Alright, I'm going to stop talking and just post this. Catch you reader-sans later!
- Turtle-chan
The boys had gone out earlier in
the day. A note was left on the doorstep
last night, calling an emergency world meeting.
Apparently something had come up that required immediate attention. You hope it’s nothing serious, but you’re not
so sure. There has been this weird sick
sensation in your stomach since the boys left and you can’t shake the feeling
of unease. You glance out of the window
as you do the dishes and notice something moving up the walkway. You look closer and see that it’s Japan,
Italy, and Germany, but something’s not right.
Japan and Italy are supporting Germany and he’s not moving.
“Germany!” you gasp as Italy and
Japan drag an unconscious and bloody Germany into the house. You drop the dishtowel and run over to
them. “What happened?”
The two men exchange a look and
you notice that they too are bloodied and bruised, but Germany definitely got
the worst of it. “It was an ambush,
(y/n),” Italy sighs. “We didn’t expect
it.”
You shake your head. “Let’s just take care of Germany and then we
can talk. Here, I’ll help,” you tell
him, going to take Italy’s place supporting one of Germany’s arms. Italy goes and takes his legs, struggling to
lift them more than a few inches off of the ground.
It’s slow progress, but the
three of you do manage to get Germany up the stairs. In the process, his head has come to rest
against your neck and you can feel him breathing. It’s faint and a little irregular, but you
try not to think too much about what that could mean. You manage to carry him into his bedroom.
“Alright, on the count of three,
we lift,” you say, looking at Japan and then Italy. They both nod and you start counting. “One…
Two… Three!”
On three, you all put whatever
muscle you have into hoisting Germany’s heavy, limp body onto the bed. You make sure to gently ease Germany’s head
down onto the pillow.
“Okay, we need to get you guys
cleaned up,” you say, trying not to look down at Germany.
“It is alright, (y/n)-san. Italy-kun and I can take care of
ourselves. Please look after
Germany-san,” Japan tells you quietly.
Italy smiles and nods in agreement, but you can tell he’s worried, which
scares you.
“Alright. I guess I’ll use the first aid kit in the
bathroom, then,” you tell them, attempting and failing to smile.
The two men leave the room to
clean their wounds and you take a last glance down at Germany before getting
the first aid kit. It looks bad. Really, really bad, actually. There’s so much blood that it’s hard to tell
what the actual damage is, though.
You return to Germany’s room
with the first aid kit, a rag, and a bowl of warm water. You set the items out on the floor and kneel
down beside the bed to work. You start
out by gently wiping off the worst of the blood on Germany’s face with the rag
and warm water. It looks like he only
has a few scratches and several bruises, but nothing too major. With mild embarrassment, you move on to
remove his blood-soaked uniform. When
you’re done, he’s left wearing only his red underwear. Blushing furiously, you dab away at the blood
covering his abdomen, finding only one gouge of any major importance and
several small scratches. The same goes
for his legs, so you get the worst of the blood off and then move back to the
cut on his abdomen. It’s on his side and
it’s not deep enough to warrant stitches, but it is pretty long, so you aren’t
sure how you’re going to bandage it, especially since he’s laying down and you
aren’t strong enough to lift him on your own.
In the meantime, you press gauze to it to soak up the blood.
“Vhere am I? Vat is goink on?” you hear Germany groan.
You look up and see him rubbing
his eyes with a large hand and you almost cry out of relief. “Shh.
It’s alright. You got hurt
earlier, but you’re home now,” you tell him quietly and gently, still holding
the gauze to his cut.
He looks around for a moment
before his blue eyes find you and when they do, you smile at him. “(y/n)…” he says quietly. Something about the way he says your name
makes you shiver.
“It’s alright,” you repeat. He tries to push himself into a sitting
position, but only makes it up onto an elbow.
“Don’t try to move. Here, I’ll
bandage you up since you’re there, but after that you need to lie down and
rest.”
You grab a roll of bandages and
then sit down on the bed behind Germany.
You hold one end of the roll over the gauze and then start to wrap it
around his torso. As you do so, you try
not to notice how his muscles seem to roll when he moves or how warm he
is. You try not to notice how close you
are. You hurry and tie the bandage off
but as you try to move away, Germany catches your wrist gently.
“Zank you, (y/n),” he tells
you. “Did zee osers make it back
safely?”
You nod and then, realizing that
he can’t see it, say,” Yes. They had a
few cuts and scrapes, but they were basically alright.”
“Goot. I vish I hat been able to do more,” he
responds.
“No!” you blurt out before you
have time to think.
“Hm?”
“You don’t need to do more. They’re fine.
You guys will all be fine,” you say, feeling tears starting to drip down
your cheeks. Your voice is shaky and
weak. Germany turns his head to look
back at you, but you stop him with a light touch on his cheek. “Don’t look.”
He turns away again, but he
slides his hand down and intertwines his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb
lightly across your knuckles. You lean
forward and rest your forehead against the place where his neck and shoulder
meet and wrap your free arm around him, holding him close to you and placing
your hand, curled into a loose fist, on the firm expanse of muscle where you
feel his heart beating strongly.
“You scared me,” you murmur against
his neck. “When I saw them carry you in,
I think my heart stopped beating for a second.”
He squeezes your hand
lightly. “I am sorry. I did not mean to kaus you pain,” he tells
you in a quiet voice.
You shake your head. “I know.
Just, please try to take care of yourself. I know you always try to take care of
everyone else first, but please don’t get yourself killed over it. I… I
don’t know if I’d be able to handle that,” you tell him, pressing closer to him
and breathing in his scent. You don’t know
what you’d do if he was gone forever.
The thought scares you.
“Shh. I am alright.
Zank you for vorryink about me, (y/n),” he says. He takes your hand and presses it to his lips
softly before bringing it back down and rubbing it again.
You sit there like that until
your body stops shaking and you are able to breathe normally again. Your tears have made Germany’s skin wet, but
he doesn’t seem to mind. He leans back
against you, not hard enough to push you over but enough to be reassuring. “Are you alright now, Mädchen?” he asks you gently.
You nod against him and then sit up. “Yeah.
Sorry about that. I’m not really
sure what came over me,” you tell him with embarrassment. You let go of him and start to pull away, but
he still has your hand.
He looks up at you, his beautiful blue eyes locking onto
yours. “Zank you, (y/n). I am glat zat you trust me enough to tell me
zat. I am fery sorry zat I haf mate you
vorry, zough you shoult follov your own atvice sometimes as vell. Do not try to keep eferysink bottlet up, as
you say,” he tells you and you can see his concern.
You can’t help but giggle. “Hee hee!
I guess that’s a problem we both need to work on,” you respond, smiling
at him.
A slight smile seems to tug at the corners of his lips
briefly and a light dusting of pink covers his cheeks. “It is not a bat problem to haf. I just do not vant you to cry,” he tells you,
averting his gaze in embarrassment as he releases your hand.
You smile to yourself as you go
to get a blanket out of the chest at the foot of the bed and drape it over
Germany. “Get some rest,” you tell him
as you lightly smooth back a stray hair from his face. You notice that he closes his eyes and leans
into your touch for a moment. You gather
up all of the first aid items and Germany’s clothes and head toward the door,
but you pause in the doorway. “I’m going
to go check on Japan and Italy, but I’ll come back later and bring you some
dinner.” You smile at him one more time
and close the door quietly, humming to yourself. Your heart is pounding and you feel like
you’re overflowing with emotion.
“I sit here and smile,
dear. I smile because I think of you and
I blush. These bleeding, hollow dials,
this fuss. This fuss is made of miles of
travels when roadways are but stones and gravel. A bleeding heart can conquer every grudge,”
you croon, smiling as you sing. It’s
finally occurred to you that you are deeply, hopelessly, foolishly in love with
Germany. You’ve been that way for a
while, but your reaction when you saw that he was injured has forced you to
admit it to yourself. You had always
thought that being in love would be awful and painful, but somehow you like
it. You feel lighter than air and you
can’t stop smiling foolishly. You feel
that your cheeks are hot, but you don’t care.
All that matters is Germany and your feelings for him.
In the meantime, Japan had come
up to check on you earlier, but he saw you crying on Germany’s shoulder and
decided to leave you alone. He has been
sitting in his room, waiting for you to come out when he hears you
singing. It doesn’t take a genius to
figure out who might be on your mind and Japan has been paying close attention
to your interactions with Germany from very early on. He smirks to himself a little bit and decides
not to bother you. Yet…
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