A/N- Sorry it's been so long! Nobody's said anything yet, but I'm just gonna put it out there now- this isn't meant to be historically accurate. Of course I'm trying to make sure I've got dates and stuff right, but if they're not, I apologize in advance.

Stefan drags me to the bar and orders two beers, then turns to me.

"Okay, so, I've been looking for you forever!"

"You... excuse me?" I spit. How annoying!

He tucks a strand of golden hair behind his ear. He vaguely looks like West, but less muscular- he's more on the lean, slender side. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fit, German stereotype. Err, excuse me, I guess it's Prussian stereotype now. It bothers me a lot that he looks like West.

"Eh, well, Russia sort of roughed up my face... it's gone, though, mostly"- I notice a faint bruise across his cheek- "but then I heard you had left for the Meeting in Japan. By the time I got there, though, you were back here! You've caused me quite a bit of trouble- oh, and money."

"I hope you're not expecting it back, then," I say calmly, taking a sip of beer. "'Cause you're not going to get it back."

"Ha, fine. Enough small talk." Stefan gulps down some of his drink and looks at me with his blue eyes, making me only think of West, making me hate him even more. "So can I be your boss?"

"Nein," I say. "You will cause trouble. You will be a pain in the ass for everyone. Besides, bosses are usually old and have mustaches and beards and stuff."

Stefan laughs. "Ja? Sounds like you need a break from old men."

Just the way he talks annoys me. I shake my head. "Get lost, kid. Go find yourself a part-time job, go to college or something." I know he's old enough probably to be a college grad, or maybe a university student, but trying to insult him is fun. Unfortunately it doesn't work.

"Been there, done that," he says. "Really, Prussia. Fire your old boss?"

"I said, get lost." I stand up. "You better pay for these drinks, yeah? I'm going home. And Stefan?"

"Ja?"

"You ever come around my house..." I laugh. "Well, Russia's got Mr. Pipe."

"Uh... what?"

I know he doesn't get it. If he came from my world, he would. I shake my head, still laughing. "Nothing."

I open the door to my house. Russia sits on the couch, looking sad.

"Prussia? Oh, hello"-

I cut him off. "Russia, just tell me what you were planning to do. What Belarus said? Or what? Because I just was with Stefan, and let me tell you."

"Don't talk to him."

"Shut up!" I growl. "You're the one who lied about attacking me when-"

"Ich liebe dich."

"-I was only just - wait, what?" Something makes me stop. Maybe it's because Russia just talked in German. Maybe because what he was saying in German means I love you.

Okay, Prussia, calm down. Maybe you heard him wrong...

Russia laughs. "Go on."

"Nein, nein, what were you saying? Um, you, you..."

Russia stands up and wraps me in a hug. "I would never hurt you."

I tense.

West, are you watching me? Do you hate me?

I shove him away. "What the hell are you doing?"

Russia tilts his head. "What do you mean? I am showing affection, da?"

"No, I mean, you were going to attack me. This isn't what you should be saying to someone you're about to destroy. That is really not awesome."

"Maybe. Something my boss forced me to do. Which is why I was so upset when you found out." He smiles his little kid smile. "I love you so much."

"Ah- if you'll excuse me," I whisper, thanking everything I have that America and Hungary are asleep.

"Prussia, are you mad at me?" Russia asks, his eyebrows raised in concern. He looks like a puppy that just got its treat stolen.

"No- no just let me sleep." I walk away from him, up the stairs, and when I come to my bedroom, I see a note on my door. Hungary's handwriting.

Hey, Prussia! Sorry about earlier.
Just so you know, America and I went out to grab some coffee and beer and whatever it is America drinks.
Hopefully all will be well when we get back. Also there was a book or something you left- it's on your bed.

So they weren't here after all. I switch the lights on and glance at my bed. The History textbook is lying there, a sheet of paper sticking out of it.

I flip it open. Hungary's handwriting again. But didn't she leave her note on the door? I guess she wrote me two. I read it over.

You told me once you really liked me.

So, Prussia, Russia wanted me to talk to you earlier when we were all having that argument.
Now I'm saying something: just how much do you really "love" Ukraine?

Oh shit. This is not good. There are too many problems here. War, backstabbing, weird love confessions, accusations, and this is just with the nations I'm associated with at the moment. What did I do to Ukraine?

Nervously, I pick up my phone. It rings three times, and I worry nobody will answer. But someone does.

"Allo?"

"Ukraine? It's Prussia. I think we need to talk."