How to Save a Life [Prussia/Germany]

[Prussia]

The smell of blood and death was overwhelming; it made Gilbert sick to his stomach. No matter what direction the Prussian nation looked in, more bodies would add themselves to the already ridiculously high count in his head and the feeling in his chest would clench painfully. As much as he enjoyed fighting and winning the wars his country entered, the thrill of battle would only last as long as the fight went on, after that, he was forced to stare at the after effects of all that had happened in the face. Each time he stared at the lifeless bodies of all the humans who had fought, regardless of sides, always made the void that had formed inside of him just a little larger. It didn't matter if one was old or young, in war, only the strongest survived, and as well as he knew that, the current crimson painting that coated the battlefield never seemed justified.

"Hilfen... Wehren... Heilen..." he muttered quietly, a wry smile gracing his lips as he turned and glanced over the field once more. "Ahahaha, where does that come into play here?" Is this what my Order really become? A force of death masked as a great nation? The dark thoughts were quickly pushed aside as a shadow passed overhead, causing Prussia flinch faintly as he looked skyward. "Ah... Maria*..."

Crimson eyes followed with ease as the form of a large black eagle swept over the field, eyes gleaming. Every few minutes, a soft cry would fill the air before the bird would turn and fly to a different portion of the blood stained grass. Gilbert couldn't say he expected for himself or his ever-loyal pet to find any survivors, but the morals he'd followed when still only the Teutonic Order were still there, buried or otherwise, and they reminded him that if there was a life to be saved, it was worth the try. "Doesn't look like she's found anything, either." Prussia scoffed, shaking his head. "Like there would be in this hell pit. It--" The rest of his sentence was lost as the eagle above let out a loud, triumphant cry and dived toward the ground, making Gilbert pivot where he stood. "No way..."

Sprinting toward the black form of Maria on the ground, the albino slid to a stop, nearing tripping over the leg of a fallen soldier as he jumped to avoid a particularly deep puddle of blood that had formed where the ground could absorb no more. His eyes could only widen in shock as the bird let out a second cry and poked at a small figure in tattered clothes in front of it, prodding her beak into the figure's back. If the conditions had been any different, Prussia would have scolded her for disrespecting the dead, but he almost let out a triumphant cry himself when he was quite sure he saw whoever it was twitch.

Are they alive...? he thought, moving forward to kneel beside the figure with baited breathe. He knew better than to get his hopes up, especially for a fallen fighter on the battle field. While his country had wonderful doctors, none of them were miracle workers and such acts were better left to the hands of God. Hope and fate were cruel mistresses and rarely helped those who begged for it, all he could do was pray that maybe, just maybe, someone else might hear his pleas.

Reaching out, he gently took the figure's shoulder in a stained-gloved hand and turned then, nearly reeling back as a hat rolled a few inches away and revealed a familiar site of blond hair. "Scheiße..." he murmured, feeling his stomach drop yet again. "Heiliges Römisches Reich... What the hell did we drag you in to?" Something caught itself in Gilbert's throat and he turned away, inhaling through his mouth slowly as he tried to ignore the iron-like taste of the air. He'd never wanted his little brother to be dragged into this mess. He was still a young nation, and didn't need to see the full effects of war. It had never helped Prussia grow up faster, and it was likely one of the main factors in his somewhat necrotic behavior. He had seen too much too early, and now an innocent nation who just wanted to stand on it's own was being forced to see the same... though from the looks of it, it appeared more like it was being punished for trying.

With a quiet sigh, Prussia turned back to the smaller nation and shook him gently, eyes narrowed in concentration as he waited for a reaction. "Hey, kid... Can you hear me? Make a noise if you're alive." Come on, let him say something, anything... He doesn't deserve this shit.

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A/N: * - Named after the St. Maria Order, not Maria Theresa.
** - Hetalia canon says that Prussia was the elder brother of the HRE "and" Germany, which is one of the motivating factors in the "Germany is the HRE" theory. Just throwing this out there for thread stalkers or for anyone who wants to know.
*** - Assuming the above theory, I'm guessing this would be the point where the HRE "becomes" the beginnings of Germany and therefore lacks quite a few memories...? I guess it's up to you in the end though, West.
**** - This was also a big long ramble. I apologize. It wasn't even that -good- of a ramble. Beh.

[Germany]

Black. Everything was black, he could hear screams and various shouts in some garbled language, however no bodies were attached to those voices going off in his head. Or...was it really happening, but he favored simply keeping his eyes closed and acting as if he wasn't there. Like some kind of inanimate object or a corpse who could feel nothing and do nothing.


Eyes slowly opened, revealing a battlefield to his sight; an abandoned one at that. Although it looked as if whatever had taken place here had ended not too long ago. The smell of the dead was there, yes, but that was simply to be expected. It was common sense. Whatever had happened here, it looked as if both sides had suffered casualties, he couldn't make out who was who or what side they had been on, it all meshed together in one giant blur of mass destruction.


A pain in the back of his head brought the small blond nation back to the reality of what had landed him here. There was a war; obviously...and he had gotten quite a nice knock to the head...and then nothing. He couldn't remember anything before that, only the battle and panic as his soldiers fell around him while he could only watch; helpless.


The young boy sat up slightly, lifting a tiny hand to feel the lump on the back of his head. Bringing it back, he noticed a light staining of blood on his palm, so the hit had been as hard as he had thought. Not enough to kill him, but enough to keep him out for several hours it seemed. He must have been one of the lucky ones, the other side must had seen him on the ground with this large gash and pronounced him dead.


A large eagle was circling overhead, the boy squinting up to look at it. Was the animal scavenging? No...it was headed towards him, very quickly in fact. Large blue eyes stared at the black bird and its own golden eyes stared back before letting out a loud shriek, causing his hands to automatically cover his ears from the splitting noise.


Removing them, he heard a voice not too far away, then footsteps almost immediately accompanying it. In a panic the blond fell back on the ground, acting as dead as he had looked before. It could be a friend, however what if it was an enemy coming to finish off the job they had overlooked while the last battle had taken place. And that bird...it was pecking him now! He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore the painful jabs to his back just as whoever this man was reached his body.


Something was being mumbled...something he couldn't exactly understand. It was in his language, of that much he was almost positive, other than that though, everything sounded like it was being mushed together, much like the sight when he had first come back to consciousness.


Shaking now, and more words being spoken; this time directly to him. This person seemed to be trustworthy, at least for the moment. There was no hostility in his voice, no threatening nature in his words. Everything sounded calm and gentle, like a mother comforting her child. Still...no matter how nice a man could sound, it could always be a trap. But at the same time, what good would it do him to continue this game of playing dead only to be left on an old war ground to starve and his aching head wound to become infected?


Taking a silent breath, he opened his eyes for the second time; lifting his head up to look into the face of whoever it was who had come to his aid. "I...I'm alive." The young boy muttered, taking a sitting position once more. He had put his faith in the odds, hopefully it would work in his favor or his fate was already sealed.

[Prussia]

Relief washed over the Prussian's face as the young boy he was hovering over sit up. One less body to bury was as good as thousands in Gilbert's book, especially if they were a nation. Watching the death of his grandfather had been bad enough, but to see his little brother die again so soon after (soon for a nation, anyway) would have done little for his already unbalanced mental state. Thank God...

Beside him on the ground, Maria let out another cry and began tugging at the small boy's sleeve with her break as she flapped her wings. The movement would have made the albino laugh if the situation wasn't so serious, but the bizarre gesture to help the young nation stand up was cute in it's own way. "Glad your okay, kid," he said, brushing the bird back as he muttered something soft in German that eagle to click her beak in faint annoyance before pulling away. "You're a fuckin' mess, though. Think you can walk on your own or do you need carried?"

A quick glance around the battlefield told him that no doctor's were present, and it had to be the first time in the Prussian nation's life that he was truly annoyed with their lack of presence. Normally, he would have been pleased to know that they were off fussing over someone else instead of himself, but it was only karma that the one time he would actually want one that they wouldn't appear. "Damn medics..." he muttered, shaking his head in disapproval before turning back to the boy. He was by no means a miracle worker, but he was decent in the field of medical skills; after all, that's what the Order had been all about. "Nothing broken, ja? No daggers anywhere I can't see?"
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A/N: Shitty post is shitty.