Readers got a little confused about the time skips in this chapter the first time, so I've tried to make them a little clearer this time - let me know what you think!
Beer, Sorrow and Want.
November 1989...
The wall had fallen. In the frigid night air, alive with the energy of their kin, the people tore it down, brick by brick, cheering and grasping at their brothers on the other side. They were all there, fused with electricity, hands bloody and sore, as Germany tore down that last blockade, Prussia bursting forth and embracing his brother for the first time in so, so long. They had all cried, and cheered, and hollered and rejoiced. They could be whole again.
Now silent and buzzing with the leftovers of that furious energy, Prussia leant against the said same wall, beer in his frozen hands, staring serenely at the stars. The rubble was his only companion, piled high and defiled all about. The night was cold and quiet, but it was peaceful, and the sense of warmth within him filled his every cell. Finally, he was whole, and home, with his brother and friends again. He took a deep draught of his beer, savouring the bittersweet taste, knowing that when he went home, the house would be warm and full.
"Mon ami," a beloved voice called softly "What are you doing hanging about here?"
Prussia looked over. Frances hands were still bandaged, but every other part of him as impeccable as always.
"Just thinking." Prussia admitted, turning back at the stars.
"Well, stop." France ordered "It can't be good for you."
With a chuckle, France stumbled over the rubble and positioned himself on the ground beside Prussia, joining his gaze heavenwards. Prussia offered his beer, and the fop took a swig before passing it back. For a silent moment, they took in the night.
"You should come away from this place, Prussia." France said again "It does no good to hold onto painful things. Come back to the house, we can drink to our hearts content in the warm."
Prussia didn't answer at once. He couldn't deny his friend was right. The cold, hard concrete against his back reaffirmed reality. This was happening. He was free.
"I have every night for the rest of time to be warm." He mused to his friend "Tonight, I want to stare at the stars."
"That's pretty deep, amigo."
The two were joined on the ground by their jolly Spanish friend, who handed them both fresh beers as he leant against the rubble with them. His soft green eyes surveyed the panorama above them.
"The stars sure do look good tonight." He agreed "I don't think I've seen them shine so bright for a while."
Prussia laughed at the corny sentiment. He had missed his friends. He had missed Frances gold hair and lily cologne, Spains lazy voice and gentle smile. He'd never tell them, of course, because men don't talk about things like that. But…
He raised his fresh bottle of beer into the air.
"To the end of the war." He toasted.
"To freedom." Spain agreed as he rose his own.
"To being together again." France finished, gently clicking his bottle with the other two.
They drank deep, laughed at the ridiculous sentiment, and talked shit for the rest of the night as they stared at the stars.
Now...
Britain marched quickly down the hall of the government building. The Queen had been on the phone with him all morning. The. Bloody. Queen. For her majesty to be so concerned, the situation must be as bad as his fellow nations feared. As he got to the doors of the meeting room, he met Germany coming from the other direction, looking just as harassed as he felt. Germany greeted him with a sigh and a nod.
"Your premier, too?" Britain enquired.
"Ja, it's bad." He confirmed "This is a major disruption. Do you have any idea what caused it?"
"I wish I did. They were fine one day, the next they were fighting. What's your brother said?"
"Nothing." Germany sighed "It's normally difficult to shut him up, but now…"
They jumped as the door burst open, revealing a more-irate-then-usual China, who glared at them accusingly.
"You are both late!" he declared, before jabbing Germany in the chest with his finger "Do something about your brother! He's being disruptive! And you!" he turned to Britain "Get your boyfriend in line! We can't end this conference with this going on, and I don't want to be stuck in Europe forever!"
"Yes, sir." They chimed together.
They followed China into the room, and the atmosphere was immediately taut. The whole room was practically silent, save for the tapping of feet and the oblivious happy humming of America. In separate corners, the usually inseparable friends had sat, individual clouds of gloom making their homes over them. Frances arms were crossed over his chest, eyes closed, ignoring the whole room. Spain sat, flanked by Romano, staring resolutely at nothing on the table. Prussia sat with Austria to one side and Germanys empty chair to the other, writing furiously in a notebook. The tension between them could almost be seen, even making Britains magical friends uncomfortable. With a glance between them, Germany and Britain went to their respective seats, hoping talk of the Eurozone deficit would lighten the mood.
June 1990...
Le Mans is warm in the summer, the sun beating down without mercy or prejudice, and the heat of the crowds and engines made it almost insufferable. The crowds roared as the cars came around again, settling down when they disappeared from sight.
"Dammit, Froggy, put away that frilly parasol, it's embarrassing!" Prussia moaned as France adjusted the umbrella over his head.
"Well, excuse me for being worried about your snow-white skin, Mr Albino!" was his reply.
Prussia grimaced.
"You couldn't have found a more manly parasol?"
"I don't think they make them, you know." Spain supposed, perfectly happy in the mid-day sun "But I have to say, France, that one is magnificently feminine."
"There is nothing wrong with my parasol!"
Staying for the entire 24 hours isn't strictly necessary for the non-die-hard fans of racing – truth be told, France only went because Prussia had said he wanted to see it, and Spain had gone because… because…? Because he liked spending time with his friends, and was pretty happy-go-lucky about how and where. They departed the race track just before dinner time, supping in an intimate restaurant France was familiar with. The three were rowdy, even without the addition of alcohol, so sat in the restaurant garden, surrounded by peony, pansies and honeysuckle, laughing and shooting the breeze as the sun set.
"I want one of those sporty little racing cars!" Prussia declared "Those things are awesome! Did you see how fast they went around that track?"
"Mon dieu, they are so unsafe!" France countered "They aren't even aloud on the roads, you know."
"It's true." Spain confirmed "You want a dangerous car that's allowed on the road, just buy Italian."
The three laughed, but Prussia couldn't be convinced.
"I've been locked away from the world for 30 years." He reminded them "The longest 30 years of my entire life. And that's just when they built the wall…"
The other two fell silent, awkward, as Prussia stared into the beer he had been nursing for the last 45 minutes, a distant and haunted look in his eye.
"I've spent too much time lamenting the things I didn't do, things I didn't say, things I wanted but never had the courage to go after." With a pause, he downed his beer, gasping air in appreciation "So, I'm going to get an awesome racing car!" he declared "I'm going to punch Austria in his prick face, just because I can! And then!" he blushed awkwardly, once again into his now empty glass "I'm going to finally confess my love to that person."
"Hungary?" Spain and France chanted together.
"Wha? No, no." he scratched his white locks awkwardly "I can understand why you'd think that, but she and I have been friends so long… she's like my brother or something."
"Don't you mean sister?" France corrected.
"I know what I mean! You're more my sister than she is!"
France huffed and flicked back his hair. Spain just laughed.
"¿Cerveza, hermana Francesca?" he teased.
"Shut up and get me another drink."
Spain returned a moment later with more drinks and a cold look from the owners, who would like it very much if they would leave so they could get more customers in, but the trio were quite comfortable where they were.
"To be honest, I didn't know you had someone you felt so strongly for." He confessed as he sat down "You always seemed like a confirmed bachelor to me."
"Says Mr. Mom!" Prussia teased "Changed any nappies recently, family man?"
"Tease all you want, hombre, I like having children around."
"Ah, Spain!" France joined in "Knows all about the love a father has for his children, but so little about the love a man has for his lover!"
"I don't think a man so often mistaken for a rapist can really comment on love, amigo."
France gasped, incensed, but Prussia fell about laughing.
"Nice to know not too much has changed in my absence!"
"Stop laughing, Mr. Can't-talk-to-women!"
He declined, banging the table with his fist as he choked on his glee. France just huffed, fiddling with the flowers that were blooming over the side of the table.
"At least I've had relationships." He muttered bitterly.
"A one night stand isn't a relationship." Spain pointed out, giving France his wine.
France huffed.
"As I recall, all your sexual partners get bored and leave because you're too busy with your children, which I remind you, are all grown up now, to pay any attention to them."
"Hey now, let's not get harsh here." Prussia urged, catching his breath "We're all friends."
The two grumbled, but settled down. With a final sigh, France turned to Prussia.
"So, tell us about your beloved!" he said to lighten the mood "I am keen to know who it is that 'as made you finally want to give up your virgin ways!"
Prussia went bright red and started to splutter.
"You! I! I'm not!"
"Don't try to deny it, man, we know you are." Spain agreed.
Prussias blush spread to his ears, and he took a deep drink from his beer to calm himself. He set it down, looking determined and calm, but his inner monologue seemed to get the better of him, and his blush returned. His head hit the table.
"I can't do it." He moaned.
"Well, start with something simple." Spain suggested "Man or woman?"
After a moment, Prussia mumbled something into the table, but they couldn't hear him clearly.
"Vegetable or mineral?" France teased.
Prussia flashed him the middle finger. France laughed, still fingering the flowers beside him. His eyes grew a little sad as he inspected a red rose.
"I understand." He promised "It can be difficult to talk about the one you love, especially when you don't know if they love you in return."
"You too, France?" Spain enquired.
"Oui. I admit, I am in love."
"When did this happen?" Spain went on, smiling in his usual dopey way.
"Mon ami,I think it may always have been so, but I was too proud to see it." He sighed miserably "Lately, when I see America and China and Russia hanging all over him, I get so jealous, I feel like I could faint." He sighed again, putting his head in his hands "Oh, mon lapin."
Spain and Prussia twitched. Slowly, Prussia raised his head from the table.
"You… for Britain?" he asked.
"Oui. It's tres miserable, I know, but I cannot help it. The heart wants what it wants."
"I don't think that's wise." Spain admitted "You guys have a long history of hating each other."
"Ah, but there is nothing wise about love, Spain." France waxed poetic "And is there not a fine line between love and hate?"
"America I can picture." Prussia interrupted "But China?"
"You forget, they will share custody of 'Ong Kong until the millennium." France reminded him "China has a thing for powerful nations, and Britain is exceptionally powerful, for being so small." He huffed "I don't think China even likes him, but the way he flirts when they're together, giving him the bedroom eyes and touching his arms all the time. I'm shocked Britain doesn't see it himself."
"Russia doesn't shock you?" Spain asked Prussia, who huffed at the question.
"No, I know Russia likes Britain." He revealed "He's one of the few people who doesn't cower from him, and considering the UK can fit into Mother Russia about 70 times, that's kind of impressive." He blushed a little "It is impressive."
"Si, there's no doubt he's not afraid of anything." Spain agreed "I still have the scars from where we fought during the armadas. He was more of a wild beast than a man. If his people were as ferocious as him, I'm lucky I never succeeded in invading."
"I can assure you, they are." France told him "Why do you think I couldn't keep sovereignty there?"
"Um, because Britain doesn't like you?" Spain said bluntly.
"That's so mean! Less than 50 years ago we fought in alliance against those filthy Nazis! Ah, no offence, Prussia."
"They weren't my favourite people either, you know."
"But a military alliance isn't the same thing as liking someone." Spain pointed out before things got even more awkward "You also fought beside Russia in that war, but I can't imagine you going out for dinner with him."
"Ah, but Britain and I have centuries of history together!"
"We all do, amigo. It's thanks to the UN that that complicated stuff is behind us and we can all be friends now."
"Why are you so against this?" France was incensed once more "I know you don't like Britain, but I thought you would at least be supportive of me, one of your oldest friends!"
Spain looked away from him.
"I like Britain just fine." He confessed "And it's because you're my friend that I'm worried – a relationship with Britain won't end well. They never do…"
A moments silence graced the table as the two looked at him, trying to decipher his sad expression. After a moment, it dawned on France.
"He's your ex." He remembered.
"WHAT?!" Prussia cried, clearly not having known.
"During that time." Spain remembered "Everything was so chaotic. Britain was getting stronger and stronger, and there was something so fierce and passionate about him." He blushed in recollection "What we had didn't last very long, but… I've never felt that kind of passion since then."
"Mon ami, I had forgotten." France admitted apologetically "But you know, he's a different man now."
"Yeah, I know, he's more settled than he used to be." Spain knew "But sometimes, when I see him talking in meetings, or when he's fighting with the other nations, I can still see that fire in him. I don't think he's entirely changed."
France took a good look at his friends sad expression, trying to think of the right thing to say, but eventually just sighed and went back to caressing the velvety petals of his rose.
"It doesn't matter, anyway." He confessed "Even if he did feel the same way, we are both too proud to admit it. I feel I am fated forever to look upon him with longing, and nothing more."
"W-well, what if someone else came along?" Prussia asked, sitting so his side was facing them and scratching the back of his neck uncouthly "Wouldn't you be upset?"
"Of course." France admitted "But if they truly loved him, and he truly loved them, I don't see how I could interfere."
"Hm."
Prussias scratching moved to his collarbone.
"What if it was, like, Russia or something?" he muttered "Wouldn't you hate that?"
"More than I hate American cheese."
"What if it were America?"
"That, mon ami, will never happen."
"What if it was me?"
The two looked at Prussia, who busied himself with scratching his leg. He felt their gaze upon him, but he couldn't look them in the eye. Frances eyes in particular bore a hole through him, and the pressure grew greater the longer the silence went on. Eventually, he looked up, red eyes meeting blue. Frances expression was serious as he examined Prussias face.
Now...
The meeting ended with nothing resolved. The tension was palpable. Half of England wanted to slap the three of them about a bit, make them stop being so bloody stupid, but the other half was concerned over what could have caused the fission between the bosom buddies. He sighed to himself as he packed up his papers, feeling Frances arms snake around his.
"Lapin~" he purred "Let's go out for dinner tonight. Somewhere nice, just the two of us. It'll be fun."
"I don't feel like going out." Britain answered bluntly "Thanks to you and your friends, this whole conference is turning into a disaster. Between the agenda and your squabbling, I don't have time for fun."
He pulled his arm away, and France was clearly hurt. England walked off, but was soon followed by the Frenchman.
"You can't leave without me." He pointed out "You're staying at my house."
"Well, maybe I shouldn't."
"Eh?"
Britain stopped and looked France dead in the eye.
"With you three at each others throats, and being too stubborn as to explain why, the queen is concerned about the possibility of an international incident! And she's not the only one – the premiers of several countries are getting nervous, including yours! Until you three decide to stop playing silly buggers, it's probably best if I stay in a hotel."
France stopped flat: he clearly couldn't believe what he was hearing. With a sorry sigh, Britain continued on down the hall, soon flanked by China and America.
"So?" China asked immediately.
"They're still being stubborn." Britain confirmed.
"Ai-ya!"
"What's the big deal?" America asked "So, they're having a little fight, that's normal."
"It's normal for you!" China spat at him "European nations don't go picking stupid fights with their neighbours like you do!"
"Those three have been friends for centuries." Britain said more calmly "Even when they've been on the opposite sides of conflicts, they've always been friends. You may not understand this, but their friendship is one of the greatest stabilising factors of the current Eurozone."
"You're right, I don't understand." America admitted.
China and Britain could only look at him in derision.
"How is this child one of the most powerful nations on earth?" China exasperated.
"I'm proud and horrified all at once." Britain admitted.
"Dude, that's mean!"
"Speaking of which," China interrupted, stopping Britain by standing in front of him "Hong Kong is having a cultural festival next month. He wants to know if you can get some of your attractive young royals out there for publicity."
"What? My royals are booked up months in advance! Years even!" Britain reminded him "Especially the attractive ones!"
China crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
"So I'm telling our son 'no' am I?" he said accusingly.
Britain sighed miserably.
"Tell him I'll do what I can." He offered "The Cambridges are busy for certain, but I may be able to get some of the queens other grandchildren."
China smiled. He uncrossed his arms and straitened Britains tie.
"I knew I could count on you." He said "Make sure you bring Hong Kong a big present when you come."
"You-!"
China just smiled, smoothing out the breast of Britains jacket before turning on his heels and leaving with a skip in his step. America guffawed.
"Dude, you just got played!" he teased.
"Oh, shut up, America!" Britain spat, marching off down the other hall.
"You shouldn't tease like that, America."
"Oh, hey, Canada, when did you get here?"
"I've been here the whole time…"
"Oh. Want to grab a burger?"
"Sure."
I wasn't overly fussed about the months the flashbacks took pace, but the Berlin wall came down in November and Le Mans it seems is in June, so there you have it. Was it clearer this time? Let me know what you think!