The Blindfolded Dancer (ThirdUnion) (Back?)

Chapter Five

[Shortly After Midnight]
[Third Person]

Reich was laying in bed, but he didn't dare sleep. Not only was Soviet in his house but he knew Britain would keep his word. And if what Soviet had said was true.. well, he didn't want to lose his son. But sure enough, about a half hour after the clock struck midnight, a shriek could be heard from downstairs.

He jumped out of bed, running easily down the stairs and pausing at the bottom as he heard the ever so recognizable sound of a gun clicking. "Don't. Fucking. Move. I'll shoot the god damn boy." Britain snarled, glaring at Reich. Reich was, oddly enough, calm. He crossed his arms and sighed, shaking his head. "Tsk tsk Britain.. you're quite bold aren't you?"

Britain raised an eyebrow, unseen by the blindfolded man in front of him. "What the fuck are you talking about." He snapped, glaring at Reich. Reich, however, simply chuckled. "You never learn. You forget.. you have more than one enemy in this house." He snapped, and a single gunshot rang out.

Soviet had shot the gun out of Britain's hands, earning a cry of pain from the British man as he crippled to the ground. Germany ran into Reich's open arms, quickly being wrapped in his wings. "You're alright Deutschland... you're okay.." He mumbled against his sons hair, relieved.

Soviet collected Britain's gun, tossing it into Reich's open hands. "This should be a treat to you. It's vintage." He glared at Britain as he spoke, and Reich rolled the gun in his hands thoughtfully. "Mm.. this will be a nice addition to my collection." He murmured, firing off the round in the chamber before sliding the gun into his back pocket.

Britain was still laying on the floor. After all, he couldn't exactly get up with a boot pressing his skull into the floor. Reich quietly shooed Germany upstairs before turning his head in the general direction of the men in front of him. "You truly are an idiot Britain." Reich snapped, shaking his head and leaning against the railing.

Britain spit blood against the smooth black tile of the floor, glaring up at the pair. "You'll fucking pay for this." He snapped, making Reich outright laugh. "Oh sure. We'll both pay a truly heavy price won't we? Like we haven't already?" He snapped back. Britain continued to glare at him. "You let this brute stay after he took your sight? He did it out of cold blood!" He shouted, earning a flinch from Soviet.

Reich, however, was unamused by his antics. "Sowjet is an asshole, yes, but he's still better than you are." He hissed. Soviet looked up, eyes widening a bit. Reich simply shook his head. "Sowjet don't look at me like I know you are with those stupid wide eyes. At least you aren't bugging me for a fucking alliance every waking moment of your existence." He snapped. He was not having it tonight.

Britain took this opportunity in stride. "No, maybe not an alliance. But isn't he pestering you for a marriage Reich?" He hissed. Soviet pressed his boot harder against his skull earning a feeble laugh from the British man. "Oh please! Look at you getting all angry when I bring it up? You're obsessed with him!" He cried out, grinning like a maniac.

Reich had finally had enough. "Would you shut the fuck up?!" He shouted, earning both sets of eyes on him. "You're so fucking annoying! Just fuck off and leave me alone." He hissed, motioning for Soviet to chuck him out. He complied, giving him a firm punch to the face before doing so.

The front door was locked, sealed, and then the rest of the doors and windows were checked. Soviet returned to the front room to find Reich sitting on the steps, angry red tears streaking his face. He moved to comfort him before a hand was put up.

"Leave me the fuck alone and go home. I don't need your comfort." He snapped, motioning to the door. Soviet sighed. "Alright.. What time shall I bring the children around?" He questioned. Reich flinched before sighing. "I don't know- around noon?" He snapped. He was still pissed. Soviet realized this, and nodded again, humming a quick 'thanks' before leaving.

Reich sat on the steps for some time before the gentle footsteps of Germany padded down the stairs and sat next to him. "Mutter-? Are you alright?" He questioned quietly, worried. Reich simply nodded, pulling Germany into his arms and sighing. "I'm glad you're alright Deutschland." He murmured, rubbing his sons hair.

Germany smiled softly, hugging his mother. "I honestly thought I was a goner. I didn't know USSR was still here..-" He trailed off, noticing how Reich tensed at his name. "Did something happen Mutter-? Did he hurt you?" He was even more worried as the two red tear trails grew, sliding down his face.

Reich sighed. "He didn't hurt me Deutschland. I'm just.. stressed." He sighed again, standing and tugging Germany to his feet with him. "Go get some rest. I need some myself.. It's going to be a long day tomorrow." He huffed, walking up the steps. He wobbled a little, gripping the railing.

Germany, however, was confused. "Long day-? Are we having visitors Mutter?" He asked, eyes brightening a little. Reich turned his head, nodding. "Sowjet is bringing his children for you to see tomorrow. Now go rest." He made it clear the conversation was over by walking up the stairs and to his room, closing the door a little roughly.

He sat on the edge of his bed, pulling out the gun from his back pocket and running his fingers over it quietly. He knew what make model and year this gun was, because it had been his own during the war. It seemed Britain had taken it as a 'spoil of war' thinking Reich wouldn't notice because he could no longer see. It explained why Soviet had tossed it to him.

He shook his head. He didn't want to think of Soviet right now. He was stressed, and rubbed at the red tear trails angerly. Why did he have to show up at the worst times to be helpful?! Then again.. he wouldn't have been able to deal with Britain himself. He may have a shit ton of guns, but he wasn't used to aiming towards the simple heartbeat yet.

He especially didn't want to think of what would of happened if he had been holding a gun, and had aimed at that heartbeat. What if he had shot Germany? He would never forgive himself. Soviet soon re-entered his thoughts, and he once again shook his head, laying down after placing the gun in a safe spot and attempting to sleep.

Oh Soviet you bastard.. what are you doing to me..?