The World We Lost

Disease

In which Sadik finally understands the meaning of agony.

Day six (number 1) of rare pair week – It's History/AU Day. Obviously went with history. Normally, I'd jump at the chance to do an AU, but like, I saw TurGre wasn't on the ban list and I couldn't resist some Ottoman history. Basically just a trashy historical oneshot that's probably terribly inaccurate (even though I spent most of the day researching oops). I apologize. Sick Man Of Europe; Sadik is forces to watch as everything he cares about is ripped straight from his hands. As usual, I had something or another on repeat; Scarborough Fair [Simon and Garfunkel], Implicit Demand For Proof [Twenty One Pilots], It Took Me By Surprise [Maria Mena] (this one definitely goes with this particular oneshot the most), I Come With Knives [IAMX], aaand Arms Of A Thief [Iron and Wine]. There may or may not be influences from some of said songs in this. XD Um... Human names mostly, but occasionally country names, and I mostly just focused on the countries that are in Hetalia whom were at one time or another part of the Ottoman Empire (Hungary, Romania, Greece, Egypt, Ukraine, Bulgaria, Moldova, etc). I wanted to write some angst so here we go. I was tempted to make this into like a mini fanfic so here we go, it might just become one depending on when I can be bothered with it. The title of this first chapter is a play on "Sick Man Of Europe."

---

For the first time in a long time, it is silent.

Sadik stands at the window; he keeps listening for something he knows he isn't going to hear. He keeps waiting to hear laughter or arguments or the soft sound of someone trying to sneak past his study and forgetting about the one floorboard that always creaks. It's directly in front of the door, he knows, and he's never bothered to fix it. He knows he won't hear it, but that doesn't stop a part of him from hoping.

It's funny, he thinks, feeling the tip of Mouth Athos press into the small of his back – Heracles is the only one who constantly avoided that board. Sadik is almost expecting it, so he doesn't really react when Heracles' cross presses into his back. He lifts his chin to watch the fading colors in the evening sky.

"Are you afraid to die?" Heracles asks, voice carefully flat.

Sadik knows Heracles is suppressing something. "I'm not," he tells him shortly, holding himself as proudly as ever.

It isn't a lie; Sadik does not fear death. If he falls with the empire he has created, then that's simply how it is. They are not humans who come and go, but nations and empires that live knowing that one day, they will inevitably fall. He turns and Heracles backpedals a few steps, watching him through haunting emerald eyes. Sadik pretends not to notice how the Grecian's grip on Mouth Athos briefly clenches, but he sees the way Heracles holds the cross so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He watches the Grecian from behind his mask. The man is all tension, harsh eyes riddled with determination.

"Are you going to leave me, too?"

Heracles doesn't hesitate. "I am. Will you try to stop me?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"I see," says Heracles, lowering his cross.

His voice is quiet, a change from the howls of battle that Sadik is now accustomed to. Sadik watches Heracles wordlessly, simply observing as the Grecian moves around the study that none of them were ever allowed into. Sadik keeps his private things here, his favorite things, but this doesn't feel like any sort of invasion of privacy to him. Heracles isn't really looking; his eyes just sort of skim over everything.

Staring at the Grecian's back, Sadik wonders when Heracles became a man.

"Do you remember how happy we used to be?" Sadik dares to ask.