Our Parents as Enemies (RusGer)

Chapter 21

Writing a Christmas chapter in May? Please, I need the excitement again lol, even though most of it is in Ger-money's POV lol. Also sorry, another long chapter because I am on a SPREE TONIGHT BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

WARNING: Gerbear collapsing, Third Reich saying mean shit. 

--Germany's POV--

I walked out of my bedroom, not being able to sleep again as I positioned my suitcase by the door of the dorm. I didn't check whether Russia was back as I made myself another coffee and sat down, sipping at it whilst I scribbled nonsense on a notepad I kept on the same desk. It was completely filled with my night-time thoughts and it was my third notebook at this point. I finished off the sketch, cursing as my pen ran out of ink, and I decided to get up and take a walk, perhaps having a smoke whilst I was at it. I hadn't had one in a few weeks now but . It was still a little sore and awkward to walk on my prosthetic, and I had to bring a cane with me just in case the leg buckled. I found it extremely annoying, and as I walked down the streets I could hear my father's voice still ring in my head.

Was ist los, hat mein sohn angst vor seinem vater? Oder hat er angst vor bestrafung? Weil du jetzt eine menge strafe brauchst! Zu dieser nichtsnutzigen schule rennen und dann ein bein verlieren, nachdem ich ihm eine angemessene strafe gegeben habe? ((What's the matter, is my son afraid of his father? Or is he afraid of punishment? Because you need a fuck ton of punishment right now! Running off to that good-for-nothing school, and then to lose a leg after I give him suitable punishment?))

I felt nausious, and had to dip into an alleyway before leaning against the wall. I shoved my hands into my pockets to stop myself from trembling, but it didn't help, even as I squeezed my legs through my shorts to try and keep myself together.

Andererseits verdient jeder krüppel eine gute strafe, besonders wenn dieser krüppel mein sohn ist! Und was denkst du, was du tust, wenn du mit der familie der UdSSR rumhängst? Sie sind ein haufen festgefahrener, nichtsnutziger kommunistischer stiche, die männer ficken und kinder schneller haben, als sie sie rausholen können! ((Then again, any cripple deserves a good punishment, especially if that cripple is my son! And what do you think you're doing, hanging around with the USSR's family? They're a bunch of stuck up, good for nothing, communist pricks that fuck men and have children faster than they can get them out!))

I felt myself sliding down the wall and didn't bother to keep myself up again, being too weak for some reason to stand back up. I didn't understand why, but once I hit the floor I just sat there for a good while, breathing irregularly and trembling hard. I had gripped my knees and was not letting go. I heard footsteps, and in confusion, thinking they were my fathers, I curled up into a tight ball. I heard more and let out a quiet whimper, in my state of illusion thinking that he had escaped the underground prison that they had put him into.

--Russia's POV--

I laughed with others as we all wobbled along the walk path. Since it was the final night, the teachers allowed us to get hammered since we weren't going to be doing anything the next morning anyway whilst everyone was directed to the trains, class at a time. I leaned against Finland as we both started to drunkenly yell/scream/sing some song, both of our languages clashing against each other in a weird mix of Russian and Finnish. I heard America yell and couldn't be bothered to look at what he was yelling about until he yanked my arm and made us go down a side street, where I think Canada was. Canada? Why was here here? And why was Poland with him? Or was that Indonesia? Water was repeatedly splashed in my face by someone, and I sobered up enough to stop seeing double and just stare at the country on the floor.