34 - Best In Show

Sep 27, 2009 13:36

Title: Best In Show
Characters: America, Russia, Germany, Prussia
Rating: PG-13
Summary: 1949 - Russia takes a walk in the park with his newest acquisition. Unfortunately, America is already there, Germany in tow. They meet; pettiness ensues. Narrated by Prussia.

TCE is co-written by wizzard890 and pyrrhiccomedy.

---

Berlin. May, 1949.

Prussia always prided himself on not being half as willing to bend over and grab his ankles as the rest of Europe. It wasn't a matter of arrogance, it was a matter of Jesus Christ, things weren't ever as dire as people liked to think.

Which was why there had to be some way to fight back as he walked through the half-restored remains of a bombed-out park with Russia's hand curled heavy around his bicep, fucking steering him. He was just having a hell of a time figuring out what it was.

"Pull a little harder, why don't you," he snapped, as Russia led them towards the foot bridge. Ducks clamored in the pond below them.

Russia gave him a serene smile, and loosened his grip. "If you're uncomfortable, Prussia, all you have to do is say so."

Prussia snorted on a laugh. "Yeah, well, I say so. Hands off." He jerked his arm away. "I can still fucking walk by myself."

That was about it, honestly.

It was a nice spring day, if you were into shit like that. The park milled with the quiet sounds of families out enjoying not getting bombed into powder. There were dogs, kids, and guys who looked a lot like Prussia, dirty and underweight and gleaming with resentment. Those were the guys from his side of the city. They weren't hard to spot.

As they crossed the foot bridge, he couldn't say he was completely fuckin' astonished to see America and Germany on the path below them, feeding ducks; feeding ducks, he couldn't make this shit up if he tried. They passed back and forth a loaf of bread and chatted inaudibly to each other.

He saw Russia's smile sharpen into a grin out of the corner of his eye. Here we fucking go.

"Can you afford to waste bread like that, America?"

America and Germany looked up. Germany stiffened, pushed off the railing he was leaning against, and turned up to face him. Technically, Prussia wasn't supposed to talk to his brother anymore, and normally he wouldn't give a shit about that, but they were on a bridge, and he wouldn't put it past Russia to shove him off it and into the scummy water just for a measly 'hey, how's it taste on your half of this shit sandwich'--so Germany didn't say anything, and Prussia didn't, either.

America's eyes had gone wide. "Can't you?" he asked.

The picture of fuckin' innocence did not look as innocent as America.

"That's not what I asked." Russia reached in his pocket, and took out a pack of cigarettes, flipped open the paper lid. He didn't look away from America as he tapped one out.

"Sure, Russia." America held the loaf out without looking, and Germany accepted it. He held it awkwardly, like a bundle of roses. "It's just bread."

"I'm glad to hear it." A click of a lighter.

Prussia reached over and helped himself to a cigarette from the pack in Russia's hand. Russia shot him a poisonous look, and Prussia grinned. "Easy, big guy."

There was a short pause and then, god damn it, Russia's arm slid easily around his waist.

If anything, America stiffened up worse than Germany. Prussia figured that was maybe pretty interesting, with the part of him that wasn't thinking GET your fucking HAND off me or I'll elbow you in the fucking face.

"Well, you two sure have gotten cozy," America snarled.

"America..." Germany spoke softly.

"What?" America snapped. Germany looked at him for a second, then shook his head a little. Prussia read, Nevermind.

Then he went back and edited America's What into Shut up, Germany, real nations are talking.

Russia's fingers curled into his hip, and shit, that hurt. Another click, and Russia lit his cigarette, too. "Oh, we have," he replied.

Prussia concentrated on not gagging.

America trudged up the path towards them, and Prussia had started to wonder how long he was going to be able to deal with looking up at Russia. After a few seconds, Germany set the loaf of bread on the ground and followed them. A few ducks ambled up onto land in their wake to investigate it.

"Yeah, I guess rigged elections really have a way of bringing people together," America drawled, when he and Germany drew even with them.

"I could be very hurt by that, you know," Russia replied, taking a lazy drag on his cigarette. "Prussia's people have let themselves be heard. They're being led by exactly the kind of men they need. Isn't that right?"

Prussia inhaled until his lungs burned, but self-preservation kicked in just before he could blow it in Russia's face. "Oh, for sure."

Russia traced a soft line into the curve of his side. "Good boy," he murmured. Then, slightly louder: "You see? I wouldn't trot him out to show him off if I didn't have confidence in him."

"Trot him out?" America repeated. Germany's expression didn't change. "He's not a fucking labrador. He's a country. --And what've you got to show off, anyway?"

"Hey, thanks a lot," Prussia marveled. "I'm standin' right here." He jammed his elbow between his side and Russia's to give himself a few inches of space, and took a drag. Russia's arm locked around him.

America ignored him. "Germany's been rebuilding. He's got a new constitution, a new legislature--an actually elected legislature--and his economy's totally on its way up. Things are a lot better now, right, Germany?"

There was a little pause. "Yes," Germany provided. Prussia tried to meet his eyes, but Germany wouldn't let him. He watched his brother look back down towards the ducks. "There has been a great deal of improvement since the end of the war."

America raised expectant eyebrows at Russia and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Russia held his gaze and gave him a lopsided smile. "Then that gives us both something to be proud about, doesn't it?" He moved closer, dragged Prussia with him. Flower petals sighed away underfoot. "But that's not good enough for you. It never is. You have to win."

"Who are we talking about, now?" America wondered. "Me or you?" He twitched his hand at his side, and Germany stepped forward to stand beside him.

Like a well-trained dog, Prussia realized. Heel. And Germany obeyed. He scowled at him.

Germany minutely shook his head. "We lost," he murmured. Those were the first words exchanged between them.

Prussia dug in his heels, made Russia haul him forward, just because he could.

"That's right, you did." Russia smirked. Germany's eyes were fixed somewhere on Prussia's chest. They didn't move at the sound of Russia's voice-- wouldn't move. "You stood on the edge of annihilation, both of you, until your little group of egocentric madmen had the decency to fall apart. And now you have us offering you our hands, pulling you out of the dregs of your failure, when you're not worth a tenth of the resources we pour into you." He barked out a harsh laugh and cast a glance at Prussia. "You're lucky I don't kill the two of you right here."

America took a step forward--out in front of Germany. It didn't even look calculated. That kind of clear, fearless look needed a sword and a white horse to go with them. Prussia jammed his elbow into Russia's hand, this time, digging into his ribs. "We can cuddle later, honeypot," he muttered.

"Germany is under my protection," America said.

Be still my heart, Prussia thought. He couldn't even enjoy his cigarette like this.

Russia released him, flicked his own cigarette to the ground. He didn't move to stand in front of his property, but the body language was the same. Prussia barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jesus fuck, he hadn't seen a pissing contest like this in ages.

"I'm sure you'd just die for him," Russia sneered.

"Oh, I bet you'd love to see that," America shot back.

"Absolutely." Russia closed the space between them, left Prussia behind. He was close enough to touch America; he wouldn't even have to reach. Prussia wondered if they were going to fight. Smart money was probably on the kid: he had principles to uphold.

"Yeah, well, I'm not like you." America's fists were clenched, his neck was taut; that 'absolutely' had made him angry. It was kind of fascinating. Prussia leaned back against the railing to watch the show. "I don't think of my allies as just a bunch of warm bodies to throw in front of an invasion."

Russia arched an eyebrow. "Not like me?" That was a fucking sing-song. "Don't tell me you wouldn't love to take that gun out and shoot me, right now." He patted America's side over the bulge of his holster, let his hand linger. "Just press the muzzle right here," He slid his index finger under his jaw. "And spray my brains all over this bridge..." A grin. "I don't think so."

America straightened an inch and said clearly, "No, Russia, I wouldn't."

Prussia grinned at Germany around his cigarette and jerked his head at the pair of them. Get a load of these little girls.

Something flinched around Russia's mouth. His fingers twitched at the tails of his scarf. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Just because you dumped me doesn't mean I want you dead," America snapped. A flush rose in his face.

Germany snapped his eyes shut. Prussia whistled.

Russia's gaze raked over the color spreading over America's cheekbones, and he tipped his head to the side, like one of Germany's dogs. The bastard wanted nothing more than to be scratched behind the ears, didn't he? Prussia propped an elbow against the railing. Fuck, this was more pathetic than he'd thought.

"Then what the hell do you want?" Russia snarled.

"I just wanted to feed some fucking ducks." America said it so it sounded like a snappy comeback, until Prussia thought about it for a second, and realized it was a ridiculous thing to say. "It had been a long day, and--What are you even doing here?"

"Yeah, what are we doing here?" Prussia started. Russia had just thrown him his coat and informed him that they were 'going for a walk.'

Russia's glassy, innocent smile slid back in place, and he shrugged. "I just thought Prussia could use the exercise."

Prussia snorted and stubbed his cigarette out on the bridge's fresh paint job. That son of a bitch was going to get him a collar any day now.

America's eyes narrowed. "Did you know we would be here? Do you have somebody following me?"

"As hard as it may be to believe, I sometimes do things that have nothing whatsoever to do with you." It wasn't an answer, and they all knew it.

"Whatever." America brushed Russia off; the backs of his fingers grazed the front of Russia's coat, and Prussia caught something, a deliberate blankness, go through Russia's eyes. "You can even turn a sunny day bleak as fuck. Germany, are you ready to go?"

"Yes," said Germany.

What else was he gonna say?

Russia's fingers curled into the collar of Prussia's coat, and he jerked him upright. His hand dropped to the small of his back--and fuck, Prussia never noticed how huge his fucking hands were. It spanned the gap between his goddamn kidneys--and shepherded him past America and Germany.

Prussia's shoulder nudged his brother's as they walked by. Germany caught his wrist, squeezed his hand, unseen by both their masters.

"It was a pretty nice day, too," Prussia heard America comment.

"It still is." Germany's voice betrayed nothing.

He always could be counted on for that.

Prussia shoved his hands deep into his pockets and didn't even bother to wait until they were out of earshot. "Thanks for a terrific afternoon, boss. Feel free to drag me into your fights with your ex whenever the hell you feel like it." He swatted a low-hanging branch out of his way.

Russia didn't respond. He didn't even look over. He just tapped out another cigarette.

+++

--The West German constitution, the Grundgesetz (Basic Law) was ratified in the spring of 1949. It was, however, only a short term document; it specified that it was designed only for temporary use until a constitution had been freely adopted by the German people as a whole. By the terms of the Basic Law, the Federal Republic of Germany was established with its provisional capital in the small city of Bonn. The West German state took shape as a federal form of parliamentary democracy. An extensive bill of rights guaranteed the civil and political freedoms of the citizenry.

--When it became clear that a West German government would be established, a so-called election for a People’s Congress was held in the Soviet occupation zone in May 1949. But instead of choosing among candidates, voters were allowed only the choice of approving or rejecting-usually in less-than-secret circumstances-“unity lists” of candidates drawn from all parties.By ensuring that communists predominated in these unity lists, the SED determined in advance the composition of the new People’s Congress. According to the official results, about two-thirds of the voters approved the unity lists. In subsequent elections, favourable margins in excess of 99 percent were routinely announced.

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This is a chapter from The Chosen End, a Russia/America collaboration spanning from 1780 to the present day. You can read all of the fics in this story at the Index.

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