans!"
"Dude, calm down!" America held out his hands.
"I will not calm down!" Hungary yelled at him. "Why are you even here anyway? You think you can waltz in here right at the end and claim you had any part in this?! You haven't earned your place here!"
"Hey, I was trying to get you a better deal!" America protested.
Hungary's rage continued and she pointed at the next random country to take her anger out on, which just happened to be Japan. "You!? What did you even do?"
Japan looked awkwardly at the other countries. "Well, I assisted Mr Britain in-"
Hungary interrupted him with a snort. "Oh, you 'assisted' Mr Britain did you? Truly the course of the war hinged on your actions!"
A hand was placed on her shoulder, Austria's hand. "Please, stop?" It wasn't an order, it was a request.
Hungary held her head down low. "They can't do this to you, to us," her voice dropped several decibels.
"We can," France interrupted. "You are in no position to negotiate."
"Damn you," she muttered as she collapsed in her chair. "Damn you all."
"I should begin moving my stuff out tonight," she told Austria once they were outside.
He nodded, "prolonging it would simply make it harder."
"Oh Austria, this isn't how it was supposed to end," she was now fighting back tears. This is ridicules, crying is for wimps and little girls. She never cried.
"No, it wasn't," he agreed. They both stared at each other for a while, neither daring to talk.
"I'm just saying that if you actually listened to me, you'd be a lot better off," Britain was saying from behind a corner.
"No, you'd be a lot better off, I'd just be another of your lackeys," America replied.
"Hold on," she told Austria and marched off in pursuit of their voices.
"Do you see me as some sort of evil puppet master? Skilfully manipulating the world for my own gain?"
"I wouldn't say skilfully but-"
"Hey!" Hungary interrupted them.
"Oh no, I'm telling you it's too late to change anything," Britain told her.
"Please it can't be."
"I feel for your plight, we both do, but you must understand this is the best we could do," Britain explained.
"This is the best you can do?" Hungary waved the treaty in front of their faces.
"You did not want to see what France originally proposed," America shook his head.
"Miss Hungary, I've lost more of my boys to the battlefields of that war than you or Austria. 886,939 to be precise and yes I remember that exact number. Add in the casualties of my Empire and I've lost more than the both of you combined. Explain how I, an apparent 'victor', could lose more than you? France was hit even worse and he is far more angry than I have ever seen him and we go way back him and I. There must be repercussions. Whether I agree with the current terms or not, I recognise the need for punishment and to prevent there ever being another war on this scale again," Britain said.
"But I didn't want this war! I tried to stop Mr Austria attacking Serbia, I did!"
"So we should punish Austria instead of you?" Britain rose one of his large brows.
"No! That's not what I meant!"
"I know," Britain nodded. "I don't think anyone wanted this war."
"I dunno, you should see all that money I got from selling all that crap to you and France," America smiled. Both Britain and Hungary glared at him. "Maybe later then."
"Much later," Britain snarled.
"Anyway, I'm done with this Euro-crap. Next time you guys starting killing each other, I'm not running over to help," America said as he started to walk off.
"Wait you're leaving?" Britain held out his hand. "I thought you were going to stay and help out?"
America shrugged. "Maybe I'll send a little money over."
"Fine! Go retreat to your little cowboy world with your fingers in your ears! You'll regret it! Mark my words!"
She pulled Britain's arm to grab his attention once more. "Just imagine if you'd lost this war and had a treaty like this one thrown in your face. How would you feel?"
"I would be heart broken," he replied truthfully as he pried her grasp off of his arm. "I'm sorry," he said and marched off in the same direction as America.
She went back to find Austria but he'd gone. After a quick check around the building and asking if anyone had seen him, she decided he must have gone back to their home, to his home, not hers. This wasn't going to be easy. She and Austria had been together for centuries now even if he'd only recently started paying her the attention she'd wanted. Yet amongst all the darkness there was even the slightest glimmer of excitement. She would be doing things for herself again. Perhaps it wouldn't quite be the old times, on horseback, bow in hand, hunting for straggling Turks, but a faint whiff of nostalgia hit her as she remembered the Hungarian forests she loved so much.
"Why are you smiling, you little wrench?" France was glaring at her suspiciously.
"Oh nothing."
"Good, you have nothing to be happy about," he sniffed and walked off.
She resisted the urge to crack his skull open with her frying pan. When had he become such a jerk? He was always a little whiney and his creepy attempts at wooing her in the past had left a bad taste in her mouth but he had never seemed quite as cruel as he did today. One thing was for certain though, if he'd treated the Germans anywhere near as badly as he'd treated her, Prussia would be every bit as willing to kill the Frenchman as she was and Prussia was a lot less restrained than her. Maybe this wasn't as over as everyone had hoped.
A/N: So yeah, hope France isn't too douchbaggy here but remember whose POV it is. Actually when it came to Austria-Hungary it was America who had a raging hard on for destroying the Empire not so much France but in all other respects the harshness of the treaties came from France. America didn't much care what happened in Europe and Britain wanted to keep the defeated powers strong enough to resist France in case they were backstabbed, even after being allies in the biggest war there'd ever been Britain and France didn't trust each other. I'm also aware that the treaties for Austria and Hungary actually took place a while apart from one another but for story telling purposes they're going on together ;) pop me a review if you'd please or a PM if you actually want to talk about this... or anything really... talking to strangers on the internet is a lot of fun