Title: The Art of Fading Away

Author: AoiTsukikage

Rating: PG-13, maybe.

Characters: Austria, Prussia. Maybe Austria/Prussia if you have your slash goggles on.

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 1952

Summary: "I just…don't understand why I'm here. If there's nothing left for me, why not let me go?"

"Maybe you're not quite finished yet. And maybe…maybe it's because there are those who would miss you if you suddenly weren't around."

Disclaimer: I don't own them, of course. I just like to borrow characters and have my way with them before returning them to their rightful owner xP

The Art of Fading Away

Austria registered the sound of the house door being flung violently open, but since he was currently in the middle of Chopin's Nocturne in F# Major, a rather challenging piece even by his standards, he wasn't about to interrupt the song merely to see who the intruder was.

Hungary was home, after all, and he was more than happy to let her deal with whomever it was. Aside from that, he already had a fairly good idea of who it was, because nobody entered a house like that…except for him.

"Oi! Roddy!"

And look, he was right! He continued to ignore the loud intrusion as he reached the climax of the song, hands flying over the keys at a pace almost too fast to see until the last page, slowing down considerably and milking the melody for all it was worth until fading back down into silence.

The last notes hung in the still air of the large room, reverberating until finally the space was cloaked in silence, and Austria opened his eyes and looked up, not surprised to see the man perched on top of his piano (part of him wished he'd taken the time to raise the lid, now, but he had only intended on playing the one song before going back to do some paperwork), leaning over the edge and regarding him with ruby eyes.

"You haven't, by chance, heard of a remarkably simply concept known as knocking, have you?" he asked, a tad snobbishly, although he knew his tone would have absolutely no effect on the visitor.

"Knocking's for wimps," was the predictable reply as the man reached over and tapped a random note, only years of being yelled at keeping him from hitting it too hard. "Besides, the awesome me shouldn't have to announce himself every time he wants to come for a visit."

"You're here at a rather bad time," Austria unceremoniously closed the lid over the keyboard, making the man yank his hand back to avoid getting caught in it. "We have a meeting of the nations tomorrow and Elizaveta and I must prepare."

"You lot meet all the time. I don't think you really discuss anything; I think it's just a chance for you to schmooze."

"Be that as it may, it is still my obligation to be there," he picked up the music and held it carefully, making sure that the other man wouldn't crumple the sheets. "And despite the apparent disdain you have for these meetings, I personally think you're merely upset that you're never invited."

"Meh, why would I care? After all, I know for a fact that nothing can be awesome without the awesome me, so go ahead and leave me out," he lay back on the lid of the piano, hooking one leg over his other knee and staring at the ceiling. "Go to your meeting."

"Get off of my piano."

"Aw, is Roddy worried I'm going to wreck his wittle piano…"

"For the last time, Gilbert, my name is Roderich. I know your sole purpose in life seems to be annoying me, but I'm not in the mood," he looked back at Prussia, lounging and looking completely disinclined to move, and he shook his head and decided to leave him be.

"Oi! Don't walk away from me!" Prussia rushed after him, although Austria mostly ignored him because he was deep in thought.

He'd known for a while now that Prussia wasn't nearly as okay with the whole 'dead country' situation as he pretended to be; at least, ever since that tearful phone call the ex-nation had left him last Christmas (that he later denied ever doing. Vehemently.) about being alone. However, with the time they'd spent since then, the chance to talk about it hadn't cropped up.

But he supposed that the constant loneliness and feeling of being left out would eventually annoy even somebody as inherent stubborn as Prussia, and he couldn't blame him. Truth was, he would miss the rather infuriating man if one day he just…disappeared like Rome had done. But he was never going to tell the pale man that. Not a chance.

"You really must stop denying that phone call. It's not weak to admit that you get lonely at times," Austria said gently, and Prussia rolled his eyes.

"Wasn't me; I keep telling you that."

"Really, because I had Ludwig listen to the message and he seems to agree…"

"Hang on, West heard it? Oh, crap…"

Austria smirked, turning and staring at the shorter man with a smile.

"You tricked me. I hate you."

"So you've said," he walked over to the sofa in the parlour they'd entered and sat on one end, flinching as Prussia flopped beside him, swinging his feet up and resting them quite comfortably on Austria's lap. "Gilbert, please."

Prussia ignored him, so he decided to not press the issue. "Really, it's okay. I know that you love being the center of attention, so the fact that most of the world seems to have forgotten you've ever existed can't be easy for you."

"Not the world," Prussia muttered. "Don't care about them. But you and West and 'Veta are like the only ones that still seem to talk to me. Everybody else kinda seems to think if they do they'll like disappear from the world just like the awesome me. I mean, Francis and Antonio used to talk to me all the time and now they're even avoiding me," he sighed, looking a lot more serious than Austria was used to seeing. "I just…don't understand why I'm here, Roderich. If there's nothing left for me, why not let me go? Why leave me in this…limbo?"

"Maybe you're not quite finished yet," Austria said gently. "And maybe…" he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, because this was going to be hard to admit and either Prussia would laugh at him and call him a sissy or he'd appreciate it immensely…but in the end it was a chance he had to take. "Maybe it's because there are those who would miss you if you suddenly weren't around."

"You hate me."

"I may be annoyed by your consistent lack of tact and rude behavior, but I don't hate you, Gilbert," Austria assured him, idly toying with a loose thread on the hem of the other man's trousers. "As much as I hate to admit it, you make life interesting. I would notice it if you never came 'round."

"Oh. I mean, of course you would! Who in their right mind could ignore the awesome me?"

"Don't try and cover your insecurity up with loud bravado," Austria reprimanded him. "And I'm sure if you wanted to come along tomorrow nobody would fault you for it. I'm sure there are some who truly believe you are dead."

"Cheerful thought," Prussia snorted. "And stop fiddling with my pants."

"You're the one who put your feet in my lap. And you'd better hope those boots are clean."

"Meh, clean enough," Prussia shrugged, propping himself up on an elbow to better look at Austria. "Just…"

"Yes?"

"It's scary. Not knowing. I could disappear tomorrow or I could linger on for a hundred years, but it's the not knowing that gets to me the most," he admitted, the words sounding like it took a lot of effort for him to say them aloud.

"Nobody knows," Austria returned. "Any one of us could be here one day and gone the next; we just can't dwell on it or we'll drive ourselves crazy. And if you do somehow manage to stick around for eternity, that's a long time to be crazy."

"You're an eternal optimist, aren't you?" Prussia sniffed. "Y'know, if I had a choice? I wouldn't wanna leave either. I'm pretty sure at this point that you wouldn't be able to survive without me," he smirked rather infuriatingly and Austria debated shoving him off of the couch, although he figured that doing so would be a rather childish retaliation. "Seriously, Roderich," he added, his voice much quieter, "I don't want to die."

"You won't," Austria said once more, his hand almost unconsciously smoothing down the fabric of the other man's trousers. "Now, up. I really do have to prepare for tomorrow."

"Fine," Prussia lifted his feet, at least until Austria was standing, and then he slung them over the arm of the sofa and lay back, looking comfortable and at ease again. Austria shook his head, knowing that this momentary weakness on the other man's part would likely never be mentioned again, but over the years he'd come to realize that this was just the way Prussia was. "Oi, Roddy, can I ask you a favor?"

"If you must."

"Mattie said he'd bring some maple syrup for me at the next meeting, so could'ja pick that up?"

"You could still come with and pick it up yourself. I'm sure Matthew would be happy to see you; God knows why, but he seems to tolerate you for some reason," Austria glanced back.

"Feh, the only reason he likes me is 'cuz even more people seem to forget I'm still around than they do him," Prussia was quite obviously pouting again, and Austria walked back over and perched rather delicately on the armrest near the ex-nation's head.

"Seriously, Gilbert, come with me. You don't need to come to the meeting, but at least you'll get to speak with somebody other than myself, Elizaveta and Ludwig," his let his hand rest on the arm, long fingers barely brushing the tips of Prussia's snowy hair.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Not even a little."

"Meh, why not. I mean, it's not like anybody could really forget the awesome me, at least once they see my handsome face again," he bared his teeth in a grin and Austria decided that this time, he could finally take his leave without being stopped. A hand closing about his slim wrist stopped him, however, and he looked down, eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected touch.

"Yes?"

"…Nah, never mind," Prussia shrugged, although he didn't let go of the Austrian.

"Alright, then. Would you care to stay for dinner?"

"You know I'd stay even if you didn't ask, right?"

"I'm well aware; I just thought I'd be polite and invite you," Austria tugged his wrist gently but the other man didn't seem inclined to let go.

"Cool," Prussia didn't thank him, but of course he'd never really expected to be thanked. "Anyway, I just…look, I'm glad you've been there all these years. I think that part of the reason I'm still around is because of you, so…yeah."

Austria gently smiled at how much difficulty he was having expressing his gratitude, so he decided to take pity on the man and cut off his rambling with a nod. "I understand. And you're welcome."

"Hey, I never thanked you!"

"You didn't need to," Austria pulled away again, and Prussia finally let him go, his hand lightly grasping the other man's on the way by before Austria moved out of the parlour. "Coming?"

"Yeah," Prussia cleared his throat and stood, clomping out after the other man, already complaining about something-or-other as they made their way to the kitchens. Austria noticed that, for whatever reason, he was paying a little more attention to the man than he usually did, and reflected that perhaps this was his brain's unknowing response to Prussia's fears about fading away.

He knew he didn't have to worry, though, because what he had said to the Prussian had been the truth: he was just simply too stubborn to fade into nothingness, so Austria had a pretty good feeling that his…friend? Perhaps?...would yet be around for a good, long time.

Notes:

Okay, so although I've been in the fandom for about a month, now, this is the first Hetalia fic I've ever written. I have no idea why these two were the first ones I chose to write about, but Prussia really interests me because he seems like a character who has so much more to him than the rough exterior he likes to show off to everybody. The fact that I like Austria I attribute to the fact that I'm also a pianist and part of my heritage is Austrian, so perhaps that explains it xP

Anyway, I apologize if my characters are really off, but I hope that somebody enjoyed reading this, and leave me a note on the way out :)

Also, if you wish to hear the song Roderich's playing at the beginning, you can do so here: www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=zYEqT3BUVXo