3

Weeks later, he's back in West's office and West isn't happy this time. It's a subtle thing but Prussia notes the way his baby brother shuffles papers on his desk and ignores him even after he's been called in.

There's no chair to sit in so Prussia has to stand and wait. He probably should just march right up and slam his hands on the desk, demanding to be sent back to the front lines. But he can't manage to push himself to do it. Probably because he's actually wary about what the monster inside his brother can do right now.

God, he shouldn't be nervous in front of his brother. That's insane! West is the last person for him to be afraid of…

Except now. With that red flag hanging on his office wall, Prussia isn't comfortable pushing him anymore. The war isn't going in their favor anymore. Everyone is on edge, fighting with the last they have and then some. Prussia has been in this position before and he's done all he could to help on a battlefield where his talents can really shine.

But this time…

He shies away from staring at all the propaganda in his baby brother's office. There's even a photograph of their illustrious leader on the wall. And another on his desk. The leader that Prussia doesn't like near as much as he did at first. He's almost sick to his stomach staring at him now, after everything that's been done to their citizens, their innocent civilians.

"Gilbert," West says and Prussia snaps his attention to him immediately. "What information do you have from our captive?"

He tenses. For more than one reason. West always calls him brother. No matter the language they converse in, he uses the German word for brother when talking to him. It's become a special word between them, a certain kind of nickname in a way.

That he's dropped it in place of his human name has Prussia catching his breath. He tries to talk but his words are stuck in his throat. He doesn't have any information to hand over, either. Nothing useful. Nothing at all.

"It's been how many weeks?" West asks, still sitting at his desk, not even looking up at him.

Prussia feels a tingle run up his spine and he shifts positions, fiddling with his hat for a moment until it's off center in a more comfortable position. "I, uh, it's been three weeks, I think."

"Almost a month."

"Mhm." He licks his lips and barks a laugh to try to lighten the tension in the atmosphere. "Little Canadian brat sure is good at resisting my methods."

West looks up and Prussia snaps to attention before he can help himself. The ice cold glare is like nothing he's seen before, nothing from his baby brother at least. All West is doing is sitting there at his desk and glaring at him now but it's enough to cause Prussia's heart rate to pick up.

Shit. He's in trouble. But it's his brother, right? West may be angry but he won't actually do anything. So why is he so damn nervous?

"What methods?" West asks.

Prussia stumbles a little. "What?"

Hard blue eyes catch his own red. "You said he's been successfully resisting your methods. What methods?"

"Oh. That." Prussia clears his throat and forces his body to relax. "You know, uh, just the usual."

A chair scrapes against the floor and Prussia flinches back as West stands up. It's so slow. So different from Prussia's own monster. So different in so many ways.

He gulps as West calmly walks around the desk. The only sign that he's pissed beyond reason is the way he crumples the paper in his hand and tosses it to his desk instead of throwing it in the trash can right away. Oh but Prussia can feel the disappointment and he sees those ice cold blue eyes flash once West is standing in front of him, mere inches away.

His brother reaches out and removes Prussia's hat, brushing some dust from the silver eagle insignia. Prussia stands there, frozen to his spot, willing his mouth to smirk and not twitch, willing his breathing to stay even and controlled. West places the hat back on his head in the most correct position it's ever been in since he got the damn thing.

"Stop breaking uniform protocol," West murmurs. "You've always talked about how your pride is related to your military, so act like it when you're part of mine, too."

Prussia grits his teeth, eyes flashing. "I thought it was ours now."

West grunts, eyes narrowing, and completely ignores the correction. "You've also told me you've been torturing your enemies since you were young. I know the methods have changed since those early times, but here I thought you would be reliable for this mission."

"I'm still better at fighting, West."

"Yes, I know, but this is a special case and I need you," West shoves his finger into Prussia's chest, but their gazes stay locked. "If only you'd get that information for me, I'll be able to send you back out to where you're more in your element."

"I told you, I-"

"You're lying!"

The snap causes a shiver to run up Prussia's spine. Another one. Shit. His tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth, it's so dry all of a sudden.

Since he flinches and lowers his eyes, West puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Oh, shit. That grip is rough, fingers clawing through his uniform and insignia. He bites his lip to keep from crying out - more from shock than pain, really.

"Don't let me down, Gilbert." West whispers. "You know I'd hate to have to punish someone who raised me. Don't make me have to do anything I'll regret later. Just do your job. Whatever means necessary."

It hurts hearing his actual name from his brother's lips. It's always been 'bruder'. Always, for as long as they've established their brother relationship.

But it hurts even more to be threatened.

"R-right," he chokes out eventually. "I know."

And that's the end of it. West dismisses him with a curt nod, making him promise to deliver on the information they need, while also mentioning the timespan he has to get it to him. West is going to fight. West is going to fight and he's stuck here. But when West comes back, that's when Prussia will have to produce some information. Or else.

Or else huh?

Prussia leaves the office, holding his hand to his chest to calm his poor heart. He signs some paper for the secretary - a new one - and then puts as much distance between him and his brother as he can.

It's when he's outside that he pauses and takes a deep breath. The cold air hurts in his lungs, but that's a more physical pain that helps him release the mental suffering. Winter is just around the corner. The fighting is going to get worse. They really do need every advantage they can get, but…

But he likes the Canada kid. He doesn't want to hurt him. And he doesn't want to snap in front of him. Since he finds him attractive, even on such a purely physical level, there's no telling what his own monster will do to the innocent flower.

Shit what am I going to do then?

"Oh, hi there, Prussia!"

He flicks his gaze over to the owner of the new voice and immediately gives a relaxing smile. Italy. If there's anyone that can make the darkness around them feel a little brighter, it's this cute little idiot.

"How are you doing, Feli?"

Italy shines as he climbs the steps, holding out a box. "Great now that I have this. I was on my way to give some to Germany. Do you want a few for yourself?"

Prussia blinks and turns his gaze to the box of chocolates in Italy's hands, then he grins and reaches up to ruffle the cute Italian's hair. "You're awesome, you know that? I bet this is just what that little brother of mine needs right now."

Italy laughs for a moment, his dark eyes lighting up. He likes having close contact with all his friends, so of course he enjoys it when Prussia touches him.

He sees Italy as a sort of brother in a way, too. Not the same as with West, but, well, they've been through the same sort of heartbreak. The Holy Roman Empire - or Holy Rome as Italy always called him - meant a lot to them both. Ever since they found out they could share such a bond over the tragic loss, Prussia's always kind of liked it when Italy shows up around here.

The more southern nation is bundled up in preparation for winter. Prussia assumes he has a uniform underneath all that, but there's no way to know for sure with Italy. West will berate them all about uniform protocol, but Italy seems to be the only one that gets away with it with such ease.

"Is he -" Italy starts, then bites his lip and tries again. "Is he in a bad mood?"

Prussia nods, "Yeah, sorry, you can blame me for that one."

Italy shakes his head. "It's okay. He's been worse lately. I know the Germany I like is still in there somewhere, but…"

Prussia sighs. "I know what you mean."

As the silence stalks between them for a moment, Prussia decides to dig in the cardboard box full of chocolate bars. His mouth is watering just at seeing so many. Canada will be sure to love this. Oh, and the guards. He should get a couple for them, too.

No ration card necessary. This is like a prayer come true. A small prayer but at least something is being heard up there.

~!~

There's no point in trying to escape anymore. He's tried everything he can think of, but even with nice accommodations, he can't find a hole in their trap. So Canada has given in a few times and asked for something.

Like a desk, a journal, and a chair. He's not writing anything important. He knows Prussia is going to read it all eventually and sift through for whatever information he can gather. But pretend letters to his brother or England or France… they kind of help with the whole prisoner-of-war situation.

It's been too long. He's going to have to rely on someone breaking him out of here. Maybe the war will end without him. Maybe they'll come rushing through Berlin and take over the capital. He can dream, can't he?

Canada sighs as he curls up on the chair and rests his head against the desk. There's nothing else to do but wait on a rescue at this point. He's gotten lucky in the fact that Prussia hasn't actually tried to torture him. His good judge of character says the albino nation won't ever get around to it, but things change, especially in war, especially with someone so quick to flip into rage.

Despite his faith in Prussia, the infamous "yet" has him on edge all the same.

A noise from downstairs gets his attention and Canada tries to listen in to whatever is going on. He can't make much out, though. Even if he were to go over and stand by the door, he doesn't think he'd be able to hear the words. They're probably speaking in German anyway. His German is limited so if it's muffled and hard to hear, he doubts he'll be able to figure it out. Then again, he could swear he hears cheers.

His heart beats into his throat. Have the Germans won something big in the war? They haven't actually won, have they? There's no way. America wouldn't give up. England's been beat up too much to quit now, there's no way.

When the door opens, he's not surprised, and he turns to Prussia expecting to hear the worst news. Instead, the nation tosses him something and Canada almost drops it in his attempt to catch it. Scratch that, he does drop it, eyes widening when he notices what he's now picking up off the floor.

Prussia speaks before he can open his mouth to question. "Got some chocolate from a friend of mine. Figured I'd share with you, too."

Holding the chocolate bar in his hands, Canada gapes over at the albino nation. "What?"

"I said," Prussia says as he flops onto the bed, tossing his hat to the lampstand and resting his feet on the stand as he gets comfortable. "We have extra chocolate. Or do you not like chocolate?"

"Okay stupid question," Canada murmurs. "Should've asked why."

"Hm?" Prussia hums, already taking a bite of his own chocolate bar, one arm moving to rest comfortably behind his head. "Why not? I got extra. I can share with who I want."

Staring at how comfortable the nation is, lying on the bed in here like there's absolutely nothing to fear from a prisoner, Canada shakes his head and focuses on the chocolate. Well, he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Prussia wants to hand out extra chocolate to a prisoner of war like him, then might as well enjoy it.

He pulls the wrapping off and takes one bite. Holding it there, he lets the chocolate melt in his mouth. Oh, that's nice. It's amazing how quick one can experience bliss from something so simple, all thanks to the shortage because of this war.

"See?" Prussia says. "Don't question. Just enjoy it."

"It's really good," Canada mumbles around the chocolate bar. "I still miss maple syrup, though."

"Hah? Is that something common to where you're from?"

Canada nods. "Mhmm. Have you ever had any?"

He glances over to Prussia to judge his reaction. That silvery white hair grabs his attention, though. Since Prussia's taken off his hat, it's out and wild in its full glory. A part of him wants to touch it and run his fingers through it, but, oh, that's stupid. Apparently, he doesn't need to be drunk to think the albino look really works for the man in front of him. It's not even that; his attitude is…

Stop, stop, stop, do not go any further.

"Don't think so," Prussia says with a semblance of a shrug, an impressive feat since he's laying down.

Canada blinks, then sighs sadly. "I feel so sorry for you."

That gets him a narrowed eyed reaction. Funny what manages to get under this guy's skin. "Don't."

"But maple syrup is so good," Canada says after taking another bite. "At least it explains why you get so angry so easily, though."

"What?" Prussia blinks, the glare dropping. "The hell?"

Canada opts not to answer. Instead he focuses on the chocolate bar. He knows he should probably savor it, eat it slowly. But he can't help it. It's been so long since he tasted anything sweet, and the chocolate is so good.

"No, don't go quiet," Prussia says as he sits up. "Explain what you meant there. I do not get angry easily."

"Yes you do. Anytime you think I'm underestimating you, you get really angry really fast. And just then you were glaring at me for feeling sorry for you, even for something as simple as not ever having maple syrup."

"Keh," Prussia scoffs, lying back down on the bed, both hands behind his head. "Okay so you found the few rare things that can really piss me off. Congratulations."

The albino nation gets back in that comfortable position, resting his boots on the nightstand. His hands are behind his head, so he holds the chocolate bar in his mouth, almost like he's sucking on it. Doing a better job of savoring it than Canada, that's for sure.

And Canada can't help but stare at him like this. His eyes keep going to that mouth. Oh, he needs to stop. Shake it off. Stop thinking dirty thoughts. This guy is in charge of watching him; he's a guard and Canada is the prisoner. This isn't some kind of weird stockholm syndrome thing going on, is it?

Or is he really just appreciating the fact that Prussia hasn't been the monster everyone warned him about it?

"You know," he says with a smile. "You're not as bad as England said."

The chocolate bar snaps and Prussia has to pull it off his chest and swallow what's in his mouth before turning those beautiful - er - gleaming red eyes on him. "What? Arthur's shit talking me now?"

"He just said to watch out for you," Canada shrugs. "And that you'd do whatever it takes to see you and Germany on top."

"Tch. Well he's not wrong," Prussia mumbles. "I'm definitely a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. And I don't take too kindly to anyone getting in my brother's way."

Those red eyes drift to stare up at the ceiling so Canada huffs, because he's starting to like having that look turned on him. Still. He takes a moment to think through what Prussia just told him. And he frowns.

"So you're okay with what he's doing?"

To his surprise, Prussia actually winces. "I didn't say that."

"That's good to know at least."

"Why?" Those red eyes come back to him. "I'm still your enemy."

True, but…

"You seem nice enough."

"Nice?" Prussia's eyebrows raise and Canada almost chuckles at the shocked look. "You think I'm nice?"

Holding out the last of his chocolate bar, Canada waves his arm in the air. "Nice to give me some of your rations at least. Not only rare food rations, but beer and chocolate."

"Tch," Prussia scoffs, closing his eyes, and going back to his comfortable position. "Didn't think something that simple would count as nice."

Canada hums and smiles. "You also haven't tried torturing me for information, and it's been a few weeks at least."

This gets a bigger reaction. He watches as the chocolate bar in Prussia's mouth snaps again. The nation seems to tense on the bed, but his eyes stay closed. Or narrowed. It's hard to tell if he opened then again. Maybe he's tired.

Canada smiles. It would be hilarious if the man fell asleep in here. Door open and everything. Then he'd just have to go downstairs and find the perfect opportunity to slip out.

Would that get Prussia in trouble, though? They're nations so they're usually not bound to the same rules, but something strange is going on in this country. So he has to wonder. Would he run or hold back out of fear of hurting Prussia in the long run?

...that's stupid. God, Al would so make fun of him if he could hear these thoughts. Once again, he has to remind himself that he's a prisoner and Prussia is his guard. He shouldn't worry about him. At all. Damn, but it really is easy for him to fall for someone, isn't it?

Well, there's no torturing going on, and he doesn't want to see Prussia fall asleep anyway. The conversation is nice.

"So," he says into the silence. "You called England by his human name. You two must have a lot of history together, huh?"

"Hm," Prussia hums. "Yeah. You could say that."

"I wonder if you two were ever good friends."

"We had an alliance," Prussia pauses for a moment, swallowing the last of his chocolate and frowning up at the ceiling. "For what that's worth."

"Do you think -" he cuts off, then decides to ask anyway. "Do you think it's possible for people like us to have friends outside of alliances?"

"Definitely. Though friends can just as easily become enemies over time."

Canada takes a moment. Hums to himself. He has another question, but it might seem a little strange in this situation. He's thinking toward the future, he reminds himself. Once this war is said and done with and well -

"Do you think we could," he licks his lips to keep his throat from going dry. "Do you think we could be friends when this war is over?"

Prussia practically jolts up on the bed, staring over at him with wide eyes. "Hah? You must be thinking your side is going to win the war, because no way in hell would you think we could be friends if West and I take over the world."

Canada tenses, flicking his eyes around the room awkwardly, not having expected that reaction of all things. "Uhm...I mean...yes?"

"Everyone always believes they'll win. I doubt you guys will though. No offense, but we're just too awesome." Prussia smirks and lays back down on the bed. "I wouldn't mind having a friend from the other side if we actually lost, though. No telling what your little allied group would do to us once they find out what's been happening over here."

"Right...I think you should-"

Chewing his cheek, Canada sighs and gives up that train of thought. He doesn't know Prussia well enough. There's no way he could get away with asking the man to turn on his brother. He's sure it would be for the best, but Prussia probably wouldn't take any kind of advice like that.

Prussia's voice comes out as a harsh bark layered with typical anger. "If you think I can do anything about what you've seen, then you clearly haven't realized why I'm sitting here instead of fighting on the front lines."

"Sorry," Canada mumbles. "You're right. I guess I just hoped there was a way to stop it all."

"Is that what you were doing in the capital? Trying to find a way to shut down the camps?"

Canada shakes his head. "No. It was something else."

"Something you're never going to tell me."

"Maybe after the war."

Prussia huffs. "Like it'll be useful then."

Chewing his bottom lip, Canada tries a weak response. "It'll sate your curiosity."

"Maybe."

Silence stalks around them and Canada takes another moment to admire the other nation on the bed. How can he look so relaxed? How can he be so content with this situation? Sure, he's not a prisoner, but Canada's starting to realize the albino appearance isn't working in his favor at all.

That's probably something that's making him on edge and so easy to anger. Canada can't imagine what it feels like to have your own citizens dislike you. Without even knowing who you are, too. Just because of how you look.

But that silvery hair is so unique. He's mesmerized by it and those red eyes, especially when they're not upset or angry. They can look so soft when he's calm and relaxed. If only Prussia weren't wearing that evil uniform. It's hard to excuse him for wearing the uniform of the same group that's always guarding the camps, even if the blue color isn't seen on anyone else, which separates him even more.

Even if he still looks hot…

...wait what?

Shaking his head, Canada focuses back on what Prussia is saying. Better to not let his thoughts wander. They're getting out of hand. His attraction to an enemy soldier is not a good thing. Funny how even the reminder in his mind feels half-hearted.

"You're lucky West decided to put you in my place," Prussia says. "This bed is much nicer than what regular POWs get."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Canada scoffs. "Be sure to thank him for me, then."

Red eyes glance over at him and there's a hint of an actual smile on that face, but Prussia answers as if he didn't catch the sarcasm dripping in those words. "Yeah, sure, next time he's in town, I guess."

Germany is going to be leaving town? Oh, if only I could let someone know that information. I wonder where he's heading off to.

"So," Canada murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip. "You don't have any other jobs besides watching me?"

Prussia lets out a long sigh. "Nope. I'm beginning to wonder if they're just using it as an excuse to keep me here as long as possible."

"Why would they do that? England said to watch out for you since you're so good at fighting."

And other reasons, but let's focus on the one he prides himself on.

Prussia scoffs. "Cause they're idiots caught up in their own propaganda bullshit."

"Oh," Canada hums. "That kind of sucks, huh?"

The albino nation flinches and Canada feels kind of bad for bringing this all up. He doesn't have anything personal against Prussia, so reminding him of his situation feels a little mean. Apparently, what he's been thinking is the truth after all.

They're keeping Prussia on watch, too. He's not sure if the man even goes outside of his house. There's no way to know for sure, since Canada is stuck here, but he wouldn't be surprised if the guards started keeping him trapped here too.

"Yeah," Prussia grumbles. "It kinda does."

"Why though?" Canada asks, pushing for more despite the way his heart breaks at seeing the look on that pale face. "What are they teaching that keeps you from fighting?"

"Tch. I'm sure they'd be fine with me fighting on any front, so long as I wasn't in a position to be someone calling the shots."

"But you're a nation," Canada says slowly. "If you're on the battlefield, then you should be in charge."

"Exactly!" Prussia exclaims, throwing his hands up before pounding a fist back down to the bed. "So what do they do? Find a reason to keep me here!"

"What would happen to you if I got out though? They can't do much worse than what they're already doing, right?"

Oh, he hates seeing the way Prussia flinches back. It makes him wonder if they could do something worse. But they wouldn't dare throw a country into one of those horrendous labor camps. Would they? Is Prussia questioning his own invincibility from such things?

When Prussia turns to glance at him, there's no hint of that fear in his voice or his eyes, so Canada has to rethink what he just witnessed. "You're not getting out on my watch."

"It was worth a shot," he shrugs. "So where have they been sending you to fight?"

This question proves to be a mistake. Prussia doesn't answer. Instead, the albino nation sits up, eyes wide as he stares at Canada. A finger comes out, pointing at him accusingly and Canada knows he messed up. Made that last one too obvious.

"Hold up. No," Prussia states. "You're not supposed to be getting information from me. That's not how this works."

Under his breath, Canada mutters. "Mapleleaf."

"How did you even do that?" Prussia asks, eyes still very wide. "The hell…"

"It wasn't that hard," Canada shrugs. "I think you've been wanting someone to talk with, honestly."

Oh, the red eyes are flashing again. Now he's done it. "That's not true."

"Then why did you just dump all of that? You seem pretty pent up to me."

"I am not!"

Oh, yep, there it is. Prussia snaps and stands up. He snatches his hat from the lampstand and practically smashes it on his head. It's not on correctly, more that usual lopsided look he's always boasting, but his red eyes sure aren't happy. His body is twitching, even.

Must've really hit a chord there.

"You're leaving again?" Canada asks.

"Why the hell would I stay? You obviously don't appreciate my awesomeness."

"You always leave so angry, but you're still so nice to me," Canada hums, tilting his head, meeting the glare head on and not even flinching back this time. "Why is that?"

"I don't know!" Prussia shouts. He breaks the glare and turns away, stomping toward the door. Oh, yeah, definitely got under his skin with the questions this time. "I just - I - aghhh!"

The door slamming isn't really unexpected, but Canada shuts his eyes at the loud noise anyway. So much for a decent conversation. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed too hard. Prussia even left without really locking the door.

Wait…

Jumping off his chair, Canada rushes over to the door and gapes. It's open. He sneaks a peek out beyond the door, just in time to catch Prussia stomping down the stairs. The door is open. He could… Is this an opportunity?

Hand on the doorknob, he shakes a little as he tries to think straight. No, no he can't. There's no easy way out of here. Especially if Prussia is actually trapped in this house, too. Under house arrest or whatever it may be. Another nation so close makes escape impossible.

Oh, but he can't believe he's undone the great Prussia enough to even have this chance. Chewing his bottom lip, he heaves a giant sigh, and slowly closes the door. No, there's no reason to push his luck.

That "yet" is still dancing around in the back of his mind. If he were to try to escape - and get caught in the act - he might push Prussia into doing what he's been threatening this whole time. And for some reason, he doesn't want to push the albino nation anymore.

For some reason...he cares.