The poll I had posted on my page demanded I write PruCan next, so here we go! A whole, multi-chapter story of Prussia and Canada! Mind you, I don't think I'll be catching Prussia's personality as well, so I'll need a lot of criticism on how to make him more AWESOME and such. Thank you for your time.


I was in that room again, when everything was on fire. I could feel the throbbing pain in my leg from the chunk of wood. I looked down at my body, seeing my old blue pajamas that was sprinkled with fire trucks. I was yelling for help, tucked into the corner of the apartment room that wasn't my own. Everything was ablaze. Even the ceiling burned from the flames. I kept screaming, and I figured I was screaming for a fire fighter to come and save me, but I felt like that was wrong. I couldn't remember if it was true or not, so I went with logic. I could hear the boots of the firemen thundering up and down the hallways, and I screamed louder.

'Help!' me, 'Help' me, 'please!' I would scream, but my pleas went unheard by the phantoms on the other side of the door. The smoke was getting into my chest, and I started heaving for air.

'Please, someone help!' me.

I…. I don't want to die….


His body jerked, his chest arching into the air and his eyes bulging. His fingers dug into the sheets beneath him and his toes curled in tightly as he struggled to draw in a breath, but his diaphragm wouldn't obey. Finally, when he thought he was going to expire from the lack of oxygen, his lips parted and he sucked in the biggest gasping breath he could. Tears stung the corners of his eyes and his body relaxed. His chest was heaving as he panted, slowly recovering from the nightmare he had been having since he was a child.

When his frenzied gasps slowed into a relaxed breath, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his temple roughly. He hated that dream so much. He'd done almost everything to try and stop it from coming. He had gone three days without sleeping once, but right when he shut his eyes on the third night, he slipped into the horrible nightmare that was his childhood. He peeked over at the fluorescent clock on his nightstand, then groaned when the numbers read 2:30 AM. He knew he wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, so he forced himself up and into the bathroom in the hallway, twisting the knobs until a steady stream came down from the faucet above. As he waited for the water to become warm, he grabbed his cell phone from his bedroom, hidden under the pillows, and he slunk back into the bathroom, tossing a towel onto the counter and slipping out of his night pants. When he was naked, he stepped into the shower with his cell phone, ignoring the fact that it was getting drenched as he stood under the falling water.

He began dialing a number he knew by heart now, pressing the green call button and pressing the phone against his ear. The phone rang three times, and when it was about to ring a fourth, the other person picked up the phone and let out a tired sigh.

"Hello?" He mumbled, sniffing and sighing again. The caller ran his fingers through his damp hair and stayed silent, listening to the man on the other end grumbling from being woken up.

"Are you in the shower again? You ruined your last phone like this, you know!" The man scolded, and the caller chuckled lowly, closing his eyes and sighing.

"It's okay." He replied, and the other sighed again.

"So, what's the matter? Another dream?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to tell me about it this time?"

"No."

"Gilbert…." The man said sadly, and the albino could sense the pleading in his voice.

"I'm not going to." He repeated, turning in the shower to let the water hit his chest and heat up his body.

"Why do you call, then?"

"Because I need someone to talk to."

"Talk to your brother."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because he's my brother."

"So?"

"So, that'd be like talking to a wall. A wall with a face. They make those, you know. Really creepy, but it's pretty awesome at the same time. Oh, so I was on youtube the other day, and-"

"Gilbert, you're getting off topic again." The man interjected, and the albino groaned lightly.

"I don't want to talk to my brother." Gilbert punctuated, leaning against the cold tile wall and watching the steam float from his biceps.

"It might help you."

"It won't."

"How do you know?" Gilbert fell silent and he stared at the floor of the tub. The man on the other end waited patiently as Gilbert thought about whatever he was thinking about. The albino slowly slid down to a sitting position at the bottom of the tub, curling his legs to his chest and allowing the water to make a waterfall from his nose. He continued thinking about it silently, but found himself bored of thinking. He tilted his head back and let out a breathy but fake moan, making the man at the other end splutter nonsense.

"Gilbert, stop that!" The man scolded, but Gilbert let out another moan, smirking to himself from hearing his acquaintance stammer. "Dammit, boy, when I get out of jail-"

"Kesesese, come on, I'm just having a little fun." Gilbert interjected, not wanting to hear what this Frenchman might claim to do at the moment, "Hey, why are you in jail again?"

"I told you, tax fraud." The man replied, and Gilbert snorted.

"Tax fraud my ass. Tell me the real reason why you're in jail."

"Gilbert." The man said sternly, and the blond giggled to himself and hugged his knees. He always believed this stranger-but-not-so-much-of-a-stranger to have been put in jail for rape or molestation or something, since the guy would always relate things to sex or love.

"What kind of crappy jail are you in, anyway? Why'd they let you be a phone therapist person?" Gilbert questioned next, and the man sighed again.

"Well, these people like us to busy ourselves with jobs. I chose this job because I didn't think there would be much work." He muttered sourly, and Gilbert chuckled again. He knew he was one of the most frequent callers, on account of his dreams and sudden lapses in reality, but he also knew that he and this prisoner were on pretty good terms by now. Hell, the man told Gilbert to call him whenever. Which the albino happily did.

"Alright, well, you called because of your nightmare, so just talk to me about it." The man tried to coax out of the teenager, but Gilbert mocked him in a whiney voice in response.

"I'm not going to. I'm too awesome to talk about it." The platinum blond said stubbornly, running his fingers through his hair again. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the water pour down over his face as he did. When he opened his eyes again, he caught sight of a thick fog drift past his face, and his brain shut off completely. He started panting and gasping, and all he could see now were flames and smoke. The sound of heavy boots a distance away, and the shrill whining of the smoke alarm blaring.

"N-no…" Gilbert winced out, his leg throbbing, but he couldn't look down to see why. His eyes were trained on the door across the room that the flames danced around teasingly.

"…bert….."

"H-help…" Gilbert wheezed out, breaking out into a sweat as the flames grew higher and crawled closer.

"…ilbert…!"

Gilbert's eyes were wide as he watched the flames engulf the floor in front of him, reaching out far enough to tickle his toes and burn away the walls around him. He opened his mouth to let out a cry as the flames gripped onto his calves, his eyes squeezing shut from pain.

"GILBERT!" The man over the phone yelled, making red eyes snap open to find himself in the steamy shower he began in. He was still panting, but he was able to breathe much better now.

"Are you okay?" The voice rang out, panicked and hasty.

"Y-yeah…" Gilbert panted, looking around to make sure there were no fires around and no smoke coming from under the door. Then he swallowed hard, and began shaking his head, "No… no, I'm not alright… This isn't awesome…"

"I know, I know it's not awesome, Gilbert. Focus on your breathing. Remember what you were taught." The man instructed, and Gilbert nodded and took in a slow breath. He held it for a few seconds, then slowly let it out through his mouth. The man on the other end was mumbling soothing words as Gilbert breathed, and soon the albino found himself lightheaded and a little dizzy.

"Francis…" He muttered, and the man stopped talking, "I was in the apartment. It wasn't mine, and I don't remember how I got there, but I was sitting in the corner, and there were flames everywhere, and I was screaming and screaming but no one came. I could hear them going down the halls, too! They were just outside the door, and they couldn't hear me!" He said quickly, pulling himself out of the shower and wrapping the thick towel around him. He stumbled into his bedroom and threw himself on the bed, ditching the towel and instead tugging the comforter up and around his shoulders.

"Apartment? Flames? Is this your dream?" Francis asked carefully, and Gilbert was about to answer, but he stopped and thought about it. As he thought, he could hear Francis asking if the albino was still there, but he still didn't reply.

"Uh….." Gilbert muttered, letting his voice drag out, then he turned it into a laugh, "No, no, I was just reading from a book." He lied with a laugh in his voice, pulling the blankets over his head.

"But… you were in the shower." Francis tried reasoning, but Gilbert snorted at the comment.

"Come on, I take my phone in the shower, so I would also take books in the shower, too." Gilbert explained, and Francis let out a low sigh.

"Will you read me more of the book, then? It sounds interesting." Francis suggested, but Gilbert knew he was just trying to trick him into telling him more of the dream.

"Maybe some other time, I'm going to go back to bed." Gilbert replied lamely, rolling onto his back whilst under the blankets.

"We both know you won't be able to sleep any longer tonight." Francis noted, and Gilbert scoffed.

"How come you know so much about me, hmm?" Gilbert asked slyly, closing his eyes and holding the phone against his left ear.

"Because you call me almost every night." Francis replied frankly, and Gilbert laughed at how true it was.

"Only because you're a good fake therapist." Gilbert pointed out, and Francis chuckled this time. Then, Gilbert rolled onto his left side and trapped the phone between his ear and the pillow, "Now, why are you really in jail?"

"I'm not going to-" Francis stopped and thought about it, "Hmm… will you tell me part of your dreams if I tell you?"

Gilbert smirked, "Sure!" He said, but wasn't actually going to. He figured Francis knew this, and didn't expect it when the man let out an annoyed sigh and said, "I was jailed for attempted rape."

"Oh- I knew it!" Gilbert almost shrieked out, squirming under his sheets as he celebrated his success.

"Gil- ah, Gilbert, I was kidding!" Francis quickly said, cutting the blonde's dance break short and making the teen grumble.

"Oh, what? Unawesome." Gilbert whined, and Francis laughed loudly.

"Did you really think I would be caught for attempted rape?" Francis snorted out, and Gilbert raised a brow.

"Oh, so you have attempted to rape someone before, you just weren't caught?" Gilbert asked, and Francis started spluttering again.

"That's not what I meant!" Francis said quickly, and Gilbert chuckled to himself, happy he got a little piece of revenge. "I'm serious, though, I'm in here for tax fraud. You could ask one of the guards."

"Nah, I'll keep pretending you were jailed for the kidnap, rape, and murder of some teenage girl or something." Gilbert rejected the offer, getting a low chuckle out of the inmate. They continued talking about possible reasons for Francis to have been jailed, and after a while, Gilbert heard the faint sound of a shower being turned on. He frowned and checked the time.

"Oh, man, it's six already? I have to go, I only get free minutes until six thirty." Gilbert said, and Francis made a noise of agreement.

"Hey, when you call me back, I want to hear some of your dreams, okay?" Francis tried, but Gilbert just laughed and hung up, shoving his phone under the pillow and closing his eyes, forcing his breath to be slow and relaxed to pretend he was sleeping. He knew his brother's timing on everything, and just like every other morning, Ludwig quietly opened the door and peeked in, grunting softly when he saw his brother 'sleeping'. The door closed again, and Gilbert cracked an eye open.

He dug under his pillows and tugged his phone out, checking the calendar to find it was November 23rd. Tomorrow was an important day for the albino, and soon it'd be an important day for the rest of the family too. Gilbert sat up in his bed, locking his phone and placing it on the nightstand. Then, he stood and started dressing himself, throwing on a comfortable black t-shirt and some purple jeans. Ludwig called them skinny jeans, but Gilbert didn't think so. They were just… nicely fitted, that's all.

When he heard his brother get out of the shower, Gilbert quickly fixed his hair, then padded down the hallway and into the kitchen, digging through the refrigerator for a quick breakfast of bread and butter. As he swiped the wheat bread through the deep tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!, Ludwig quickly walked down the hall, turning the corner to spot his thin and older brother stuffing the slice into his mouth and run for the door. Ludwig chased after him, trying to reach the door first, but Gilbert had the advantage, and he was already down the street by the time Ludwig got to the exit.

"Damn, that was close!" Gilbert chortled to himself, peeking over his shoulder and panting, looking at the house at the other end of the street that he had just exited out of. He and his brother did this every morning, and he knew Ludwig hated it, but what else was Gilbert to do? Sit there and let the blond interrogate him day after day? He'd much rather be trapped in the cage of a polar bear than sit with his brother for ten minutes.

The albino walked down the empty streets silently, admiring the sky as the sun slowly drifted to the treetops, breaching the edges of the houses to shine its glory on the world. By the time the rest of the citizens of this quaint town awoke, Gilbert arrived at his best friend's house, trotting up to the front door and knocking loudly. He took a step back, waiting impatiently on the porch as he heard a woman yell out in Spanish and a man yell in return.

"Ay dios mío, yo se, mamá, yo se!" The voice yelled out, and soon the locks on the door jiggled and clicked as they were unlocked. When the door swung open, Gilbert was greeted by a skinny brunette teen his age with shining green eyes and a bored expression on his face.

"Finally! Let's go!" The brunette sighed out, grabbing Gilbert's arm and tugging him away from the house, slamming the door closed.

"Family issues?" Gilbert snorted, and other nodded his head, looking completely worn out.

"Mi madre is always telling me what to do! Antonio, lava los platos! Antonio, hace tu cama! Antonio, lava el gato! Antonio, Antonio, Antonio! On and on and on!" Antonio complained, stomping his feet and speaking in a shrill, high-pitched voice to mimic his mother. Gilbert just laughed and walked beside the Spaniard, watching him mock his mother.

"Well, how have you been lately, amigo? You look tired." Antonio asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and frowning, "Talk to your hermano at all?"

"No way, definitely not." Gilbert chuckled, shaking his head and putting his hands behind his head as he walked down the sidewalk, "I've been avoiding him like the plague!"

"You really shouldn't, you know." Antonio sighed, and Gilbert shrugged and kept walking.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He retorted flatly, making the Spaniard narrow his eyes and cross his arms.

"Que dices? I know enough about family deaths to know that tu y tu hermano really need some time to talk!" Antonio scolded, but Gilbert rolled his eyes at him, then gave him his winning smile.

"He'll be fine! That guy's built like a rock!" The albino proclaimed, thumping a fist against his puffed out chest to emphasize his point.

"Any rock will roll if their father was the one who died." Antonio muttered, and Gilbert's smile died on his lips, and he slouched over again as he walked, sticking his hands in his pockets. They stayed silent as they walked, and soon they reached a small Mexican restaurant, where Antonio worked.

"I'm not going to force you to talk to your brother, but I really think you should." Antonio finally said, putting his hands on his hips, "Who knows? Maybe you'll feel better afterwards." With that said, the brunette turned and pushed through the doors, entering in a chorus of 'Hola!'s and 'bienvenido!'

Gilbert sighed to himself, then continued walking, heading for his own place of work. He worked at a horribly placed magazine and newspaper stand. The only reason why he decided to take the job was because he knew he wouldn't get many customers. The only people who came to purchase anything were either small children looking for some candy, or older gentlemen, interested in the newspapers that they really shouldn't be making anymore. When he arrived at the run-down cardboard-looking stand, he dug out his keys and pushed open the door in the side, stepping in and locking himself inside.

"The awesome me is here!" He called out in the small four by two foot area, obviously getting no response in return. He just patted the chair that rested in the far end of the stand, then organized the shelves, and finally opened the window where he sold the different items. He plopped down in his seat, digging his phone out of his pockets and flipping it open to find two messages. One was from Antonio, and the other was from Ludwig.

'I'll bring some tacos and tortas over during lunch, so don't go anywhere.' Antonio sent him, making the albino smile and his stomach grumbled impatiently.

'Whatever the fuck a torta is, it better be awesome and delicious!' Gilbert sent back happily, chuckling to himself. Then he checked his brother's message, his smile dying as he opened it.

'We need to talk.' Was all Ludwig sent him, and the albino groaned and rolled his head back. He really didn't want to talk to his brother at the moment. Their ways of dealing with death were so different, and he knew that was what they would end up talking about. He let out a sigh and looked back at his buzzing phone, seeing a new message from Antonio.

'Torta! A sandwich? It's muy bueno!' the text read, and Gilbert snorted.

"You better-o bring-o me-o some-o horchata, too!" He sent back immediately, teasing his Spanish friend playfully. He didn't get a quick response like usual, so he put his phone on the counter in front of the register and leaned back in his seat, letting out a comfortable sigh.

People started walking by as the sun went up, and Gilbert just watched them lazily, checking his phone for the time and to see if he had gotten any messages from Antonio. Soon, when the sun was almost at the highest point, there was knocking on the door. Gilbert smiled and unlocked the metal door, swinging it open for his tanned friend.

"Lo siento, el jefe told me to put the phone away." Antonio apologized, placing the bag of food on the counter along with a chilled plastic cup of horchata.

"Your boss is definitely unawesome." Gilbert snorted out, snatching the horchata and slurping down the contents. "Gott, why do you Latinos get delicious drinks? The only god-like drink we Germans have is beer!"

Antonio simply rolled his eyes and plopped down on the counter which was still quite uncomfortable, since it only supported half of his ass. He pulled the bag on his lap and pulled out two Styrofoam containers, opening one, then passing it to the albino who was trying to drown himself in the rice-milk drink.

"Here's your torta." Antonio said, getting a confused look from Gilbert as he grabbed the container. The Spaniard sighed and rolled his eyes again, "Your sandwich!" He clarified, and Gilbert nodded and flipped open the top, looking in to see thick bread filled with steaming red meat.

"Wow, this looks heavy! Awesome, it weighs as much as my bird!" Gilbert snorted, picking up the dripping sandwich and taking a huge bite out of it. Because of the size, though, it seemed as if only a miniscule amount of sandwich had been bitten off.

"You still have a bird? I thought it would be dead by now!" Antonio admitted with wide eyes as he dug into his own sandwich.

"What? Why would the awesome me kill my bird?" Gilbert snorted, shoving more food into his mouth, but his jaw simply couldn't open any wider.

"Well, you never feed it, amigo." Antonio pointed out, and Gilbert thought about it and shrugged.

"You know, it might be dead. I don't hear it chirping as often…" Gilbert reflected, leaning back in his chair and humming, "Well, it was an awesome bird. I'll bury it when I get home."

"Whoa! Oh, uh, I don't think you need to bury it anymore." Antonio nearly choked, a surprised look on his face. Gilbert arched a curious brow, but he kept his smile.

"Really? Why is that?" Gilbert asked with interest, forcing more sandwich down his throat as he watched Antonio's bewildered face.

"Well, your bird…. It's on your shoulder." The Spaniard pointed out, lifting his finger to point at the little yellow bird that was happily nestled on its owner's shoulder. Gilbert looked down, his own surprised face showing through.

"So it is! Awesome, I knew you were a clever little bird!" Gilbert chuckled, wiggling his finger at the peeping bird, making it nibble lightly on his finger. Antonio chuckled lightly and shook his head in disbelief. Gilbert begun feeding the bird some of the meat from the sandwich.

"Are you sure he should be eating that?" Antonio questioned, and the albino shrugged honestly and chuckled.

"He likes it, so it must mean its okay." Gilbert reasoned, feeding the bird some more. The yellow puff of feathers tweeted happily, fluttering up and perching itself in the nest of silver hair. Antonio's phone began buzzing, and the Spaniard groaned and flipped the red Verizon brand open, clicking a few buttons before scanning over the screen with bored eyes.

"Dios, you should really start talking to your hermano! He's starting to text me now!" Antonio whined, holding up the phone to Gilbert's scrunched up face, letting the albino read the text.

'I know you're with my brother, or at least should be with him, so tell him we need to talk.' The message read, and red eyes rolled.

"Ignore him." Gilbert waved the question away, turning his attention back to his pet bird.

"If I ignore him, he'll keep texting me! I'm going to tell him I'll talk to you about it." Antonio sighed, holding the phone close to his face and replying to Ludwig. Gilbert just huffed and sunk back in his chair, watching people walk by his stand with a cold eye. They ate in silence, Antonio constantly texting one person or another.

"Hey, I'm going to head back to work now, before mi jefe finds out I left. I'll see you later, okay?" Antonio said, hopping off the miniature counter and tossing his Styrofoam container in the small trash bin under said counter.

"I'll see you after work." Gilbert replied with a yawn, moving his hands behind his head and almost knocking his bird off in the process. The beast squawked angrily, fluttering its wings to keep its balance, giving the albino a rough peck to his crown.

Gilbert just ignored the bird, staring out to the street, eyes gliding over the almost empty roads and the old and crumbling buildings. He knew the one just across from his was a business of some sort, and the tall, rusted looking building to the left of it was an apartment complex, but the rest of the architecture didn't seem to register.

As he looked around, he saw a boy with blond hair dressed in a brown jumper and some blue jeans stepping onto the sidewalk, a bag slung across his chest and over his shoulder as he walked. He was far away, but he was definitely a looker. Gilbert tilted his head, trying to think if he saw this kid before. He didn't go to school anymore, so he wouldn't know if this kid was new or not.

The blond soon left Gilbert's sight, and he grew bored of thinking about him. He went back to his half-eaten sandwich, wolfing down the rest of it. He fed a decent amount to his bird, too, and soon the both of them were face down on the counter, filled to the brim and in need of a long nap.

Gilbert groaned and lifted his head, just to check the time on his digital wrist-watch. It was already six, so he could close up shop without getting yelled at. The last thing he needed was to get fired from the only thing that kept him away from Ludwig during the day. As he closed up shop, he whipped out his cell phone to alert his Spanish friend that he would be coming by to pick him up. His bird was sleeping on the top of the albino's head, almost snoring as it snoozed.

Gilbert hurried over to the restaurant, reaching the double glass doors just as the sun sank below the houses. Antonio stepped out of the restaurant with a black backpack slug across his shoulder, and he smiled at his friend.

"To my house, or are we going out tonight?" Antonio asked, winking at the man who walked beside him. Gilbert's brows raised, and he tilted his head to look at the bag. He returned Antonio's smirk, and the Spaniard quickly dug through his bag and tossed a purple can of spray paint at the blond.

"Just one condition. We have to tag a particular wall with the restaurant's logo." Antonio brought up, making his partner in crime groan.

"There's always a condition! How unawesome!" He complained, but they headed off anyway, tagging wall after wall with their personal insignias. Antonio's was a big, red tomato with his country's coat of arms in the background. Gilbert's insignia was a black eagle with its wings spread, a crown floating above its head and a sword and staff in its claws. This was their only time to relax, and they would take as long as they needed.


Yeah, so please help me figure out how to make Gilbert more Gilbert-ish.