Disclaimer-Don't own Hetalia
Note- Thank you all the wonderful reviews :D There will be a note at the end explaining a few historical things. Last chapter I put * next to Slav. I meant to explain "slavization" (sp?). Gilbert is siding with Ludwig's boss as far as favoring Germans. Think about where poor Gilbert lives, right under Ivan's lead pipe of doom D8
Because Italy had planned an elaborate meal and Germany had to still finish a mountain of paper work Leos was left to his own devices. After spending most of the day on the swing, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick, and attempting to climb a tree he decided to find some sort of inside entertainment. After shedding the layers of clothing Germany had painstakingly dressed him in he went to the living room to see if any of the old checkers had been laying around. Unable to find the game stared at the fire a bit. He sat in its warm embrace, his one piece underwear clung to his wrists and ankles but draping elsewhere. Taking one of the pokers he prodded the flames, his clothing hanging. From his office Germany spotted him and shot up from his desk.
"Leos," He said, "That is very dangerous, please put it back and don't play with the fire." His voice was stern, but a hint of worry softened it. Leos did as he was told and began to look around the room, bored yet again.
"Leos, there may be some old toys in the attic from when I was young. You can try and find them," Germany suggested as he signed a stack of papers. Leos trotted off and bounded up the stairs. Opening the door to the attic he searched around for a light. His fingers twirled around a grimy old string, he yanked and a light flickered on.
The attic was small and cluttered with boxes. About the only room that wasn't pristine in it's organization. Dust had coated the cardboard and old pictures and paintings had been left skewn about. Some had labels on them, while others were tapped shut in such a frantic looking manner that Leos dare not open it. In the far back of the room Leos came upon a box that was marked 'old stuff' that didn't look too well sealed. Working at the edges of the tape he peeled back the seal and flipped open the the folds.
Nothing but books and magazines, a frown dipped on the boy's face. He pulled a random one from the tightly packed box and dropped it. He heart thumped as he stared at the cover. A cold chill came over him, and a voice inside him warned that he may not be allowed in this box. Having no idea what the material was before, he felt curious but some how fearful. The cover itself posed a series of questions that whipped around Leos' brain.
The was a woman on the cover, a whip in hand, nude and bent over a chair with her back end hitched up. The cover was bright, glossy, and even with obvious use it had been carefully kept. Leos looked back into the book, only to find similar ones.
"Leos are you okay up her-" Germany had frozen on the stairs. His jaw dropped opened, his son rummaging through his collection of magazines.
"L-Le-Leos..." Germany's peripheral vision faded to black, his focus only on the boy with a hardcore porn magazine in his hands. Felling the blood drain from his face he tried to regain composure. Rushing over to him he swiftly picked up his collection and fumbled to get the box closed.
"Th-those magazines are not for you," Germany said as he finally got the box shut. Turning back to Leos he notice a magazine in his hands, looking at it as causally as a newspaper. Leos cocked his head as he looked at the images,
"Do you like women?" Leos asked, Germany plucked the paper from his son's and and once again popped the box open.
"Of course I like women, I am a man." Germany said tried to hide his embarrassment. Leos was silent for a moment and looked at the floor boards.
"Well... I hate them," He hissed, Germany stiffened. The voices in his head got way too loud and he lost track of how much time had past before he turned to face Leos.
"Don't say that," Germany said resting his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Don't ever let those words pass your lips again." Leos curled away from his father,
"But... I do hate them, I hate them, how could you like them?" He asked,
"Don't speak like that." Germany's voice was solid, Leos coward away from him. "Come on, lets find something for you downstairs." Leos obediently followed Germany down the stairs. Germany face was blushed a bright red. The millions of sounds in his skull began to settle when he felt a tug at his sleeve.
"I'm sorry Papa," Leos whispered, Germany slid his hand down the boys back and patted him.
"It's okay," He said
Wait, what would a father do if his son stated something so bold? I should question him, probably. But what if he is one of those homosexuals? What if... No, they would take him away... Wait, the mental trauma, his mother, that must be it. He probably doesn't hate women per say but just hasn't been treated well by them so far... Hmmm, well, maybe if I explain it to him he will understand.
"Son, come sit with me in my office." He said as they rounded the corner into the living room. He sat Leos in a chair next to his and closed the door. He began his paperwork, trying to set a causal atmosphere before questioning his son. Leos kicked his legs out in a swinging motion,watching them rise and fall.
"Leos, why did you say you hate women?" Germany asked, Leos shrugged,
"They are mean," He answered,
"How many women were mean to you?"
"One,"
"You mother?" Leos nodded, "Well, there are many good women in the world too." Germany said. Leos was quiet. "I know, at the next world conference, lets introduce you to Hungary, she is a very kind young lady." Germany suggested.
"They are all mean," Leos said, "Every one of them in that house watched... They turned away as she did those things. They could have helped, but they didn't." It was the second time Leos had acid in his voice. Hate. No word could describe it better and Germany twitched when Leos' voice dipped low.
"What did they do to you?" Germany bit his lip, he hadn't thought of what he was saying. Leos' leg dangled and he sat silent in his chair. Simply shaking his head he went back to kicking his feet out. Germany sighed.
The family budget laid before him, staring him down like a Frenchmen and Germany wanted to strangle it. Leos' laughter could be heard from inside, looking out the window Germany watched him draw faces on the stones with chalk and line them up. His face was glowing with happiness as he arranged the rocks, Germany was thankful he was entertained so easily. Turning back to the paper he cringed. Even with his well off salary, most if went to food and taxes. With all the rationing it was hard to get extras beside the basics. Leos ate almost as much as Italy, Germany himself ate double what Italy did and still he occasionally had hunger nipping at his stomach.
Meat was the first thing to go, if lucky twice a month he may be able to indulge his family with pickled pork meat or wurst. That would save about seven Marks a month. Cheese was next, something Italy wouldn't be happy about. But five Marks would be something to save. Next came down to the staples. Rice was far too expensive now, already largely an import crop, gone. It was cut to potato dishes, pea dishes, soups, bread flours, milk, and any other native vegetable that was cheap.
Sighing he folded the paper and went to the kitchen where Italy was putting the finishing touches on his meal.
"Italy, we need to talk about the budget," Germany said,
"Oh? Is the mark already being used as paper weight?"
"Wh- No! We are spending too much. The war has but some restraints on food rations and this family is eating a lot of my salary up. From now on, I'm afraid it will be blander dishes. Meat will be rare and I am sorry but no more cheese." Germany announced, Italy's face dropped,
"But, what will we put on the pasta?"
"Oh... That is another thing... Please don't get fancy with the pasta. Make it yourself at home with simple tomato sauce. All this wine, cream, its all costing a fortune."
"What if we grow a 'Victory Garden'?" Italy asked,
"Excuse me?"
"America does it! They buy seeds and plant home gardens. It is just enough for the family or to lift some of the burden of the budget. We can grow tomatoes and peas and peppers and-"
"Italy, its winter... The ground is frozen." Germany's logic squashed Italy's excitement.
"Right now bread is about 8 cents, eggs 5 cents a piece, and other vegetable varying from 3 to 7 cents a pound*. Kidney meat is already 38 cents a pound raw, it shrinks in half when its cooked, barely enough for a topping! If we want ground meat for your pasta it is also about 38 cents per pound. It's madness the prices. The cheapest I can get from the market is tough beef for boiling in soup with a bone for 31 cents but if I get that we must crack open the bone and use the very marrow with in. We are going to have to be resourceful this winter, nothing can go to waste."
"Yes, Captain!" Italy said
The three of them had abandoned all tables manners and regard for politeness as they woofed down the meal. It was the first real wholesome meal Germany had since his arrival home. While Italy had made three pounds of pasta, expecting some left overs, all was consumed rapidly. Germany found himself licking his plate clean, as did Leos. Italy watched amused, wondering if it was really that good or if they were truly that hungry. The basket of bread, too, was being devoured at an alarming rate.
"I am going to miss butter on my bread," Italy said,
"It tastes just as good," Germany said through his full mouth. Italy shrugged,
"Sweet, butter, this is the last time we meet." He mumbled as he took at bite. Just as Germany was about to scold him for complaining, for at least they had food, a knock came to the door. Excusing himself, Germany walked to the front, Leos twisting around to see.
In the doorway was a man with another telegram. Accepting it, Germany looked puzzled. He had never seen such a long telegram before. Why had the persona simply not called? He began to read it and stiffened. Slowly his jaw opened, his eye twitched. The aura changed in the house, stress pulsing from the blond man.
"Um... Germany?" Italy squeaked,
"I'm dead!" Germany exclaimed, "Why of all times now? This is going to be impossible!"
"Ummm, Germany?"
"I-I have to start preparing! There is not much time! Oh, how on Earth?"
"It appears as if Germany is having a meltdown," Italy said to Leos,
"Papa lost his vital regions?" He asked,
"I think he lost is Reason Regions..." Italy mumbled as he watched Germany go into an uncharacteristic panic.
"Germany, what is wrong? Ve-"
"... I got invited to dinner... Well, no... I am ordered to attend a dinner at the Fuhrer's private estate..." Germany trembled.
"Isn't that an honor?"
"Are you completely out of touch? Everything must be perfect! He ordered Leos come as well, oh we need to get a suit and tie, a gift, some new socks, a-"
"Germany!" Italy snapped his friend back into reality. "Don't get worked up over it, its just a dinner. Besides, if your boss wanted to lace into you, he'd have called you into his office right? So this could turn out well."
"Well, It could be an opportunity to get to know him better... Perhaps when he see how hard I work he will lighten up a bit. Maybe I can even help improve some of his plans. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to make things better." Germany held his chin and began to think, already debating on what he would change about his government.
"That is the Germany I know!"
"Still... How am I going to afford a new suit for Leos. Socks, shoes, I have to go recalculate the budget." Germany said walking back to his office.
A few minutes later Germany laid out before them, not a budget outline, but a gun. His rifle. In the metal was etched the eagle and hakenkruez. The wood, though scuffed from battle, was bright in contrast with the barrel.
"Instead of cutting essentials from our diet, I will provide them through hunting. There are plenty of deer and boar in these woods and one animal could provide pounds of meat, fat and hide." Germany announced. Leos stared at the weapon, his face blank. Italy sighed,
"But the cute little-"
"They are food," Germany cut Italy off, "Meat in your pasta, fat to cook in, wurst to eat, and bones for soup. Any extra by products will be added to the wast heap soil and turned in preparation for a garden this spring. Any trophies will be sold."
"I guess it sounds reasonable," Italy agreed. "But isn't that the gun you fight with? Aren't those bullets expensive?"
"The army foots the bill. Besides, I'll do my best to preform a one shot one kill and not waste."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Once they agreed hunting would be their way of survival, Germany had set out all his gear for the morning. Leos watched as his father arranged his boots, weapon, coat, knifes, and bullets. Germany felt his son's eyes on his back.
"Something wrong Leos?" He asked, Leos came to his side and wrapped himself around his leg.
"Don't shoot any baby ones." He said, "Or Daddy ones, okay?" Leos asked. Germany laid his large hand the boys head.
"I won't," Germany said as he picked him up. The ease at which Germany could pick Leos up disturbed him some. The boy was too light. Yet, while covered, his face showed no signs of starvation. Always happy and round. His body however was bone, and Germany could feel the weak skeleton wiggle in his hands. The chest expanding with every laugh, his tiny ribs pressing against Germany's large soft palms.
I will kill for your survival He thought. Leos wrapped himself around his father's muscles and hung on as Germany playfully swung him around.
"Alright, Alright, I have to go to the bathroom. Why don't you set out a checker game? I'm sure Italy would love to play.
Germany had just situated himself before the toilet. Just has his bladder relaxed the door slammed open. Twisting his head around his face blushed.
"Italy! You don't just walk in while someone is taking a piss!" He scolded,
"Ve, I have to pee too,"
"Hold it!" Germany exclaimed as he tried to cover himself. Turning, his clothing at his ankles restricted him.
"Italy!"
"Ger-Germany... What is that?" Italy asked,
"My dick! Now leave me to my business!"
"No, no... On the back of your thigh..." Italy crept closer. Germany fumbled with himself and final got back in his underwear. Italy was right against him,
"This looks painful, you didn't feel this?" Italy questioned,
"I had a little pain in my leg, but not severe enough to worry about... Why, is it that bad?" Germany asked in a softer tone. Italy moved the skin on Germany's leg. It looked like a sore, large and crusted over. Roughly the size of a fist, it was superficial but looked infected.
"It needs a bandage and Iodine for sure, where did you get it?" Italy asked,
"Inner political issue probably... But never mind, will you help me bandage it? I can't reach back there." Germany said. Italy nodded as he opening the cabinet. Germany leaned against the wall, letting Italy work on him. He felt the singeing of the iodine pour into his sore, then the clothe patting it dry. Resting his forehead against the wall, guilt bubbled in his chest.
"Fe-Feliciano... I apologize," He said, Italy looked up his brown eyes wide.
"Why?"
"I've been far to hard on you... You didn't deserve it. I am thankful, Feliciano, that you are here to help with Leos... To cook, to tend the house while I am gone... To tend to me," Germany said. Italy stood back a moment.
"That is what friends do Ludwig, Ve, you haven't many friends?"
"No,"
"That is very sad. Ludwig is a very fun friend to have and very kind, the others are missing out!" Italy announced happily. "And Leos is a pleasure. It's scary when he is hurt, but for the most part he is easy, so don't worry. Besides, that radio of your kept him entertained for hou-"
"You... You opened the radio?" Ludwig asked,
"Well, yes..."
"..."
"..."
"... Italy, I don't believe you want to know what is going on. If you turn on the radio, you may want to change it to a more... Nicer program," He suggested. "Anway, I am going to go... Clean the attic, don't disturb me..." Germany blushed.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Leos was stuck to his father's hand as he lead him down old streets to a back row of shops. The area was largely poor and in need of repairs. Many of the homes looked empty, victims of vandalism and weather abuse. Windows were knocked out of some homes while others boarded up. Germany had taken the time to put on his uniform and weapon when they left. His large boots stepping heel to toe, his posture perfect. Leos looked incredibly weak next to him, bundled in his tiny coat and gloved with a scarf wrapped around his head.
Some of the shops, too, were empty. All of the abandoned ones had the windows smashed and interior looted of all valuable coppers, metals, and wood. The shops were not those Germany usually went too. He had driven far to come here, past miles of country side and forest. This town seemed depressed, but the reason for their visit became clear once Leos looked into the still open shops.
Price. This area had cheaper goods and with the car Germany could buy in bulk. The list of goods and their prices were displayed in most of the windows. Some even said no ration stamps needed. Certainly a seedy area, but none the less serving it's purpose. One of the shops was a clothing store which was quiet active.
Upon entering Leos' jaw dropped, amazed at the sheer mass of clothing. All sizes, all types, shoes, socks, coats, anything one could think of. The old pawn and thrift shop of their home town paled in comparison to the selection. Many people were searching through things, mostly winter coats. Germany lead him to a small section and was looking through some suits. He held one up occasionally to Leos' small frame and would often put it back. Finally he found one, very old, but nice looking suit. Deciding some minor alterations would cause it to fit well enough, Germany selected it. The whole time his hand did not let go of his son's hand, and it became awkward as he juggled the clothing.
At the counter they waited in line, in front of them was a group of soldiers buying some canned goods and plates. The food and delicate items were kept behind the counter on shelves which the clerk strained to reach. Next to the register was an old scale, which one of the soldiers dropped bits of shiny metal on. Leos leaned over a bit to look around his father. Gold, shaped in tiny oval pieces. Mixed in were some bands and rings with the stones missing. After some adding and subtracting of the gold the scale fell even and the clerk took the 'currency' and handed over the food and plates. Leos tugged at his father's sleeve.
"How come they pay in gold while we pay in marks?" He asked,
"Shhhh," Germany soothed, his eyes down cast.
"Good evening sir," The clerk said,
"Good evening,"
"My what a rare sight it is to a father and son about these days, especially a soldier with his child." The clerk said as he tallied the items up, "Are you going to be a soldier when you grow up?" He asked, Leos hid further behind his father. Germany put a hand on his son's back,
"Answer him," He said, Leos looked back at the clerk, his silvery eyes made the clerk twitch at the boy's unsettling stare.
"Yes sir, I want to be just like Papa," Right after Leos spoke he slink behind Germany. The clerk smiled and handed him the clothing.
"Might you know where to find some baked good or sweets? I have a friend who really deserves something special." Germany said,
"Down about too blocks, make a left and go to the end of the street. That baker had some pastry filled with custard. Quiet expensive but they should still be there. He also makes cheap breads and such."
"Thank you si-" Germany was cut off by loud crash. Leos jumped and dug his nails into his father's leg. The clerk went pale, his mouth open. Germany's eyes drifted to a closet door that had been nailed shut. The bottom of the door was chipped in the center, large enough to fit a foot under. The haggard old wood was scuffed, dust coated, and looked untouched.
Germany let go of Leos' hand and gestured him to stay. He stood in front of the door, eying it. From the little bit of light the pooled from the glass window he saw the flash of an eye and hair. The clerk was stiff, pretending like everything was casual, however he fail miserably. Quivering, his face went white and his eyes widened in horror. Germany calm walked back to the clerk, leaned over the counter so his lips were at the clerks ear.
"Get them out of here or I will report you," He breathed,
"Y-your n-not going to k-kill m-m-"
"No," Germany answered, cutting off the stuttering man. Politely Germany smiled and acted as if nothing was wrong. He gently held Leos' hand and walked from the store. Right after, the clerk locked the doors and flip the sign to closed. Drawing the blinds down to conceal his activity.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Meeeow," The cat sat behind the sink in the window watching Italy wash potatoes. The man's hands worked quickly to peel and sort them. Germany was a fine cook, but often his meals were lacking creativity. The night before was potatoes with a piece of roasted venison. Italy offered to just take over the kitchen even when Germany was home. So he planned the 'menu' each day to be something slightly different. Tonight he would simmer potatoes and then fry them in oil and herbs, side it with Venison ribs that were seared then roasted and an array of cheap vegetables, all he had to do was garish with a light gravy.
"You know Kitty, we are really lucky. Most families are starving but because we live away from the city Germany can hunt for our food. Ve, he is a good provider. I worry though, he may over work himself. He has only been home a couple days from battle. The dinner at his bosses house must be stressing him out... I wish I were strong, or more helpful, but it seems even if I try I just make things worse..." Italy sighed, "But at least I can keep his belly full! You know what they say, 'an army marches on their stomachs!'" The cat meowed again after Italy's speech. "So really, I have the most important job!" The cat grumbled as Italy held up a spoon drenched in gravy. It's eyes yearned for the thick, meaty, sauce.
"No, you have a job to do too. Go mousing if your hungry," The cats ears feel to the side, standing it leapt forth and stole the spoon from Italy's hand. Taking off with the spoon, Italy gave chase for a moment before being drawn back to the boiling pot of water that was over flowing at the rim.
While the vegetable we set in the fridge Italy monitored the ribs, basting them in between his housework chores. His years in under Austria's dominating glare had now come in handy. His pride would be in making the home, not on the battlefield. Italy of course thought this alternative role was better, who would wish to be among the carnage and horrors of war? Not anyone, but most of all he.
From the corner of his eye he saw the cat wander back in, its rough tongue gliding over its muzzle. The cat sat and began to groom itself, content as could be. Italy silently stalked up behind it, planning his payback. A quick hug, no harm done, he planned. But Italy stiffened as he looked to what was sprawled next to the cat.
"Ewww, Kitty!" Italy whined, a sparrow was torn apart all over the hardwood floors. The feathers as blanketed the surrounding area, and the wounds were seeping fluids on the floor. Italy hurried to get some towels and water.
"Your making my life harder Kitty! Go hunt some mice!" Italy moaned while cleaning up. The cat merely watched him, pleased as he could be. The smell hit Italy's nose and he gagged a bit. He picked up the body of bird and proceeded to toss it outside the home when he noticed something.
The bird was no fresh kill, this animal was rotting. The odor permeated from the carcass, foul and pungent. And though the cat may have roughed it up a bit, the also would have eaten his own kill. Why on earth the cat would drag long dead things into the house? Italy shook the question from his mind and tossed the body as far into the woods as he could throw.
Returning to his work, Italy felt the stare of the cat on him.
"You know Kitty, we haven't seen much you lately... I thought we would see you often since the dogs left for training... Though, Germany didn't seem too pleased with his dogs being taken." Italy shrugged. The sound of the cat's feet pattered away as the car pulled up.
"Germany!" Italy squealed.
oooooooooooo
Italy was laid out on the couch, a small treat in his hands. Fried dough with sugar, simple but pleasing.
"Thank you for thinking of me Germany!" Italy said, "Does Leos want a bite?" He ooffered some to the boy but he shook his head.
"I couldn't get him to take one either," Germany said. "We have to fatten you up quick, I should hunt some boar or an animal with more fat so I can add it to your food. I have a feeling my boss isn't going to be please with your weight."
"I'm too thin?" Leos asked,
"Yes, son, but we will fix that..."
"Your boss doesn't like thin people?"
"No, its just... He wants to see you fit, but with all the medical problems its very hard to keep you healthy. I just hope he understands..." Germany placed his hand over his face.
"Germany's going to get chewed out by his boss!" Italy said, "And I'll there documenting it all-"
"There is no way your coming with me," Germany glared from between his fingers, "I would be fired the minute you opened your mouth. You stay here and guard the home front."
"Yes sir!"
ooooooooooooooooo
Germany had been fretting all morning. His knuckles were white, face pale, Italy though he saw him shiver. Today was the dinner date with his boss. Germany had called Leos into the bathroom and was struggling to get his thick hair into something "presentable". He attempted to comb it over to fit his boss's style, but the boy's hair was far to thick. His failed effort resulting in Leos looking up at him with a sarcastic look, no words need to be said. Germany started over. This time, he tried to comb it back like his own, which only produced a spiked American rebel looking hair do. Again, he started over. Leos sat patiently as he hair was being tugged and pulled, counting the tiles on the floor. Germany mumbled some inappropriate phrases under his breath as he worked with the brush.
"Germany!... Oh, he's not going like that is he?" Italy said,
"Whats wrong with it?" Germany growled,
"He looks like a... I don't even know how to describe it." Italy said cocking his head to one side, "Why don't you just let me do it? Relax a bit Germany," Italy said taking the comb from him.
"Italy..."
"Shoo!" Italy gestured,
"Don't mess up,"
Italy presented a dressed and groomed boy before Germany that he didn't recognize. If it weren't for the metal sheen of the eyes, Germany would've sworn he swapped Leos out for a more manageable youth. His hair was parted in the middle and combed even to either side of his face. The back was combed against his neck and held in place with a touch of water. Dressed in his suit, which Italy had taken in a bit, he didn't look any different than any other German boy.
"Italy... He looks great..." Germany said,
"Of course he does! Now, if the back fluffs out just run over it with a damp hand, but it should stay." He said, "Good luck you two!"
"Thank you Italy..." Germany said as he took Leos' hand. Italy waved them off as they drove down the road. The cat sitting at his side glaring down after the car.
ooooooooooooooooooooooo
*Homosexuals were often killed and neighbors were told to report any suspicious activity to authorities. About 5,000 people were killed. (Numbers vary)
*During the war soldiers often traded the belongings of prisoners for supplies. Large Jewish communities were pillaged and their objects resold except for things that could be recycled or used by the soldiers. At this point in the story Death camps, work camps, etc. are not well established but Ghettos and deportations are in effect.
*A the time s German "Pound" is 1 tenth less than than an American pound. I didn't pull those prices out of my ass XD, they should be pretty accurate for the time in a major city, although smaller towns may have been more/less expensive.
*Remember to R&R :D thank you for all the wonderful reviews