Contest entry: Oneshot: On the Steps
Title: On the Steps
Rating: PG-13, since a few swear words did slip in.
Genre: General?
Prompt(s)/Theme(s): The Spider and the Fly
Characters/Pairings: Prussia and Russia, with some Russ/Pruss for the pairing.
Summary: Russia finds Prussia sitting on his doorstep. Again.
Words: 1,382
I walked outside this morning to see the same thing that I had been seeing roughly twice a week for nearly a month. "I know that you hate me. So why is it that you keep showing up on my doorstep?"
Gilbert briefly glanced up at me from his perch on my front steps, then continued staring out into the street. "You don't get it, do you?" As was to be expected, he wasn't in any mood for talk. I wasn't going to get much more than grouchy grunts from him.
His sentence intrigued me. I had to admit that I didn't really understand why he kept coming by. "What is there to get?"
This time, he looked at me for a bit longer. "I come here when I want to die, Ivan," he growled. "Then you show up, talk me back to my senses, and I go home."
I pointed out my success rate when it came to talking him out of his little spells. "Okay, so you're right about that,” he grumbled in reply. “What about it?"
I took that concession as a point in my favor. "It sounds to me like you like these little talks, Gilbert!" It made sense to me. Every time I spoke to him, I was encouraging him to keep going as he always had. He was looking for a nudge in the right direction, and I was giving it to him.
Of course, he emphatically denied it. "No! It's just that you're the only one other than my brother who gives a damn about me!"
The confession hung in the air and took a comfortable seat inside the lengthy silence that followed. He was admitting that, despite how much he hated me, some deep corner of his soul trusted me. Even if I was his "enemy," I had been with him long enough to know a bit more about him than any of his "friends," and he acknowledged that.
At last, I took a seat on the step beside him. As I expected, he scooted away from me. "I don't know, Gilbert. It seems like you are beginning to like me back, or you've gathered enough respect to at least tolerate me." That subtle admission of trust was still echoing in my head.
"Never. I only come around here because I think you'll kill me, and you don't," he said, folding his arms. He was back on his easiest train of thought, the one most likely to cover his true feelings.
"Fine. So you hate me and you'll never forgive me for what I helped to do to you," I replied, following his scoot to get a bit closer to him. "But won't you at least admit that you're a little happy that I talk you out of wanting to die?" I knew his answer already, but I wanted him to say it out loud.
Finally, he confirmed my conclusions. "I guess so." He stopped staring into the street and turned his head to look as far away from me as possible. I suspected that he was trying to hide something on his face. "I guess I am... thankful for your offers to try and help me get back up on my feet, but I will never like you or respect you. Ever."
"Fair enough." I never expected him to suddenly become friendly towards me simply because I was helping him out. All I wanted was confirmation that my efforts were picking him up, and I got it. All that was left to do was to address the problem at the root of this whole incident. "How are you feeling right now? Do you still feel like dying?"
I couldn't tell if the noise he made was a derisive snort or a very odd sniffle. "Actually, I feel better." He still didn't turn to face me.
"I'm glad to hear that. I think you're breaking out of your web," I said to him, remembering how I'd thought of him as being the fly that kept nosediving into my web.
Understandably, he was baffled by my response. "I'm what?"
"Let's pretend you are a fly, Gilbert. You keep flying into the same spider web over and over. In other words, you keep getting stuck in the same cycles and habits,” I explained, tracing the “fly’s” path in the air with my finger. “You're letting yourself break down because it's easier for you to do than dodging the web and accepting what has happened, but I think you're slowly getting your strength back, even it it's not in the way you expected."
He nodded. "Sounds about right." Resting his chin on his hand, he continued, "It's sad, isn't it? The only person vaguely resembling a friend I've got other than my brother is the guy who beat the shit out of me for decades."
I moved a bit closer to him and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. I was surprised that he didn't jump away like he normally did. "People change, Gilbert, people change. You break one web, and fly into a new one."
"I'm just going to pick a more awesome web, then." His voice had a resolute quality to it that I hadn't heard in far too long. At last, he looked at me, and his sly smirk was back, too. Oh, how I had missed it! "I get it now. I think I forgot how it felt to be like I used to be after that case of the blues." He clenched his fists, completely determined to fight off whatever was dragging him down. That kind of tenacity was what drew my attention to him in the first place.
That was one thing he needed to remember above all else, so I decided to help him. "Remember how, no matter what I put you through, no matter how close you came to losing everything, you never broke. All you needed was your iron will. Is it really so hard to call it back up?" Gilbert shook his head. "It shouldn't be, especially not for you."
"It shouldn't be," he agreed. At that moment, he straightened up and looked me dead in the eye, and I began to see echoes of that soldier who never let any inconvenience truly set him back. “I’m going to try and be more like my old self. As long as I don’t forget who I am, I’ll be good to go.” He made a declaration in a voice so strong that I knew he was on his way back up. “I am Gilbert Beilschmidt, and nothing can take my will to fight away from me. Nothing.”
"I'm glad that you've finally found that inside yourself again." I never liked having to weaken Gilbert in order to make him obey me, and I despised how his grief had withered him further. To see his old strength coming back made me ecstatic in ways I can't even describe. "I assume that, if you ever feel your will burning out, you'll be coming back here so I can pick you back up?" At this point, I realized that I was basically asking him if he would return to my web, even after telling him to find a new one.
“Don’t twist my words around. I still hate your guts, and I'd rather not come here unless I have to.” he growled. I knew better than to expect a thank you from him. He stood up, his fists still clenched, like he was ready for an oncoming fight, and went back to looking out into the street. "I'll let you have this little victory. I really do feel better now that I know what I need to do to pick myself back up."
I tried to stop him from walking away. "If you need help again, just come back here, okay?" I called after him, but all he did was look at me, and then he kept walking.
I was a bit worried about him at first, but after hearing the resolution in his voice, I felt confident that I wouldn't be finding him on my doorstep for a little while. He will fly free again, and I'll be quite happy to see him do so.
Rating: PG-13, since a few swear words did slip in.
Genre: General?
Prompt(s)/Theme(s): The Spider and the Fly
Characters/Pairings: Prussia and Russia, with some Russ/Pruss for the pairing.
Summary: Russia finds Prussia sitting on his doorstep. Again.
Words: 1,382
I walked outside this morning to see the same thing that I had been seeing roughly twice a week for nearly a month. "I know that you hate me. So why is it that you keep showing up on my doorstep?"
Gilbert briefly glanced up at me from his perch on my front steps, then continued staring out into the street. "You don't get it, do you?" As was to be expected, he wasn't in any mood for talk. I wasn't going to get much more than grouchy grunts from him.
His sentence intrigued me. I had to admit that I didn't really understand why he kept coming by. "What is there to get?"
This time, he looked at me for a bit longer. "I come here when I want to die, Ivan," he growled. "Then you show up, talk me back to my senses, and I go home."
I pointed out my success rate when it came to talking him out of his little spells. "Okay, so you're right about that,” he grumbled in reply. “What about it?"
I took that concession as a point in my favor. "It sounds to me like you like these little talks, Gilbert!" It made sense to me. Every time I spoke to him, I was encouraging him to keep going as he always had. He was looking for a nudge in the right direction, and I was giving it to him.
Of course, he emphatically denied it. "No! It's just that you're the only one other than my brother who gives a damn about me!"
The confession hung in the air and took a comfortable seat inside the lengthy silence that followed. He was admitting that, despite how much he hated me, some deep corner of his soul trusted me. Even if I was his "enemy," I had been with him long enough to know a bit more about him than any of his "friends," and he acknowledged that.
At last, I took a seat on the step beside him. As I expected, he scooted away from me. "I don't know, Gilbert. It seems like you are beginning to like me back, or you've gathered enough respect to at least tolerate me." That subtle admission of trust was still echoing in my head.
"Never. I only come around here because I think you'll kill me, and you don't," he said, folding his arms. He was back on his easiest train of thought, the one most likely to cover his true feelings.
"Fine. So you hate me and you'll never forgive me for what I helped to do to you," I replied, following his scoot to get a bit closer to him. "But won't you at least admit that you're a little happy that I talk you out of wanting to die?" I knew his answer already, but I wanted him to say it out loud.
Finally, he confirmed my conclusions. "I guess so." He stopped staring into the street and turned his head to look as far away from me as possible. I suspected that he was trying to hide something on his face. "I guess I am... thankful for your offers to try and help me get back up on my feet, but I will never like you or respect you. Ever."
"Fair enough." I never expected him to suddenly become friendly towards me simply because I was helping him out. All I wanted was confirmation that my efforts were picking him up, and I got it. All that was left to do was to address the problem at the root of this whole incident. "How are you feeling right now? Do you still feel like dying?"
I couldn't tell if the noise he made was a derisive snort or a very odd sniffle. "Actually, I feel better." He still didn't turn to face me.
"I'm glad to hear that. I think you're breaking out of your web," I said to him, remembering how I'd thought of him as being the fly that kept nosediving into my web.
Understandably, he was baffled by my response. "I'm what?"
"Let's pretend you are a fly, Gilbert. You keep flying into the same spider web over and over. In other words, you keep getting stuck in the same cycles and habits,” I explained, tracing the “fly’s” path in the air with my finger. “You're letting yourself break down because it's easier for you to do than dodging the web and accepting what has happened, but I think you're slowly getting your strength back, even it it's not in the way you expected."
He nodded. "Sounds about right." Resting his chin on his hand, he continued, "It's sad, isn't it? The only person vaguely resembling a friend I've got other than my brother is the guy who beat the shit out of me for decades."
I moved a bit closer to him and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. I was surprised that he didn't jump away like he normally did. "People change, Gilbert, people change. You break one web, and fly into a new one."
"I'm just going to pick a more awesome web, then." His voice had a resolute quality to it that I hadn't heard in far too long. At last, he looked at me, and his sly smirk was back, too. Oh, how I had missed it! "I get it now. I think I forgot how it felt to be like I used to be after that case of the blues." He clenched his fists, completely determined to fight off whatever was dragging him down. That kind of tenacity was what drew my attention to him in the first place.
That was one thing he needed to remember above all else, so I decided to help him. "Remember how, no matter what I put you through, no matter how close you came to losing everything, you never broke. All you needed was your iron will. Is it really so hard to call it back up?" Gilbert shook his head. "It shouldn't be, especially not for you."
"It shouldn't be," he agreed. At that moment, he straightened up and looked me dead in the eye, and I began to see echoes of that soldier who never let any inconvenience truly set him back. “I’m going to try and be more like my old self. As long as I don’t forget who I am, I’ll be good to go.” He made a declaration in a voice so strong that I knew he was on his way back up. “I am Gilbert Beilschmidt, and nothing can take my will to fight away from me. Nothing.”
"I'm glad that you've finally found that inside yourself again." I never liked having to weaken Gilbert in order to make him obey me, and I despised how his grief had withered him further. To see his old strength coming back made me ecstatic in ways I can't even describe. "I assume that, if you ever feel your will burning out, you'll be coming back here so I can pick you back up?" At this point, I realized that I was basically asking him if he would return to my web, even after telling him to find a new one.
“Don’t twist my words around. I still hate your guts, and I'd rather not come here unless I have to.” he growled. I knew better than to expect a thank you from him. He stood up, his fists still clenched, like he was ready for an oncoming fight, and went back to looking out into the street. "I'll let you have this little victory. I really do feel better now that I know what I need to do to pick myself back up."
I tried to stop him from walking away. "If you need help again, just come back here, okay?" I called after him, but all he did was look at me, and then he kept walking.
I was a bit worried about him at first, but after hearing the resolution in his voice, I felt confident that I wouldn't be finding him on my doorstep for a little while. He will fly free again, and I'll be quite happy to see him do so.