Surprisingly, the first feeling he regained was thankfulness for the fact that he could actually move his eyes without pain. The everlasting headache returned to its manageable dull throb, permitting him to finally open his eyes. The curtains were half-drawn with enough light emitting through to know that it was still mid-day. Germany lay in his bed with a cold washcloth on his forehead. A small bead of water glided from his temples to his cheeks. He carefully tilted his head to the left. Prussia sat beside the bed in a chair that looked like it had been taken from the kitchen, his body slouched forward with his head in his hands. His mess of platinum hair fell in his eyes with pieces standing every which way. As he heard the sheets stir, he looked up. His eyes met Germany. The flames of adrenaline that burned in his irises earlier were now dulled with anxiety; two stray tears welling up in the corners of his eyes waited for the perfect time to frame his cheeks and chin as they fell.
"Gott sei Dank, thank you, God," Prussia whispered as he brought his hands up under his chin, "you have no idea how relieved I am, Westie."
"What happened?" Germany murmured. His voice was hoarse, his throat scratchy from the scream.
"Italy told us that you were having lunch together when you were struck with a headache. He said you looked pale and dizzy, so he brought you home and Austria and I brought you inside. You yelled out in pain before fainting."
Prussia bit his lip. On cue, the two tears trickled down his face. "We carried you upstairs. I put you into bed. I couldn't walk away from you. I can't let anything bad happen to you. I will always be here to protect you."
Germany scoffed and carefully tilted his head to the right, then back to the left as he readjusted himself slightly. "You're never this endearing."
Prussia chuckled. He stood from the chair and moved it closer to Germany. He sat back down and placed his hand on his brother's head once again, softly ruffling his hair. "And now that you're okay, I will never do it again-not unless it's absolutely necessary."
Germany sighed deeply and closed his eyes again. He tried to piece together his last memories before losing consciousness. He remembered being in terrible pain, his headache feeling as if it would split his head open, and he screamed before falling. He was in a position to fall, teetering on the edge of the couch, but why?
Then it all came back to him: the words Prussia said, the realization, the grabbing of his shirt. Germany immediately came to his senses as the adrenaline kicked his brain back into gear. He sat up abruptly. Prussia leaned back and stared at him. Germany tried to speak, but all he could do was open his mouth. He felt his nerves creeping up to his throat, knowing better than anyone that confronting his older brother was one of the most difficult things to do.
"You really shouldn't push yourself," Prussia said, "you really should lay back down."
"You were in my dream," Germany blurted.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, and I didn't know it was you until you said what you said. 'Don't worry, you'll be okay,' it was you."
Prussia's brow furrowed and he tilted his head in bafflement. "I said that to you in a dream?"
"Yes," Germany shot back. He remained sitting up, not heeding Prussia's advice. "I had the same headache in my dream, and when the pain started, you said the same thing to me. It was you in the dream."
Prussia nodded somberly and pushed his hands together, almost like he was praying. He concealed his mouth with his hands. Germany leaned in closer, anxiously scanning Prussia's face for whatever serious thing was about to say.
"West, you know what this is?" He declared, a smile creeping across his face.
Germany held his breath.
"Future vision!" Prussia cackled.
Germany grunted, slumping backwards so his back rested against the headboard. He crossed his arms in frustration as Prussia giggled.
"This is important, Prussia," Germany growled, "please take this seriously."
"I don't know what you want me to say," Prussia shrugged as his laughter died down.
"This is really bothering me, Prussia, my headache is tied to it. Every time I think about the dream, the headache grows in severity. The two are linked and I don't know how or why."
Prussia sighed and crossed his arms. "Well, I'm no dream expert, but they usually have meaning, don't they? Let's hear it, tell me the whole dream."
Germany felt his tongue tie instinctively. Prussia had proven to be a ferocious world power when he wanted to be, and when it came to something he didn't like, that side of him crept out. Sometimes, talking to Prussia felt like he walked on eggshells; Germany loved his brother and they were close in some aspects, but when it came to heavier discussion topics, they shied away from it. Though the invitation to speak was extended to him, Germany felt a bit uneasy.
"It starts with me standing in the dark," he began after a long pause, "and I'm holding this piece of wood in my hands, and-"
Prussia snickered and Germany rolled his eyes.
"You're so juvenile," he groaned. He continued with his explanation, "anyways, I'm holding it and I realize that it's a small wooden broom. Something about the way it feels in my hands is so familiar, but I can't tell why."
Prussia's smile faded as Germany spoke.
"All of a sudden, a headache, much like the one I just experienced, begins with such sharp, terrible pain that it makes me drop the broom. My vision turns completely black and my head hurts so bad that it's hard to even think, but then I hear a voice, and it says 'Don't worry, you'll be okay,' and it says a name that I can never hear. I don't know why, but being unable to hear the name bothers me- I feel like I'm somehow obligated to figure out what it is, and I panic and tell myself that I have to figure out the name, but before I can say or do anything, I wake up. When you said that to me downstairs, I realized that the voice in the dream was you. It's always been you."
As Germany relayed the dream, his eyes fixated on his hands wringing in his lap, but as he reached the end of the description, he looked at Prussia. His brother's arms were still crossed, but he bounced his legs uncontrollably. A bead of sweat trickled from his forehead to replace the tears that once fell. His eyes remained widened and fixated on Germany.
"Well," Germany asked, "what do you think?"
Prussia abruptly stood up. "I think that you need to rest. I'm going to leave you alone now."
Prussia quickly pivoted and made his way towards the door.
"What do you think about the dream?" Germany added.
Prussia remained silent, his platinum hair sweeping across his eyes as he opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him.
Germany normally took these types of responses with a sigh and roll of the eyes, but a new feeling bubbled within his chest. He'd finally bared his soul, allowed himself to be open to interpretation, even invited the meticulous picking-apart that Austria craved, and Prussia did nothing? He said nothing, as if everything Germany had laid out didn't matter. The dream mattered, his feelings mattered, and he was sick of Prussia pretending like it didn't.
Though weak, Germany jumped out of bed. The faint feeling from the previous headache still lingered, but his adrenaline and determination pushed him through it. He carried himself to the bedroom door and flung it open, stumbling into the hallway. Prussia, alarmed at the sound, quickly turned his head back. He faced forward just as fast as he'd turned back. Prussia continued walking down the hallway. Germany followed at a slower pace, supporting himself on walls, door frames, anything that could help center his spinning head.
"I just want to talk to you," Germany began.
"You did talk to me, and now I don't want to talk anymore. You should get some rest."
"Why can't you have a real conversation with me? As soon as it gets serious, you walk away, why do you do that? Why won't you talk to me?"
Prussia stopped at the top of the staircase with his back to his brother. Germany stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall to help hold himself up.
"I do talk to you, but when it comes to emotional stuff, that's where the conversation ends, and you can keep me out of it."
"Why can't we talk about our origins?" Germany exclaimed in desperation, "Why can't we talk about who we are, where we came from, how we feel?"
Prussia turned sharply. The wide-eyed expression of shock now twisted into one of spite and frustration, of pent-up anger that was reserved only for his opposers. His eyes seethed, but his tone of voice hinted at his internal anguish.
"Haven't I given you enough?" his voice wavered, "Haven't I shown you time and time again that this is your family, that this is where you come from? What more could you want out of me?"
"What happened to you? What made you so shut off from everyone?"
Prussia's lips pursed and he stormed down the stairs. Germany followed close behind, shifting most of his weight on the railing as he made his way down. "I just want to know you, I want to know what you've been through. I know that being a country is hard, that relationships change and you lose people, but-"
"What would you know about that?" Prussia yelled, spinning to face Germany as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His face grew flushed as he let the anger seep out. "We have always been together. You, Austria, and I have always been together."
He reiterated this last point as Austria moved into the scene. He emerged from the kitchen as the two men argued in the entrance to the living room. Austria's eyes darted between Prussia and Germany as he tried to quickly assess the situation. Germany inched down the stairs and Austria leaned forward to help him, but as he locked eyes with Prussia, he froze. Germany reached the floor and stood with one arm leaning on the banister. Germany looked to Austria, the venom in his heart striking Austria's soul. Austria was a part of it. Austria contributed to it.
Germany kept his eyes fixated on Austria, this time taking his turn to pick apart his prey. Austria held his breath as Germany scanned every inch of his face.
"It wasn't always that way," Germany continued.
"And how do you know that?" Prussia spat.
"Because Italy told me," Germany declared, turning back to Prussia. He took a step forward, finally letting go of his support system. Prussia instinctively stepped back as Germany pointed at his older brother. "You weren't around when he was here, Prussia, you weren't here. You came to live with Austria after Italy left. Where did you come from? When did I show up?"
Prussia rubbed his temples and eyes with one hand, sighing as he did so. "You were born, I brought you here. There, there's your answer, are you happy now?"
"That's not all of it."
"And how would you know?"
Germany stepped forward once more. Prussia stood his ground, tilting his head upward and straightening his body. "Who was here when you moved in?" Germany asked, "Who lived here with Austria?"
"I'm not talking about it and neither is Austria."
Germany's eyes locked with Austria's. Tears queued in Austria's eyes, his breathing shallow and bottom lip quivering as he stood before them. He anxiously fiddled with his jabot, happy that his hands had something to do as he trembled where he stood.
"Austria can speak for himself," Germany argued.
"When did you become so intrusive?" Prussia responded, stepping sideways to be nearer to Austria, "You've never talked to us like this before."
"Because any time I've questioned who I am, you've shut me down."
"What are you looking for, West?" he exclaimed, his voice raising in volume, "Aren't you happy with the way things are? What is so wrong about your life that you have to dig into the past and uncover old wounds, old relationships, things that don't matter anymore?"
Germany matched his volume with his brother's. "Because Italy made it clear to me that everything has changed. Why haven't we?"
"Because we don't need to change."
"Maybe we do, Prussia, because I don't know a damn thing about you!"
"I'm trying to protect you," Prussia muttered through bared teeth.
"I don't need to be protected, I can handle what comes my way."
"You can't, West, you don't know what it's like because I have always been there for you, because Austria has always been there for you, because we step in and protect you from the struggles that come with being who we are."
"And what damage could experiencing that do to me?" Germany argued, "I can't live in a bubble. Look at Italy, he's been through more than we know and he's perfectly fine!"
"Did you grill Italy like this, too? Did you force it out of him?"
"I didn't have to. He makes me feel like my feelings matter."
"Don't even try to make me look like the bad guy here," Prussia snarled, "you know that you matter to me."
"Italy told me more about the past than either of you ever have, he told me what it was like to move homes, to be ruled over, to watch countries come and go, to watch some never come back."
Austria choked, turning his back to the others as tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped from his chin. Prussia swiftly moved next to him and wrapped his arm around Austria's chest, continuing to face off against his seething younger brother.
"Stop it, Germany, you're upsetting Austria."
"Austria's upset? I'm upset! He doesn't tell me anything, either, he's just as shut off from me as you are," Germany exclaimed. He ignored the rarity of Prussia using his real name.
"Austria doesn't owe you anything. He doesn't have to tell you anything."
"Why won't you tell me anything, then? You're my brother, my own flesh and blood. I deserve to know."
"There's nothing to know," Prussia stated bluntly.
"That's clearly not true, look at him," Germany waved to Austria on the brink of hysteria, "Why can't I know? What are you hiding from me?"
Austria turned his head back to Germany, keeping his eyes on the floor to avoid the glare that would meet him if he raised himself any higher. "We aren't hiding anything from you," he spoke softly, "and if we were, it would be for your own good."
Prussia tightened his grip on Austria, signaling him to remain silent. "Austria, stop," he muttered, "don't push it."
"Let him talk, Prussia," Germany yelled, no longer holding his voice back, "how long are you going to keep silencing us? How long are you going to keep things from me?"
Prussia responded without hesitation. "As long as I'm here."
Germany fumed, his long-awaited anger causing his legs to tremble violently. He stepped closer to Austria. Prussia tightened the grip of his arm. Austria, sensing the movement towards him, pivoted to be ready for whatever Germany was about to do.
Germany moved until he was inches from the choked-up country. "What am I missing, Austria?" he spoke cooly, "Who lived here before us? Who are we missing?"
Prussia unleashed his full rage and instantaneously let go of Austria to shove Germany's chest with all of his strength. Taken aback by the physical aggression, Germany fell backwards and hit the floor. His instincts reminded him to tilt his head forward as he fell. If he didn't think quickly at that moment, the back of his head would have made impact with the bottom stair. Prussia stood over him and Germany did not move, understanding that Prussia was one unpredictable move away from a complete brawl.
"Back off!" he screamed, "Back the fuck off. You're acting like you have the balls to be a fucking empire."
Austria choked on the cries he desperately tried to keep at bay. He fled the room without looking back, rushing to the drawing room and slamming the door before anyone could react. Germany watched as Prussia shuddered from head to toe. He slowly backed away, shaking so terribly that Germany worried he may fall. His anger was replaced with immediate worry for his brother's well-being, but Germany stayed on the floor, aware that he'd pushed the boundaries to a dangerous level. Germany opened his mouth as if he had the fortitude to speak, but before a sound could come out, Prussia shot forward to the foyer. The doorknob shook with the uncontrollable movement of his hands as he flung the front door open, then slammed it behind him. A car started; it whipped out of the driveway and down the street without a moment of hesitation. Germany remained on the ground even though his foe had fled the scene. He didn't have the strength to stand up.
