This is another mini story written a while back for a prompt on the Hetalia Kink Meme. To be honest, the stuff I've written has just been chillin' on my computer. So, I decided to put it up for other's to enjoy as I enjoyed writing.

Warnings: Violence, language, descriptions of war (WWII, Battle of Ortona), potential historical inaccuracy (Wikipedia is all I got T.T)

Characters: Germany & Canada


Canada is a demon.

Germany decides this when the younger blond calmly steps out from behind the rubble of house and points his gun straight at him. Canada has no limits. He fights and fights and win or lose, he leaves his mark, Germany believes as he trembles. Violet eyes burn and freeze him at the same time and Germany is fairly certain the other would gun him down, provoked or not. And he raises his hands and locks eyes with the younger man.

And Canada looks like hell. His uniform is in tatters and Germany can see the vicious scars forming slowly and bitterly. His face is paler than death and one of his arms hangs uselessly at his side. His side is bleeding and filthy bandages cover his neck and over one eye. His blond hair is dark with sweat and smoke and blood.

He looks so much like one of Germany's young soldiers.

But he's not. His mouth is set in a firm line and his eyes are full of hate. Not to mention he can withstand an explosion while many young soldiers decorate the torn landscape.

"You goddamn bastard." Canada hisses, removing the safety from the gun and steadies his hand.

And Germany swallows dryly, his mind rushing with images of the battle. Days of skulking through houses like mice, praying that the clang echoing next to you isn't a grenade, hearing the screams of the unfortunate caught by mines and of men mowed down by machine gun fire and men caught under collapsing buildings, of watching a once beautiful Italian town crumble and shatter from explosions and guns because it is now a battleground. Day after day of running on sheer will and determination and the knowledge that the Boss will not be pleased if Ortona falls to the enemy.

It is Stalingrad all over again.

And Germany realizes that he shouldn't be all that surprised. The nation had proven himself decades ago, at Passchendaele when he charged through much mud and filth and blood, past screaming and sinking soldiers—his soldiers—and at Vimy and in the trenches when he first found himself in a war of such magnitude. This is the same nation who fought with absolutely everything, eyes blazing and heart pounding, sacrificing so much for duty and pride and love and honor.

This is the same nation that haunted the dreams of his soldiers for so many years.

This is the nation chasing him and his veteran soldiers from their stronghold.

Sure, America is powerful and England is experienced and France is sly and Russia is just downright creepy.

But it's this young blond nation, battered and bruised with eyes that glow with pride and anger and sorrow, that scares him the most.

This is his bogeyman.

And Germany closes his eyes.


I love Canada so much that it scares me sometimes. Why doesn't he get more love? Why damn it why? -shakes fist in fury- Oh, and I apologize for any historical inaccuracy. History major I am not, so let me know if something off. But I hope it wasn't too bad and that maybe some of you enjoyed it? -fingers crossed-