Ludwig was there to hold the hair out of his face as he wretched into the toilet bowl. If he hadn't been feeling so sick, he would have laughed at the familiarity of the situation. Or cried. So maybe it was better that all he could do was throw up.
When he was done, Ludwig passed him a glass of water before drawing away politely to the opposite corner of the bathroom.
"I blame you," he announced once the taste of acid and bile had left his mouth, sitting on the bathroom floor, half-leaning against the toilet. He had no right to, really, because he was the one who'd jumped Ludwig, and he was the one who was too impatient to use protection, but saying it made him feel a little better because he wouldn't have to remember why he'd gone for West in the first place.
"We only did it once," protested Ludwig, not looking in his direction. "How can you be so sure?"
Francis pulled himself onto his feet and took one step before nearly falling. He found himself caught up in a strong pair of arms and reflected that Ludwig looked a whole lot better without that air of arrogant cruelty.
"If you weren't sure, why would you be here?" he countered, whispering right next to the man's reddening ear.
Ludwig didn't reply, setting him carefully on his feet and drawing back once he was sure that he could stand on his own. Francis watched as those blue eyes flicked alternately from his abdomen, still hidden under his clothes, to the floor, and basically everywhere but his face.
"Are you really pregnant?" asked Ludwig finally, desperately, and Francis understood, sneering inwardly, because West was still seeing Veneziano and something like this would, no doubt, precipitate a quarrel between the lovebirds.
"Why would I lie to you?" he replied darkly, feeling the slightest hint of satisfaction as Ludwig winced at the memory of a similar conversation from a long time ago. "Do you want to touch it to make sure?" He sidled up to Ludwig, forcing the man to look at him as he took one of the man's hands and laid it against the bulge under his shirt. The bare hand felt warm against his skin and Ludwig's eyes slid shut, as if he was in pain.
The hand on his abdomen was drawn away, coming to rest instead on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation beside his cheek. Ludwig's other hand joined his first, though he made no move to push Francis away again. Blue eyes met blue and Francis felt his stomach twist uncomfortably when he saw the glimmer of tears in Ludwig's eyes.
"What..." Ludwig's voice cracked. "What are you planning to do... this time?"
Francis flinched, but stood his ground, keeping Ludwig between him and the bathroom wall. It wasn't something they'd ever spoken about before: there had never been an appropriate time to bring it up. Even now, he could tell that Ludwig was trying to avoid talking about it, but... but if not now, then when? There had been no one he could tell, no one he could talk to, all through the years ever since the end of the war. Not about that.
And now, now when they were on talking terms again, when they were in the same situation again... ah, but no, it wasn't the same, was it? Not for Ludwig.
"I guess it's a little inconvenient for the both of us, hm?," said Francis keeping his tone light. "People will start asking questions and you already have a lover, so I think the best option would be just to get rid of it."
"NEIN!"
A shocked cry left his lips at the force of the denial, but the fingers digging into his shoulders kept him from leaping back. Images flashed through his mind, memories of the time he'd spent under Germany's rule and...
He was being hugged fiercely, tightly. Desperately.
"You can't. You can't be thinking of doing it again." Ludwig's voice was low, beside his ear. "Francis...you can't."
Again?
"Ludwig?" He felt giddy all of a sudden, and angry, and sad, and the humiliation and the guilt and it felt like he was going to just implode from the weight of everything. "Ludwig, it's the simplest solution."
Anon is quietly imploding in her seat at the moment, and loves you madly for continuing to cater to her recent France/Germany cravings. Oh my god. And the parallels--I fucking loved the way you laid out the parallels and the contrasts. Beautiful work as always.
Oh god I can't wait for more this is lasj;lkj;ljkf;alsjdjfdjf
"That was what he told me when we built the ovens."
There was a sharp crack when Ludwig's head hit the tiled wall. Francis's fists were still clenched as he took a step back, shaking with rage. "Don't you dare!" he spat, barely able to put the words together in his head. "Don't..."
"I'm sorry," whispered Ludwig. "That was uncalled for." Those blue eyes glanced up at him, beseeching. "But I don't think I can stand by knowing that you are planning to terminate another child."
Another? Planning? "What gave you the idea... that I... had that child aborted?" His voice was eerily flat and calm, and sounded so distant to his own ears that he wondered if he spoke at all. He wished he hadn't, because confusion was flickering across Ludwig's face and he was going to have to explain himself and he would have to remember...
...legs. Legs kicking, arms beating, rifle butts. Knives. Girls weeping, weeping and weeping, their beautiful long locks scattered across the ground, hacked off, shaven, shamed. Yelling. Traitors, collaborators, whores...
"I didn't... I didn't want... I didn't want to..."
...pain. Pain exploding across his belly. Screaming, screaming because they didn't know, he couldn't, wouldn't blame them, because it was right. It was wrong. It was anger, relief, retribution. It was Germany's child, it was...
It was his.
"Francis?" Ludwig was approaching him, concern overriding the horror apparent in those blue eyes, reaching out, but hesitating, as if afraid that a single touch would break him.
It didn't even take that much.
The floor rushed up to meet him, but Ludwig got there first, and his last thought as blackness crawled into his vision was that it was good he wasn't going to land on his front.
Oh shit. Oh shit Ludwig you went there. I was wondering about the line "it's the simplest solution" in the previous part; so it was a reference. dfljsfd oh god
And fffff of all things an mpreg fic making me look up more details on the Nazi occupation of France. References to les tondues! Historical tie-ins! This continues to be a fascinating read; will be sitting here F5'ing like a mofo. /o
I ended up looking up the details of the Nazi occupation of France because of this fic too. *coughs* I must confess, though, that wiki has been my main source of information...
Ah, I'm inspiration? *blushes furiously* It's the first time I'm writing this pair, actually. I would love to see what you're writing when you're done!
Ludwig was there, smiling at him from the doorway. He smiled back briefly before both they were both distracted by the little child running for the door, calling for his vati. It was so precious, seeing the two of them at the doorway framed by light. Ludwig picked up the child as he walked toward them and the child waved happily at him.
And the child saluted him, because Ludwig was whispering in his ear, and putting that red arm-band around his arm, and Ludwig's eyes were steel again, smiling like poison and death. He wanted to go forward, to grab his child, to take him away, but his feet were bound, his hands were bound and the child smiled with Germany's smile.
And the child laughed, putting his small arms around his papa as he babbled on about how he was helping vati make wurst and they could all eat together. He held the child tightly, wrinkling his nose at the mention of Ludwig's favourite 'food', but he was happy, so happy that his child was happy and they were all together and Ludwig was calling for them to come back into the house.
Ludwig was silent as he was being taken away and Arthur was kissing him, telling him that he was finally free again, and he wanted to tell his child the good news. Good news, your vati will be alright, we're not killing him, he can come back when he's done repenting, but he couldn't find him. He couldn't find the boy.
The nurses were telling him, you were pretty beat up, the war must have been hard on you, Monsieur France and he was sitting in a hospital bed, hugging his knees, his hair too short to cover his eyes as he cried and cried for the child that he couldn't bring into the world.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Crossing that Thin Line [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-15 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)Ludwig was there to hold the hair out of his face as he wretched into the toilet bowl. If he hadn't been feeling so sick, he would have laughed at the familiarity of the situation. Or cried. So maybe it was better that all he could do was throw up.
When he was done, Ludwig passed him a glass of water before drawing away politely to the opposite corner of the bathroom.
"I blame you," he announced once the taste of acid and bile had left his mouth, sitting on the bathroom floor, half-leaning against the toilet. He had no right to, really, because he was the one who'd jumped Ludwig, and he was the one who was too impatient to use protection, but saying it made him feel a little better because he wouldn't have to remember why he'd gone for West in the first place.
"We only did it once," protested Ludwig, not looking in his direction. "How can you be so sure?"
Francis pulled himself onto his feet and took one step before nearly falling. He found himself caught up in a strong pair of arms and reflected that Ludwig looked a whole lot better without that air of arrogant cruelty.
"If you weren't sure, why would you be here?" he countered, whispering right next to the man's reddening ear.
Ludwig didn't reply, setting him carefully on his feet and drawing back once he was sure that he could stand on his own. Francis watched as those blue eyes flicked alternately from his abdomen, still hidden under his clothes, to the floor, and basically everywhere but his face.
"Are you really pregnant?" asked Ludwig finally, desperately, and Francis understood, sneering inwardly, because West was still seeing Veneziano and something like this would, no doubt, precipitate a quarrel between the lovebirds.
"Why would I lie to you?" he replied darkly, feeling the slightest hint of satisfaction as Ludwig winced at the memory of a similar conversation from a long time ago. "Do you want to touch it to make sure?" He sidled up to Ludwig, forcing the man to look at him as he took one of the man's hands and laid it against the bulge under his shirt. The bare hand felt warm against his skin and Ludwig's eyes slid shut, as if he was in pain.
The hand on his abdomen was drawn away, coming to rest instead on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation beside his cheek. Ludwig's other hand joined his first, though he made no move to push Francis away again. Blue eyes met blue and Francis felt his stomach twist uncomfortably when he saw the glimmer of tears in Ludwig's eyes.
"What..." Ludwig's voice cracked. "What are you planning to do... this time?"
Francis flinched, but stood his ground, keeping Ludwig between him and the bathroom wall. It wasn't something they'd ever spoken about before: there had never been an appropriate time to bring it up. Even now, he could tell that Ludwig was trying to avoid talking about it, but... but if not now, then when? There had been no one he could tell, no one he could talk to, all through the years ever since the end of the war. Not about that.
And now, now when they were on talking terms again, when they were in the same situation again... ah, but no, it wasn't the same, was it? Not for Ludwig.
"I guess it's a little inconvenient for the both of us, hm?," said Francis keeping his tone light. "People will start asking questions and you already have a lover, so I think the best option would be just to get rid of it."
"NEIN!"
A shocked cry left his lips at the force of the denial, but the fingers digging into his shoulders kept him from leaping back. Images flashed through his mind, memories of the time he'd spent under Germany's rule and...
He was being hugged fiercely, tightly. Desperately.
"You can't. You can't be thinking of doing it again." Ludwig's voice was low, beside his ear. "Francis...you can't."
Again?
"Ludwig?" He felt giddy all of a sudden, and angry, and sad, and the humiliation and the guilt and it felt like he was going to just implode from the weight of everything. "Ludwig, it's the simplest solution."
Re: Crossing that Thin Line [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-15 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)Anon is quietly imploding in her seat at the moment, and loves you madly for continuing to cater to her recent France/Germany cravings. Oh my god. And the parallels--I fucking loved the way you laid out the parallels and the contrasts. Beautiful work as always.
Oh god I can't wait for more this is lasj;lkj;ljkf;alsjdjfdjf
*F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5*
Crossing that Thin Line [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 05:10 pm (UTC)(link)There was a sharp crack when Ludwig's head hit the tiled wall. Francis's fists were still clenched as he took a step back, shaking with rage. "Don't you dare!" he spat, barely able to put the words together in his head. "Don't..."
"I'm sorry," whispered Ludwig. "That was uncalled for." Those blue eyes glanced up at him, beseeching. "But I don't think I can stand by knowing that you are planning to terminate another child."
Another? Planning? "What gave you the idea... that I... had that child aborted?" His voice was eerily flat and calm, and sounded so distant to his own ears that he wondered if he spoke at all. He wished he hadn't, because confusion was flickering across Ludwig's face and he was going to have to explain himself and he would have to remember...
...legs. Legs kicking, arms beating, rifle butts. Knives. Girls weeping, weeping and weeping, their beautiful long locks scattered across the ground, hacked off, shaven, shamed. Yelling. Traitors, collaborators, whores...
"I didn't... I didn't want... I didn't want to..."
...pain. Pain exploding across his belly. Screaming, screaming because they didn't know, he couldn't, wouldn't blame them, because it was right. It was wrong. It was anger, relief, retribution. It was Germany's child, it was...
It was his.
"Francis?" Ludwig was approaching him, concern overriding the horror apparent in those blue eyes, reaching out, but hesitating, as if afraid that a single touch would break him.
It didn't even take that much.
The floor rushed up to meet him, but Ludwig got there first, and his last thought as blackness crawled into his vision was that it was good he wasn't going to land on his front.
Re: Crossing that Thin Line [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Crossing that Thin Line [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)And fffff of all things an mpreg fic making me look up more details on the Nazi occupation of France. References to les tondues! Historical tie-ins! This continues to be a fascinating read; will be sitting here F5'ing like a mofo. /o
writer!anon...
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Crossing that Thin Line [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)Ho ho, take my suggestion?I fucking <3 you so hard anon for this and can't friggin wait for the next chapter (you're the inspiration for one of my own Germany/France)
<3 you
writer!anon is flattered
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)We'll be getting there. *grins*Ah, I'm inspiration? *blushes furiously* It's the first time I'm writing this pair, actually. I would love to see what you're writing when you're done!
Crossing that Thin Line [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)And the child saluted him, because Ludwig was whispering in his ear, and putting that red arm-band around his arm, and Ludwig's eyes were steel again, smiling like poison and death. He wanted to go forward, to grab his child, to take him away, but his feet were bound, his hands were bound and the child smiled with Germany's smile.
And the child laughed, putting his small arms around his papa as he babbled on about how he was helping vati make wurst and they could all eat together. He held the child tightly, wrinkling his nose at the mention of Ludwig's favourite 'food', but he was happy, so happy that his child was happy and they were all together and Ludwig was calling for them to come back into the house.
Ludwig was silent as he was being taken away and Arthur was kissing him, telling him that he was finally free again, and he wanted to tell his child the good news. Good news, your vati will be alright, we're not killing him, he can come back when he's done repenting, but he couldn't find him. He couldn't find the boy.
The nurses were telling him, you were pretty beat up, the war must have been hard on you, Monsieur France and he was sitting in a hospital bed, hugging his knees, his hair too short to cover his eyes as he cried and cried for the child that he couldn't bring into the world.