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hetaliasunshineAuthor/Artist: mase992
Recipient: Richard Roe (anonymous)
Characters/Pairings: Prussia, Germany, brief mention of Italy. Mild Germany/Italy implied and if you look much into it HRE/Italy.
Rating: K
Notes: Prompt: “Prussia becomes attached to chicks and decides to keep many of them in his bedroom. Germany gets dragged into Prussia’s bird caring.”
Summary: When Prussia brings home three little birds, the happiness brought by them may not be reserved only to one member of the Beilschmidt household...
* * *
It was the hottest day of the month.
It was one of those days when children moaned in agony at the prospect of having PE cancelled, old ladies turned their electric fan on and fell asleep because of the humming sound made by the engine. A day when young girls sold lemonade in cardboard stands, the hot neighbour would surely walk around her house naked without ever knowing she was being watched by the neighbourhood’s stalker with binoculars modelled after a Star Trek prop, and it was also a day when most sensible slackers would use the heat as an excuse to stay home with a cold beer in one hand, the remote control in the other, and their butts firmly put over the crispy leather of the couch.
This was exactly what Prussia chose to do on that hot September day.
He chugged down half of his beer in one long drink and exhaled as the beverage cooled his throat, sending a sudden rush reminiscent of when he drank seawater after being toppled over by a wave once. The nation exclaimed with relief and licked his lips. One of Germany’s dogs rested its head lazily over Prussia’s lap and whined because of the unbearable heat.
“’S not like I can do something about it, darling.” He said as he changed the channel. The weather channel was definitely the suckiest option at the moment. The golden retriever whined again and pressed her nose against Prussia’s elbow.
“Cut it out, Blondie!” He groaned, moving his thighs up to get the heavy animal off him but it seemed she had already made her move on the major conquest of the best spot in the couch. “Hey! No way! That’s my place, go get yours!” He snarled pressing his fingers against her tan coat and preparing to role her down, as usual. The dog only stared back and lazily stretched its paw towards Prussia, stretching and wagging her tail. The movement made Prussia hit his can and spill what was left of his beer on the rug.
His left eye twitching ever so lightly, Prussia pressed a palm against his forehead and groaned. “Aw fuck...!”
“Bruder!”
“Fuck me...!” He turned, turning his back on the dark stain stretching across the surface of the once spotless rug and faced his approaching brother with that look he’s mastered long ago, that somewhat said “what is it now, West? I haven’t done anything and I certainly know nothing of a certain awesome person dropping beer on the rug”. With his eyes distant, avoiding the crime scene, lips twisted to one side, and shrugging, Prussia asked exactly that.
Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in and out repeatedly. He really didn’t feel like scolding his older brother at the moment, not after the long driving lessons with Italy from earlier. He could feel that headache throbbing already (and it started to sound like: “Germany, that truck is coming straight towards us! Germany I can’t look!” and then his own frantic voice ringing “Italy! Don’t let go of the steering wheel!”).
Germany sighed and glared at the stain. Then back at his brother who was trying his best not to look nervous. The golden retriever started to lick the puddle innocently. Germany’s eyebrow twitched and a traffic horn ringed in his ears. “Bruder, go to the store and buy some medicine. I’m not feeling well and my head hurts.”
“But it’s boiling outside!” He pouted, momentarily making Germany wonder if he really was the younger of the two. “You don’t want your great older brother to walk so far under the blazing sun, and then to faint, and get run over by a stupid car, depriving the world of my awesome self! Only leaving you wondering just why you ever even considered sending him for some medicine.”
Without looking back, Germany tossed him a towel as he climbed the stairs.
“You can go after you’re done cleaning that mess. And I want it to shine.”
“But West—!”
“You can take Blondie with you.” He answered curtly from upstairs, using that tone that meant “this conversation is over, Bruder. Now, get the hell out before I make you clean that with your toothbrush”.
Prussia humphed loudly, turned towards the dog, and said, “I hate you right now.”
Blondie looked up at her owner, wagged her tail slowly, and then continued licking the rug.
* * *
If it wasn’t because of Germany’s headache Prussia would have ignored everything and stayed watching dumb sit-coms with candy-flavoured popcorn and another cool beer. But then again, that spilled beer had been the last one. Cursing loudly, Prussia walked down the street with Blondie trotting beside him, her tongue lolling out of her snout comically. He carried two plastic bags: one had the medicine and in the other glass clinked as his refreshments bumped against each other as he bobbed up and down the street.
He looked around without much interest, the heat dulling his senses and hazing the sidewalk until he crashed against a bench and landed with his back flat against the cement. Blondie barked loudly, unnerved by the wild movements of her owner.
“Ah sure! Just what I needed!” He said, counting his bones and looking for any small bruises. Well, at least nothing was broken.
Then, he felt something on his head. Weight on his head.
Prussia touched his tousled hair, looking for whatever had fallen on him. Blondie continued barking and Prussia just then noticed she kept barking at him. His fingers brushed something soft, that ruffled under his touch and an indignant chirp followed after that.
“What the hell is this? A bird?”
Carefully, he lifted his other hand. The little animal (which he was sure was a bird now) had taken to shaking its tiny body and nestled its claws amidst his light locks. With both hands he grabbed the bird and looked at it, putting it carefully on top of his palm. His crimson eyes studied the bird and as he looked at it closely, that remnant of annoyance dissipated. It was a very little bird —barely the size of Prussia’s hand— with faded feathers of the colour of butter. Its eyes were small as well, black dots in its tiny yellow head and a short beak. The bird looked up at Prussia without noticeable fear and it tilted its head. Prussia chuckled and passed his palm over the little bird’s head.
“You’re so damn cute.”
The bird chirped back, stretching its wings briefly and lifting itself from Prussia’s hand. Before he knew it, it had landed on his head again and nestled amidst his hair. Chuckling, Prussia gently poked the bird with his finger and stood up. Blondie looked up at him curiously, obviously noticing the extra head. She sniffed and wagged her tail when Prussia laughed again loudly as he noticed “something” before him, and then he turned back to the store carrying “it” in his arms.
* * *
If he wasn’t ill, Germany could have sworn by his precious wursts that his brother had returned home with three little chicks; two huddled in his arms, and one sitting on top of his head. If he wasn’t so ill then he could assure himself that Prussia was not in the room across from his talking to said birds.
“Oi, West! Lookatthislookatthis,isn’titcute?!”
But sadly, all of this was real, as real as Prussia bursting into his room shouting something. His nap would have to wait.
“What is it...?” He said, opening his eyes grudgingly and then rubbing his temples.
“You have to see this!” Prussia exclaimed, waving his arms excitedly and signalling towards his room.
Knowing that he wouldn’t rest until his brother had it his way, Germany wearily stepped from his bed and followed Prussia to the other room. What he saw made Germany blink once, twice, and he had to rub his eyes to believe what he was seeing was not an illusion borne from his growing headache.
“Prussia... what is this?”
Three little birds flew happily across his brother’s room, sitting on the windowsill and then landing to peck on a little plate Prussia had left for them. Beside the plates there was a basket covered with pillows. A copy of the Grimm Brothers’ fairytales lay open there, as well.
“I just had the coolest idea, West! Since I decided to keep these little guys—”
“Wait, keep them?”
“— I’ve named them already. This one (the one that likes to sit on my head), I’ve named him Fritz, of course. This one’s Wagner and this little guy is Ludwig!”
“What?”
“Hey, don’t feel threatened. I just thought it would be fitting, seeing as he’s the smallest and pretty irritable when Wagner pecks hi...”
“Bruder,” Germany rubbed his temples again, “why did you bring these birds with you?”
Prussia stopped waving his hands and one of the birds (Ludwig, apparently) landed softly on his palm and chirped sweetly. The young man looked down and he petted the chick fondly. Wagner decided to sit on his shoulder while Fritz opted for the head.
“’Cause Blondie ate their mother...”
“Ah...” Germany continued looking at the strange quartet. The three birds seemed quite comfortable around his brother.
“Sorry, West...”
“Hm?” Somehow, the truck’s noise wasn’t so loud anymore and Italy was taking deep breaths to calm himself. At least, he wasn’t screaming and crying that he didn’t want to die.
“I just want to keep them until they become strong enough to fend for themselves. You know,” he looked straight at Germany and his eyes glinted with something Germany couldn’t quite describe, “like what I did with you, little brother.”
Germany remained silent. Italy sobbed softly with relief as he hugged him. The noise of the cars faded away.
Then, he closed his eyes as nostalgia swept over his body like a funerary shroud.
He heard the birds chirping.
“All right, but only if you promise to feed and take good care of them.” He said opening his eyes after what felt like an eternity.
Like a happy child allowed to eat cookies before dinner is served, Prussia whooped and thanked his brother and excitedly turning to the chicks and whispering how he would help them learn to fly properly, and to eat pasta on Thursdays, or to pester Blondie when she stole his spot on the couch, and other such things.
“Don’t worry, West! I’ve got everything under control!”
“Really?” Germany said, resting his back against the door’s frame. He looked a little dazed, even if the fever was going down.
“What’s with the tone, you! Anyway, look, here’s their food, and their bed, and some stories to I can read to them before they sleep. Remember when I used to read these to yo—”
“Bruder, you can’t feed them wursts and beer!”
Prussia stared at his brother for a moment, blinking. The three birds snuggled closer to him.
“You can’t?”
* * *
The afternoon went by with Germany explaining Prussia what chicks could and couldn’t eat. Prussia was saddened to note that ninety percent of his recipes were deemed as unsuitable but he was still determined to make “his kids” (as he started to call Fritz, Wagner, and Ludwig) lovers of hot cakes with an extra serving of maple syrup. By then, the heat of the day had been mostly forgotten and both brothers hardly noticed when the sky turned as black as ink and the first stars peeked from behind the buildings.
With a soft thud, Prussia closed the book and turned off the lamp that shed a soft light over the sleeping forms of Fritz, Wagner, and Ludwig, snuggled comfortably in their home-made nest beside their “father’s” bed.
At the food of Germany’s bed lay two of their three dogs: Otto and Dante. Blondie had preferred to climb Prussia’s bed and had slid between the covers, stealing the side of the bed her owner preferred.
Prussia turned towards his brother who was already snuggling between the sheets and grinned toothily at him. “Are you feeling better now, West?” His eyes glinted again with the sharp spark of affection.
Germany sighed in defeat, but the shadow of a smile flickered momentarily over his lips, and Prussia noticed.
“Yeah. Thanks... Sleep well, Bruder.”
“Night, West.” It wasn’t long after he had said goodnight to their dogs and his “kids” that snores came from Prussia’s direction.
A few minutes passed by in silence. Germany thumbed his cell phone and, blushing, tentatively pressed a button, sending a message that read:
“Gute Nacht, Italien. Ich liebe dich.”
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no subject
Date: 2009-10-19 12:52 pm (UTC)I was already dying of cute from the newest episode.
You just had to go and tug my heartstrings more, didn't you? D=
Such an adorable fic, and I loved how you showed the progression of Germany's headache :D
:] *happy authoress is happy*
Date: 2009-10-29 01:56 am (UTC)Thank you! Italy is always a lovely headache to write about ;).
no subject
Date: 2009-10-20 03:18 am (UTC)Goodness. I think I was hooked on after seeing Star Trek mentioned up there. And, ffff, the name of the chicks. How magnificently appropriate.
I very much liked how you described the day and how the dog and Prussia interacted each other.
Bromance is also A++ here.And then the bit of the end that seems to exude Germany/Italy is also very cute.Thank you so much for writing this. Made my day, really. :D
Star Trek owns you >:D
Date: 2009-10-29 01:54 am (UTC)I suppose Prussia enjoyed his short brainstorming session while he decided his "kids" names. I can totally see him wasting time like that thinking about it. He's just got that "big brother" complex as well, heh.
Heck, I couldn't write Germany without mentioning Italy, honestly. Guilty fangirl, indeed.
Thanks again and much hugs! *glomps*
no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 02:28 am (UTC)The chicks say "thank you"
Date: 2009-10-29 01:51 am (UTC)Hopefully both German bros weren't too OOC;;.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 06:37 am (UTC)Gilbert and Germany have such a special relationship. XD
A brief nitpick: " Sie" is formal and probably not something you would say to your boyfriend. " Ich liebe dich." is better.
Sorry!
<3
Date: 2009-10-29 01:50 am (UTC)Thank you very much for the correction. That word was actually bothering me a bit. I had always heard "dich" instead so when the dictionary said that I went like "huh?"
Anyway, thank you so much for enjoying this :].