Anonymous Reply:

The Krayon: I'm really glad to hear that! Ahh, I'm always afraid of making him OOC because I'm RPing him somewhere else and I keep feeling like I'm doing him wrong...thanks a bunch for reading! I always love hearing from you~

Jodhaa Salik: Ahh, you're too kind to me. -bashful- Hmm, how to pronounce their names? Uh...Prussia would be like...Pruh-sha. Austria would be Ah-stree-a. Hungary would sound like the word 'hungry.' I'm not sure if that what you means, but...-coughs- thanks for reading and reviewing though!

You've only got one shot, Hungary. Make it good.

Hungary quietly slipped out of the barracks that she shared with the nurses in the military fort. The tip of the rising sun barely skimmed the horizon, but she was awake and alert. The only ones awake now were some of the guards patrolling the heavy door on top of the wall. Prussia and three companies had left late last night to escort the indisposed soldiers from one miserable fort to another. The coast was finally clear for her.

She slowly shut and bolted the door behind her, taking extra effort to avoid drawing any attention. Some of her soldiers were patrolling the fort as well, but they had little care for keeping the fort safe. Their job was to navigate every nook and cranny of the fort in order to plan Austria's escape and the ultimate attack more meticulously.

Tucking her hair into her tight hat, she hurriedly scampered toward one of her men. Her boots made light patting sounds on the gritty soil, interrupting the morning silence. Prussian soldiers spared her a curious glance before moving on with their work, suspecting nothing.

"Abbot!" Hungary hissed. Abbot, a bearded redhead, turned quickly to Hungary. She dashed to his side, one hand clamped over her hat and the other holding her musket tightly. She immediately slowed her pace into an aimless amble when she reached him, feigning no conspiracy. After walking in silence together past the Prussian guards, she finally spoke up.

"What have you and the others found out?" she asked.

"This place is massive. It took a great amount of time to map this place out mentally," Abbot said under his breath. He eyed a Prussian soldier that was close by, loading his musket with gunpowder. "The building past the place where they make repairs—that is where they keep a lot of gunpowder. I don't think it's even all of it."

"What else?" Hungary urged. Abbot closed his mouth as three Prussians walked past them. He watched them leave with narrowed eyes before continuing.

"There are batteries atop their fortifications that they can aim at anyone threatening them," Abbot reported. "They are not fixed to the spot, so if trouble erupts inside the fort, they could easily swerve their aim."

"How much gunpowder is in that storage house behind the repair station?"

"Several barrels—the place wasn't very big, but it's enough to supply several companies—perhaps even a battalion," answered Abbot. Hungary chewed on the corner of her lip contemplatively.

"Is that place guarded?" she asked curiously.

"Not exactly. The doors are locked and there are no windows to it, but otherwise there is no actual guard standing post," said Abbot.

"I'm supposing Prussia has the key for that," Hungary muttered to herself. She thought of the ring of keys dangling teasingly on Prussia's belt. "What about the prisons?"

Abbot glanced around to make sure their conversation was not overheard. "I haven't seen it for myself, nor have any of our other men. However, I heard that the barracks are between the headquarters and the stables, not too far from the gunpowder room."

"Isn't that where the infirmary is?" Hungary asked.

"Yes. They share the same building, except the cells are downstairs," confirmed Abbot. "It's such a large building; I actually don't find it surprising that it serves two roles."

Hungary cursed under her breath. "There are guards there all the time. And I'm sure there are at least two guards down in the actual prison. How am I supposed to go there? I need to tell Austria that I'm actually here and I'm going to help him."

"Shh," Abbot warned, glaring at two unaware strangers from the corner of his eyes. The Prussians glanced confusedly at their way but did not press further. "You're in enemy territory; shouldn't you be more careful?"

"All right, all right," Hungary said, irritated at being scolded. "When do you think is better: now, when not everyone is alert and awake, or later, when there is too much going on for them to notice?"

"It all depends on your means of going to Austria," Abbot said in a low voice.

Hungary stayed silent for a moment, thinking furiously for a plan. Her eyes locked on Prussia's headquarters a little ways off.

"Prussia is apparently under the impression that I hate Austria," she said slowly. "I'll just use that to my advantage."

Abbot did not reply. Hungary beckoned him to follow her as she strode quickly toward the infirmary and prisons. There was only one soldier at the entrance of the building, and when he saw Hungary advancing he turned to her sharply.

"Your business?" he said efficiently.

"I have to get in," Hungary said harshly.

"I can see that," the soldier said testily. "But your reason?"

"It's the infirmary. What other information do you need? Isn't it quite obvious?" Hungary snapped. The soldier studied her with his cloudy green eyes. She could tell that he was skeptical of her reason, seeing that she appeared unharmed.

"I need to seek help from a nurse," lied Hungary. "I have female problems that I need to deal with now."

The fib apparently convinced the young soldier enough. He nodded quickly and stood to the side, permitting Hungary in. However, Abbot was stopped at the door immediately, for he had no reason to follow Hungary as she tended to her 'female problems.'

"Danke," Hungary said surly as she hurried down the corridor. When the sunlight in the hallway disappeared as the door closed behind her, she took a quick detour to the iron door and down the black stairs at the very end of the passageway. Her footsteps echoed eerily in the emptiness, sounding wet and cold.

One guard was pacing through the prison room, his bored eyes locked on Austria's. He almost didn't notice Hungary as she sped downstairs. It was difficult to see where Austria was even when the prisons were lit with oil lamps. Before the guard could confront her, she marched up to Austria's cell. Austria looked up at her in surprise and stood up quickly, emerging from the sickly shadows. Austria was very pale and looked ill, making Hungary sick to the stomach with hatred of Prussia.

She didn't even have time to consider her actions. She strode up to him, and just as the guard was about to push her away, she spat at Austria.

Austria jerked back in surprise. Hungary was immediately sick with guilt when she saw the confusion and hurt in his wide, violet eyes. Even the guard seemed taken aback, stopping immediately in his tracks.

"It's good to see where you belong," she said coldly. Austria didn't reply, nor did his expression change, but Hungary knew him enough to recognize the change in emotion behind his dark eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and turned quickly to the guard.

"Could you please excuse us?" Hungary said through gritted teeth. "I want to have some moments alone with my monster of a slave owner and tell him just exactly what I thought about all those years of serving under him."

The guard bit his lip and saluted, recognizing a livid country when he saw one. He gave a short bow before climbing up the stairs. She did not move until she heard the resonating clang of the metal door upstairs. Once she heard that, she immediately reached through the bars and took Austria's hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that disrespect. Please forgive me."

Austria gripped Hungary's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her sharp knuckles. She felt a warm glow inside of her at his familiar touch and she couldn't help but laugh weakly.

"Are you all right?" Austria asked worriedly. "Has Prussia hurt you?"

"I should be the one asking that to you!" Hungary exclaimed. "What happened to your glasses?" She gazed at his disheveled state, noting the bandages around his legs and head.

Austria gave a wry smile that told everything. Hungary gritted her teeth.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Hungary said quietly. "I promise." She cast a nervous glance at the stairway. She backed away from the prison cells and shouted in a loud voice, "How could you say that?" She turned back to Austria guiltily.

"I have to keep up the act that I hate you," she said apologetically. "They might suspect something."

"Are you alone here?" Austria asked.

"No. I have several of my men with me," Hungary said. "And…it's already been decided. I've already planned for two battalions to march over here and attack the fort. That is if I don't get you out of here by then."

"How much longer until they arrive?" Austria demanded.

"Perhaps…perhaps three days from now," Hungary estimated. "I want to get you out of here before then. I don't want to risk any more lives."

Austria pursed his lips in thought. He shook his head. "No. I think we should wait until they actually arrive."

"Why?" Hungary asked, aghast.

"If it is just you, me, and a handful of your soldiers running away from this fort, Prussia's men would catch up with us and defeat us in no time," Austria pointed out. "Then Prussia will hurt you, and we'll be back to the beginning, except at a very great disadvantage."

"So you want to be busted out right when my men appear?" inquired Hungary.

"The more confusion, the better distraction," Austria pointed out swiftly. "Perhaps we need to convince the guards upstairs that you hate me once more."

"Right," Hungary said regretfully. She motioned for Austria to back away from the bars. He did so according, and Hungary raised her musket and banged the handle on the bars. The sharp and angry clang rang through the prison.

"As we were saying," Austria said smoothly as if nothing happened, "it would be better if I was out of this prison cell right before your men make an attack. If Prussia realizes that his enemies happen to be Hungarian, you will be in great danger."

"I'm the one busting you out of this cell in the first place. I'm signing up for great danger no matter what."

"But you could do it inconspicuously," Austria insisted. "Do you know where the prison keys are?"

"Yes!" Hungary answered feverishly. "Prussia keeps them."

"Delightful," Austria muttered. He ran a gray hand through his mussy hair. "Is there any way you can get your hands on them?"

"I could try," Hungary said warily.

"Thank you," Austria said gratefully. "Bring them to me before the attack. I'll carry out the rest. Tell me about the layout of this fort, please."

"To the left of this building is the horse stables," Hungary said quickly. "Right next to that is where they keep some extra gunpowder. To the right is the officers' headquarters, and a little ways further is the barracks." She used her fingers to imitate two walking legs, as if giving Austria a makeshift tour of the fort. "Right in front is where they keep their food, and around that is a repair station, weaponry, and more barracks."

"What about the walls and the entrance to this place? How impenetrable?" Austria questioned.

"The walls are thick stone. Quite impenetrable," confessed Hungary. "The doors are just as well, and there are men that guard the doors and control them—whether or not they will open."

"Are they on the ground or on the walls?" Austria asked.

Hungary furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. "They're on top. The walls are about two hundred and fifty meters high."

Austria nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed with thought. "Cannons on top as well, I presume?"

"Obviously," Hungary muttered. Afterward, she let out a ruthless insult for the guards above to hear and even Austria feigned a cry of pain to add to the effect. "If you need to hide, I suggest the very back of the fort, behind the storage of coal."

"It isn't so I can hide," Austria said in a low voice. "It's for something else." He looked up warily. "I heard rumors that Prussia is trying to recruit you into some Freedom Fighter group or something along those lines."

"Those are certainly just rumors. I don't even know of a Freedom Fighter group," Hungary laughed. "Perhaps they were talking of how Prussia is always trying to convince me to regain my independence."

"Why?" Austria asked, even though he believed he already knew the answer too well.

"He—well," Hungary said with discomfort. "He doesn't like how you have control over me, I suppose. He's desperate to take me away from you."

Austria's eyes flickered to the ground; there was an unreadable expression on his face. "Does he really think I mistreat you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps," Hungary admitted. She never thought Austria as a tyrant in her life, but admittedly she would sometimes be bold at his control over her.

"You should go," Austria said quietly. "If you stay here too long, they might get suspicious."

"I'm surprised that they aren't checking on you to make sure I haven't killed you yet," Hungary quipped.

"I'm sure Prussia told them that I was better off dead anyway," Austria said, shrugging. Hungary nodded and backed away. Before she did, Austria pulled her close by the hand and kissed it once more time. Hungary felt her heart both flutter with joy and ache because Austria was forced to suffer and she couldn't do anything about it. She squeezed his fingers, reluctant to let go.

"Go," Austria urged. Hungary took in a deep breath before releasing her grip on him. She bounded up the stairs, forcing herself not to look back in fear that she would cave in and rush back to him, perhaps even blowing her cover. She glanced down at her hand, still warm and cheered from Austria's kiss.

Her mind suddenly flitted toward Prussia.

She gulped and immediately shoved her hand into her pocket, bewildered.

Where did Prussia belong in all of this?

It was near evening when Prussia finally returned to the fort with the battle-worn company he had gone to fetch. When the guards of the walls finally pulled the lever back and opened the door, Hungary saw with horror the state of the weary company. Many were riding wagons because they were unfit to walk, and those that were lucky enough to be on their feet were still covered in dirty makeshift bandages. Many of them had lost their military wigs, so their long hair was slick with sweat and blood.

The wounded soldiers were quickly ushered into the infirmary. Hungary craned her neck to try to find Prussia in the midst of them, but was unsuccessful. There were just too many people. It wasn't like she could search for a shock of white hair to locate him; not only was it dusk and dark, but many heads were bandaged, giving the impression of pale hair.

What had happened to these men? Were they battling England's army? She wasn't sure if England bothered to even fight with Prussia or not, considering that he always busied himself with defeating France.

"Wo kommen Sie her?" Hungary asked the first soldier she approached, her tongue feeling heavy with the unfamiliar German. The soldier spared her a glance but did not answer. She watched as the group of people trudged to the infirmary, her heart sinking at the sight. This did not look like the army of the ruthless Prussian army she had always pictured; they only looked like homesick and defeated men, lost in the whirlwind of blood and metal. Even victors had to pay a price.

"Prussia?" she cried out, her voice rising over the men's heads. "Prussia!" Receiving no response, she hurried to the infirmary. The beds were all occupied and the nurses were flying from one patient to another. They had to strip the soldiers of their dirty, bloodied bandages and clean the wounds as best as they could. Many were already infected.

"Prussia!" Hungary tried again, standing on her tip-toes.

"Over here, Hungary!"

She heard Prussia's loud voice over the loud din. She maneuvered her way through the rows of beds to where Prussia was. Prussia couldn't even stand still for one second. He was helping the nurses bandage his men's wounds, pour water, stitch deep cuts, even clean the bed sheets. He quickly moved back and forth, his hands constantly busy. Hungary noted that Prussia was limping now; the sprained ankle was finally catching up on him.

"What happened to everyone?" Hungary asked.

Prussia didn't have time to answer. A small cry called him to the farthest corner of the infirmary and he hurried off immediately with a roll of bandages in one hand and a rag soaked in hot water in the other. Hungary searched around for an unattended roll of bandages for her to take, but there were none. All of them were being used if not already used up.

"Prussia, let me do all of this," Hungary demanded, reaching out to take the wet rag and bandages.

"I'll do it. I'm fine," Prussia said in a rushed voice. He was proficiently wrapping up a man's bleeding leg.

"You should be treated yourself!" Hungary cried out. "Look at your ankle!"

"I told you, it'll be fine!" Prussia insisted. He poured a glass of water and gave it to a soldier whose eyes were covered with white and red.

A voice nagged at her in the back of her head. What would Austria think if he saw her tending to his wounded enemies? Nevertheless, she couldn't just waltz out of the infirmary and feel nothing for them. They were no longer masked with the bloodthirsty aura that she thought she hated; she saw the raw, pained men underneath.

Prussia handed Hungary a chick wad of clean bandages. A young voice cried out in pain; Prussia closed his eyes. Hungary could see the pain in his face that had nothing to do with physical wounds. He opened them and gazed into Hungary's eyes. His red eyes were filled with an emotion Hungary never imagined that Prussia could even comprehend.

"Help me," Prussia pleaded. Hungary couldn't refuse him. She nodded fervently and followed him to the bedside of a very young soldier. Prussia gritted his teeth before pushing up his sleeves and kneeling next to the bed.

"Luther Friedman, isn't it?" Gilbert muttered. The young boy nodded shakily. The bandaged wrapped around his head and covered his right eye was colored with blood, and his arm was in a sling. His whole torso was covered in bloody bandages. "It's okay; I'm going to patch you up."

Luther gulped and nodded once more. Gilbert undid the knot on the crude sling carefully, trying not to disturb the injured arm. Hungary set down her bandages on the bedside and helped Gilbert slide the grubby cloth away from the boy.

"What happened to the last fort these men were in?" Hungary murmured to Gilbert. She thought of how meticulous and well supplied this fort was.

"England decided to make his mark," Prussia said briefly. He pursed his lips at the sight of the very broken arm. It was set correctly, but there was no doubt that it was very shattered. Without saying another word, he wrapped the arm with a thick layer of cloth. Luther swallowed hard, forcing down grunts of pain. Hungary could see the blood seeping through his bandages on his chest.

"Once we have you fixed and healed, you get to rest," Prussia promised, tying the sling around the boy's neck. "Isn't that great? You'll get to relax and I'll bet that the war will be over before you even get to return to duty."

Luther gave a brittle and hollow laugh that unnerved Hungary. Boys as young as Luther shouldn't have so little hope. War did not just kill men. Hope was one of the thousands of victims.

"You live in—in Berlin, don't you?" Prussia asked. Hungary wondered how Prussia could even keep a tab on every one of his soldiers. When Luther nodded, Prussia gave him a sunny smile. "Amazing. That's where I am as well. Maybe after we win this war, I'll go to your family and brag to them how awesome you were."

"D-don't have to," Luther stuttered bashfully. His face was beginning to pale, and though Prussia's optimistic persona did not falter, his hands began to work more frantically as he unraveled the bandages on Luther's sunken chest.

When the bandages were removed, Hungary felt her heart sink. The wound was so ghastly, and there were already signs of infection. She could feel Prussia's tension as well as he hesitated before cleaning the wound. Luther gasped in pain as Prussia struggled to clean the infection. It looked several days old already.

"It's bad—isn't it?" Luther mumbled.

"No," Prussia said stoutly. "You will be all right, Luther. Just trust me."

Luther was trembling—whether from pain from his grotesque injury or from emotion, it was hard to tell. Hungary had to scrape the infected flesh from his chest with a knife; she was amazed she didn't cut the boy in half because her hands were shaking. This was not new to her; she had fixed horrible wounds before, so why was she so nervous now?

"It's been like that for days," Luther said quietly. "Maybe even a week. It must have gone really—really bad, hasn't it?"

"We just need to clean it up and bandage it tight," Prussia said with determination that shook his voice. Luther was paling dramatically now, almost to a grisly gray. "Then you have to rest. I told you that. Don't worry. Please," his voice seemed to break after he said that word, "don't worry."

Hungary felt her throat tighten as she handed Prussia the fresh roll of bandages. The boy's chest looked so frightening that even she had her doubts. How young was he? Eighteen? Not even old enough to marry and he was about to die.

All around them the moans of men and the nurses speaking in condescending voices echoed in their ears. Hungary could barely hear herself think. The infirmary was chaotic yet she could only see and know one thing; this boy—Luther—was dying on this very bed.

"Hungary!" Prussia said loudly. "Scissors!"

Hungary handed him the blades. Prussia cut the bandages off from the rest of the roll and tied it tight.

"Poroszország," Hungary said quietly, reverting to her own language. She knew that Prussia knew enough of Hungarian to understand. She stared at the clean bandages that covered an impossible would and couldn't help but think that it was going to be for a waste. "Nem fogja túlélni."

Prussia looked up in shock at Hungary's bluntness. The energy in his eyes turned from frantic to cold resolve.

"You're wrong," Prussia said sharply. He glanced nervously down at Luther, who was sickly pale and extremely worried. He lowered his voice and replied back in the unfathomable Hungarian. "I can heal something like this. I've done it before."

Prussia saw how Hungary's expression did not change. However, Hungary could see that his eyes were not coated with fortitude with a thin pit of doubt nestled deep inside; it was pure determination. Hungary hesitated before nodding and continuing to help Prussia.

But it was going horribly for them. Just as they moved on to fixing the head would, the chest wound burst open again and soaked the bandages through. Hungary had to tend to the head wound as Prussia returned to the old injury.

"It h-hurts," Luther choked out as Prussia mopped the blood off his chest. Prussia set his jaw but didn't speak or betray his composure. His hands were smothered with the boy's blood.

"Just relax. We've got it under control," muttered Prussia. He began to stitch up the boy's chest. Hungary was gently cleaning the dried blood on Luther's head. Even that gash looked absolutely worrying.

"Herr Preußen!" a nurse's voice called out. The young girl was swamped with injured soldiers. "Bitte helfen Sie mir!"

Prussia held back momentarily. He clenched his teeth before looking back at the desperate nurse. Even with the fort's large supply of nurses, the hospice was still barely keeping afloat in the ocean of blood. He hurriedly finished stitching the wound and wrapping it up once more.

"Stay calm, all right?" Prussia said to Luther, wiping off the blood in a basin of water. "Keep your breathing level so you won't burst any of those stitches." He nodded toward Hungary. "You're in good hands."

Hungary felt a cold chill as Prussia rose to his feet and followed the nurse asking for help. She turned back to Luther, who was looking no better. She sucked in a deep breath and continued with the head injury; the air smelt of sticky sweat, blood, and mud.

"Is it that easy?" Luther said in a strangled voice. Hungary did not understand him until she saw him gazing at something from the side. Nurses had pulled a sheet over one fellow soldier's head and carried him out. There was no time for words of memory or respect. That bed was needed.

Hungary had no idea what to say. All her life she knew that death was a faraway and unfamiliar thing, something she needn't worry about. She rode out into battle without any fear or thought of it. How could she comfort a human boy like Luther if she had absolutely no knowledge how it felt to almost die?

"I'm almost done with your bandages here," Hungary answered quietly. "And then you won't have to worry."

"I want to go home," Luther whispered. Hungary stiffened at the boy's honest words but did not even pause in her work. The tightening in her throat nearly choked her as she fumbled with the bandages with her trembling hands.

"You will," Hungary said desperately. She finally tied the last knot on the bandages. "I'm done. See? You can sleep now. Rest."

Luther nodded shakily and closed his eyes. Hungary backed away and rubbed her fingers together. They were sticky and gritty with dried blood.

She looked around her, gazing at the bloodied chaos. To think that even the Prussian army could be reduced to such a state! Her previous mental image of old, burly soldiers was reduced to withering, helpless boys.

How was it possible for her to hate them?

She then remembered that soon, if not three days from now, if these boys made it back by then, she would have to fight and kill them.

Hungary was cloaked with midnight.

Prussia had stayed up till nearly one thirty in the morning tending to the soldiers, and Hungary could never get close enough to him to sneak the key from his belt. It wasn't until he returned to his headquarters around two in the morning did Hungary sneak towards it. Very few men were up at this hour; they were either sleeping away in the barracks or being tended by the gentle nurses in the sickbay. The guards patrolling on top of the wall were focused on the happenings outside their fort, not inside.

As quietly as she could, she opened the door to the large headquarters building. Most of the high-ranking officers slept in their own rooms apart from the others in the army, so Hungary assumed that Prussia did the same. If he was asleep by now, and his belt thrown carelessly on the floor or a chair, Hungary could just slip the ring of keys off and succeed in her mission…

She tip-toed through the long hallway, her boots thudding on the wooden floor. She winced at every sound and prayed that all the officers were too dead asleep to hear her. Prussia's door was a little ways off, just five more down.

One…two…three…four…

She rested her hand on the doorknob, wondering what she would do if the door happened to be locked.

Five.

She gripped the handle and slowly turned it. The door opened to a slight slit. She took in a deep breath and pushed it open a little more.

"What are you doing here?"

Hungary let out a little squeak of surprise at Prussia's sharp whisper and nearly backed into the wall. Prussia was still awake, surrounded by a flurry of papers and maps. The room was lit by several knobby candles positioned haphazardly in the corners.

"I—I—" Hungary tried to answer, desperately thinking of a response. "I thought I accidentally left something here. Um, when you were gone, I was in here because—I was looking for a map. And I thought I left my—gloves—here."

It was probably the worst lie she could have ever thought of, but as Prussia looked around the room, Hungary reckoned that he didn't find it too surprising to lose anything in such a cluttered room. Prussia shrugged and pushed a pile of papers on the ground to the side with his foot.

"It couldn't wait until the morning?" he muttered.

"It was a spur of the moment sort of thing," Hungary said innocently. "I didn't think you would uh, be in here. Awake."

"Couldn't sleep," Prussia replied, running a hand through his white hair. "I'm surprised you're still awake. Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you?" Hungary found herself saying. Prussia still wore the belt, but the keys were no longer looped through it. She spotted them in his pocket instead. This was going to be much more difficult than she had imagined.

"I told you. I can't sleep," Prussia repeated. "I'm trying to—uh—do something." He looked around at the mess of papers. "I think." Even his cot was loaded with papers. It looked as if it hadn't been slept in for days.

"Why can't you sleep?" Hungary asked innocently. She saw Prussia's navy coat draped over a wooden chair. The sleeves were lined with dried blood.

"I shouldn't sleep," Prussia said flatly. He rubbed his eyes and cleared a spare chair of rubbish. "Here. Sit."

"I don't need to," Hungary protested. "You should be the one sitting. Don't try to hide it. Your ankle is getting worse."

"It's perfectly fine," Prussia said stubbornly. Hungary had to fight down the urge to kick his wounded ankle just to prove a point. Before, she would have done it immediately, but now she couldn't bring herself to do it. It didn't feel right anymore.

"Look at you. You're tired. Keep this up and you will drop dead in battle before you even start fighting," Hungary scolded.

"Since when did you become a mother hen?" Prussia quipped. Hungary glared at Prussia, but only because she didn't know the answer. She was shocked when she realized that inside, it was no longer an act to win trust. It was genuine.

"I heard from one of my guards that you went to visit a certain prisoner today," Prussia said in a strange voice. Hungary felt her heart skip a beat and cold fear froze her skin.

"I did," she said stiffly.

He cracked a slight smile that made Hungary relax. In all honesty, there was no reason to relax; he could easily denounce her right then and there. It was just that his smile made her feel relieved.

"He said you unleashed quite a hell on Austria," Prussia continued.

She let out a soft sigh. "Yes. I did." She swallowed hard. "I don't regret it."

"I thought you said you didn't mind Austria," Prussia pointed out as he scooped his papers and pens off his cot and arranged them on his desk.

"I thought I did also," Hungary said in a hollow voice. She averted her gaze to the floor. "But—I realized that the old life—what I have now—isn't the way I want to live. I don't want to be bound to Austria."

Prussia looked at her with a mixture of surprise and confusion. She braced herself and looked up at his face. It was hard to see what he was thinking or feeling since the room was so dim.

"Do you mean it?" Prussia said, unsure.

"Yes," Hungary choked out. "I miss being who I want to be."

She gripped her hands into fists. Prussia stared at her for a moment before moving toward her. However, just as he did so, his ankle gave out on him and he stumbled, crashing into the chair. Hungary gasped immediately and reached out to him.

"I told you, didn't I?" she hissed. "I told you that you would only hurt yourself more if you keep straining your ankle!"

"I hope no one woke up from that," Prussia muttered to himself, not paying heed to Hungary's warning. He hobbled to his cot, where he sat down and fingered his sprained ankle gingerly.

"Why can't you sleep?" Hungary asked again. "It certainly isn't because you aren't tired."

"I just can't," Prussia said sternly. Hungary sat down on a chair across from him. "It isn't anything out of the ordinary; I usually don't sleep a lot during war."

"That's stupid," Hungary said harshly. She softened her voice. "Maybe I can help?"

"Doubt it," Prussia said immediately. "It's just—" He hesitated. "I always get nightmares during wartime. I can't stand them anymore."

"Why do you get nightmares?" Hungary inquired, perplexed.

"I don't know. I just do," Prussia mumbled. "I-I'm not scared or anything!" he said stoutly, trying to cover up his weakness. "It's just—annoying to see those things and wake up in the middle of the night, and—well—you know what I mean, don't you?"

Hungary nodded, though inside she knew that it was all a lie. If they weren't frightening or disturbing, they wouldn't be considered nightmares in the first place.

"Are they about war?" she asked. Prussia nodded. "I thought you liked war."

"I like the fighting and the victory," Prussia admitted. He gazed out the small window on the wall. They could see the infirmary from here. His eyes did not harden with hatred and vengeance, but saddened. It was then that Hungary felt like she was his best friend in childhood again, where she could read his thoughts and understand him without having him say a word. "But I hate what it does to my men—"

He was interrupted when Hungary reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. He jumped slightly in his seat at the sudden embrace. She gripped him tightly, her mind screaming at her. What in the world was she doing? She backed away quickly, her face growing extremely warm. What had happened in the week that she had been here?

"Are you…?" Prussia said, confused.

"Don't say anything," Hungary mumbled. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She caught a glint and remembered the ring of keys. She almost forgot why she had come here.

"You should try going to bed," Hungary said softly. "There's a long day ahead."

"I told you; I'll have nightmares," Prussia reminded her.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Hungary said. Prussia blinked bemusedly. "Come on. It'll be safe."

Prussia let out a weak chuckle. "I can't fall asleep with you in the room. That's weird."

"Just do as I say, Prussia," Hungary said lightly. Prussia shrugged and lied down on the cot awkwardly, one leg still hanging off the edge. Hungary kicked it light and he obediently put that leg up as well.

"This is strange," Prussia admitted after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the attempt and all—but I'm not used to someone staring at me until I fell asleep."

Hungary ruffled his hair teasingly. She could see Prussia's eyelids grow heavy with fatigue and she placed his hand on top of hers. His hand was cool and yet familiar.

"Sleep, baby, sleep" Hungary sang softly. Prussia closed his eyes, a small smile on his face, "close your eyes…"

Her voice was soft, something she didn't expect. She would have suspected that her voice would always be cold and harsh towards her former enemy, but now it was as gentle as she would use with Austria.

Wait.

Former enemy?

"Sleep, ingo-bingo," she continued her lullaby. Prussia let out a chuckle at the nonsensical word and even Hungary couldn't suppress a smile. "Little rose bud…"

She had never even sung this to Austria before. She only remembered giving this song to baby Italy when the little child couldn't sleep after Holy Roman Empire had departed for war. She could barely remember the words, and most of the song consisted of humming now, the melody whispered over and over again.

So much can change in a week, can it?

"The violet is sleeping," Hungary sang tenderly. "Sleep, baby, sleep…"

Silence. Only soft breathing. Hungary glanced at Prussia and found him finally asleep. He seemed so different when he slept; no more arrogance, no more anger, just peace. For some reason, it almost broke her heart. She just realized that she was holding his hand tightly, and she quickly let go.

She sat in silence, watching his sleeping form. She didn't know how long it finally took her to remind herself once more why she was here. She slowly reached towards his pants pocket, her nerves shot with anxiousness. As slowly and as carefully as possible, she slipped her hand into the pocket. She felt the cold metal key ring graze against her finger and gripped it tightly before extracting it. Prussia stirred slightly and she froze, her heart beating wildly in her chest. When all was quiet again, she took the keys from Prussia.

The ring of keys jingled softly as they nestled against each other. Hungary searched through them carefully before recognizing one of the keys to be identical to the ones the guard down at the prison had. She slid the key from the ring and stowed it away in her pocket. As gently as she could, she stowed the key ring back into Prussia's pockets.

It was finished. She finally achieved it. She let out a sigh of relief before rising from her seat. She couldn't help but spare Prussia one last glance. She looked at him so differently now. Something cold and bitter coated her heart, but she couldn't understand what it was.

Guilt?

For what, though?

She turned to leave, but her muscles felt frozen to the spot. She took in a deep breath and stood from her seat. She blew out the candles, bathing the room in indigo as blue moonlight trickled from the window. She watched Prussia's silhouette, watching his chest rise as he breathed deeply. As her heart panged painfully, she finally tore herself away and disappeared from the room.

If the existence of a country is anything to base off of, I think that Prussia might actually be younger than both Austria and Hungary. The Teutonic Knights started off around 1190, which Prussia was before he was Prussia, whereas Hungary (Apparently one of the oldest countries in Europe) settled in 896 and Austria was born around 996. Wow, those two are old…according to Wikipedia (*shot'd*) Hungary is older than even France, who was not even unified into one country of Frenchies yet when she became the Kingdom of Hungary.

Just some…random thoughts of mine. OTL

Back in the day, military wigs and long hair was pretty popular in the Prussian army, especially during the time of Friederick the Great.

By the way, apparently the song Hungary was singing is a Hungarian lullaby.