Hetalia 1p Meets 2p

Germany & Prussia

Ludwig Beilschmidt sat up and stretched.

"WESSSSST!!!" His albino older brother, Gilbert, yelled from the kitchen. Germany rolled his eyes. The one morning Prussian idiot was up earlier than him, he was annoying him. The German stood and walked to the kitchen, only to find Prussia lying on the couch.

"What do you want, Gilbert?" Ludwig asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Get the awesssome me a can a beer," Gilbert slurred, no doubt already drunk, as there was a six pack beside him. Ludwig wondered how Gil could down an entire six pack in ten minutes, then shook the thought from his head. It was Prussia. The guy was a master drinker.

Ludwig heaved a sigh then walked to the fridge and pulled out a second six pack for his lazy brother. He'd probably down it too then meet with his friends, Antonio and Francis, later that afternoon and plot to jump Eliza in her sleep.

"Lizzzzzzie," Gilbert called. "Eliiiiiiizzzaaaa!" He sang, his voice slurred and drunken. Elizabeta was Hungary, the girl of Gil's dreams. She found him odd, and tried to stay away from him, but his idiot brother always followed her around, then usually came home beaten up. Nobody follows Hungary and sees the sun the next day. She usually carried a Sig Sauer or a machete in her belt, and always had a twenty-pound brick on the end of a chain with her. She could pack punch for someone of her size. She was a tomboy. Ludwig rubbed his shoulder upon remembering her beatings.

"Lizzzzzzz--" Gil was cut off in mid-tune by a knock on the door. The Prussia jumped up with surprising agility for a drunken man and bounded to the door with Ludwig close behind. Gilbert flung the door open, and the two Germans jumped back upon seeing who was at their doorstep.

An albino who looked exactly like Gilbert was standing in the doorway. He was wearing black sweats, a black hoodie with the hood up and Ludwig caught the glint of the knife he was holding in his hand. Ludwig growled slightly and gripped a pistol behind his back. The sad looking albino looked exactly like Prussia, but their personalities were completely different. Ludwig looked at the second man, and his eyes flew open. He was staring at himself. This man looked exactly like him. Black leather jacket, military hat, tight cargo pants and black boots. His blonde hair was slicked back, and the only difference was the large scar running across his cheek.

The Ludwig lookalike stood tall in front of the Gilbert lookalike, and he'd growl if anyone came close to himself or his brother. Ludwig and Gilbert were appalled. They were staring at their counterparts.

The Ludwig lookalike pushed past Ludwig, the Gilbert lookalike trailing behind, and both men collapsed on the couch. The German brothers looked at each other, then at their lookalikes, then back at each other, looks of shock on their faces.

"I'm dreamin', west. I dreaming, right bruder?" Gilbert asked Ludwig. "Imma passed out in an alleyway, and I needa wakey up. Right, west?" Gilbert shook Ludwig's arm. Ludwig shook his head slowly, still taking in what was going on. He pulled himself out of his brother's grip and walked over to the lookalikes. The Ludwig lookalike was falling asleep. The Gilbert lookalike was crying, holding his knife to his neck and biting his lip, repeating "do it, do it, freeze." Over and over again.

Ludwig looked at his lookalike. "Who might you be?" He barked. Was this some kind of trick?

His lookalike sleepily opened his eyes and looked at Ludwig. "We're you. You're us. We're your 2ps. Lookalikes. Counterparts. Parallels. We're the exact opposites of you two." He looked back and forth between Gilbert and Ludwig. "Pleased to meet ya, now lemme fall asleep." He closed his eyes again and snored. Ludwig frowned. Counterparts? Parallels. These two must have come from a parallel universe, and were their opposite nations. 2p. 2p. 2p. Ludwig rolled the word over in his mouth. Odd. Different. Did all the countries have 2ps? He decided to call off the World Meeting that was scheduled for that day. He called texted every country a message saying that odd opposite versions of themselves would be meeting them, and that the world meeting was cancelled. He instantly got texts back from quite a few countries saying that their lookalikes had arrived at their houses, and they called themselves "2ps".

Ludwig looked at his 2p, asleep on the couch. Lazy ass. He shook him awake again, his icy cold blue eyes staring straight into his 2p's. "Wake UP!" He barked, and his lazy counterpart yelped and jumped, wide awake. "Who are you?" Ludwig hissed in his 2p's ear.

"I told you, I'm your counterpart, your parallel version, a second you. Call me Lutz. That's your 2p name. You're Ludwig, I'm Lutz." He fell asleep again. Ludwig sighed. A second him? Lutz? What the hell.

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Gilbert knew who this guy was; kind of. A "2p" was how he explained it. They were opposites. Parallels. His counterpart, his..."2p". "Who are you?" He asked his 2p.

"I-I'm...y-you...your c-counterpart. W-we lived in a parallel world, n-now we're h-here. I'm Gilen, y-your opposite version. I am what you aren't," he choked out in between sobs.

"Man, why're you crying?" Gilbert asked Gilen, his 2p. He pulled Gilen up, and looked into his eyes. The two albinos stared into each others equally blood red eyes.

"I-I-I...everyone hates me!" Gilen burst into tears again. "Nobody wants me," he wailed, putting the knife to his throat again. "It'd be b-better if I was g-gone."

Ahh, so this was Gil's opposite. A sad, suicidal man, that didn't take anyone's advice but his own, and he was isolated, shut out from the world, lonely and depressed. He probably hadn't even heard the word awesome.

Gilbert slid the knife from his 2p's hands, his grip on it loose as he was lying sideways, dissolving in tears. Gil pulled Wolfgang back up and hugged him. Gilen cried into Gilbert's shoulder. "D-do y-y-you like me...?" he asked. "Do you think I-I'm...'awesome?'"

Gil hesitated. "Of course you are," he replied, hugging his depressed, sullen counterpart tighter, "and don't you ever forget it."

Gilbert slid Gilen's knife under the carpet, hoping the poor guy wouldn't notice.