This here is a solo story by Russia. Enjoy it, cry, and please review!
No one could really see it coming. Not the way it happened, at least. After the Second World War, after the Berlin Wall fell, after both Germany and Prussia had accepted their decision… How could they have predicted that it would only happen after sixty more years? Countless more battles, more wars, and more time to befriend those he would soon leave behind. He was the only one to have an inkling of when it would happen. And his warning was only given a few hours prior.
There could never have been enough time.
"West?" The call had come at about three am, a warm spring morning in 2013.
"Yes, Prussia?" Germany's voice was laced with exhaustion.
"I'm sorry." The voice on the other end was, as well, but somehow it wasn't the same. The German's eyes slowly widened. When he spoke, it was with apprehension.
"For what…?" The response took a while as it stirred in the Prussian's head. He spoke in a whisper.
"Everything." A pause as the albino took a breath. "For not being a good brother. For getting on your nerves sometimes. For every prank I played on you when you were little. For –"
"Gilbert." He interrupted his brother. The other man lapsed into silence. "What's happened?"
Another long pause. Germany took the chance to sit back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"I… N-Nothing."
"Prussia –"
"Nah, West. I'll see you later today. Don't collapse because of a lack of awesome!"
Click.
Prussia sighed as he sat back in his armchair, his red eyes half closed. He'd have to hold out. If he was going to be remembered, a vanishing in the night would never be good enough.
He got to his feet, stiffening as another wave of pain crushed his chest. He guided himself along the bookshelf to reach his camera, a mischievous grin lighting his face.
Now, if only he could hold out until sunrise.
He was curled up in pain by the time everyone arrived. Germany didn't wait for an answer before barging in, followed shortly by the others he had called: France, Spain, Austria, Hungary, and Sealand. Ordinarily, he would have left the younger nation out of it, but he deserved his farewell.
"What took you so long?" He winced as he spoke, but managed to grin as the group filed into the room. Germany was the first to realize what was going on.
"Prussia…" He breathed, stepping forward. He set both of his gloved hands on his brother's shoulders, and the albino smiled up at him.
"It's happening, West." Hungary took a small step forward.
"Not if we can –" Prussia stopped her with a gentle shake of his head.
"No. It's… It's too late." Suddenly overcome with rage, Germany threw a punch downwards into the blankets.
"How can it be too late? Just yesterday you were – you were fine, verdammt!" Prussia could only bow his head in apology.
"I know."
"You can't – you –"
"I know, West." At that, Germany stopped protesting, leaning forward to embrace his older brother. And like the thousands of times before that, Prussia lifted his hands to gently stroke his brother's back in comfort. With the same calloused hands he had used when Germany was a new nation. In the same way as when Germany had broken his wrist outside while playing. In the same way as when their first dog died.
The exact way that made the German change right back into a child again.
Germany shook slightly as he tried to hold onto his brother. Hungary turned away along with the others, giving the two a moment of solitude. A whispered conversation was shared.
"We can – We can convince more people to call themselves Prussian. It's not impossible, I can do it –"
"West." That tone of voice made Germany's eyes sting. "We can't do anything. It's over." The younger buried his face into Prussia's shoulder, falling silent.
Hungary turned around, her eyes already wet with tears. "So that's it, then? You're just giving up?" Prussia averted his eyes from Hungary's penetrating stare.
"I can't fight it, Hungary. Everyone knew I'd disappear sometime or another."
"But what triggered it now? We just… It doesn't make sense!" Prussia's retort was instantaneous.
"What does, in the long run?"
Hungary took a tiny step back, her hand rising to block her sobs. Austria laced a protective arm around her shoulders and gave a curt nod to the albino in farewell. Germany shifted to sit next to Prussia, never breaking contact with the other nation.
France and Spain finally stepped forward, crouching to be even with their friend's eyes. Spain stretched a hand out, starting their usual goodbye.
"Bad-"
"Friends-" France continued, and they both looked expectantly at Prussia. He pressed his hand onto the others'.
"Trio! Always!" The three shared a nod, and that was all they needed.
Sealand hesitated, but leaped forward to pull his friend into a hug. He barely choked out two words.
"Goodbye, Prussia." He stepped carefully back, nodding, then turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room.
"Sea –" Prussia began, but the micronation was long gone. He let out a long sigh, pulling the camera from behind him.
"We should take some pictures. They'll last longer." He let an enormous grin cover his face, pointing the lens at himself and the others around him in turn. No other words were needed. He said them anyway.
"Stay awesome, you guys."
Two months. It had been two months since Germany had entered Prussia's bedroom. Two months since the elder had vanished into nothingness, and so two months since their photographs had been left there.
A knot formed in the German's stomach as he turned the doorknob, and the door creaked open with only a gentle push. He felt his eyes close, not wanting to see it again, but forced himself to look.
It was exactly as they'd left it. The window was shut, leaving dust over everything. Three photographs and an old Polaroid camera sat on the bed. He knew the images that would await him there without looking. And frankly, he didn't want to. His brother was grinning at him from each picture.
Austria and Hungary were with him in one, Hungary trying hard to hide her tears with a smile. In another was France and Spain, with Prussia failing to hold himself dramatically in the middle. In the third, the German would see himself and his brother, both trying to hold onto each other without seeming clingy. His memories of that day were still far too clear. He pressed a hand to his cheek to find that it was wet with tears.
Releasing a heavy breath, Germany took two shaky steps forward, standing over the bed and trying to put on a cheerful expression. His brother's face was already getting hazy in his memory, and needed to be reminded of that arrogant expression. His ever-present smirk. The many things that were all so distinctly… Prussia.
He lifted the first photo, delicately brushing off the dust. His heart nearly stopped. He picked up the next photo. And the next. At the third, his quivering hands dropped the picture, and Germany dropped to his knees, crying into his hands. He didn't deserve this. It was too much, and he hated the helpless sobs that caught in his throat.
In each picture, more neatly than it seemed possible with the tears streaming down his face, his brother had simply…
Dissolved.
Fin.