Prussia lay on his bed, listening to Beethoven. He didn't feel like singing, he didn't feel like playing the guitar and he didn't feel like sitting up in general. The last thing he wanted was food and he just wanted to sleep, but he couldn't.

What have I done? Vatican says that Gott forgives me but...is Gott even real? If he is, he sure as Hölle hasn't done much help for me oder mein kleiner Bruder. I mean, if Gott is real, he's a Miststück. Oh, should I really be using such nasty words to be describe Gott? Maybe I shouldn't be.

Germany knocked on the door and his voice sounded broken. "Bruder? I made Peasant's Kartofflen. Do you want some?"

"I don't want to essen."

"Essen ist gut für dich." Germany's soft voice responded.

"Ich haben nicht Hunger." Prussia sighed, turning up his music.

"Fine."

I'm so mean to mein kleiner Bruder.

Prussia sighed, rolling over to his back.

Maybe I could try to pray. I've tried before but...it's worth a shot, right? If Gott ist real, then he should hear my prayer, right? Maybe if he's forgiving enough...he'll help me und Germany.

Prussia got down on his knees beside his bed, holding his hands together in classic prayer style.

This is how most people pray, right?

"Gott…" Prussia whispered. "Gott, just help. I need your help right now. I've sinned terribly and I can't make it right. I don't know how you're supposed to help, but I need you to. Help Germany. Help me." Prussia sighed, tears in his eyes. "Help mein Bruder. A-Amen." Prussia stuttered when saying "amen," purely out of doubt if any sort of higher spirit exists.

Prussia sighed, lying back onto his bed.

Prussia, France and Spain all sat together. France was reading a dirty magazine and Spain was eating churros while playing Mario Kart. Prussia sat next to France on the couch in Spain's basement, and Spain sat on the floor.

France showed Prussia a picture of a beautiful blonde woman who was shirtless and braless, just wearing a thong. "Does she float your boat? Ohonhon…"

"Guys, I think we're oversexed." Prussia blurted out.

"Si, of course we are." Spain chuckled. "What's you're point?" Spain shoved another churro in his mouth.

"Don't you think that's bad? I mean...we treat bodies like they're objects. I mean, Corinthians 7:8-9, 'Flee from sexual immortality. ...the sexual immoral person sins against their own body.'" Prussia quoted.

Spain paused his game. France closed his magazine. They both looked at him and simultaneously shouted, "You read the Bible!? And you remember quotes from it?!"

"Well...it's just that I've been talking to Father Vatican and all...well, that's beside the point. I'm not one of those crazy Catholics or anything, I'm just saying that I think we're all oversexed a bit. We judge the human body and treat it like a sexual object. People are so much more than that." Prussia crossed his arms sternly.

"Oh, is that something Vatican told you?" France mocked.

"France, Spain, you two are both the epitome of religious countries. Look at your pasts!" Prussia was getting angry now. They were mocking him for religion!

"The past is the past, Gilbert. Realize that." France sighed.

"I'm not saying I believe in any sort of God, I'm just saying that well...what if some sort of God exists? Then, according to some people, the three of us are going to hell. We're oversexed, we cheat, and we...well, we're not exactly completely heterosexual." Prussia shrugged.

"Don't start saying babbling about that 'God hates fags' shit to me!" Spain growled.

"I'm not saying that! You're putting words in my mouth! That's so unawesome!"

France sighed. "Hey, all countries have gone through their religious things. And keep in mind, Prussia used to be extremely religious to the point of not wanting to have sex at all. We have to respect and support Prussia's opinions. Just don't go saying that homosexuals are sinners and we'll be okay. You yourself did have sex with Italy."

Prussia suddenly began sobbing. "Gott, I had sex with Italy!"

France panicked. "Non, non, don't cry!"

"Prussia? Prussia, it's okay!" Spain seemed to beg for Prussia to stop crying.

"I'm awful, I'm awful, I'm awful! Sex with my brother's boyfriend! How low can I stoop?" Prussia sobbed hysterically.

France set a hand on Prussia's back. "Non, little hen, don't cry. We all make mistakes, right, Spain?"

"Si, si!"

"Nein, I really, really fucked up. I stooped to an all time low and I don't know what to do anymore. I had sex with my brother's boyfriend, then I beat up my brother's boyfriend!" Prussia covered his face with his hands. "What have I done?"

"You beat up Italy!?"

"Shut up, Spain, you're not helping the situation." France scolded, then turned back to Prussia. "Little hen… Shh…"

"I tried to look to religion for help but...I don't even know, it's not working! If Gott exists, he's a dick! I just... There's nothing I can do or say to rectify what I've done! I've fucked up, I've fucked up!" Prussia was practically hyperventilating, shaking and sobbing like a mad-man.

"Little hen...calm down. We're here for you."