Chapter Text
A little hand brushed gently against Prussia's face, causing him to shoot up from his nap and smack his face against a branch. He sat up for a moment, feeling unsteady.
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.
This thought was partially related to the hand touching his face, even less related to hitting the branch and was mainly directed to the amount of pain he was feeling. Which was barely any. The last time he was focused in on his surrounding
he was in tremendous pain. Shaking in a cot with the countries surrounding him and Hungary pressing a cold rag to his forehead.
And his brother sitting beside him.
The only pain he was feeling was pain from his youth. Back from when the slice above his navel from the Battle of Rossbach still ached and the gash above his forehead from the Battle of Waterloo still bled sometimes.
Prussia frantically ran his left hand over his body. His other hand was pressing something against him but he didn't realize what. He was relatively unscarred. Besides a few previous scars, his body showed none of the conditions it was suffering under before he woke up. He seemed different in other ways. His hair seemed longer, his frame smaller, his proud jaw was tender. Prussia thought again.
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.
"Wargs brāti are you alright"?
Prussia's eyes shot down to his arm that he just realized was holding someone. His body jolted. He was holding someone familiar, someone that was looking back up at him with an expression of curiosity and concern.
This was his little brother, but it wasn't. Germany was grown. He is a strong country now and a grown man. This was no man. This boy's face was softer, hair longer, his features weren't lined. He was younger somehow.
Prussia dug a hand into the ground, it re-emerged with foamy dirt and grass blades. They both smelled familiar. Prussia sat up, keeping the young Germany pressed against him. A building stood far away, its presence comforted Prussia.
He knew this place.
He knew this well.
Sanssouci Park. He came here much in his many years. The sun was high. The breeze, soft against his skin. This was not recent. The air had considerably fouled over decades. No this was in the past. And he remembered this. He was tired from training and he snuck his baby brother there so he would have an excuse to take a nap in the sweet sun. This was perhaps in spring and definitely in 1900.The boy was still watching him, his blue eyes were as bright as the sky. Prussia hasn't seen them that blue in years. Age and war darkened them, leaving them the color of the sea. Prussia fought a tear back. He tackled the boy into the grass. His heart nearly burst from the giggling of the boy who's laugh had become as rare as the comfort Prussia felt that moment.
"You worry too much brāti, I just dozed off and got confused. The great Prussia is too awesome for problems".
The two brothers rolled around a bit more before reassuming their hiding spot under the tree. Prussia, with young Germany's head against his chest and his own arm against Germany's back, gently pating; allowed himself to drift off back to sleep. Prussia knew this wasn't real. He knew he was dying and he was doing so with Hungary screaming and Germany cradling him in shaking arms. But for now there was nothing but him, his brother, and the delicate breeze.