Hey readers. :) this was originally going to be a one-shot, but it kept getting longer and longer, so I thought it might be more manageable if I did it multi-chapter. Plus it was taking ages and I was desperate to publish it. :) anyways, on with the story! I really hope you like it, and if you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to let me know (I can't guarantee they'll appear in this story, as it's already quite developed, but for another story would be great!) Disclaimer: I own nothing. :( sadly. So sadly. PS: Austria and Hungary will appear a bit later, if you're wondering where they are. I'm sorry, I'm done, you can read now! :)
Germany massaged his temples as he walked up to the door of his house. He'd just returned from another pointless World Meeting, and was by now extremely tired, and he was sure he could feel a migraine coming on. Once again, America had suggested some wild scheme to save the planet from global warming (this one involving a huge robot being built that could pull the Earth away from the Sun so it cooled down - Germany wondered for the hundredth time how it was possible for a nation to be so stupid), England and France had to be forcefully prised off each other when another fight had broken out between them, after the Frenchman had spiked the Brit's tea with salt, and Germany had forgotten to bring an emergency tub of pasta for Italy, resulting in him whining in Germany's ear about being hungry throughout the entire meeting.
So as Germany entered his home, the first thing he wanted to do was get a lovely ice cold beer from the fridge, lay back on the sofa, and simply chill in front of the TV for a couple of hours. Closing the door behind him, Germany called out for his brother to see if he was home. "Gilbert?" he shouted. When he got no response, he assumed Prussia must have either tucked himself down in the basement, or actually gone out and done the shopping like Germany had asked him to do. The latter of which he very much doubted, as Gilbert didn't even recognise "chore" as an official word (apart from cleaning, which was something both Beilschmidt brothers practically worshipped).
Germany then when into the kitchen, opened the fridge and selected a bottle of beer. He scowled as he noticed that a few had mysteriously disappeared, and decided to remind his brother, whenever he surfaced, that these beers belonged to Germany, and that Prussia had his own stash in the cooler down in the basement. Germany was about to close the fridge door when he decided that he might just take another bottle with him. It had been a very tiring and stressful meeting, he reasoned.
Taking a swig of beer as he entered the living room, Germany was surprised to see a figure curled up in a pile of blankets on the sofa, with a shock of white hair just visible. Placing the beer bottles on the table, Germany walked over to his brother.
"Gilbert?" he said, removing a couple of the blankets. "Are you asleep?" When he finally dug Prussia out of the pile, Germany found that his brother was indeed fast asleep; quite unusual for him, seeing as the ex-nation was usually bouncing off the walls by the time Germany returned from a meeting. Prussia groaned quietly and shivered as the blankets were removed, before finally cracking open a crimson eye, and looking up at his brother.
"West?" Prussia's voice sounded a little hoarse. "That meeting was quick." Growing slightly concerned, Germany replied, "Nein bruder, I've been gone for hours." Sitting on the edge of the sofa next to his brother, he asked, "Have you been asleep all this time?"
Prussia sat up, and blearily rubbed at his eyes. "I guess so," he said, looking up at the clock on the wall, before coughing slightly. Germany frowned, his concern growing, and leant forward to place a hand on his brother's brow, which was warm under his touch. However, the ex-nation quickly slapped it away, saying, "I'm fine West! I just stayed out too late last night." Admitting that in itself was unusual behaviour for Prussia.
"You look a little peaky Gilbert," commented Germany. "Are you sure you're not coming down with something?"
"Stop fussing, West!" Prussia exclaimed, getting slightly unsteadily to his feet. "I'm fine!" Germany had stood up as well, noticing how Prussia's legs shook, almost imperceptibly, and had automatically reached out to take his arm. "You don't look well," the nation protested. "Why don't you take it easy for the rest of the day?"
"I will, after I go to the bathroom," Prussia responded. "And I don't need a nanny for that!" And with that, the ex-nation stalked off, running a hand through his hair. Germany sighed, and sat back down on his chair, before taking another drink from his beer bottle.
)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(
Prussia would never admit it to anyone, but he felt quite terrible. His whole body felt hot and clammy, yet he was continuously shivering, his head was pounding, and his throat was horribly sore. The symptoms had been there since early in the morning, when Germany had left for the World Meeting, but Prussia had assumed they were the ramifications from not going to bed until gone three o'clock in the morning, and a few too many of West's beers. Now however, they were getting worse, and Prussia was feeling groggier by the minute.
He hated getting sick; since his country's dissolution, it had been happening more and more frequently, and each time was worse than the previous, although Prussia had always managed to recover. The same familiar bitterness crept up into Prussia's chest as he thought about what his ex-nation status was doing to him. All the other nations became sick occasionally, as it was linked up to the state of their country and their people, but due to their natural resilience and ability to heal quickly, they were never down for long, unless it was a particularly serious event. But once again Prussia was painfully reminded of the fact that he had no country and no people, and that whenever sickness caught him, it was up to his own mortal body to fight it.
Pushing aside these gloomy thoughts, Prussia staggered into the bathroom, and just about managed to do his business without falling over. Once he had finished, the ex-nation left the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen, without any real idea of what exactly he wanted in there; his mind felt fuzzy, as if someone had stuffed a load of cotton wool in there, and Prussia was finding it increasingly difficult to think. He had to pause for a few moments to allow his brain to catch up with him.
He eventually decided that beer was going to be the only solution, and moved towards the fridge to steal another one from Germany's stash. However, this sudden movement triggered a surge of dizziness that set the world spinning violently, and Prussia had to grab hold of the kitchen counter to stop himself collapsing. The steady pounding in his head increased tenfold, making it feel as though he'd just been kicked by an elephant, and Prussia could sense his stomach threatening to rebel against him. In desperation, he tried calling out to his brother, but all he could manage was a quiet "West" before the world turned black.
So? What do you think? Any comments of any kind are most welcome, in fact the more reviews I get the more I'll try to write. :) Plus, check out my other Hetalia story, "Just a Dream", again Prussia and Germany hurt/comfort. Hopefully you'll like that too. :) see you soon!