Date Written: November 20, 2011
Word Count: 1 419
Summary: A songfic centering around the Axis and Prussia starting sometime shortly after Italy switches to the Allies and ending sometime around the bombings of Japan and the Berlin Wall. Based on "Alive Again" by Marianas Trench. Rated T for...well, various reasons. It is about WWII, after all. From various points of view.
Warnings: WWII, mentions of self-harm, some Germany = HRE theory, swearing, mentions of the Berlin Wall, mentions of Hiroshima/Nagaski (but not by name), some possible historical inaccuracies, etc.
Disclaimer: Hetalia and the lyrics used do not belong to me.
Order of POVs: Germany, Italy, Prussia, Germany, Italy, Prussia, Italy, Germany, Japan (really couldn't think of anything for Japan because he's all calm and collected and stuff and everyone else is kinda having various degrees of mental breakdowns DX).
I felt it turn to come and go, don't worry, no one ever knows
I don't know why it just won't die
It breaks me in to stay alive
The fighting… So much fighting… I hate it. I hate it all. All of it. All the fighting, the killing, the deaths, everything. But there is nothing I can do. I can't go against the orders of my boss. This war has been going on for so long now… Sometimes I wish they would just win already. End all of this. I am tired of all this war. I do not understand how the older nations could stand fighting all the time. My brother enjoys it. Lives for the fight. At least, that's what he says.
But he is wrong. No one lives for the fight. They only die.
I am just so tired all of the time these days. It is my own people dying now. I can feel them dying. Each one, one by one. I can't stand this. I am losing everything along the way of a desperate attempt to gain it all back. Italy already left. He was smart, for once. Smart not to fight. Smart to leave now. Japan won't leave; he does not show it, but he's too stubborn to give up. I want to give up.
I hate saying this…but I want them to win. Not that I would tell any of them that. I have to stay strong, at least until all of this is over.
I must.
I know it hurt a lot like you
Come on I know that you felt it too
It hurts the same and that's okay
I never liked him anyway
Having to leave tore me apart. I had just gotten him back and then I have to leave? What? Are you trying to torture me? Give him the same face, same eyes, same attitudes (albeit buried, somewhat), take away all the memories? I thought the three of us could be friends. But then this war, it's always damn war, came along and shook everything up. I hate it! War is why everyone always leaves me! War stole Rome from me. War separated mio fratello and I. War locked away his memory. War always ruins everything!
Yet…it's still what everything always comes to…
The Allies are nice enough, but the look at me out of the corner of their eyes and whisper about me when they think I don't hear. But I do. I hear them. I notice them. Well, except for that one who seems a bit transparent… I've talked to him a few times, he seems nice. He doesn't like the war either. I wonder if I could have a friend within the Allies?
Having to leave brought back all the memories of before, when I was younger, when he left the first time. It broke my heart, again.
I know, I
It seems so long since I've been gone
I got so used to just hanging on
I feel so wrong, I don't belong
I got so used to just hanging on
Russia watches me closer these days. We can all feel that the war is ending, one way or another. He follows me, watches. Smiles happily. It creeps me out. I don't want to go live with Russia; I've seen how the Baltics react. Russia freaks me out.
But it feels like I can't escape. I get a bad feeling whenever we talk about the war nowadays. Something bad is going to happen…
I don't like it.
I'm used to starving out instead
It's easier than faking it
Sometimes it hurts but that's no worse than all those times I guess it works
I know they walked away with a piece of me
Those tattoos… The numbers… I can't take it. I have to get them off. Even if the others can't see them, I can. I still can. I just have to get them off. I make sure they can't see, they won't notice. They will figure out something's wrong. And I can't have that. I need to get the numbers off. But I have to be careful. My mind is…slipping. I have to be careful how deep I claw away. I only want the numbers off. Just the numbers. Everything else can stay, here, in this world. In this…fucked up world… It's easy enough to hide the scars. My uniform covers them; plus I already have so many from this war, so what's one or two (or ten or twenty) to add to the mix?
I just need…
…I don't even know anymore…
I need this war to be over.
The more I know and I won't go
The more I bruise from laying low
We all have scars, all of us. There's not one nation who has managed to be free of the scars that come with embodying our country. And bruises. Those too.
Yet another reason why I hate fighting, hate wars. I can't escape the pain, even by running to the Allies. It's just more scars, more pain, more fighting, more bruises, more war. I hate this. Switzerland has the right idea. Just don't get involved and you won't get hurt.
Fuck, do I know how true that is…
I know, I
It seems so long since I've been gone
I got so used to just hanging on
I feel so wrong, I don't belong
I have to go live with Russia now. I don't want to leave. Japan is still fighting. West is still battling his own demons (he doesn't know that I know, but I won't stop him as long as he's still alive the next day). Italy is avoiding us. The other Italy doesn't care. I have to keep them safe. Our own…dysfunctional family. I have to protect them.
I can't when that Russian bastard has me chained behind an iron wall like some kind of animal. This doesn't feel right. This isn't right… I just have to survive. Only survive. It's only for a little while, I have to remember that.
But…when I return home…I fear for what will meet me there…
And I know, and I know, and I know
I walk around like I'm alive again but I know it's just not the same
And I walk around like I'm alive again
The Allies expect me to be thankful. I don't know what the Axis expects; I have been staying away from them as much as it hurts to do so. I don't know what to think anymore. All I know is that the war is over, but it still hurts. Why does this still hurt so bad? There's no more fighting…so why?
Why do I still hurt?
Shut up, shut up, shut up
And I walk around like I'm alive again but I know it's just not the same
And I walk around like I'm alive again
I know it's not the same
The war is over…but the numbers are still there…The voices still call to me, whisper in my ear at my weakest points. They still can't see the numbers. I can. The numbers are still there. I have to get rid of them. The voices agree with me.
Something is wrong, and I can tell, but I just don't care anymore. No one notices anything different. The voices are scared that someone else will find out about them. I am scared that someone else will find out about the scars that now criss-cross my arm, trying to erase the tattoo, the past. The numbers are still there. The voices still scream at me.
But the war is over…that's the only shining light in this suffocating bloody darkness. The voices do not agree with me this time. They point out the numbers. I go for the knife, again.
I have to get rid of the numbers. The voices agree.
I don't know why it just won't die
And I'm fading
I do not regret my decisions. I do not regret fighting alongside Germany and Italy (well…if you can call what Italy does 'fighting'…). I do not regret continuing to fight. Even with this bomb…I have no regrets.
War is war. Simple as that.
People fight. People die. It just happened to be my turn next.
This time, the blackness welcomes me. I embrace it.
Perhaps, when I wake up, all of this will be made right again. I do not envy the living, but the dead have it easy.