Prussia sighed as another deafening clap of thunder erupted in the sky. It was hard to get any work done when he was interrupted by the gunshots of nature every two seconds. He rubbed his temples, squinting down at the paper as he scanned over line after tedious line. At least now he had West fed and in bed, but he was tired himself and wanted more than anything to snuggle under his blankets and fall asleep like his lucky little brother.
But it turned out that Germany wasn't in bed after all. He felt a sudden tug at his sleeve and looked down to meet two wide, baby-blue eyes that threatened to spill over with tears. The child reached his arms up and of course, Prussia was defenseless against his little brother's sad eyes. He lifted him up and sat him in his lap, facing him.
"What's wrong, West?" he asked softly, stroking his little brother's soft blonde hair. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad dream? What's keeping you up?"
He got his answer when another crack of thunder sent Germany burying his now tear-soaked face into Prussia's stomach. The child's fingers clutched at him mercilessly, and the little body shook with terror. West was afraid of storms.
"Aw, West," Prussia whispered, holding his brother close to his heartbeat, knowing that would soothe him, "are you scared of the thunder?"
A pitiful, "M-hm", followed by a whimper and a sniffle, was his reply. Prussia remembered when he was Germany's age, and Fritz or Germania would calm his fears during a storm. The loud sound was upsetting to a child Germany's age, and Prussia's little brother was especially timid.
Prussia wished he could stop the thunder that made his little brother afraid. The thought that anything should dare upset his precious Germany made him angry, but unfortunately, even as awesome as he was, he wasn't God. He couldn't control the weather.
He could distract the child, though. He remembered when he was scared or sick or hurting, and Fritz would sing to him. Stroking his baby brother's back as he carried him back to bed, Prussia sang softly. "Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be all right, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound…"
He continued to sing as he tucked Germany into bed and turned on his nightlight. The child's breathing grew soft and relaxed as fatigue began to overtake his little body, and with his big brother there to protect him, he grew calm and let his heavy eyelids droop.
Prussia brushed away Germany's bangs and kissed his forehead. He was about to leave, but he heard a soft voice say, "Bruder?"
Prussia turned back and saw that Germany's eyes were open again. "What is it, West?" he asked gently.
"Will you hold me tonight?"
There was nothing in Prussia that could say no to that little voice. His miniscule amount of paperwork left could wait until the morning. "Of course, West," he said, smiling, and climbed into the small bed. Germany's little body wiggled itself toward his brother and he laid his head on Prussia's chest, soothed by his pulse.
The bed was made for a child, and Prussia was uncomfortable, he was hot due to the blankets and his brother's body heat, and he had some insomnia from all the coffee he'd drank earlier that day, but nonetheless he was more than happy to hold his baby brother. After all, Germany wouldn't be little forever.