We Don't Care (Gerpol)

Chapter 23

Poland's P.O.V.

Germany placed a plate of so-called "pancakes" in front of me. "Eat up!" He said cheerfully.

With a quick sniff, I picked up one of them with my fingers. It felt soft and squishy and smelled SO good, it should be illegal for it to smell this amazing.

The other watched with a strange expression. "Um...don't you eat with a fork?"

"Hm?"

"A fork."

I dropped the pancake. "What is of that?"

"It's something you- oh nevermind. As long as you're happy."

I shrugged, continued to stuff the breakfast in my mouth. Holy crap, soooo good.

Germany grabbed his own plate, settling down across from me. His table was beautifully carved and polished, the wood curving elegantly into depictions of leaves, trees, and flowers.

I started to trace them with my finger. "So," Germany said, and I flitted my eyes upward, not moving my head.

"I guess you'll have to get home soon."

I thought of Lithuania and Slovakia, how they were happy together, how they didn't need me anymore, and how I had hurt my own brother.

I leaned back in my seat, suddenly uninterested in the pancakes. "No," I mumbled.

The German gave me a puzzled look. "Why not? It's your family, surely they must be worried about you?"

I bit my lip. I couldn't possibly explain my reason for not wanting to go back. He wouldn't understand.

"It's okay, you can tell me." He said, as if reading my mind.

There was a pause. I decided to go back to touching the wooden table. Eventually Germany gave up, taking his empty plate to the sink.

"Well, if you want you can come with me to the store. I'm running our of bee- I mean breakfast food, and we just need to restock in general."

When there was no response from me, he added "Plus we can get some pierogi ingredients..."

__________________________

Germany pulls into the parking lot in front of the grocery store, the front of the store buzzing with people and countries alike. I stepped out with Germany, reaching for his hand.

He takes mine and looks up with a quizzical expression. "Hold hands when of cross street," I say, repeating the words Poppa had told me.

He looked like he wanted to laugh, but only smiled with amusement and looked forward. A slight blush had made it's way onto his tri-colored face.

The glass doors slid open, allowing us entry. I still held tight to his hand, and thankfully Germany didn't question it.
"Hm... Austria likes the Apfelstrudl..."

He started picking out apples while I looked around.
The store was large, with high ceilings and twisting air conditioning units. Speakers played distant music in the background.
It was cold near the produce aisle, the chilly air hitting my face relentlessly. I shivered.

Germany must have felt it, because he turned to face me. "Sorry to keep you waiting, it is a little chilly. You can grab the pierogi ingredients if you want."
I nodded, letting go of his hand and walking to the next aisle. There was bread from around the world, with nuts, raisins, berries, and even jelly.

I went to the next one, still no luck. A few more went by and I started to get anxious.
This wasn't normally the store I went to. Why was it so big? Where was the cheese???
I chew on my finger, looking around nervously. I wasn't lost, right? No, that would be stupid.
I try to retrace my steps, but ended up somewhere with clothes.

I want to cry. Where was Germany?
Why had he left me? No, I left him. I got myself lost.

Maybe I should wait. Germany would find me eventually, right?
I plop down on the floor, bopping my head to the music playing above me. Some people pass by, giving me weird looks. But none of them are Germany.

A few moments later, what looked like a worker was carrying some clothes. She was putting them away in a rack when he eyes rest on me.

"Oh, little boy, are you lost?"
I nod my head, suddenly becoming very sad. "Yes."
"Here, come with me. We'll find your parents, don't worry."

She leads me over to a checkout lane with a microphone. Leaning into it, she says over the PA "There is a little boy who goes by the name of Polska in checkout lane 4. He has a brown sweater over a collared shirt and is lost. If you are his family or know them, please come to lane 4."
She repeated the message, the placed the microphone back in the holder.

The lady rubbed my shoulder with one hand. "It's okay, I'm sure they'll be here soon."
At this point I was getting really overwhelmed, a few stray tears slipping down my face. My white fingertips caught them before they could stain my sweater.

It was only about 1 minute before Germany comes rushing to the cash register holding a bag of apples in one hand and a giant pack of toilet paper in the other. The basket was somehow balanced between the two items.
He locked eyes with me. "Polen!" Placing down the items, he rushed over to me, engulfing us in a hug.

He pulled back, holding me at arms' length, then looked at the worker. "Thank you so much, Miss."

She laughed. "Kids will be kids."

I stared at her. I am not a child!

"Maybe we should get a cart," Germany says, his voice muffled by the toilet paper. I walk back to the front, pushing one over to him. He drops the items in it gratefully.

"I'll be right back, I'm just gonna go put the basket back."
I watched him walk away, one of my hands gripping the side of the cart. Then I climb into it.

Germany returns with a look of bewilderment. I turn to face the front, shifting into a cross-legged position. Once again, neither one of us speaks. It's something I can be reassured with, the fact that he won't question what I do or why I do it. Much unlike some people I know.

____________________

We're pulling back into Germany's driveway before I know it, the truck full of groceries and most importantly, pierogi ingredients.

We both enter the house with our arms full of bags. And yet...
...something seems off.

I go outside to get more with Germany, and soon we have all of them inside.
"We're home," He says, but it sounds strained.

There is no response.

"Hello?" Germany starts walking around the house, his footsteps getting quicker and quicker the more rooms he checks. "Austria???"

I start to search too. "Henlo?" I lift up the pillows on the couch. Maybe this is a game of hide and seek. Lithuania and I always played that when we were younger.

There's a gasp from the hallway. I rush over to Germany. Who's stuck in a daze, staring at the floor. Confused, I look down.

A white bow rests on the floor.
Austria's bow.
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H i
Two chapters in two days yeet
Well I was laying in my bed awake one night and I thought of this really good plot twist so I'm trying to type before I forget it
Anyway, have a good day/night ( uwu)/❤️