Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. It is, however, an amazing series.

A/N: I tried to be historically accurate, but it's a lot to read about and I was trying to get this out to you guys without too much delay. If I got things wrong – which I know I did – please just ignore it and give me a pat on the head for trying. xD;

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Mistaken Memory

Chapter 3

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How had the war gone so nightmarishly wrong?

Originally, Holy Roman Empire had thought it was just a conflict within his house caused by religious dissent. He would go home, take care of it, and return to the side of his love, Chibitalia. Unfortunately, that line of events was never meant to be.

What started out as a local revolt soon exploded as some of the other Nations took advantage of the situation, seeing it as the perfect chance to conquer his lands. Austria, Hungary, and Spain tried to help him, but the opposition was far more than they expected. France and England were actually on the same side, for once; Denmark and Sweden also fought against Holy Roman Empire and his allies.

He tried to win. He honestly did. He tried so hard because all he wanted to go back to Chibitalia. But as the fighting dragged on and on, more and more of his people died. Famine and disease weakened them even further. Villages were burned or pillaged, and the land itself was damaged by the countless battles that took place all over the Holy Roman Empire.

It took a heavy toll on him, as well. His house was crumbling, his people turning on each other and dividing; he was losing, losing, losing, and god he just wanted to see her one last time—

Many of his people abandoned him. They fragmented, leaving him weak and powerless.

Was he dying? Chaos filled his head, making it hard to think. His body hurt so much. He couldn't see anything anymore. His body— his house—

Chibitalia. He wished she were beside him, and at the same time, he was strangely glad she wasn't.

He was suddenly grateful that she had rejected his proposals. If she hadn't, she might have ended up dying along beside him.

Holy Roman Empire didn't want that. She was so happy, so pure; she didn't deserve to die here, alone on a battlefield. Or was he alone? He couldn't tell anymore. His world had faded into silence.

Better that she live without him. But… would she wait for him, even after he was gone? Would anyone tell her what happened? He hoped they did it kindly.

He hadn't intended to break his promise to her.

Chibitalia. He missed her so much. "I'll… love you…" He was vaguely conscious of his lips moving, although he heard no sound. "Always… Chibitalia…"

Even the chaos in his head was fading. Everything dropped away, leaving him to darkness.

Holy Roman Empire remembered no more.

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Germany slowly opened his eyes, frowning softly, staring blearily at the ceiling. Was that it? Was that the end of Holy Roman Empire's life? Were these weeks of unpredictable emotions and restless sleep finally over?

He was relieved, naturally, but regret also tugged at his heart. Holy Roman Empire – it was still hard to reconcile that identity as his own – had truly loved little Chibitalia. However, knowing what he now knew, Holy Roman Empire had never returned to fulfill his promise to her… well, him.

That was sad, wasn't it? His unruly heart sure seemed to think so. Sighing, Germany let his head fall to the side, allowing his cheek to rest on his pillow.

"Ve~" Italy hummed contently, sleeping naked as always, curled up under the covers beside the strong blonde.

Germany yanked backward, spluttering in shock. "I-Italy!?" What was he doing here!? Germany had forbidden him from sneaking into his bed weeks ago, back when this dream mess had started. He had hoped to avoid the exact situation he was in now: heart pounding, face flushed, emotions running wild.

"Ve~ Germany~?" Italy lifted his head, smiling drowsily.

"What are you doing here!?" he snapped, struggling to calm himself.

"I was just worried about you, Germany~ I couldn't sleep, so I came to see if you were still awake, but you were crying in your sleep, and, and, we're friends, aren't we~? So I tried to wait for you to wake up to make sure you were okay, Germany, but then I got sleepy and—" Italy babbled sheepishly, obviously hoping the other Nation wouldn't hit him for the intrusion.

Crying in his sleep? Him? Anger temporarily turned into confusion as the blonde touched his own cheek, feeling the slick traces of tears. Ah. So he had been crying…

Instead of delivering the scolding smack that Italy seemed to expect, Germany awkwardly patted the brunet's shoulder in gratitude. His bare shoulder. Ack, he should have rethought that move; he flushed.

"…Thank you." He wasn't very good at these kinds of things. "But, uh… I'm all right. Why don't you go back home now?"

"B-But…" The pasta-lover pouted. "Switzerland already chased me with his gun when I came here… and he's scary, Germany~" Italy shivered at the memory.

"Go through Austria's lands instead." Germany frowned at him. "Why did you come past Switzerland's house if he keeps shooting at you?"

Italy paused. "Ve…" He laughed, ruefully. "I always forget I can do that~"

Germany sighed, aggravated, and Italy hastily got out of the bed. The blonde just barely averted his eyes in time; suddenly, the thought of seeing Italy naked made him feel flustered. Italy grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor so that he could redress.

"I hope Germany feels better soon~" Italy smiled warmly at him, and the heat in Germany's face increased. "I'll bring some pasta later to help, ve~?"

Germany nodded awkwardly, and Italy left. The blonde sighed once he had gone, slumping back onto his pillow. 'What a day…' It had barely begun, and he had already dealt with more than he felt like handling at the moment.

As he lay there, his thoughts inevitably returned to the dream. Holy Roman Empire… if Germany was truly him, then what had happened to him after that last memory? He couldn't have died; otherwise, Germany shouldn't have been sitting right where he was, thinking about it. He would be dead.

Did his own memories have a clue? Germany frowned, closing his eyes as he tried to remember.

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Gradually, the darkness that enveloped his consciousness eased, allowing him to finally wake up.

Blue eyes opened for the first time in years, and the teenager's brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Where… was he? He blinked, frowning unconsciously as he slowly sat up.

Suddenly, someone snorted, drawing his gaze. A young man was sprawled arrogantly in a chair beside the bed, watching him with bored red eyes.

"Geez, it took you long enough." He ran a hand through his gray hair, shooting a smirk at the youth. "I was starting to think you were gonna stay a useless lump forever."

"…" He merely stared at the older male, realizing that he somehow seemed vaguely familiar. "Who are you?" His mind was empty: no names, faces, or locations. He couldn't even remember— "Who am I?" The blond teenager wondered aloud, at a loss.

"Me?" The young man laughed, sharply. "I can't believe you've forgotten. I'm your brother, idiot. The completely awesome and unbeatable Prussia! You should remember that, especially since I'm the only one who bothered to save your worthless ass." He flicked the youth on the nose, causing him to scowl.

"As for who you are… you really don't remember anything?" Prussia waited for him to respond, red eyes calculating as the blonde slowly shook his head. "Huh. Weird. Well, maybe it's for the best! Not like you're really missing much in that thick head of yours, anyway." Snorting again, he sat forward in the chair, bracing his hands on his knees casually. "Who you are…"

The youth frowned at him, wondering why this 'brother' of his had to think about his name. Shouldn't he know it straight off, if they really were brothers? Prussia, almost as he if he sensed the blonde's suspicion, merely rolled his eyes.

"Our grandfather was Germania, you know. So, I guess, looking at it that way…" Prussia shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you would be Germany now. Good for you. I'm still better, so don't forget that."

"Germany?" He repeated, his frown only deepening. There wasn't anything wrong with the name… but then, there wasn't anything right about it either. Did it really matter if it was his name? It didn't change the fact his memory was still a blank slate. Sighing, he decided to trust Prussia. "I am Germany?"

"Yeah, yeah, you are." Warming up to the idea, Prussia smirked, obviously pleased with himself for being so awesome.

"Did I have an accident?" Germany asked, still trying to figure out why his memory was gone.

"You could say that." Prussia laughed ironically. "If you call losing a war an accident."

"I lost a war?" Germany's brow furrowed.

"You were in a coma for a long while." The other merely shrugged again. "Near death, but not all the way there. Still, that degenerate aristocrat almost did you in."

"Who?" Germany disliked being so clueless, but there wasn't much he could do besides ask.

"Austria." Prussia's eyes burned angrily. "After you fell, that sissy tried to keep everything together – only to lose to that idiot France. He just let your empire dissolve, but I fought to reunify it and bring you back. And I guess I succeeded, huh? Look who kicks ass, Austria! It definitely ain't you!" The gray-haired young man cackled triumphantly.

Germany ignored the unsettling laughter, staring at his hands as he mulled over this new information. "I still can't remember anything…" He glanced up at Prussia again, unhappy about that fact. "Am I forgetting anything important?" His chest seemed oddly hollow, almost as if he had indeed lost something impor—

Prussia didn't even have to think about it; he replied immediately. "Naaah. Nothing that I can think of. What's important is now, anyway!" He smirked broadly. "Let's get some food in you, and then I'll start whipping you back into shape! Ha ha, being so awesome is such a burden, but I'll do you the favor of training you, since you're my brother and all." Still laughing arrogantly, he grabbed Germany by the arm and dragged him from the bed.

Germany's legs were weak from disuse, and he collapsed almost as soon as his feet hit the floor. Prussia grunted in surprise as the youth flailed and grabbed onto him, clinging to him for balance.

"You're so weak…" There was both amazement and disapproval in his voice. "Geez, you can't even stand by yourself?" Prussia blew out a frustrated breath, not having expected the extent of Germany's condition – although honestly, he should have. The last time the teenager had truly been active was back around the Thirty Years' War. Red eyes closed briefly in consideration as Germany clung to him, struggling to stand on his own. "Okay. See… this is how it's going to go."

Before Germany could move or protest, Prussia swept the youth's shaking legs out from under him and picked him up. The blonde yelped, spluttering in shock as Prussia carried him out of the room like a bride.

"Wh-What're you—!?" Germany flushed angrily, arms locked around the older Nation's neck for balance.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Prussia rolled his eyes. "I'm going to take care of you, idiot. That's what a big brother should do, right?" He laughed briefly, ignoring the strange looks he was gathering as he carried Germany out of the house and onto the street. "I'll take care of you until you can stand on your own, and then we'll kick ass together. The unbeatable brothers – east and west, together." He grinned as Germany glowered. "What, you don't like that idea? It'd make a totally awesome book."

"People are staring…" Germany grumbled under his breath as Prussia headed for the beer hall.

"Let them stare! Attention is good!" Prussia was way too cheerful for Germany's liking. Did he enjoy irritating the blonde? "Notoriety is always better than anonymity, West."

"You won't have any trouble getting that, I bet…" The teenager muttered under his breath, glaring at his smirking brother. And why had he suddenly been dubbed a direction?

"Nope! I have quite a reputation around here for being awesome." Prussia bragged triumphantly, pushing open the door to the beer hall with his shoulder. He strode in fearlessly, depositing the grumpy teenager in one of the seats by the bar.

Everyone went quiet, staring at the unexpected arrival – or, more accurately, his charge. Germany flushed, examining the wood grain of the bar with sullen determination.

Prussia clapped a hand on his shoulder, smirking at everyone. "This is Germany, guys. He'll be around from now on. He's one of us!" The uneasy silence remained for a few moments longer, but then it dissolved.

Most of the people returned to their own conversations, while others approached to speak with Prussia and discuss young Germany. He remained where he was, awkwardly hunching his shoulders, while Prussia laughed at jokes, bragged about his awesomeness, and insulted Austria. Had his brother already forgotten about him? Germany scowled unhappily, wondering exactly what the point of this embarrassment was.

Suddenly, a delicious smell hit his nose. Germany glanced up, startled, as a plate was put before him. A mug was set down beside it. The barkeeper smiled at him, briefly, before moving on. Germany looked at the food he had been offered, examining the wurst and potatoes in astonishment. The mug was filled with beer. Although he hadn't realized it until now, he really was very hungry. Thirsty, too. Eyes stinging with gratitude, Germany began to eat.

When he was finishing up, Prussia finally waved away the people he was talking to, taking a seat beside the young blonde. "Good, right?" He grinned as Germany nodded, face flushed. His head was pleasantly fuzzy, and he found himself smiling idly as he told Prussia he was ready to go home.

Prussia rolled his eyes, snorting at how Germany was acting after so little alcohol. "Another thing I'm going to fix," he muttered to himself, more amused than actually annoyed. "We've got a lot to do, West." He said the last part almost fondly, obviously having decided to continue calling Germany that as a nickname. "I'll take you home now, if you want, but tomorrow I'll be kicking your ass out of bed early. You got that?" Prussia smirked.

Germany nodded again, yawning slightly. After being unconscious for so long… it seemed odd that he could be so tired, but he was. He hardly protested as Prussia scooped him up, merely closing his eyes as the gray-haired young man carried him out of the beer hall. The walk back to the house was rather uneventful, characterized only by Prussia harassing Germany to keep him awake. Once he got back to the bedroom, however, he dumped Germany in the bed and wished him a good night.

"Slip into another coma, though, and I'll kill you myself!" He laughed, not entirely joking.

Prussia left, and Germany rested where his brother had left him, slowly drifting off to sleep. As his limbs filled with lead, a young brunette in a maid's outfit appeared briefly in his mind's eye. Concern filled her sweet face as she spoke to him, but no sound came from her lips. She stretched out her little hand, reaching for his.

The blonde smiled slightly as he sank into oblivion.