Let war be waged 8
“I feel uncomfortable with this,” Greece said.
“Sorry,” Serbia said. France and England had pretty much dragged him kicking and screaming into the war. Yet Greece didn't take it out on him as he could have, Greece had done his best to patch him up and at this point he felt ready to try to go after whoever France wanted him to. “But I really look forward to this meeting. I want to do something. I need to do something before thinking of all this shit drives me insane.”
“Be careful,” Greece said. “France uses people. Always.”
“When did you get this cynical?”
Greece smiled distantly.
“I always been. Haven't you noticed?”
The second reason Serbia looked forward to the allied meeting was how much he missed his big brother.
“Russia!”
Serbia tried to not notice how Russia winced in pain when he threw himself at him, how Russia didn't look as comfortable over the affection as he should.
England sighed dramatically, he was never shy in expressing his feeling about the useless idiot who got them into this in the first place. Serbia started to see more and more why he and France always fought.
“Pretend I'm not here,” his little brother America said and waved cheerfully. “I'm neutral!”
America greeted Russia very cheerfully, stealing him away too easily. Serbia started to wish he had stayed at home.
“Hey, can I have a hug too?” a familiar voice said and politely knocked on Serbia's shoulder.
“Czech?!”
“I'm a prisoner of war,” Czech happily said. “It's a very exciting experience.”
“I'm so happy to see you!” Serbia declared and hugged Czech almost as brutally as he had with Russia.
“Gah, I like my ribs unbroken,” Czech said, laughing at the same time. “It's so great to see everyone.”
“I'm so happy you finally seen the light.”
“I can't wait for Czechoslovakia to happen,” Czech said. “Assuming we win of course. But my bosses are complete morons, Hungary can't even figure out which one of us is the female one.”
“She couldn't even figure out her own gender without help, what did you expect?” Serbia said, successfully hiding the surge of panic. He never even thought about it. He had assumed both Czech and Slovakia were guys since they were pretty cool and uncomplicated. Thinking desperately Serbia studied Czech, who had picked up some weird mix of Russian military clothing. He had to be the guy and Slovakia the girl. That made the most sense.
“Very true,” Czech agreed. “How could we possibly lose with opponents like that?”
“Prussia is pretty good at war,” Serbia admitted. “And Ottoman is more powerful than my allies think. But we have the British Empire, France and Russia. I would be shaking and crying in a corner if I were Prussia...”
“Well, Austria and Hungary are caught up bitching at each other and playing out a marriage drama featuring Croatia as the evil home wrecker to worry about how their people don't get along at all. They need some outsider to blame you know, it can't just be them painting themselves into a corner. I think Prussia and his brother must be too busy actually fighting to cry right now.”
“I really need to ask Croatia about that, sounds entertaining.”
“If you want to hear him whine... You know, he's a lot closer to power than me but if you listen to him you think he's practically Cinderella.”
Serbia snickered, Czech could be a little bitchy too. Maybe he should reconsider his first gender assignment. But Czech was right, Croatia's secret correspondence had been polite but not as loving as what Slovenia and Bosnia sometimes wrote. It was Hungary's fault really, she worked very hard to turn him against his family.
“I think Yugoslavia is going to be a lot more complicated than you think,” Czech continued. “It's not even always that amazing between me and Slovakia and yet people keep mixing us up. But if we both do our best I'm sure we can make it work."
“Nice to see you enthusiastic for once,” Serbia said. “Taking out victory in advance and all that.”
“If you seen Austria and Hungary in action you wouldn't doubt.”
Serbia smiled even though he wasn't the slightest convinced. He was happy to see Czech, but when he thought of it he was more uninterested in helping the central powers he technically belonged to than to to actively fight against them. To Serbia that wasn't close to good enough. Most of his cousins seemed to prefer to be try to remain friendly just in case but let him bleed alone. Some day there would be a serious discussion about that.
While they were all busy with their private conversations France showed up fashionable late, with Montenegro right behind him.
Montenegro greeted him with a grunt, staying quietly at France's side. Weirdly enough he was always shy at meetings. Oh, he could say anything when he got angry but if you put Montenegro in front of a large group of nations and told him he had to chose between making a good impression on them or fight them barehanded Serbia suspected he would chose the fight every time.
“Do I know you?” America wondered, looking completely blank as Montenegro nervously greeted him.
“You should,” Serbia said. “It's my eh-,” Serbia hesitated, not sure what he should say to remind Montenegro they were close without sounding sappy. “eh.. my Montenegro?”
France snickered. Serbia blushed and hated himself for sounding like a complete idiot. Montenegro on the other hand was amused.
“If you start some wars he might remember your name too,” England said. “Otherwise I wouldn't hold my breath, I'm still impressed he guessed Serbia was located in Russia. It's a pretty good guess.”
“But I did start a war,” Montenegro unhappily said, drowned out by America's protesting England's assessment of him.
“Oh shut up,” England said. “You're not even here.”
It took Serbia a while to realize he wasn't invited to the meeting. For a moment he was speechless of fury, then Greece who could practically read his mind poked at him and gently pointed out pressing the issue probably would get him beaten up by everyone.
“Good point,” Serbia hesitantly agreed. At least England would love to get an excuse to smack him. “But we can at least listen in, can't we?”
“Can't imagine any reason not to,” Greece said.
He knew his way around and moved as quietly as a cat. The major powers didn't seem to realize some nations might have the gall to spy from the second entrance. Greece and Serbia stood very close and pressed their ears against the door. Luckily for them everyone involved was ridiculously loud.
“Sometimes I wish that damn place would sink to the bottom of the ocean,” England said. “If not for him we wouldn't be in this mess.”
“Oh ma cherie, it was unavoidable,” France said. “If not this, something else, Germany and Prussia were itching to take another shot at me. You know this as well as I do.”
“Good luck dealing with the moron then. You deserve each other.”
“I promise you, if you know the secret Serbia is much easier to handle than you. The less of my own men I have to waste in Balkan the better.”
He didn't hear anything from Russia defending him. But they quickly changed subject into the African campaign Serbia had little emotional investment in, perhaps Russia had stared evilly at them. America really had a lot of opinions for someone who wasn't there. Serbia couldn't help finding him adorable. Russia on the other hand kept on being strangely quiet.
“So... What's the secret of handling Serbia?”
Serbia said it in French, which he regretted the second he said it. He should have tried to force France to speak Serbian instead.
“The secret is to not treat Serbia like the classless thug he sometimes act as,” France replied. “We're all more complicated than that, aren't we?”
“And here I hoped learning French and follow you around would make me get class, kind of how you get tuberculosis.”
“I think Russia has similar beliefs,” France said. “I like to think it's sexually transferable. But for one serious moment, try to not be rude to England. He is not nearly as great as he thinks he is, but considering your position you need the British Empire much more than they need you. Try to not piss off more empires who could crush you easily.”
“Austria-Hungary thought they could crush me easily... I think they changed their minds...”
“If I remember it correctly, you sleep on Greece's couch now.”
“Go to hell.” And he actually slept in Greece's bed, it was big enough for both of them.
France smirked, knowing that the low key insult meant Serbia would obey. It was strange, if he ended up as someone's minion in this war he thought it would be Russia's. But he supposed this would work out too.
“I know you think you should be on the meeting too but you don't have much to do with the overall planning. You and I are going plan out your offensive together of course, but I doubt you even want to know about England and Germany's naval warfare. Frankly England bores me too.”
Serbia shrugged.
“Maybe I would care if you told me more about it.”
“I'll have someone give you the short version if you care that much. It shouldn't take more than a few days, I'm sure you'll have fun.”
“Fine,” Serbia sighed. France was probably right, he had better things to do than being intimately familiar with what the fuck was going on in Africa and Asia. He didn't even know why he tried to press the issue. “I'll shut up about this.”
“Could you go and talk to Russia instead? I think he could need it."
Russia was still sitting in the meeting room, alone, looking at the maps with a vacant stare.
“Uhm, hello? Why are you sitting here all alone with the lights off? It's a bit creepy.”
“I don't feel well,” Russia said. “My people are unhappy with me. Do your people love you Serbia, even after you brought all of this down on them?”
“It wasn't my fault!” Serbia protested. “Of course my people love me and your people love you. That's how it works. I'm Serbia and no matter what happens, we're Serbs and we'll survive. Russia is the same, that's why we're brothers.”
“It's a nice thought,” Russia said. “But you're often wrong about things. Sometimes I think my people isn't going to love me anymore if I'm not someone else. Do you think I should try to be someone else?”
“Ehm, like France? France is pretty cool but I don't think we should be like him.”
Russia sighed.
“No. Not like France. Like someone else entirely.”
“Tired of your bosses? Expect me to whine if you dispose of them, after the drama you put me through when I did that. And I even did it for my devotion to you! I had some spineless Austria supporters, then I got your friends.”
“And then we had this war.”
“Eh.. Good point... Fuck, just change regime if you're not happy, it's not such a big deal. But can't you wait until you're done beating up Prussia, Austria and Hungary?”
“I'm not sure I can,” Russia said. He looked so lost and unhappy Serbia didn't know what to say. It was Russia's job to be strong and protect him. It had been Russia's promise not that long ago, to be the big brother of the Slavic nations Austria, Hungary and Ottoman did their best to stomp on. Russia was the one who said, don't worry, don't be afraid, I'll protect you. Serbia told him he wasn't afraid of anything while quietly loving Russia more than he ever loved anyone else.
“I don't think I can do this,” Russia said again.
“If I can survive this, so can you,” Serbia said with a little more force than he intended. “It's not like we have a choice.”
“I'm sorry. I try harder.”
Russia hugged him. Serbia had wanted him to, yet it was a bit awkward and Serbia told him to not cry or he would hurt him. It made Russia smile a little.