Sepearation and Rekindling

To be separated from those you love...Is unbearable. But what if, there was the off chance of being able to rekindle an old friendship...?

Chapter 7: Speration and Rekindling

World War II had ended only a year before and just as everything seemed to be coming back together, there came the wall. Separating West from East. It kept Prussia from returning home and Hungary away from Austria. But at least, they had each other.

No matter how either would say they disliked the other, it was comforting that there was someone they could talk to while in Russia's house. It slightly lessened the tense atmosphere until of course, someone got in his away. Then of course, someone would always end up hurt, whether by his bare hands or with the pipe he carried.

Gilbert had noted that it was more than likely the reason Latvia never stopped shaking when Ivan was around. He was afraid of him, but then again so was everyone else in the house. Even he didn't look him in the eye. But it was impossible to avoid the guy. More than once he found himself locked away in the basement, for no reason he could think of.

It had happened again. The only light came through a couple small windows that were mostly blocked by the snow. He limped his way over to the wall, where he slid down to sit on the cold damp floor. Ivan had thrown him down the stairs pretty hard that time. He was pretty sure there would have a very large welt on his leg and a twisted ankle.

He didn't know how long he was down there before the door opened again. He set his face in a scowl, if it was Russia, he wasn't about to show that he was hurt. A little light filtered through the doorway and down the stairs, bathing the basement in a pale light. The light foot steps that came down were not Russia's. He wouldn't bother to be so careful, so as to shut the door behind him.

"Prussia?" called the very welcomed voice of Hungary. He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Hungary?" he asked, making sure. "Is that you?"

"Yes...Now where are you? I can't see very well in the dark," she said.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark. "Over by the wall to the right of the stairs," he replied, attempting to stand. Pain shot through his ankle and he slid back down the hall with a hiss of pain and annoyance.

"Are you okay?" she asked, finally finding him. She knelt down next to him.

"I'm fine," he lied, wincing as she touched his arm. The bruise from the other day still hurt.

"Quit lying. I was there when he kicked you down here," she said.

"Why are you down here anyways?" he asked.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," she replied, looking away from him.

"Hun- Elizabeta...Why would you even worry?" he asked, know really curious.

"I can't worry about friends?" she retorted.

Friends...The word seemed to echo through his head. "Since when have you really considered me a friend," he laughed, nervously. She might have that frying pan with her and that could hurt worse than Russia's pipe.

"I...Well...Since...Forever almost," she replied softly, placing her head on his shoulder.

"Has Ivan been hitting you with his pipe lately or something? You've always hated me...," he said, it sounded out of character for him, but her earlier statement...It surprised him.

"I don't hate you...I just hate it when you annoy Austria, or me...Because, well you're annoying!" she said. "If you stopped being so damn annoying all the time, I'm sure we could be good friends again..."

He found himself remembering back when they were little. During the time of the Crusaders and when they worked as allies. Sure they had their arguments, but they still got along. He couldn't remember when that had ended, just that it had.

"It would be nice...To be friends again. If we ever get out of here," he said.

"Don't be so negative. Russia can't keep us forever."

 

Sad songs floated through the air at the Austrian house. The lonely music seemed to give the once warm house a dreary feeling. Zuriel had noticed that Roderick hardly ever left the piano anymore. Without Hungary around, he wasn't the same. More than once he sang along with Roderick's piano playing which only seemed to make it worse. So he stopped.

He sat the tea down on the small table in the music room were Austria was once more playing his sad music. There wasn’t much he could do help him. And even though he didn’t really like the guy, Zuriel found himself missing the intrusions from Fabian. He sighed. Though, the war had left him will something to take care of. He had adopted a young girl, Aizaya. She was also an angel, though only a Virtue. Her father had been a good friend of his and left her in his care when he had gone to fight, her mother had died in childbirth.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tiny eight year-old peek around the corner into the music room. She too felt the sadness in the house and wanted to help. Zuriel gestures her to come in and she ran quietly over to him. He had given her the idea of her treating him like an older brother, rather than an uncle or family friend. Though, she had gotten herself into the habit of calling Austria, ‘Uncle Roderick’.

She sat down on the couch with him as they waited for him to finish the piece and join them for tea. There were already small cakes set out for eating and the tea cups sitting out perfectly. Of course, he was always sure to have some hot chocolate made for the younger angel who wasn’t too fond of any type of tea, just yet.

Roderick sat across from them, looking forlorn. Aizaya pouted and moved over to his couch and sat next to him. She didn’t like seeing either of them sad. He eyed her closely, before sighing and moving his arm so she could hug him. He was getting used to the procedure. Smiling softly, he said, "Thank you, Aizaya."

She smiled back, "You’re welcome."

Zuriel smiled over his tea cup. Thing were getting better. Only a couple weeks before, she had to forcefully move his arm and wrap her own arms around him until he stood and demanded she let go.

With their tea done, Roderick returned to the piano. This time though, Aizaya sat next to him on the bench.

"Teach me," she demanded. There was no asking in her tone.

 

Abisthine rolled over in her bed. She would get no sleep again.

She couldn’t stop worrying about Gilbert, though his brother Ludwig was in a much worse condition. Having his country torn in two was affecting him in ways she couldn’t begin to know or understand, yet she knew was happening.

She wanted to use the dream invasion thing, she still had no idea what it was called, but was worried about the previous attempt. Her only explanation was that her memories and his mixed together because they were so similar. She was worried doing it again may cause some serious damage to both of them.

Staring at the roof, she came to the conclusion that it was better if she did. Then she could Germany that he was alright and put him at ease, if he was alright, and she could rest easy.

 

He found himself dreaming about home, sitting in the living room, back at West’s house. He smiled, thought it was bittersweet. Across from him, on the other couch, sat Abisthine. She looked worried and tired. He understood that this was one of those dreams things again that she controlled or whatever. He talked to Ludwig about it after Abisthine entered his dream last time, before he had been captured by Ivan. His brother didn’t know much about it either and refused to say what had happened during their ‘encounter’.

"Abisthine?" he said, waving a hand in her direction.

"Hm? Oh sorry...," she said, looking to the floor. "I...I don’t want to stay long. After what happened last time...I’m worried something bad might happen...How are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow. What had happened last time, something had gone wrong? He hadn’t noticed. "I’m...doing alright," he lied, not wanting to worry her further, even in the dream his twisted ankle throbbed.

She shook her head. "You’re lying..," she said. "Whatever you think here, I can hear just as well as you say. Why would your ankle be twisted and what has happened that you have to lie? I really don’t want to delve into your memories, but if you won’t tell me...I will. If only to either calm my own worries and Ludwig’s or...I’ll come and get you if I have to!"

He cringed. Crossing the wall was impossible. "Look, Ivan’s just a little...rough..Okay," he said, exaggerating Russia’s childness. "He may have pushed me down a flight of stairs...But I’m fine. Really. Its just a twisted ankle." He laughed nervously.

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Gilbert...."

Then things started getting fuzy and blurred. Dark shadows appeared, though they weren’t people and weren’t menacing. Most looked like furniture and miscellaneous objects. In her world, he and Ludwig lived at her house. The dream he was in was Germany’s house, not hers. He began to recognize the shadows as objects and things from her house.

She noticed it too. "Well, crap. At this rate, you’ll be able to do these kinda of things too if I stay much longer."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked surprised, and letting in the hope that he might be able to haunt Ivan’s a*s with it.

"Our memories are very close. And by that I mean that the thing that have happened to us are quite similar. Though...I’ve been around much longer."

She was swaying slightly and she seemed to become one of the shadows as well. "Abi?" he said, reaching out to her. His hand passed right through her.

 

Everything around him became black, like a perpetual oblivion.

His own memory flashed before him. From his time as a Teutonic Knight, spent with a much younger Hungary, to the mere day before when he had finally been let out of the cool basement.

 

Then it changed and everything was replaced with something and someone else.

Author's Note

....Pfft...FINALLY....Now we're getting to the true paring of the whole damn thing. Prussia/Hungary... D8<
So much one sided Abisthine/Prussia...Poor her.