Chapter Text
“I’m dying,” Prussia said, “It’s what happens to us nations when our counties cease to exist.” He hated this. He hated it so much. He hated being weak, and he hated more that Germany could see it.
“What, so there’s nothing I can do? I get you back only to watch you die? I can’t accept that.” Germany said, his voice hard and angry but his face betraying that it was on the verge of tears. That was all together far too much crying for one century. Prussia had taught him better (worse) than that.
“Well,” Prusia said, “We did get one good party in before I collapsed.”
He’d thought that was the end. He’d thought he’d have one good day, one amazingly un-hoped for good day with the people he loved, with Germany finally healed and whole, grown in to the man he should be without Prussia’s influence, and be done. Who could ask for better than that? And then he’d woken up in Germany’s bedroom with Germany hovering over him asking what was wrong, and Prussia thought, well shit. It’s going to be a slow death, then.
“Damn you, Prussia,” Germany said.
“Please don’t,” Prussia said, and he smiled like it was a joke, but the smile had cracks in it wide enough to eat him alive. Alive. He was so tired. He tried to think back to a time when he wasn’t tired. It had to have been before the first world war.
“If I’d known East Germany--”
“No,” Prussia growled, and then coughed. His ribs felt like they were fracturing and he tasted blood. Shit.
“Germany, no. Please,” he said, softer. Weaker. “Just let me look at you.”
But then Germany really was crying, and Prussia didn’t want to see that at all. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.