Notes: Prompt was "I'm in need of a good, hard cry, anons. That being said, all I want, plain and simple is something downright heartbreaking." This may or may not fit.
---
(She attempts to play piano. She bangs again and again on the keys, making some kind of cacophony. Frustrated, she struggles to understand the sheet music. It doesn't do her much good.
From outside the door, he winces a little, but smiles and leaves her to it.)
“What are you doing here?” Switzerland has not lowered his gun. Austria swallows and maintains composure.
“I merely wished to speak to you.”
Switzerland snorts. “It's been a long time since you've wanted to do that.”
“I know. I'm sorry.”
(She brushes her hair in the mirror. I don't look like anyone here, she muses. I look like that boy who was around when I was a baby. She barely remembers him, but she knows she looks like him. What happened to him?
She shakes her head. Nevermind.)
“Don't care,” Switzerland answers. “Why are you here?”
Austria sighs. “I had things to check up on.”
“Things...?”
“You know what I refer to.”
(A hand tugs on hers. “Miss Hungary, what's going on?”
She looks down in surprise. “Oh, Liechtenstein,” she says. “I... Mr. Austria has gotten himself into something of a fight.”
“With who? Why?”
“With quite a lot of people, altogether,” Hungary says. In the other room, Austria is discussing something with Germany in hushed voices. “Why...” she closes her eyes and remembers the past. “There are some people who don't care for him as much as you do.”)
It takes awhile for it to click in Switzerland's brain. When it does, the gun also clicks. “I would prefer you not talk about her like that,” he says. “She's not a thing. Not a diplomatic issue. It's none of your business anyway.”
(“Austria, you can't let them do this!” Hungary demands of him. He can only rub his forehead in frustration.
“What choice do we have?” he says. “We lost. Did you forget that?”
“You bastard!” She hits him hard on the back of the head. “After all this – after everything you went through to obtain all this, you'll let us go without a fight?”
“We have been fighting for the last five years. It did not work.”
“I would say it was your refusal to let your territories go that caused the problem in the first place,” England informs them smugly. Enormously hypocritical, from that man, and Austria has to grab Hungary's wrist to prevent her from punching him. “I would say most of your territories will not be that upset that you're gone. As far as I was aware, Miss Hungary, you have had a history of reluctance to him as well, have you not.”
Hungary does not answer, and Austria allows himself one defiance. “And what of those who don't? Those who have never been anything but... well, people I must care for.”
England barely blinks. “Every parent must let his children go sometimes, Austria,” he says. “I would know.”)
“I know,” he says. “I just... wanted to make sure she was faring alright.”
“Not like you,” Switzerland tells him. “How did you know she was in my house anyway?”
“It's not exactly a secret.”
“Whatever,” Switzerland says. “She's just fine. Now. No thanks to you.”
(“Miss Hungary? Mr. Austria!” She doesn't know what's going on. Miss Hungary only saw her for a few moments, saying she had to go, that they couldn't go back to the house, that she'd see Liechtenstein again someday. She didn't understand. Then Hungary was gone and when she tried to return home, the house was gone.
It is cold and raining and she looks for a place with just a little more shelter. She finds an alleyway. She collapses.)
“Switzerland–”
“Look, you lost her thanks to your damn war, and you gave her up without a fight. You don't get the right to come back in here, demanding to know about her. She's better off now anyway.”
Austria gulps. “I never denied that,” he says as steadily as he can. “I just... I needed to know if she was okay.”
[Part 10] Soprano (Austria, Liechtenstein, Switzerland) (1/2)
---
(She attempts to play piano. She bangs again and again on the keys, making some kind of cacophony. Frustrated, she struggles to understand the sheet music. It doesn't do her much good.
From outside the door, he winces a little, but smiles and leaves her to it.)
“What are you doing here?” Switzerland has not lowered his gun. Austria swallows and maintains composure.
“I merely wished to speak to you.”
Switzerland snorts. “It's been a long time since you've wanted to do that.”
“I know. I'm sorry.”
(She brushes her hair in the mirror. I don't look like anyone here, she muses. I look like that boy who was around when I was a baby. She barely remembers him, but she knows she looks like him. What happened to him?
She shakes her head. Nevermind.)
“Don't care,” Switzerland answers. “Why are you here?”
Austria sighs. “I had things to check up on.”
“Things...?”
“You know what I refer to.”
(A hand tugs on hers. “Miss Hungary, what's going on?”
She looks down in surprise. “Oh, Liechtenstein,” she says. “I... Mr. Austria has gotten himself into something of a fight.”
“With who? Why?”
“With quite a lot of people, altogether,” Hungary says. In the other room, Austria is discussing something with Germany in hushed voices. “Why...” she closes her eyes and remembers the past. “There are some people who don't care for him as much as you do.”)
It takes awhile for it to click in Switzerland's brain. When it does, the gun also clicks. “I would prefer you not talk about her like that,” he says. “She's not a thing. Not a diplomatic issue. It's none of your business anyway.”
(“Austria, you can't let them do this!” Hungary demands of him. He can only rub his forehead in frustration.
“What choice do we have?” he says. “We lost. Did you forget that?”
“You bastard!” She hits him hard on the back of the head. “After all this – after everything you went through to obtain all this, you'll let us go without a fight?”
“We have been fighting for the last five years. It did not work.”
“I would say it was your refusal to let your territories go that caused the problem in the first place,” England informs them smugly. Enormously hypocritical, from that man, and Austria has to grab Hungary's wrist to prevent her from punching him. “I would say most of your territories will not be that upset that you're gone. As far as I was aware, Miss Hungary, you have had a history of reluctance to him as well, have you not.”
Hungary does not answer, and Austria allows himself one defiance. “And what of those who don't? Those who have never been anything but... well, people I must care for.”
England barely blinks. “Every parent must let his children go sometimes, Austria,” he says. “I would know.”)
“I know,” he says. “I just... wanted to make sure she was faring alright.”
“Not like you,” Switzerland tells him. “How did you know she was in my house anyway?”
“It's not exactly a secret.”
“Whatever,” Switzerland says. “She's just fine. Now. No thanks to you.”
(“Miss Hungary? Mr. Austria!” She doesn't know what's going on. Miss Hungary only saw her for a few moments, saying she had to go, that they couldn't go back to the house, that she'd see Liechtenstein again someday. She didn't understand. Then Hungary was gone and when she tried to return home, the house was gone.
It is cold and raining and she looks for a place with just a little more shelter. She finds an alleyway. She collapses.)
“Switzerland–”
“Look, you lost her thanks to your damn war, and you gave her up without a fight. You don't get the right to come back in here, demanding to know about her. She's better off now anyway.”
Austria gulps. “I never denied that,” he says as steadily as he can. “I just... I needed to know if she was okay.”