(no subject)
It was difficult to keep his eyes open.
When exactly he had fallen asleep, he couldn't rightly recall, but one thing he did know for certain was that he was starving. And cold. So very cold. This in spite of all the blankets and comforters piled on top of the bed he was in--which would be in which room? In which house? He couldn't recall just at the moment but as he shakingly pushed is way out of the bed, comforter and blankets tugged around his shoulders as he shivered--he was even wearing long sleeves and pants for Christ's sake--he heard sound.
People were talking. With some "Ve ve~"s and "Ano... eto..."s.
The thought of Italy and Japan being over was a cheering one as he shuffled to the door, blankets and comforters dragging behind him like some pauper's version of a kingly cape. It wasn't until he'd gotten the door open part-way that he could make the voices into any intelligable part of speech.
Suddenly he wished he hadn't.
"--ut they voted against it?"
The weary voice of Germany responded after a moment, possibly where a sigh had been, "The east is still every bit as stubborn as before, and everyone in that area is tired enough of mergers and broken economies. We had no way of knowing what would happen economically if they did vote for it... it would have taken another seven years or so to get it all in order..."
"Ah, but that..." came Italy's voice, unusually quiet and despondant as opposed to his usual jubilient manner.
"... it is unfortunate news to hear, Germany-san," said Japan in a respectable manner, also quiet.
Germany didn't respond for a long moment, but when he did, it sounded muffled. As though he'd put his hands in the way of his mouth when he spoke--a deplorable habit, didn't he used to tell the boy--over-grown man now--that ages ago? "Yes. I'm just. Not sure what more I can do. Others have stopped by. Russia once again offered his solution--but I could never. Not again. Not after all those years. He would have rathered died--"
That line of thinking was cut off by Italy's interruption of, "We wouldn't let him! Right, Germany? With at least a few of us who do care--"
"Poland raised such hell over it," continued Germany, undeterred. "I can understand because of their history, but considering the war--that war--making into his--him to be blamed--"
"Germany--"
"Germany-san," broke in Japan, speaking over Italy, quiet yet firm, showing his age more than he normally would have, "you have done what you can to make amends and you continue to do so. Just as he has been punished for crimes throughout his life and career. Even if he is not meant to survive this, I believe he will."
There was a long moment of silence.
Then, even quieter than the Japanese man, Germany said, "... yes. Thank you."
--what a bunch of saps.
He had no idea what they were going on about but enough was enough and he was hungry, damn it. And thirsty. And--God, when was the last time he'd bathed. He felt disgusting and gross and his back hurt from laying down for who know how long--
shock of the cold and of the stench of the filth that began to make itself known to his senses blurred and muzzled his sight, his thoughts pain registered itself all along his back throbbed and pulsed almost as his heart should have but didn't bare, pained, throbbing, fiery hot open and sore and something hot leaking out of them the same way it was from his head--
His legs buckled and he stumbled forward, catching himself on the doorframe, the door swinging loudly open with a bang against the wall.
... what was that? he wondered, eyes wide and hand to his head where he could have sworn there had been blood. When--no. He knew when. But why? And why so strongly? And--God, his back... his back was so sore, all in knots, on fire--he wanted to scream but everything was quiet. So quiet.
And then there was a stampeded from around the corner and suddenly everything was bright--too bright. What the hell--?
"Bruder?"
He squinted past the hand he'd lifted to shield his eyes, trying to make out Germany's face but could only recognize the silhouettes of his younger brother and his two friends. His mouth was suddenly dry. Parched. He struggled to get some saliva to wet his tongue enough so that he could speak before Germany could get any closer, and finally managed a disappointedly raspy, weak, and shaky, "West... bright--hurts."
That seemed to make the three nations pause, and possibly on silent commands, go about with dimming the lights--holy shit had that really been the lightbulbs sheering into his eyes like an atomic blast?--and going to the nearest place with water--guess he sounded even worse than he'd thought. Germany remained behind, directly beside him and crouching down to worriedly look him in the eyes--since when did he end up on the ground? All tangled in the blankets and comforters, no less.
Well, whatever had happened, one thing he knew for certain was that his baby's brother's broader, strong hand was warm. So very very warm against his face right then.
He leaned into it with little thought, closing his eyes, suddenly exhausted.
Just what was going on here?
"Bruder. Bruder, please. Stay awake for me," was the plea from Germany, voice suddenly a wreck. Like he'd been crying or something--what a pansy. Picked that up from spending too much time around Austria, that's what it was.
Still, that one heartstring that had always belonged to his little brother was strung and had him responding, "M'not asleep. Been sleepin' too long, 'nyway."
So he said, but he kept his eyes shut--even with the lights dimmed, they burned into his eyes and made him feel sick. And cold. The chill that he'd felt when he'd first woken suddenly making its presence known, shaking him to the core--maybe it was because he could tell the difference between temperatures again. Germany being so warm. Large and warm, the complete opposite--
Opposite?
He jerked upright--or attempted to but was stopped by that warm hand on his chest--gasping and struggling to remember if he'd actually fallen asleep. If he had, it couldn't have been for more than two seconds, because that tap was still running and Italy was running around the house following some shouted order that was still ringing in the air. Germany was turning back to face him, eyes hooded and haunted and frightened--cornflower color darkening to a mirkier color that reminded him of those times in the larger nation's youth when he'd have a nightmare and would climb into his bed. Those times he'd tell him stories about his own youth.
He felt himself grinning, though after that glimpse of blue, his eyes slipped shut again--he struggled to keep them open. "H' West..."
One of those large hands went to the back of his neck and then there was a warm kiss placed on his forehead. "Hey yourself, Bruder," said Germany, winded but mightily relieved for some insane reason. He should know better than to worry really.
"S'Ita n' Jap'n here?" he asked, words slurring together as he worked to get some moisture into his mouth. Where the hell was Japan with that water, anyway? Taking too damn long...
"They're here. Just getting a few things." Well, that was a relief, then. But Germany's voice didn't seem to make it out that way, suddenly shaking as his hand moved around his face--oooh, that was such a nice feeling. So very warm. "You're freezing. Even still..."
"Ja," he said tiredly, leaning his head more against that hand. "Fuckin' freezin'. S'like that."
"We need to warm you up, all right?"
He hummed. That did sound like a nice idea, even though he was shivering like crazy. If he remembered right, shivering was a good thing. He hadn't been shivering before, had he? That was bad. Well, no wonder Germany was freaking out, but when on earth had he gotten a case of hypothermia? He hadn't experienced something like that since--
ice groaned and that was the only warning they had. it split, torn, fell apart, dragging the men and their beasts down, down, down into the dark depths. it was freezing, even he'd almost been taken under the water and there. there had been that figure behind the child who laughed and laughed and laughed--
He groaned suddenly, falling against his brother and shuddering harder. Suddenly the blankets were tight around him and he was moving--without walking? Oh, Germany was carrying him--now when did he start to do that? Either way, he found himself basking in the warm body heat from his brother much like one of those desert lizards and their sun rocks. Bathing in that light--and that's what it felt like really. Coming home, a beacon, a sun.
--and then quite suddenly, it wasn't that peaceful. It was cold. So very cold and he was on his feet, but behind supported from behind by his brother while Japan took the blankets and comfortes--Jesus did they stink. Terrible stench that made his nose wrinkle in distaste. He'd used to be known for his impeccable attention to detail and despite what people might have said about his cleanliness, he did keep himself well-groomed. But that was fine if they were going to be washed. He'd still want them back later. It was really fucking cold.
"West, d'nt man-handle," he muttered while his brother positioned him on the side of the tub where there suddenly was little Italy--he used to look so adorable in those little dresses, though Hungary'd only caused more trouble making everyone think he was a girl--supporting him, talking at him and telling him about how things were back home, oh and his brother. He and Spain were really starting to get along--maybe. All this going on while Germany stripped.
He really couldn't help it. He gave a wolf whistle. Or had tried to--suddenly his mouth seemed a lot less dry--Japan must have done some epic ninja thing and got him his water without his ever knowing. "F'ya wanna be 'lone with Italy..." he said to his brother whose face went very very red.
Italy was just delighted, hugging onto him. "See, Germany? See? He's getting better, isn't he?"
Now that was just absurd. He was always the best. Everyone knew that.
He just rolled his eyes again as his brother came over--in his underwear. Now that wasn't fair. Here he was naked and Germany got to keep his underwear. He whined about this but was ignored and manhandled into the bath--
He cried out in shock at how hot it was.
"Bruder. Bruder, it's okay. It's okay. It barely lukewarm."
He decided right then and there was Germany was out of his goddamn mind. There was no way in hell the water could possibly be that cool--and yet, the lights had been so bright, sheering into his eyes, burning. And now this, too. Burning him. Like he had new skin that was relearning what it could and could not stand. And he almost could not stand this. Germany had a good grip on him as he carefully lowered both himself and his brother into the water.
He began to whimper around when the water reached his waist and bit his lip to keep from crying out again as the water that felt boiling to his sensitive skin slowly crept up to his chest. He was shaking and his eyes were burning--gritty tears being prevented from falling as he kept them tightly shut. Germany kept up his quiet, soothing vocals from behind him. But he might as well have stopped trying because now his brother was just crying as he realized that he hadn't thought the water was boiling.
It was that he'd thought the water was going to be that freezing, bitter and dark water that had engulfed him once before.
But Germany was there with him. Holding onto him and keeping him afloat.
There was no laughing child--man--bitterly cold and frozen smile and eyes staring down at him, beckoning him away to some place darker and colder than where his knights had sunken.
When he was able to think coherently once more, he realized that he was once again clothed--all warm clothes, layered with sleeves handing off of his hands, covering them and pantlegs covering his heels. What wasn't covered by his clothes had the blankets and comforters to keep the warmth in. He was on a couch with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, keeping his fingertips and face warm as he stared into the mug.
He blinked, realizing how silent it was and looked over to his left to see Italy watching him worriedly.
Blinking again, he looked to his right and saw his brother watching him quietly, letting him take in everything around him.
Japan was sitting in a chair opposite of the couch, but he too seemed to be waiting for some response from then enshrouded German.
What the hell?
"--guten Morgen," he muttered, eyes back on his mug of chocolate.
A sound of stifled laughter came from his left, while a tolerant and fond sound came from his right. "It's the middle of the night, Bruder. And you've been awake since this afternoon."
"... oh," he said smartly, brow furrowing as he tried to remember. "... did I at least have a nap? I could totally restart if I had a nap."
"Just a short one, shortly after the bath," confirmed Germany, voice maintaining a soft and quiet tone. Soothing. Warm.
"Mmm," he hummed, taking a sip from his chocolate. It scorched the tip of his tongue and he would have dropped it if Italy hadn't immediately put his hand on the bottom of the mug. He pulled a face at the hot beverage before looking over to Germany. "How long was I asleep for?"
Now came the silence.
It was very apparent that this was the question the three of them had wanted to avoid for some time.
He gave a bit of a laugh, discomforted. "H-hey. It's not like it hasn't happened to me before. After the War, remember? I was out for more than two years--"
"Seven," whispered Germany.
--he felt Italy take the mug out of his hands just as his fingers went numb. Not just his fingers but his everything. He suddenly felt not only cold but hollow. "... but. Reunification," he objected weakly. "I had to have been around for that. Signing the papers--"
"It wasn't all straight," interrupted his brother, voice still quiet. "Not until after the unification. Before that... we were able to wake you. It would take ages... and then after that meeting--do you not remember it, Bruder?"
He silently shook his head at the same time he searched his memory in vain for some kind of recollection. "Did I have my journal with me?" he asked instead.
"If you did, it would be with the rest of your things."
It took a moment for this to sink in for some reason. Then, he nodded. It felt very mechanical and he shivered, pulling the blankets tighter around himself and over his head, curling into the couch more. "Then," he started quietly, "the person you were talking about earlier, when I first woke up today..."
None of them said a thing. Not a damn thing.
He felt tears sting at his eyes again for a moment but stubbornly kept them at bay. "You tried to work some legislature to help me?"
"... it failed. The people--"
He snorted derisively. "People. Those people," he muttered bitterly. Then, he winced and frowned, realizing how pathetic that had sounded. "You should have known better, West. That wouldn't have worked at all."
"I know," said Germany tiredly. "But I had to try something. It was the govenor and mayor's idea. They thought of it and I... I thought it might be something more than..."
When there was no continuation, he looked sideways at his brother, "Than what?"
"Than what Russia had offered."
He shut his eyes, pulling the blankets just a bit closer to himself.
He could feel Italy pressing against his side, knew that the other nation was beyond concerned. After all, he had known all about his plans. Since the time he had introduced his brother to the Italian... it would have come to this. But still, they all had to be wondering the same thing, right?
"Why... am I here, if I'm supposed to be dead?"
"It's odd, isn't it? Say, what should I call you now, Dead Prussia?"
"... so why am I still here?"