Takes place a little bit before Human Curiosity,
During the Human Year.
Gilbert walked down the streets, very, very annoyed. Why was he stuck with the most unawesome Elizabeta and Roderich ever? He bet there were more awesome people out there, that were likewise called Elizabeta or Roderich, and those guys were way more awesome than the Elizabeta and Roderich he knew. (Did that make sense? At all? Well, if you didn't understand, you simply aren't awesome)
Sometimes Gilbert wondered if he, in his life before the Thames, had anything to do with Elizabeta and Roderich. He highly doubted it, since he wouldn't waste his awesome self on people like them.
No, he'd go off and be friends with someone else, someone awesome, like uh... Uh...
A Spaniard and a Frenchman?
Hell yeah! Like a Spaniard and a Frenchman!
Either way, it'd still be way more awesome than being with those two! All the stuff the three of them could do! Partying, girls, awesome dares, girls, pranks, girls...
Gilbert paused and looked up at the clear, star-filled skies.
Why was he now depressed? Why did he randomly feel sad? He always felt sad at random moments...
Well no. He always started feeling sad if he started thinking too much. This meant, that he needed to stop thinking so much. Being sad was not awesome.
Gilbert sighed and continued walking, his thoughts returning to Elizaveta and Roderich in their past lives.
As said, he doubted he'd known them before waking up in hospital. Sure they were all found in the Thames, but that didn't mean that they had to know each other. Maybe they were deadly enemies that accidentally fell into the Thames together, trying to kill the other, like with Sherlock and Moriarty.
Yeah. Or Roderich was drowning, so Gilbert, who didn't know him, epically jumped into the river to save him, followed by Roderich's (at the time) gf, Elizabeta.
There were so many sort of lives the three could have led before that day. Too bad none of them seemed to be true.
No one came looking for them. No one knew who they were. Their names weren't registered anywhere. The police questioned them for some time, but eventually gave up.
... Gilbert had been so sure that someone would come looking for him. A younger brother or something like that...
No one ever came.
At some point, they were discharged and pretty soon, they were living on the streets, starving, dirty... Hungry...
That is, until it turned out that Roderich was quite good at music. It was with Roderich's busking and eventual job that the three finally got a home and a warm bed and regular meals and ...
Gilbert's head shot up, having heard something.
Was that groaning noise?
And from where?
He continued walking.
There was that noise again. This time it sounded more like... Crying.
Gilbert stayed absolutely still. Using his hearing alone, he tried to locate the weeping person.
He eventually found a bar, with a young, blonde man sitting at its steps, head in his hands, crying quietly. The man looked like he was an orderly, clean and formal kind of guy, that always tried to keep up his appearance and was always in control. The kind of man Gilbert would refer to as "unawesome".
But this dude was a complete mess. His hair was disheveled, his shirt half-tucked, tie loosened... And where was his other shoe?
Gilbert cautiously approached him.
"Hey, you alright?" Gilbert asked.
The reply was slurred and mumbled. Gilbert knelt down in front of the other and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You, you alright?"
Gilbert noticed the alcoholic smell coming from the man. Gilbert lifted the guy's head, to get a better look.
The stranger was probably younger than him. He had pale blue eyes, and thick black bags beneath them. His eyes were also red from crying.
"... You shouldn't be out and about, alone at this time of night. Not unless you're awesome. Like me." Gilbert lectured. He then tried to help the guy get to his feet. The man looked at him confused and seemed to try and focus on him, but couldn't.
"Let's see who you are." Gilbert muttered, noticing a wallet helpfully poking out of the man's inner coat pocket.
His name was Ludwig Beilschmidt, and he lived in Berlin. But they were currently in Frankfurt... Mr Ludwig here must be in a hotel somewhere. Basing his opinion on how Ludwig looked, Gilbert assumed he'd have some kind of evidence on where he was currently staying in his wallet.
And he was correct. Mr Ludwig did. There was a hotel key card in the wallet.
"Come on, I'll take you home." Gilbert said, placing one of Ludwig's arms around his neck to steady him and help him walk.
"You know, you seem pretty unawesome, but you have the same surname as me... So I guess you can't be so bad." Gilbert commented, as he walked down the streets, steadying the other.
He looked down to Ludwig, who was leaning against his shoulder.
Ludwig had fallen asleep.
Germany woke up, only to discover his head hurt like hell.
He sat up.
He was in his hotel room. Alone.
He didn't know how he got back home. But he knew he shouldn't drink like that for a while again.
He lay back down and closed his eyes.
He had had the strangest dream... Like... He had been kicked out a bar, but then dragged home by Prussia, who had seen him and tried to help him in his own... peculiar... way.
Germany sighed and closed his eyes. No, it couldn't have been real.
Just his imagination.
Prussia was gone, like everyone else.
It just simply couldn't be.
Short one-shot. Kinda real stressed and busy, so sorry for putting this on hiatus and not updating etc.
Updates will probably still be slow, but uh... Yeah. Just enjoy every update that comes along. And thank you for still supporting this. . I personally would have given up by now...