Prussia was in a bad mood.
And not just because of his fight with Hungary.
No, his bad mood was at least partially caused by the bullet hole in his arm. Damn rednecks.
It didn't really hurt, though it was bleeding profusely. It hadn't been healing up the way it should, so Finland had sent him back to the ship.
It was extremely un-awesome, and Prussia would have argued, except it was a bad idea to argue with the nation who had perfected to Molotov Cocktail.
He really hoped there weren't any other casualties; he wanted to get his arm taken care of as soon as possible, so he could get back out there.
As he got to the infirmary, he began hearing shouting: curse words, based on inflection, but he wasn't really paying attention, and the curses weren't in German.
One of the nurses took him to an exam room and sat him on the table.
"This won't take too long, but I recommend sitting out of the battle for the rest of today and probably tomorrow," she said, examining his arm.
He didn't reply; he'd go back into battle as soon as he was done here.
The nurse started cleaning his wound with peroxide. He hissed and to take his mind off of the stinging sensation, he struck up a conversation.
"So, vhat's going on down here today?"
"We were swamped earlier, but it trickled off a few hours ago. And one of the officers went into labor this morning, so it's been-"
Prussia jumped off the table. Oh God, why hadn't he been here? He tried to dash out the door, but the nurse grabbed is (uninjured) arm.
"Sir, your arm needs stitches!"
"Fräulein, I don't care about zhat right now," he gritted. "Zhat's my wife!"
"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't let you in there."
"Zhe Hell you can't!" He wrenched free of her grip and absconded towards the door.
The nurse pushed the red emergency button on the wall.
Thirty seconds later, he was apprehended by the infirmary guards and dragged back to the exam table.
"Now, sir, we need to stitch up the hole in your arm. It won't take long, and then you may wait outside your wife's room. You won't be allowed in, but I'll make sure you receive updates, okay?"
Prussia opened his mouth to argue (he did not make deals; he was too awesome for that), but closed it again when he saw the nurse's face.
His response was a single nod.
"Good." The nurse began stitching up his arm. He looked away. It was totally not because he didn't like needles. Not at all.
As soon as she dabbed some antiseptic cream on the wound and bandaged it, he leapt off the table.
"Vielen dank, Fräulein," he said hurriedly.
She nodded. "Come back in a few days so I can check on it."
He nodded, then sprinted out of the room.
Prussia did, of course, try to get into Hungary's room, but he was stopped by another pair of guards (perhaps it really was time to start working out with West…) and unceremoniously pushed into a chair.
He had problems just sitting there ( he was well within earshot of the room, after all), so as soon as the guards were gone, he leapt back up and started pacing.
Prussia was freaking out- there's not a better word for this.
He should have been there- he should be in that room right now. (Obviously, he had no idea about the birthing process.) What if something went wrong? What would he do then?
If he had to, could he raise a child by himself?
Of course, he had raised Germany, but Germany had been old enough to make his own food when Prussia forgot (which had totally never happened. Ever.).
He tried questioning the nurses who were going in and out of the room, but they ignored him. "Receive updates," his left a-
His line was abruptly halted by a sound.
A baby's wail…
Oh God, he was a father.
He almost started hyperventilating, except that the door opened and a nurse carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle approached him.
"Are you Gilbert Beilschmidt?"
"Ja…"
The nurse smiled. "This is your son." She handed him the bundle. "Careful, he's sleeping."
Prussia took the bundle and looked down at the sleeping baby. A son…
He was so overcome with joy and pride that he had to sit down. He did so gently, not wanting to wake up the baby.
Speaking of which, he was the most awesome, beautiful, adorable baby that ever existed. Soft tufts of brown-ish hair covered his head, and even as a baby, his facial structure was similar to his mother's.
"May I see my wife now?" he asked the nurse.
"Yes, of course. She's resting, though, so you won't be able to stay long."
Prussia entered the room.
Hungary was in a bed, covered by a blanket. At first, she appeared to be asleep, but she opened her eyes when he shut the door.
She looked…tired, but happy.
"Liebe, are you well?"
"I'm fine, Gil." She had a weary smile on her face.
"You're beautiful. And awesome. And so is our son."
Her smile doubled in size.
"I love you, Liza."
"I love you too, Gil."
He kissed her forehead.
The baby woke and started crying. Prussia frowned. Had he done something wrong?
"Here, he's just hungry."
Prussia handed her the crying baby and she began to take care of the problem.
He sat down in the bedside chair. "Liza, I'm sorry about last night. It was really, really un-awesome of me. I should realize zhat you're capable of taking care of yourself and-"
She laughed. "Gilbert, it's okay. I was mad at yo, but you were right; I was just too stubborn to admit it."
His mouth fell open. He was right? That never happened with Hungary. It was like a miracle or something.
"You are awesome."
"I know," she quipped smugly.
He cast a sideways glance at his wife and shook his head. It wasn't worth arguing with her.
After a moment, she spoke up. "Our son will need a name."
Yes, but what land could they give him? Prussia thought. He will need that, too.
Out loud, he said, " Ja. About zhat…I vas thinking zhat a Hungarian name vould suit him…."
"How about Frederick William Beilschmidt?"
Prussia could not breathe for a minute or two. "Are- are you serious?"
"Of course. It's a rather nice name, don't you think?" she asked off-handedly, as if she didn't realize that importance of that name, which, of course, SHE DID.
"It's an awesome name." He could play her game.
"I thought you'd say that. Well, it's settled, then. Why don't you hold Frederick William for a little while?"
She handed the baby back to him. Frederick William looked up at him with unfocused eyes.
Solemnly, Prussia addressed his son. "Frederick William Beilschmidt, you're going to be zhe most awesome kid ever. And I vill personally teach you how to play video games."
He ignored Hungary, who was laughing at him. It was an important skill in this day and age!
A/N: Plot twist: Frederick William doesn't like video games!
And Prussia is so ridiculous.
A quick note about names: Frederick William was the name of several kings/emperors of Prussia. (It's like how all the kings of Denmark are named Christian.) According to my A.P Euro History teacher, Frederick William II was the reason Prussia is "a military BEAST" (her words, not mine). He is also known as "Old Man Fritz."