Forbidden And Forsaken

19

Tw: violence, suicide attempt

Unfortunately for Prussia, Monarchist France talked the entire train ride. Even worse, it was the same complaints about her child over and over again.

"And he's just delusional! Dressing in drag and making a mockery of me!" She ranted the exact same line for the fourth time.

Prussia could barely contain his growing annoyance, "...yes, that must be... difficult."

Thankfully, the train was beginning to slow as they reached their station. She finally quieted as she prepared to get off.

Prussia blinked blearily as he entered out into the bright midday sunlight. He looked around at the crowded station for his next and final train.

"Oh, Dietrich! Won't you be a dear and help me to my next train," France looped her arm in his.

"No, I cannot," he bared his teeth at her in a false grin, tugging his arm back.

She frowned and before she could complain he ran across the platform, losing each other in the crowd. He smirked to himself.

Quickly thereafter, he found his train. It was much bigger than the previous one and just as packed. He grumbled as he was forced to sit in between two other passengers.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked up to find someone familiar walking down the aisle. Or at least he thought the man was familiar, as he paid him no mind and sat behind him.

He couldn't help the jittering of his nerves, the feeling that he could be caught at any moment and the unfamiliarity of everything. Since he had been resurrected, this was the fourth time he had been in public and the first he had been on his own.

He didn't understand the fashion people wore. He didn't understand the strange boxes they placed themselves in to get place to place. He didn't even recognize much of the language anymore. With a tightening of his chest, he realized that for the first time since he was a child, he was completely and utterly alone.

He tried desperately to calm himself, mainly so he didn't draw the attention of other passengers. Soon he wouldn't be alone. Soon he would have Brandenburg by his side once more. He would be fine.

The passengers beside him gave him strange looks but he paid them no mind, focused on controlling his breathing. For a while, it worked. He calmed down. Somewhat.

Negative thoughts continued to flood his mind. He poured over every interaction he had with his beloved before his death. What had he done wrong? Had he even done anything? Was Germany lying?

He covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Of course Germany lied to him! How foolish he was to trust this stranger. How did he even know for certain that they were related in the first place?

Before he knew it, his train was coming to a stop in Potsdam. Excitement took over as he bounced in his seat. He would finally see Brandenburg again!

As soon as the doors opened, he rushed out of them. He took in a few of the familiar sites of the city as he ran down the streets, not caring if anyone stared.

Soon he reached the old palace where Brandenburg used to take up residence. Or so he thought.

"Closed for repairs?" He read the sign aloud. Who was it closed to? Brandenburg never let the general public inside his home. Had he kicked out the nobles? How extensive could the repairs be?

A hand gripped painfully onto his shoulder. He whipped around, knife drawn.

"Dietrich, do not make a scene," he was met with the familiar and unhappy face of Germany.