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SHADOWS ON THE WALLS
Chapter 3
Germany got home late that night. The meeting about what to do about the school system had dragged on and on, and he hadn't wanted to interrupt it no matter how tired he was. As far as he was concerned, it was one of the most important issues at hand.
"I'm back," he announced when he entered, but there was no reply. He could hear the TV in the living room, so he supposed Prussia was too into some movie to hear anything else.
He was a little worried about his brother. He hadn't been sure what to expect when the Wall had come down, but he had thought that Prussia would have opened up to him by now. He had to talk about what Russia had done to him before he could heal, or at least the books Germany had read said so.
It wasn't healthy to keep it all inside and pretend that everything was fine, but it looked like that was exactly what Prussia was doing. Maybe he was in denial and thought that he could forget everything if he enjoyed his new life to the fullest and didn't stop to think about the past.
Germany wasn't sure what to do. He really didn't want to just ask Prussia about such a personal and painful topic. He knew he wasn't good at understanding other people's feelings – most of the time, he could hardly understand his own – and he might just end up hurting Prussia even more with some badly chosen word. Besides, the books said he shouldn't force a victim into talking about their experiences.
He walked to the kitchen to make a quick sandwich. As he mechanically cut himself two slices of sausage, he tried to come up with logical, convincing arguments for Prussia's sake. His brother was strong. Maybe he had already dealt with everything in his own way. Maybe everything was fine after all.
But as Germany stepped into the living room, his mental chart came crashing down.
Prussia was sprawled on the couch, asleep and with half a bottle of vodka cradled in his arms.
Germany swore under his breath. He had been afraid of this. Prussia's new life had kept him distracted for a while, but it hadn't magically made any of his problems disappear. Now that buying things and playing video games didn't help anymore, he had turned to more traditional means to escape the wounds of his past.
He took the bottle from Prussia's hands and placed it on the living room table.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," he said and shook his brother's shoulder.
Prussia didn't wake up, but he muttered something in a slurred voice. Germany didn't understand a word, but he recognised the language and felt his heart break.
Russian.
Germany gritted his teeth. His brother was clearly not over what had happened to him. He was just trying to hide it, maybe because he didn't want to let his little brother think he was weak.
He carried Prussia to his room in the basement and placed him on the bed. He drew a blanket over him and stepped back to watch him sleep.
Prussia wasn't yet ready to return to work. He needed to heal first. Germany didn't know how he'd do it, but somehow he'd find a way to reach out to his brother and help him. He'd make Prussia understand that he was the strongest person Germany had ever known.
Prussia kept an eye on Germany as they were eating dinner. The amount of beer in the house had decreased greatly during the past week. Not because they were drinking it, oh no. It was because Germany wasn't buying it anymore.
Prussia suspected it was the result of his moment of weakness when he had downed nearly half a bottle of vodka by himself. He regretted that now, and not just because Germany was acting like an ass and blowing it out of proportion like he had an alcohol problem or something. The main issue was that he hated the taste of vodka and the memories it brought back. He had no idea why he had suddenly missed that poison enough to drink it again.
"You came early today," Prussia said.
"The meeting went better than expected," Germany replied.
Prussia didn't bother to ask for details. Germany didn't want to talk about work with him, and he was above whining about it. He figured Germany probably wanted everything to calm down and things to run smoothly before he let him help. That was just like him; he always wanted everything to be perfect and organized. But once it all finally worked like a unified country was meant to, surely Germany would accept his help then.
"There's one of America's movies on TV tonight. Wanna watch it?" Prussia asked.
"I don't know if I'll have the time. I have to catch up with my reading."
"You're always reading. When did you turn into a bookworm? And why? You had access to all the best movies and music, and you're still reading. At least tell me it's a good thriller."
"Something like that," Germany said, and Prussia knew that it was nothing like that.
He couldn't understand what had got to his brother lately. The longer they lived together, the more distant they seemed to grow. Germany was always busy. Prussia didn't blame him for that; his brother worked hard so that they could continue to live under the same roof. What he did have a problem with was how Germany spent so much of his free time with his boring-ass hobbies. It was like he was avoiding him.
"Suit yourself. If you want to miss such an awesome movie, it's your own fault," he said.
After dinner, Germany retreated to his study to read while Prussia claimed the whole couch and turned on the TV. The movie wouldn't start in two more hours, but he couldn't think of anything else to do.
He caught the last fifteen minutes of some stupid sitcom that couldn't have interested him less. Then there were the news, but he instantly switched the channel. No need to watch that depressing crap.
The movie finally started. It was the kind of film he loved these days. An American secret agent was kicking communist ass left and right and having sex with at least three different women. He'd have to call America and ask him to send over a box full of VHSs with that kind of stuff.
Every sound from the study made him turn to look at the stairs. Maybe Germany was done with his reading and would come down to watch the rest of the movie with him. Or not. From the sound of it, he had just walked to his bookshelf.
"Psychology," Prussia muttered in distaste. Austria had to have done something to Germany. Why else would he rather read his stuffy books than hang out with his brother? There was no other explanation.
Finally, nearly an hour after the movie had started, there was a creak at the top of the stairs that revealed that Germany had finally left his room. Prussia glued his eyes to the TV screen and didn't turn to look even when he heard his brother come downstairs.
"How is the movie?" Germany asked.
"What? Oh! I didn't notice you at all! It's awesome. The best movie I've ever seen," Prussia said.
Germany came to sit on the couch, so Prussia straightened his back and sat right to give him some space.
"What's the plot?" Germany asked.
"I don't think you can get into it anymore. It's too late. You shouldn't have been reading so much," Prussia said.
"It can't be that complicated. These movies never are."
They fell into silence. Whatever little enjoyment Prussia had got out of the movie was gone now. It was actually worse now that Germany had joined him. He felt even more distant sitting next to him than locked up in his study.
Prussia couldn't understand that. Where was the beer? Where was the long-suffering smile Germany was supposed to flash at him when he cracked some stupid joke? Why was his brother so goddamn serious and worried all the time?
The movie suddenly switched from a car chase to the villain's lair where he had just discovered that his girlfriend had fallen for the charms of the brave hero. The villain gave her slap that sent her on his desk, and soon he was leaning over her, strangling her.
"Let's not watch this," Germany said. He walked to the TV and switched the channel.
"What? Why not? Nothing's gonna happen to her! America made this movie! The hero will be there in a second!" Prussia protested.
"I don't like seeing it. It's not right to use a situation like that for entertainment. Besides, that scene was set up like it was her fault that he attacked her because she had been with another man behind his back."
"It's just fiction!"
Germany stared stubbornly at the TV that was now playing a documentary about frogs. "I just don't like what it implies. It's never the victim's fault, no matter what." At this, he turned to look at Prussia and gave him a long look that Prussia might have described as worried. "You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah, of course I know that."
"I mean... Regardless of the circumstances. The fault is always..."
"I said I know that! Shit, West. It's the first time in a week that we can watch TV together, and you want to talk about crap like that?"
"I think it's important," Germany said.
Prussia threw up his hands. Fuck this, seriously. "Fine. It's important. But I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
In fact, he didn't want to watch TV anymore either. If his brother wanted to be boring and talk shit, he could do that by himself. Prussia could do more entertaining things in the basement.
"Wait, I'm sorry!" Germany called out after him, but Prussia was too pissed off to care. He slammed the basement door shut and hopped on his bed, fuming. Dammit, what had he done to deserve a brother like that?
Germany gritted his teeth and willed the flame of guilt in his heart to die. What he was about to do wasn't right and Prussia would have his head if he ever found out, but he didn't have any other options. It was wrong, but it was also the only choice that felt right.
"So," he started, quickly going through the script he had saved into his mind. "You've been saying that you'd like to help me with work."
Prussia looked up from the comic book he was reading while he ate his cereal. "Yeah! Do you have something for me?"
His brother looked so eager and happily surprised that Germany almost changed his mind about his plan. But no, he had to go through with this. "There's a new museum that will open next weekend in Husum. It has been largely funded by respected members of the society, so the boss wants someone official to be present," he said.
"You want me to open some museum?" Prussia asked after regarding him with a long look.
Germany almost felt relieved. "Well, if you don't want to –"
"I'll do it! Just where is this Husum? Is it even in Germany?"
"It's in Schleswig-Holstein, not that far away from the Danish border. One of the donators is from Denmark, so he might be there as well."
"Cool," Prussia said, eyes shining. "Then it's like an international event! You can count on me, West. I can so do this job!"
"Good," Germany said. Well, he had one problem less to worry about now.
His boss had given him a terrible surprise the previous day. A couple of politicians from the Soviet Union were arriving. That alone wouldn't have been a problem, but they were bringing Russia along. And apparently Russia had requested to be invited to dinner at Germany's house.
Germany had tried to say no, but all of his arguments had been shot down. Even now when the Soviet Union had grown so weak, his politicians were still afraid of what might happen if they crossed them. Besides, his boss had argued, it was just a dinner. What could go wrong?
Well, his boss didn't have a brother who had been violated by Russia and was still struggling with it. Germany knew he couldn't possibly bring Russia to their house or at least let Prussia know he had been there. Despite their original intention of moving to a bigger place, the house had turned into their home. It was probably the safest place in Prussia's life. Germany couldn't shatter that by allowing his abuser to enter it.
So, Prussia had to leave the house for all of Saturday. Germany would delete all the evidence of Russia ever having been there. Prussia would never find out, so it wouldn't hurt him. Or at least that was how Germany justified his actions to himself. He wasn't technically lying to him; he just wouldn't tell him everything.
He took Prussia to the train station early on Saturday morning when there wasn't yet a hint of sunlight on the sky and when the biting cold made one want to withdraw into oneself. Germany had his hands tucked firmly in his pockets, but Prussia didn't seem to mind the chill. His cheeks were aflame with excitement as he kept looking over the disorganized scribbles that he claimed were notes.
"You sure you don't want to come along? You're going to miss my awesome speech!"
"I have to prepare a few things for Monday. Sorry," Germany said.
"Nah, no problem. Just make sure you'll be there next time, okay?"
"Of course."
Prussia grinned at that, but Germany couldn't tell if it was because he had said he'd come or because of the indirect promise that there was going to be a next time. In either case, Prussia looked so happy as the train finally came and he climbed on board that Germany was momentarily able to forget his gnawing guilt at what he was doing.
Once the train was out of sight, Germany turned around and started walking back to his car. The worst was still ahead. Somehow, he'd have to tolerate Russia and try to be civil to him. There'd be nobody to stop him if he lost his temper. He'd just have to try to endure it.
Germany tried to calm down by organizing the defence of their house. He locked the door to the basement so that Russia wouldn't be able to go there even by accident. He hid all of Prussia's belongings and made it look like he wasn't even living with him. There could be nothing left that would give Russia a reason to mention Prussia.
Once that was taken care of, Germany started cooking. He even baked a cake to soothe his nerves. By the time he saw Russia get off a black car and stop to admire their house on the pavement, he was almost sure he could make it through the day.
"Hello, Germany. So nice of you to invite me," Russia said as Germany opened the door to let him in.
"Don't mention it," Germany said, deciding to ignore that Russia had practically invited himself.
Russia took off his long coat and the scarf that usually hid his neck and chin from view. Germany couldn't remember the last time he had seen Russia without them, so he was a little startled by the simple, grey pullover the nation was wearing. And not just that. It looked like Russia had lost some weight since he had last met him.
"It's not quite so cold anymore," Russia said with a smile as he noticed Germany staring at him.
"True."
He led Russia to the living room where the larger nation proceeded to admire the couch and the Bavarian landscapes that Germany had hung on the walls. There was nothing threatening about any of his words or movements, and yet Germany couldn't tear his eyes off his guest. Seeing Russia up close always brought a bad taste to his mouth. Had he smiled like that when he had –
"You have a very beautiful house, Germany," Russia said pleasantly, turning to look at him.
"Thank you," Germany said. "I think dinner is almost ready. Would you like to eat now?" The sooner they ate, the sooner he could try to get Russia out.
"That would be nice."
Since the house was so small, they didn't have a dining room separate from the kitchen. Germany apologized for that as they settled down, but Russia assured him it was fine. It had a homey feel to it, he said.
"It's been a while since I last had German food for dinner. I developed a taste for it over the years," he said.
"Ah," was all that Germany could bring himself to say. He busied himself with moving his smashed potatoes around the plate.
"But I have one question. Where is Prussia?"
Germany clenched his fork so hard in his fingers that it hurt, but he barely noticed that. He had known the question would come. He was certain that it was the sole reason for Russia's visit. The bastard had just come to show his face, to tell Prussia that even if he had escaped his clutches, he was not safe. Because Russia could invite himself over to their house. Because he would be at world meetings.
"He's not here," he said.
"Yes, the house is very clean. Prussia is a bit of a messy person," Russia said, and the affection in his voice nearly made Germany gag.
"It's too bad," Russia continued. "I was hoping I could speak with him."
"What do you want from my brother? You have no business with him anymore."
Russia lowered his eyes for a moment. If Germany hadn't known what he was capable of, he might have thought he looked nearly vulnerable as he stared at the half-eaten food on his plate.
"The atmosphere in my house is changing. I think everyone is going to leave me soon. The Soviet Union will be dissolved," Russia said. When he turned to look at Germany, there was a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "I know it's not quite the same thing. I will still have Russia to my name. But I was hoping that your brother could tell me what it feels like."
It took a long time before Germany could control his voice again. "You want Prussia to tell you about his dissolution?" he asked, not quite ready to believe that.
"Yes, but I also wanted to say hello. It's been a while since I last saw him, and I've missed him a little," Russia said.
"Prussia hasn't told about that even to me. What makes you think he would ever talk to you?" Germany asked. He heard the outrage in his voice, but he didn't care. All his guilt about making Prussia leave was forgotten.
"He used to talk to me about many things. Even things he said he hadn't told you about," Russia pointed out.
"Well, not anymore. He doesn't belong to you. You've done enough to hurt him, and I will make sure you'll never again be near him!"
Russia frowned in confusion. "I am not here to threaten anyone."
"I don't care why you came here. You aren't welcome at my house."
"Ah, that's not nice, Germany," Russia said. In the past, Germany would have read malicious amusement and superiority into his words. Now Russia sounded... He couldn't really tell; the tone was too off. Confused? Disappointed? In any case, Russia wasn't acting like the bloodthirsty monster he'd seen him as for decades.
Russia lifted his hand to his neck, like he wanted to play with his scarf, but then he seemed to remember that he wasn't wearing it.
"I didn't do anything when you broke the Wall. I let Prussia come to you. I didn't try to stop your reunification even when England and France asked me to. I was hoping you would appreciate that," he said.
Germany looked at Russia, and he suddenly realised what this was all about. Russia was a nation who had taken over many others and forced them to live with him and follow his ideology. That artificial family he had built for himself was about to break apart, and he would be surrounded by neighbours who feared and resented him.
It would be years before Russia would have his country stable again. He'd need much longer before he could even hope to win the trust of the other nations. It was a lonely future for someone who had lived in a house full of people for almost the entire century.
Germany of all people knew what it was like to have strong and influential politicians who nearly made your chest burst with pride and the passion of their ideology. He knew what it felt like to be so certain that he was doing the right thing and that the rest of the world was wrong. He also knew how difficult it was to carry the weight of past mistakes that were so horrifying that nobody would ever forget them.
At that moment, he felt compelled to reach out and if not help, then at least pity Russia. He hated himself for that at the same time. This man had inflicted such wounds on his brother that they might never heal. He didn't deserve pity or compassion.
"If... If Prussia can forgive you, maybe I can as well," he heard himself say. "But not now. It's too soon, and there is still so much work to do."
"I'm not sure I understand," Russia said.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Germany snarled. "Maybe you thought you were being careful. Maybe it's because of something you've done or said that Prussia won't talk to me. But I know exactly how you've hurt him! I have proof!"
He yearned to see fear flash in Russia's eyes, even if it was only a fraction of the fear his brother had lived with for decades. However, Russia was still staring at him like he had no idea what he was talking about. Could it be that he didn't see anything wrong with his actions? Maybe he thought it had been consensual or for Prussia's own good? Had Russia been moulding him into what he wanted, an obedient lackey?
The thought made his stomach clench, and the temptation to understand Russia's point of view vanished at once.
"But –"
"Enough! Out!"
Russia stared at him like he had gone out of his mind, but then he flashed him a forced smile.
"Fine. I can see I'm not a welcome guest. Too bad. I think we could have been great friends," he said and got up.
Germany followed Russia to the door and watched him put his coat and scarf back on. That was comforting; Russia looked more like himself again.
"I'm not very happy when people throw me out," Russia announced.
Germany snorted. "Your ominous remarks are no longer threatening. After you've been dissolved and are all alone, I hope you'll finally realise that it's all your own fault," he said.
Russia's smile turned so icy that Germany was sure he could feel the temperature in the room drop.
"Unlike your brother, I won't be dissolved for good. When I'm strong again, I will remember who has been nice to me and who hasn't," he said. He gave Germany a small wave as he opened the door and stepped outside. "I'll think of especially you on that day. Thank you for the dinner. It was lovely."
Germany remained by the door and watched Russia walk away on the pavement. He didn't move until the other nation had stepped behind a corner and was no longer in sight. At that moment, all his anger left him, and he stumbled back inside.
His boss was going to be furious with him. Germany always did everything to perfection; he never disobeyed orders. And now he had thrown out and insulted a nation who, despite what he had said, still was and would always be a powerful presence in Europe.
He scanned the kitchen and the unfinished remains of their dinner. He should clean up and do the dishes. To be sure, he'd have to air the house so that Prussia wouldn't recognise the scent of Russia's cologne. And all of Prussia's things needed to be put back where they belonged.
But he'd do that later, he decided. Now he was too exhausted. There was no need to hurry. Prussia wouldn't be back until the next day.
Prussia was staring out of the window of the train, feeling irritated. Bare and brown landscape was flashing past his eyes. It would be almost midnight by the time he arrived home. It might have been a good idea to stay in Husum for the night, just like he had planned, but those plans had changed when he had found out a few interesting details about the whole ordeal.
The museum he had been asked to open had been pitiful, barely a local attraction. When he had arrived there, full of energy and psyched to give his speech, only a handful of people had been present. None of them had been these highly respected donators that Germany had mentioned.
Denmark hadn't been there either. After wasting his awesome speech on a bunch of grannies and a school class who had been dragged there by their teacher, Prussia had stomped outside to find a phone booth. He had called Denmark and asked where the heck he was. He had been disappointed – but not really surprised – when Denmark hadn't had any idea what he had been talking about.
It was starting to look like Germany had given him a total crap job. Prussia wouldn't have minded so much if he had known that from the start, but Germany's words had led him to believe that he'd be doing something important. Being duped wasn't fun, especially when the culprit was his brother.
If it had been anyone else, Prussia would have thought it was all a joke. Germany didn't joke, so there had to be another reason. At first he had considered the possibility that his brother had simply wanted to make him happy and give him something – anything – to do. But that didn't add up. There were countless other jobs he could have done in Berlin alone. There was no need to send him that far away just to watch some old geezer make his stamp collection public.
He frowned as he kept staring out the window. It was already too dark to see anything but the lights of the houses in the distance.
Could it be that Germany didn't trust him with anything bigger? Maybe he had wanted to test him first? But this hadn't been much of a test; anyone could be present when a museum was opened. And Germany knew what he was capable of. Hell, Prussia had taught him how to run a country!
Once in Berlin, he rode the U-Bahn and then took the bus to get home. There was no light in any of the windows that could be seen from the street, so Germany had to be in bed. Prussia made as much noise as possible as he let himself in.
He turned on the light in the hallway and was about to take off his coat, but the sight of the clothes stand made him stop. It looked awfully empty, but it took a moment before everything clicked to place in his mind.
His leather jacket and scarf were gone. How strange, had Germany taken them out to be washed?
Frowning, he put away his coat and took off his shoes. He wandered into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Everything there was spotless as usual, but a new surprise was waiting for him when he opened the cupboard to get his bunny mug. It wasn't there, nor in the dishwasher.
"Is this the right house?" he asked out loud as he stood in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his hips. He didn't mind the jacket, but Germany knew not to touch his mug without asking first.
He was too tired to wonder about that now. He'd do that in the morning. First he'd get some sleep and – and why the hell was the door to his room locked? Had he done that before he had left?
Prussia returned to the kitchen to get the key (they only had one, so Germany didn't let him keep it because he believed he'd lose it) and opened the door. He turned on the light and went down the stairs, but he stopped to stand in the middle of them and stared at the sight that greeted him.
His coat was folded neatly on his bed. The missing mug stood on his desk. A number of other items he hadn't even realised were gone littered the room, including all of his shoes and even his bottle of shampoo.
For a moment, he could only stand and gawk. It couldn't be anyone else but Germany who had done this, but why?
"Hey, West!" he bellowed as he turned around and marched back to the kitchen and then upstairs to Germany's bedroom. To his surprise, it was empty, so he continued to his brother's study.
That was where he found Germany. He was sprawled on his desk, having fallen asleep on top of the paperwork he had been reading. At some point, he had knocked over his reading lamp. If Prussia hadn't been feeling so tired and irritated, he might have found the scene amusing.
"Wake up!" he snarled and shook Germany's shoulder.
"...what?" Germany mumbled, straightened his form and stared at him in confusion, still half asleep. Then his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. "Prussia! What are you doing here?"
"I live here," Prussia said. "Or at least I think so. Why are all my things in the basement?"
"I... put them there," Germany stammered, looking very much like a deer caught in headlights. Prussia was reminded of how his brother had been younger and he had caught him jerking off for the time.
"Why?"
"I was going to clean the house and... It was just easier to plan and organize everything that way."
Prussia snorted. "Yeah, right. Then why is everything else in its proper place?"
"Well..."
"You have no idea what a shitty day I had. It's not exactly fun to come home and see that everything I own has been dumped in the basement. It's like you –" He stopped before he could finish, the sudden idea hitting him like a brick to the face and feeling just about as nice. His eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother with new suspicion.
"It's like you wanted me out of the house and then tried to hide the fact that I live here. You would only do that if someone was coming over and you didn't want them to know about me," he said. That was stupid, of course. Everybody knew the two of them were living together. Except normal people.
The guilty look on Germany's face told him more than any words could have. So, he had had someone over.
"Great," Prussia said sulkily and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You could have just told me you were ashamed of me. I could have picked up my clothes in the living room or washed the toilet or something."
"I'm not ashamed of you! Never that!"
"Yeah, but you still lied to me to make me leave and hid all my things. Just who the hell was so important that you had to do that?" Prussia asked. He tried to suppress the ache that came from imagining Germany meticulously removing all of his things from sight and making the house look perfect – making it look like Germany's house, all neat and organized with no sign of Prussia anywhere.
"It had better be someone damn good, West," he added. Like a super hot date.
"There was a business dinner," Germany said.
That told Prussia more than enough. A business dinner meant politicians. Politicians probably meant something about the after effects of the reunification. Since Germany had seen it necessary to get him out of the house, that seemed more than likely.
"I see," he said.
"It's not that I didn't want you to be there. I just..."
Prussia's anger was bubbling inside him, making him feel hot and curl his toes. He wanted to yell at Germany and tell him that he knew that was exactly what he had wanted, but he was afraid to. Because if he pushed Germany far enough, he might say that he was right. It was much better to swallow his anger if that let him pretend that this was something else than what the voice inside him was whispering into his ear.
"Okay," he said shakily."Whatever. It was just a business dinner."
As he spoke, his eyes stole a look at Germany's desk and the paperwork his brother had been sleeping on. It was as if the words and numbers were laughing at him, but he couldn't turn away. Just as he had expected. This confirmed his suspicions.
Germany followed Prussia's gaze and started putting the papers away. "I wanted to put everything back in place before you came back," he said.
"Yeah, sorry for not wanting to stick around in that boring place. Even Denmark wasn't there," Prussia said.
Germany winced. "I'm sorry. I was told it would be a more significant event."
"Whatever. I guess it was still better than nothing."
Germany looked even guiltier at that. Serves him right, Prussia thought with malice that was wonderful and sickening at the same time.
"I'll put everything back tomorrow. You don't have to worry about that," Germany said. "And please don't think I wanted to keep you out of this or am ashamed of you. The person I had dinner with is particularly difficult."
"A Bavarian, huh? Prussia cracked a smile that he hoped was convincing. It didn't mean shit if Germany said he wasn't ashamed of him. His actions spoke otherwise, and the paperwork he had just spied gave him the perfect reason to.
"Yes," Germany said, and if he was trying the same thing, he was failing hard. His smile could barely be called one.
Prussia ran his fingers through his hair. God, he was going to crack if he stayed here for much longer.
"I guess it's good night then," he said.
"Yes, good night."
Prussia almost ran through the house down to the basement. He slammed the door shut and leaned his back against it, not willing to go down the stairs and see all of his things in perfect rows in his room.
Fucking Germany. All of his earlier strange behaviour made sense now. Prussia felt like an idiot for not having realised it sooner. It was understandable, he supposed, and he tried to tell himself that he didn't blame Germany. He would done the same if their roles had – fucking hell, no he wouldn't have! He had way more class than that.
Who had raised a strong nation out of that snotty little brat? Who had unified the German states into a functional country? And now that ungrateful bastard couldn't even be honest with him and kept lying to his face.
"I guess what they said about capitalist assholes wasn't so wrong after all," Prussia muttered as he blinked rapidly so that he wouldn't have to wipe his eyes. The brother he had known before everything had gone to hell would have never treated him like this.
