Oneshots of Whatever (mainly Countryhumans) (Finished-ish)

87 - Don't Do It *Third*🇩🇪

Fluffy incest warning

He was shaking. Completely-rational anxiety flowed through his veins. Heavy boots thundered through his bunker.

But he didn't dare let his son see he was scared.

He sung a soft lullaby, rubbing Germany's back softly. Germany was half asleep, holding onto Third's hand tightly.

The door burst open, but Third put his finger to his lips, shushing Soviet and his troops. Germany's eyes opened slightly, but Third kissed his forehead, bringing him to the bed and telling him to sleep. He slipped his Iron Cross into his jacket, whispering softly into his son's ear.

"Don't forget about me," he said. "Ich liebe dich."

Germany nodded, turning to his side and falling asleep.

"Don't hurt him," Third said in a hushed voice. He held his wrists out to Soviet, "Take me, not him." Soviet handcuffed him and dragged him away.

Far away.
—
How long has it been? Days? Months? Years? I didn't know. I had been chained up in this basement for God knows how long, many privileges revoked.

My walking privileges, as the chains held me down, and metal spikes through my legs and arms.
My talking privileges, thanks to a thick, metal sheet chained to my mouth.
My fidgeting privileges, as Soviet didn't believe me when I said I had ADHD.

I hadn't seen the sun in so long, let alone my son. No one had come down in a long time. A really long time. I wanted to redeem myself, and be free.

God, I hate the word.

Free.

Something I could never be.

I tried the shift my position, but that caused the metal spikes to dig into my muscle, and the chains to tighten. I had grown numb to the dull feeling of pain.

There was a strip of orange light that penetrated the dull greys of the basement. I flinched, the chains rattling.

Soviet was coming.

But he hadn't in a long time.

Someone said something in Russian, but it wasn't Soviet. No, Soviet had a deeper voice, more authority. This one was still deep, but unsure.

"Go down already, you bug baby!" A voice I vaguely recognized said.

Then, someone came running down the stairs, a flashlight in hand. They looked around, before landing on me.

The light shone into my eyes, making me recoil and close my eyes.

"Get down here, Russia," they said.

"What?" The Russian-sounding voice asked, standing beside the other one. "Jesus Christ... Is that why dad didn't want us down here?"

"I think so..."

I opened my eyes slightly and looked at them. America and... someone. Fear poured through my body like molten lava, making me recoil more and whimper.

"We have to help him!" America said, shoving the flashlight to the other one before running to me.

Quickly, he undid all the chains, cutting them from the metal spikes so he didn't have to pull them out. Gently, he took off the metal mouthpiece, picking up me bridal-style.

My mouth was very dry.

"Come on!" America said, quickly moving up the stairs. Light poured into my vision, making me squint and hiss. "Guys, we found him downstairs," America said, placing me somewhere soft. "We have to help!"