PruAus: Time

Prologue

An unquenched yearning for his love, longing as his heart falls behind, as his memory begins to dissipate, as his vision blurs. Oh how he wished he could see that beautiful smile once more, to stare into those gleaming violet eyes. He struggles for breath, chokes back the sobs. He looks up at the heavens, dying was so easy. Yet as he was slowly fulfilling the dreams of the nations worldwide, he cannot help but regret. After they dreamed of death so much it felt more like a memory, he never expected it to end this quick. His brother's screams fall deaf to his ears, he sees Francis turn away. He watches everything crumble, watches the world spin. Until the last words he hears are from his beloved. Gilbert can't help but smile.

Brought back to the bright field, Gilbert makes his way through the grassy meadows of the fair summer morning. The sun bathes him in its beams, soft grass brushing against his ankles. He whistles softly while he watches the exchange below, chuckling quietly.

"I am the awesome Teutonic Knights of course!" He mouthes along with his younger self who screams for all the world to hear. He watches the younger brunnette shake his head, heaving a sigh.

"Austria." He breathes in a whisper as the boy spoke, he breathes in the moment of their first meeting, he can remember the thoughts that had swam through his younger brain, the thoughts that lingered along with him until now. Those stunning, piercing violet eyes, gentle composure and smile. He was the most beautiful person Prussia had ever seen. The way the cool spring breeze brushed against his chocolate brown hair, how he adjusted the glasses that were too big for him. Oh how Gilbert had fallen on the spot.

He reminds Austria everyday, he relished every moment spent with the nation. He holds him close, giving him the security he had lacked throughout the centuries of existence. He kisses the scars he had collected, cringing at those he himself had inflicted upon his beloved Prince.

His heart ripped as he was dragged away from Austria's bedside, cold running through his veins as he lost the warmth of Austria's hand. He needed to be by his side, needed to hold him tight as the nightmares returned, as he screamed for the people he had lost. Gott his precious Prince was fragile, no matter how powerful he is, he still cannot take what was going to happen. He couldn't-

Prussia felt himself drowning, he felt himself gasping for breath as he shot up. His first instinct was to lunge out of whatever he was laying on and run to Austria, yet, he realised. How was he not dead? He looked down at his trembling hands before taking a hesitant gulp. He was transparent. Like an empty glass being. He saw the burning red numbers bruised onto his wrist.

"50"

He turned at the sound of voices, where the hell was he? He heard the sound of rain thud against the roof, he covered his head out of instinct then realised, he was just a ghost. He walked towards the crowd, hoping someone might see him, yet he stops, halting in the rain as he sees his own body in a coffin. Prussia shook his head, muttering curses beneath his breath. He was dead. He was gone. Yet there he stood, at his own funeral.

He did not move, he stood in the middle of the downpour along with the weeping nations who attended his funeral, he stood unnoticed, unseen. Words blending together into senseless whispers until a gentle, broken voice filled the air. He could not comprehend what Austria was saying, could not understand what he was trying to announce, all he saw were the tear stains running along his delicate, pale skin. He watched him stare at the crowd, with an expression that broke Prussia's heart. He tried to reach him, as he passed through the crowd towards the podium where Austria had his own corpse were situated. Without a word, he tried to hold his precious Prince only to pass straight through him, to end up holding himself. Austria shivered, before taking a final glance at the corpse.

Why? Why was there a fifty burnt onto his wrist? Why couldn't he hold Austria close? Why couldn't he just return to the barren sunlit field, why couldn't he just return to the moments he had when he was still alive?

The service ended with the nations trotting away slowly. Trudging through the mud in a deathly silence, as Prussia strayed behind them, watching Austria's umbrella shaking before Germany and Italy comforted him. Prussia felt as though his stomach was an ice cube before a voice rang behind him.

"Holy shit and I thought you were dead." Prussia turned to meet the blue green eyed owner of the voice, breath catching in his throat. "This another prank of your Beilschmidt? I swear I saw you die."

The Prussian plastered a sinister smirk on his lips, "Why? Did you cry for me Vash?" He practically spat the name. Switzerland scoffed, "why would I, Gilbert?"

Oh why in the world did he have to be the only one who could see him?

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A/N
Yay first half-assed PruAus fic that is gonna take a long time to finish... Rip. But first story of this account so yeah.

-Kiku