"Camaraderie" by Mozart

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I don't know why
I was gonna update things like a responsible person
and then I felt this urge to write for Prussia.

also I don't even know when this takes place, use your imagination

end note: sleep cute is my favorite trope. ever.
The sounds of war were all around you, but they seemed distinctly faint in your ears. It was a sort of serene soundtrack as you sat there in vigil, watching the birds escape from the trees around you whenever an explosion seemed a bit too close. The sunlight was warming your face and hands, and you would have been content, had you not already been distracted by everything else going on in your life.

To those passing you by, you looked as if you were taking a break from the war...or worse, trying to hide from it, like a coward. To Prussia, though, you merely looked like you were enjoying the sights and sounds around you as you sat there against a tree.

"I was wondering where you were at." Prussia himself looked a bit worse for the wear. A rather painful side wound inhibited most of his speed and strength, and it needed to be treated immediately. Such a thing was a near-insult to him, particularly because the wound was nowhere near fatal.

"Hey, I had your back the entire fight." You smirked up at him, almost teasing, as you sat there quietly in the shadow of the tree.

"Not long enough!" Prussia gestured to his side wound. "Fuck, I'll have to go to the hospital for this shit. I can't even fire my sidearm without losing a pint of blood...or else, I'd still be out there fighting. What's the use if I can't kill any bastards?"

"You have two legs," you remarked stubbornly, "so go walk over there yourself, yeah?"

"I was going to figure out where the hell you went, first." Prussia loomed over you critically. You didn't seem hurt, really--so why were you sitting this one out? "Don't you think that your boys want to see their precious wifey?"

"Not all of them are married to their country, thankyouverymuch." You grinned at the notion. "I'm doing fine here, actually, for the moment. Shouldn't you hurry back and get yourself all stitched up? How would your ladyfriend react to you coming back all stapled together? You'll fall apart, if you don't get that treated."

"Wait--ladyfriend? The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Prussia accused you sharply.

"Don't look at me like I don't know." You sighed, wishing your legs weren't quite so straight, right now--it was rather painful to sit like this. "You and Hungary, right? We're all comrades here. It's not like it's a secret, or anything."

"It's still none of your goddamn business..."

"Everything you do is my business!" you retorted sharply, fumbling into your pocket for some cigarettes to ease your mind. Much to your dismay, you found none. "I mean, how many times have we saved each other's asses? I know you inside and out, buddy."

"I'm just saying, dumbass, Hungary is..." Prussia struggled for some sort of eloquent explanation. "She's different, see? It's not what you think."

"Of course it's what I think! I'm not completely stupid." You laughed harshly. "As soon as you won this battle, you were going to go over there, yeah? Ask her to marry you, or some shit like that? Love during wartime is a pretty anguishing thing, I gotta admit. You've got balls, kid."

"You're still stupid," Prussia rebuked, shaking his head. "I told you, it's complicated. I can't explain it right here, I mean, I'm not going to ask her to marry me or any of that shit..."

"You're not gonna, but you want to," you corrected him. "I see the way you look at her--she could beat you up halfway to hell, and you wouldn't give a damn, eh? It's chivalrous of you. I respect it."

"I'm still telling you, it's none of your goddamn business what's between me and Hungary..." Prussia seemed desperate to get off the subject, but you were too bored with everything around you to let it go.

"Yeah, but you leave those love letters everywhere..."

"What the hell are you talking about now, kid?"

"I see you write letters to her..." You rubbed a tired eye. "I mean, everyone sees 'em. I don't read 'em for your goddamn privacy, but I can see a sniper from a football field away--I'm pretty sure I can see you trying to smuggle sommat mushy shit around."

"Goddammit, you don't give up, do you?" Prussia sighed heavily. "Kesesese--but, you've still got spirit, kid. If you're so damn interested in what I've been writing, how about you get off your ass and see for yourself?"

"Sorry, but I'd much rather stay here." You smirked suspiciously, patting the dirt next to you. "It's, uh, nice and comfy."

"C'mon. It's a long walk, by myself," Prussia reiterated stubbornly. "This wound ain't gonna heal itself."

"But, getting up's a tricky subject, for me." You laughed heartily. "How about you look for yourself, boy?"

It was then that the shadows around you seemed to disappear briefly, and for once, Prussia could truly see your position. You were casually sitting against the tree, but--what were all the stains around you? What'd happened to your military uniform to make it so...dark?

And then he'd realized that you'd not moved your legs once during the entire conversation.

" legs have been broken the entire goddamn time?"

"Yeah." You shrugged nonchalantly. "Hurts like a bitch, too. It could be worse. So, I guess I need to go to a hospital, but no guy with a stretcher's gonna come all the way out here, yeah?"

"Such a stupid woman." Prussia sighed. "You really sat here and pissed me off for five minutes with broken legs?"

"I guess." You grinned. "But, hey, you still have two working legs. How about you go tell someone from the hospital to come pick me up?"

"Dumbass!" Prussia would have smacked you, if not for fear that your head was equally injured. "You'll bleed out by that time."

"I'm a nation." Your eyes narrowed. "It's gonna take a helluva lot more to kill me than broken legs. You won't die from that, either, so what's the big hurry?"

"Why don't you just shut up and get on?" Prussia growled.

"Get on what?"

"My back, Sherlock. How the hell else will I carry you?"

You stared. What the hell was going on? Was he being considerate, helpful? Did he care about your health--was he worried?

"Besides, your guys'll kill me if I let you sit out and get all infected."

Oh. Comforted with the norm, you let him pull you up gently and hoist you onto his back. Every time your legs moved the slightest, pain wracked your body, but you let it go. You were too tired by everything to care. Your legs would heal, yes, but there was something horrible and aching in your chest cavity that you knew would never be fixed with something so easily as bandages and splints. Goddammit, you loved Prussia and he loved Hungary, and Hungary loved Austria. Nothing ever worked out in the goddamn world that you fought for, and it didn't feel fair.

"So, enlighten me." Prussia was obviously straining with your weight combined with his side wound, but he didn't seem to mind the pain. "How'd they break your legs, anyway? I coulda sworn you were behind me the whole time."

"I was watching your back...I didn't lie," you told him. "But they could see that you were the biggest badass on that field, naturally, and they were all going for you, so--I took some explosions for you. It's no big deal."

"Explosions? You gotta be kidding me." Prussia sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder how smart you actually are, kid."

"Hey, hey," you retorted defensively, "I'm telling you, I was protecting you. I had to watch your back."

"Protecting me, huh?" Prussia grinned. "You should know by now that the great Prussia needs no such thing."

"You think you don't, but of course you do." You laughed. "I'm just hoping that my legs heal quick, so I can kick your ass properly."

As he continued to carry you, you were reminded by just how long of a walk that it took to get back to the camp. It seemed like at least a dozen miles, even though Prussia had barely traveled two. You were shocked into a silence by his (for once) selfless action of carrying you the whole damn way. What had gotten into him?

"So, about Hungary--" Your breath was hot in his ear--not unpleasant, and, for right now, not at all teasing. "--you might want to dump me before you go see her. There's nothing more unbecoming than a bloody girl on your back, eh? You really are going to tell her you love her, huh?"

"No," was his straightforward answer.

"I just feel out of the loop, is all." You repositioned yourself on his back the best you could, so you could get closer to the side of his face. "Why not? I thought you were head-over-heels for her, since you met her."

"It was different," Prussia replied stubbornly. "Just as I told you, it was different."

"Then, who were those letters for, anyway?"

"I told you, you're a stupid woman." Prussia stopped suddenly, both in movement and speech. The usual trail ahead had been obliterated by the warfare. A detour was necessary now to get back to camp, but he had no energy left to take another path through the forest.


"Down goes her Royal Highness," Prussia remarked sarcastically, setting you down easily on the ground. "Ah, this wound sucks even more and more. I hate it."

"C'mon, tell me," you pressed, unconcerned with your own broken legs for the moment.

"You really can't tell by now?! Woman!" Prussia stared at you with mild contempt. "I carried you on my back for four miles, and you still couldn't tell that I love you? Bah! The time I waste on you!"

You blinked--slowly.

"And now you're staring at me like a dumb cow. Honestly..." Prussia took a seat beside you. "Eh, we shouldn't be waiting here very long...some other dumbass will probably try to use the same route, and they'll find big deal, eh?"

"Hey, I love you, too."

"It's probably good to hear that, but I'm sure you should save that sort of speech for when we're not bleeding and tired. Kesesese..." Prussia stared up at the sky. "Eh...this sort of day..."

"I think this was a good day," you replied stubbornly. "No, don't say anything bad about this was a good day."

"Whatever you say, kid, whatever you say...Jesus..."

When your soldiers arrived, they were relieved to find you both very much alive and not totally bleeding all over the dirt. However, they couldn't get many details out of you, as both of you were quite frankly fast asleep--slumbering against one another, with no space or foreign name between you.

The soldiers did not ask questions about whether you were lovers, or comrades--somewhere in their senses, they understood. The relationship between the two of you was too complicated, too pure, too wonderful to be classified in such simplistic terms.

Whatever it was, though--they decided that it must have been extraordinary.

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