Catch you reader-sans later~!
- Turtle-chan
You wake up to find your room
completely dark. There isn’t even
moonlight to see by, but this doesn’t bother you. You find the darkness comforting and you
allow yourself to be wrapped in it as in a lover’s arms. You stand and walk over to the window, gazing
out at the night sky. It’s a new moon,
so the only lights in the sky come from the stars.
We’re
wasting time. You know what we have to
do, so why are you trying to admire the stars.
They’re dead anyway.
I don’t want to
do this… It feels… Wrong.
Of course it isn’t wrong. You know what happened to us, why we are what
we are now. You know why we need to do
this.
Well… I mean, it was bad and all, but I’m trying to
forget it… I don’t want to do anything
so drastic over something so little…
You’re trying to forget?!? That is unacceptable! You must take that pain and hold onto it,
bury it deep into your heart and let it grow and fester until it all comes
bursting out! Here, I will help you
remember!
N-no! No, I don’t want to remember! Please!
Pl-!
Images begin flashing in your mind and you feel your body
stiffen and start trembling. You see the
one with the sunglasses and the dark skin on top of you, feel his lips on your
neck and his hands crawling over your body.
You see the one with the bandages and the violet eyes, feel the pain
wash over you as he brings the handle of the hockey stick down on your exposed
stomach, hear the cracking as your rib breaks.
You see the long-haired man with the blank eyes and blonde stubble,
watch him smirk as he presses the burning tip of his cigarette to your bare
skin, hear your screams ringing in your ears, smell flesh and hair
burning. You see the pink-haired man
with the too-blue eyes standing over you, your arms and legs bound
immobile. You watch him pull out a vial
of clear liquid and a tea pot. He turns
his back to you as he pours the tea into two cups and you know he’s poisoned
one of them by the way he grins at you.
You feel the knife in his hand slipping through your skin like hot
butter, feel the white-hot pain of the blade and the drip of the blood from the
wounds, trickling back to land in your messy hair, hear the choked, hoarse
noise that you assume is your cry of agony but you’re no longer certain.
You
feel tears sliding down your cheeks as you weep silently, curled in on
yourself. After a moment, you recover
yourself, however, and you look up. The
starlight is just bright enough that you can see yourself in the mirror and you
watch as your eyes slowly turn fuchsia.
As clouds begin to slide across the sky, extinguishing the light, a
smirk spreads across your lips.
~~~
Germany
lets out a sigh as he stamps the last piece of paperwork for the night. He removes his glasses and closes his eyes
for a moment, leaning back in his chair.
Another long day over, but they’ve started seeming longer and longer
without (y/n). He knows he’s worrying
Japan and Italy, but he’s just so tired of it all. It seems like every last bit of his ability
to act like nothing is wrong gets used up during his daily visits to (y/n) and
after that he can do nothing more than lock himself up in his office and brood
while he works. Six months have passed
since the incident and nothing seems to be improving. In fact, things are looking worse and worse
every day. She no longer speaks to
anyone unless it’s to herself and Germany has started noticing some…
changes. It’s something in her
appearance as well as the way she watches people. Sometimes she looks like her normal self, but
much smaller and frailer, more afraid.
Other times, though, she doesn’t look like herself, her hair seeming to
turn darker and almost blue-ish, her eyes gaining a pink tint. At those times, she watches people slyly and
carefully and the hatred in her eyes is almost enough to kill someone.
Germany
rubs his temples with irritation and stands up with a stretch. He turns out the light in his study and
begins to trudge upstairs to his bedroom.
The house is extremely dark, but he’s so familiar with the route that he
could do—and probably has done—it in his sleep.
As he enters his room, he shuts the door behind him and begins to remove
his clothes, stripping down to just his black tank top and his boxers. He runs a brush through his soft blonde hair,
combing the gel out, and then climbs into his bed, pulling the blankets up over
his shoulders. It doesn’t take long for
him to fall asleep.
~~~
You’re
finally ready. It took you a little
while to find what you needed, but now you have it. You heard Germany’s door open about half an
hour ago, so it should be safe to proceed.
You smirk to yourself and finger the precious object in your hands. Soon…
You
sneak your way across the room, avoiding the squeaky floorboards, and open your
bedroom door, looking in both directions before leaving the relative safety of
your inner sanctum. You slip down the
hall and come to a stop in front of Germany’s bedroom door. You bolster yourself one more time and turn
the knob.
As
you step inside, the first thing you notice is Germany’s large body asleep on
the bed, your night vision finally at its peak.
His blond hair hangs down over his forehead and his face looks as though
he’s in pain. You grin to yourself at
the thought, glad that he’s torturing himself.
He deserves it.
You
slink over to his bed, padding as silently as a cat, and stand next to
him. You give his face one last glance
before swinging your arm down at his throat, the blade in your hand dark as the
night surrounding you.
A
hand catches your wrist just as the blade touches flesh, however, and you feel
something cold and hard pressed against your temple. You look down in shock to see Germany glaring
up at you. He seems to recognize you and
he lowers the gun. “Do it,” he tells
you. You look at him, unable to quite
comprehend what he’s saying. “You are
here to kill me, right? So do it. I vill not shtop you.”
“Ha! You won’t even fight us,” you laugh
sharply. This is just too much. “How weak of you. This is why you couldn’t protect us in the
first place.”
Germany’s
eyes narrow in confusion, but he seems to figure out what’s going on after a
few moments. “I vas not tryink to
protekt you; I vas tryink to protekt (y/n).
You are just borrowink her boty, so you are not zee same,” he
responds. “Of kourse, zat means I kannot
hurt you bekause it would mean hurtink her, so I repeat: kill me if you vill.”
You
glare down at him, sickened by his heroics.
How disgusting. Why did you ever
fall for him?
Germany! Oh, don’t kill him! You can’t!
You know full well that I’m going to kill
him and you’re going to shut up and let me do it!
No! I won’t let you! Germany!
Germany!! Let me go, you
bitch! Give me back my body!
Hoho!
Now you fight! It’s too late,
though, because I’ve already won! Once I
kill your beloved Germany I will take your body from you permanently and then
we won’t be a “we,” but instead we’ll be “me.”
You can’t do
that! I won’t let you!
But you already have. It would be easier for you to just give up,
you know.
I won’t! I’ll keep fighting you until the very end!
~~~
Germany
feels the bite of the blade as it digs into the soft skin of his neck. He’s slightly worried that he really will be
killed, but he thinks he has a plan now.
As she stands over him, he notices that (y/n)’s appearance keeps
changing, her eyes rotating between fuchsia and their natural color in rapid
succession. She’s still in there and it
looks like she’s fighting back, so he decides to give her a little more
incentive. He holds the muzzle of the
Luger against his temple and looks up at her face.
“Are
you unable to finish the job? Look, I
vill do it for you if you kannot. A
vorlt visout (y/n) is a vorlt not vors livink in,” he declares, forcing his
hand to stop trembling. He knows it’s a
dangerous gamble, but it’s his last bet.
He
watches (y/n)’s eyes widen, their normal color taking over almost entirely
before the pink washes back into them.
She seems to be doing battle with herself.
~~~
No, no, no!
Stop this! Germany, don’t do
it! Look what you’ve done?
Hahahahaha!
This is even more perfect than I could have imagined! I won’t even have to do the work myself! But I will anyway as a part of my vengeance
for us.
I won’t lose to
you. You cannot break me. You have no power over me.
Why you little… Come, then!
Remember!
Horrible images begin to flood your brain, but you manage
to block them out, replace them with happier ones. You’re back in the infirmary on your first
day with the Axis, years ago now, and you feel Germany’s fingers gently
bandaging your wounds, the scarlet tint to his face when he sees you wearing
nothing but his t-shirt. You see him
standing with you in the cramped bathroom, watching you as you reach to touch
his hair, still wet from the shower. You
see him sitting across from you, arguing with Romano on your first date. You see him in his German Sparkle Party
getup, dancing and smiling and sweating next to you. You see him standing in front of you, holding
out a plate of gingerbread cookies, his face bright red and averting his gorgeous
blue eyes as he admits his affection for you.
You see him on his bed, bandages wrapped around his torso and the scent
of him filling your nose as you cry against his bare skin, the feel of his lips
brushing against your hand. You see him
on the firing range, his perfect precision when he shoots, feeling his strong
body and large hands against yours as he helps you shoot the Mauser. You see him in his suit as you come down the
stairs, his blue eyes wide with surprise and his cheeks dusted a soft pink. You see him in France’s rose garden, nervous
but determined, wrapping his arms around you and telling you he loves you, his
relieved face when you tell him you feel the same, the softness and sweetness
of his lips against yours for the very first time. Your mind is filled with memories of Germany
and your time together with him before the incident that made you what you are
now.
You
can’t… Win… So easily…
I can… Still… Beat you…
Hush. It’s time for you to rest now. You’ve done an awful lot lately and I’m sure
you’re tired.
Yeah…
I am tired… But…! I will be back…!
Goodnight…
Yeah.
Goodnight…
You
blink your eyes several times before you manage to orient yourself. You’re in Germany’s room… But why…?
And what’s…? You notice the knife
in your hand, still pressed to Germany’s throat, and you throw it away with a
yelp. Germany looks up at you warily for
a moment before removing the muzzle of the Luger from his temple. “(y/n)…?” he murmurs. It’s a question, not a statement.
You
look at him and feel yourself trembling.
Your vision goes blurry and you begin to sob, collapsing to your knees
beside Germany’s bed. “Germany… Germany…,” you weep, unable to see him but
aware that he’s there. You’ve missed him
so much…
Germany
watches you in shock, unsure of what to do.
It seems like the real you is back, but he doesn’t know how much of the
trauma you’ve retained. He wants to
reach out to you, to hold you, but he doesn’t know if it will turn you back
into the other you. But he wants it so badly
it hurts…
Cautiously,
tentatively, he extends a hand toward your head, pausing with his fingers just
inches away. He furrows his brow and
watches you for a moment, torn between logic and instinct. You turn your face up to him, pain and relief
and sadness written across it, and his decision is made for him. He kneels on the floor beside you and strokes
your hair gently. You flinch away from
his touch at first, but then you lean into him and bury your face against his
strong chest. He wraps his arms around
you and buries his face in your hair while you cling to him.
“(y/n)…,”
he breathes, giving you a brief and gentle squeeze. His voice is trembling slightly and full of
emotion.
“I’m
so sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head and hiccupping for breath. “I’m so, so sorry…”
“Shh… It is alright. You are bak now so eferysink is alright,” he
murmurs soothingly. It’s like a huge
weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.
He can’t help but notice how thin and fragile you’ve become and how tiny
you feel in his arms. He just wants to
protect you from anything and everything the world might throw at you.
“Germany… I missed you…
So much…,” you tell him, pulling away just enough to be able to look at
him through tear-blurred eyes.
He
reaches a hand up and brushes the tears away, his face swimming into
focus. “I misset you, too, Schatz.
Zank you for komink bak,” he responds, smiling softly down at you.
You
feel a fresh round of crying coming on, so you press yourself against him once
more, not even caring that he’s seeing you cry.
As he watches you and holds you, Germany feels his eyes growing damp as
well, but he doesn’t reach up to rub his eyes.
He’s afraid that if he lets you go he won’t get you back again. He just can’t believe that you’re back to
yourself again after all of those long, painful months.
After
a while, you wear yourself out and stop crying, just resting your head against
Germany’s chest and listening to his heart beating. “Are you avake, mein Schatz?” Germany whispers to you, shifting slightly.
“Ja,” you reply quietly.
“You
shoult schleep, Liebe. You neet to regain your strength,” he tells
you rubbing a hand against your upper back.
You’re
quiet for a moment, understanding that what he’s saying is logical but also not
wanting to leave his side. “Could I stay
in here with you?” you ask him meekly.
You aren’t sure how he’ll react to this.
“Of
kourse,” he responds with what almost sounds like a sigh of relief.
Reluctantly,
he releases you and you crawl into his bed and under the blankets. He follows you in and lies down on his side,
pulling you in close to him so that your body is nestled against his own. He bends down and plants a gentle but
emotional kiss on the top of your head.
“Ich liebe dich, (y/n),” he
tells you quietly.
“Ich liebe dich auch, Deutschland,” you
respond, stretching up to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his neck.
He
smiles down at you and strokes your hair absentmindedly. You find comfort in his warmth and your
nostrils are filled with his scent. You
feel like you’re finally home again and that allows you to relax. You fall asleep and sleep more deeply and
more peacefully than you have in months.
~~~
It
is late in the morning already and Japan and Italy have begun to grow
worried. Germany still hasn’t emerged
from his room yet to start work or training.
They’re concerned that something may be wrong with him, but too scared
to check. After several minutes of
debating, they decide to just open his door to peek in, just to make sure he’s
alright. Japan quietly approaches the
door with Italy standing just behind him, looking over his shoulder. He turns the knob and opens the door as
quietly as possible before taking a look inside.
Both
men see Germany lying on his side, supporting his head on the palm of his left
hand, looking down at something on the bed.
He turns his head at the sound of the door opening and there is a smile
on his face. He holds a finger to his
lips in a shushing gesture and then points down at the bed. Upon closer observation, Japan and Italy see
(y/n)’s sleeping body lying curled up next to Germany. Her lips are curved up in a smile and her
face looks peaceful. Germany looks
happier than he has in ages and the dark circles under his eyes seem to be
greatly lessened. Italy is beaming as
Japan ushers him out into the hall. He
frolics off into the garden, humming to himself, leaving Japan out in the hall
alone. Japan allows himself the small
indulgence of a smile, relieved beyond measure that (y/n) is back and that
Germany is happy again.
No comments:
Post a Comment