A satisfying crunch echoed around the room, and Prussia could feel bone and cartilage give way under his hand. Time seemed to come to a screeching halt until there was nothing but the burning of his knuckles and his own panting breath roaring in his ears.
The dreamlike state broke as West stumbled backwards, hands flying to his nose, eyes wide and watering in what Prussia knew was more a physical reaction than a response to the pain itself. Blood seeped through his fingers, and for a moment, Prussia felt a little bit bad.
Then West launched himself forward, catching him off-guard and slamming an answering fist deep into his stomach.
Prussia folded in on himself, gasping and heaving. Not stopping to catch his breath, he clenched his eyes shut and threw himself forward.
The impacts came fast. His head into West’s torso. The body-wide jolt as the nearby wall brought them both to a sudden stop. Prussia’s head rung, but he shook if off. “Fuck,” he muttered, getting his bearings. “Fuck, you little shit.”
A knee raced towards his chest, and Prussia blocked with both hands and shoved. Dragging a shallow gasp of air back into his lungs, he ignored the clamors of his body, and slammed both fists into West’s sides. Fuck, it felt good to hit something!
Hands tried to push him away, but Prussia ignored it, shoving his head harder into West’s stomach to keep him pinned to the wall. A pained groan reached his ears and spurred him on, fists never relenting in their assault.
It came to a screeching halt when something solid drove into his back, driving the air from his lungs.
Prussia hit the floor chest first, forehead and nose smacking into the ground. He blindly reached out with both hands, grabbing what had to be West’s leg, and pulling.
It wasn’t enough to knock his brother off balance – damn his stupid height and solid build—but Prussia instantly adapted. He tightened his grip and dragged his body forward. When he was close enough, he sank his teeth into the muscle of West’s calf through his slacks.
A howl came from above him and Prussia grinned savagely through the mouthful of fabric, biting down again in the same spot as the initial scream petered out into smaller grunts of pain.
Motion flickered at the edge of his vision, and a foot buried itself in his side. Prussia’s hands went slack without his permission. Before he could move, another savage blow rained down. His breath hitched, and through the roar in his ears and West’s shouts above him, he thought he heard the cracking of ribs in time with a third kick at his undefended torso.
Shit, that was going to hurt later.
With effort, Prussia got his knees under him and levered himself up. He’d taken far worse on the battlefield; fighting though pain was no big deal. Another kick blurred towards him and without looking, he grabbed it and twisted. His other hand flew out in a punch straight at West’s groin.
It was a dirty move, and worked exactly as intended. West let out a strangled gasp and froze in place.
Taking advantage of the lull, Prussia wrapped both arms around his brother’s knees and launched himself backwards, rolling at the last moment so he wouldn’t be crushed. He scrambled to his knees and straddled West’s back.
West thrashed, throwing his head back in a poorly executed attempt at a headbutt.
Grabbing hold of the gelled blonde hair, Prussia slammed his face into the ground. With West’s already broken nose, it had to hurt, but he didn’t care. “Stop fucking fighting me!” he yelled.
West stopped moving, dazed, and Prussia used the precious moments until the next attack to unbuckle his own belt.
The hiss of leather racing across fabric set West struggling again, but it was too late. Prussia wrenched both his wrists behind him, and wrapped the belt around them several times before pulling it tight and fastening the buckle. There. It would be a lot harder for West to attack him without his hands.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” West shouted. But he didn’t try to attack again, or make any useless attempts to get free, so Prussia knew he’d won this one. “Let me go,” West tried again, breathing deeply in what had to be a combination of rage, pain, and exhaustion.
His voice was rough and a clear warning, which Prussia blithely ignored. “Me? You started it.”
West squirmed beneath him, trying to twist around and glare at Prussia. It didn’t work, but it did give Prussia a better view of his spectacularly bloodied nose.
“I started it? I tried to stop you from storming out like a child. That is not starting it.”
Prussia slapped his free hand down on the floor and twisted his fingers tighter into West’s hair, pulling his head back until he could speak directly into his brother’s ear.
“I’m not a child. Stop calling me that. Stop treating me like one. I fucking raised you. I raised you and I trained you and I created you, and all I get these days is ridicule.” He paused. “I've always wondered. What did I do to lose your respect that badly?"
Beneath him, West startled, head straining to get enough distance between them to look him in the eye.
Prussia let him, curious to see which of his brother’s many glares he was the recipient of this time. He was surprised to not find the expected furious glower, but instead a shuttered, unreadable expression.
"Nothing." West's expression turned to stone. "You did nothing. You haven't changed since we met. I'm the one that grew up."
Prussia took a breath, but all he could muster was a sneer and a, "Well good for you. All grown up now."
“I—”
“Shut up,” Prussia cut him off, voice turning cold. “You’re always the one talking. You’re always…“ He trailed off as a wave of dizziness swept through him, the edges of his vision going blurry. Pushing past it, he started up again. “You’re always the one—”
The world fell away.
A lance of fire shot through Prussia’s chest as he crashed into the ground, jolting him back to awareness. It took him a moment to realize he’d slid off West’s back and onto the floor. He tried to sit back up, and bit back a cry at the unexpected pain. He didn’t try again. Without the adrenaline from the fight to keep him going, the extent of his injuries roared to life. His ribs were definitely cracked. Maybe more than that, he conceded, as his vision went from blurry to dark. Internal damage wasn’t enough to kill a nation, even a former one, but it hurt like fuck and he hated being incapacitated.
A vile string of curses was on the tip of his tongue, but his brain had other ideas and what came out was, “I gave you everything, and you threw me away.”
Fuck, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. He didn’t have much time to be mortified, and all thought was blotted out by the nausea that clawed up his stomach and into his throat. Shit, West sure could kick.
Moving hurt like fuck, but Prussia managed to roll onto his less injured side where he stayed, curled up and struggling to breathe. Flicking his eyes over, he could barely make out his brother’s form in the darkness.
West sat up in stiff jerking motions, but even to Prussia’s weak vision it was clear he hadn’t been able to free his arms.
“This is pathetic,” Prussia mumbled.
He was startled to get a response, the sardonic tones of, “In that, we’re in agreement,” floating to his ears.
The world slid out of focus, and when it came back, there was a hand reaching over his body and into his back pocket. Prussia jerked, trying and failing to roll away out of reach. He immediately wished he hadn’t, fists clenched tight against the fresh wave of agony rolling through him at the movement.
“Stop moving, you idiot.” West again, sitting with his back towards Prussia and at least that explained the hands.
Prussia didn’t need to be told twice. He felt, rather than saw, the mobile phone plucked from his pocket; heard the sounds of a familiar number being dialed.
“What the fuck,” he managed to get out. “We don’t need a hospital.”
“Shut up,” West responded. “Yes we do. You can’t even move, and I—” he squeezed his eyes shut while he took several measured breaths, “—I could use one too.”
Prussia recognized that expression. It was the one West used when he didn’t want anyone to know he was in pain. He didn’t remember getting in a hit that would cause his brother to be that bad off. Maybe he shoved West against that wall harder than he’d thought.
That line of thinking was derailed by a familiar clench in Prussia’s chest, one that had nothing to do with his injuries, and he was surprised to recognize the old worry that rose up in his mind. It was a feeling he’d thought long since buried.
“West, you okay?” he asked, the words slipping out unthinkingly.
Another controlled breath and a shaky, “Fine,” was the answer, and Prussia knew enough to know that that didn’t mean fine at all.
West would be okay, Prussia knew (it took more than a fist fight to kill a nation) but that didn’t stop the twisting in his gut as he watched his brother lose the battle to stay upright.
Lying on the floor in front of Prussia, West looked younger, more like the little boy who used to idolize him than the hard-eyed adult he’d grown into, and Prussia’s hand moved of its own volition, sweeping a stray piece of blonde hair from where it had fallen out of its severe style and into West’s face.
West closed his eyes and turned his face away.
Prussia took the hint and let his hand drop to the floor.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something that he should be doing. Clothing, pants, a belt, maybe? Something. But he was tired and fuzzy and didn’t feel like thinking.
So he didn’t, and his eyes slipped shut.
---
A/N: I’ll have the second half up as soon as I can get it into a decent state
Beyond amazing, Author!Anon, and I think I recognize your style from some others fills :) You write these two carachters in an amazing way. I'm so eager to see them make peace again, I can't stand to see the brothers fight so badly, anyway Prussia biting at Germany's leg made me laugh :D I'm so glad you found the time to fill this request even if you have your hands full, Anon, you're doing such a good job of it!
Fantastic, just fantastic! You write these two so beautifully and make their interaction so natural and so rich that I almost don't know what to say. I could quote every piece of dialogue and all of the narration back at you as an example of how to get these two right.
I loved Prussia's irritation and how it was still laced with love and how you worked in so many details about his past and how he doesn't fit in in the modern world. And the fighting scene was really well done. I love seeing stuff like this that shows that even if they care about each other, they still get on each other's nerves. Great work, anon, and I'll be eagerly waiting for the rest.
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Re: Team-Building Exercise (1c/2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-21 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)The dreamlike state broke as West stumbled backwards, hands flying to his nose, eyes wide and watering in what Prussia knew was more a physical reaction than a response to the pain itself. Blood seeped through his fingers, and for a moment, Prussia felt a little bit bad.
Then West launched himself forward, catching him off-guard and slamming an answering fist deep into his stomach.
Prussia folded in on himself, gasping and heaving. Not stopping to catch his breath, he clenched his eyes shut and threw himself forward.
The impacts came fast. His head into West’s torso. The body-wide jolt as the nearby wall brought them both to a sudden stop. Prussia’s head rung, but he shook if off. “Fuck,” he muttered, getting his bearings. “Fuck, you little shit.”
A knee raced towards his chest, and Prussia blocked with both hands and shoved. Dragging a shallow gasp of air back into his lungs, he ignored the clamors of his body, and slammed both fists into West’s sides. Fuck, it felt good to hit something!
Hands tried to push him away, but Prussia ignored it, shoving his head harder into West’s stomach to keep him pinned to the wall. A pained groan reached his ears and spurred him on, fists never relenting in their assault.
It came to a screeching halt when something solid drove into his back, driving the air from his lungs.
Prussia hit the floor chest first, forehead and nose smacking into the ground. He blindly reached out with both hands, grabbing what had to be West’s leg, and pulling.
It wasn’t enough to knock his brother off balance – damn his stupid height and solid build—but Prussia instantly adapted. He tightened his grip and dragged his body forward. When he was close enough, he sank his teeth into the muscle of West’s calf through his slacks.
A howl came from above him and Prussia grinned savagely through the mouthful of fabric, biting down again in the same spot as the initial scream petered out into smaller grunts of pain.
Motion flickered at the edge of his vision, and a foot buried itself in his side. Prussia’s hands went slack without his permission. Before he could move, another savage blow rained down. His breath hitched, and through the roar in his ears and West’s shouts above him, he thought he heard the cracking of ribs in time with a third kick at his undefended torso.
Shit, that was going to hurt later.
With effort, Prussia got his knees under him and levered himself up. He’d taken far worse on the battlefield; fighting though pain was no big deal. Another kick blurred towards him and without looking, he grabbed it and twisted. His other hand flew out in a punch straight at West’s groin.
It was a dirty move, and worked exactly as intended. West let out a strangled gasp and froze in place.
Taking advantage of the lull, Prussia wrapped both arms around his brother’s knees and launched himself backwards, rolling at the last moment so he wouldn’t be crushed. He scrambled to his knees and straddled West’s back.
West thrashed, throwing his head back in a poorly executed attempt at a headbutt.
Grabbing hold of the gelled blonde hair, Prussia slammed his face into the ground. With West’s already broken nose, it had to hurt, but he didn’t care. “Stop fucking fighting me!” he yelled.
West stopped moving, dazed, and Prussia used the precious moments until the next attack to unbuckle his own belt.
The hiss of leather racing across fabric set West struggling again, but it was too late. Prussia wrenched both his wrists behind him, and wrapped the belt around them several times before pulling it tight and fastening the buckle. There. It would be a lot harder for West to attack him without his hands.
Re: Team-Building Exercise (1d/2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-21 07:03 pm (UTC)(link)His voice was rough and a clear warning, which Prussia blithely ignored. “Me? You started it.”
West squirmed beneath him, trying to twist around and glare at Prussia. It didn’t work, but it did give Prussia a better view of his spectacularly bloodied nose.
“I started it? I tried to stop you from storming out like a child. That is not starting it.”
Prussia slapped his free hand down on the floor and twisted his fingers tighter into West’s hair, pulling his head back until he could speak directly into his brother’s ear.
“I’m not a child. Stop calling me that. Stop treating me like one. I fucking raised you. I raised you and I trained you and I created you, and all I get these days is ridicule.” He paused. “I've always wondered. What did I do to lose your respect that badly?"
Beneath him, West startled, head straining to get enough distance between them to look him in the eye.
Prussia let him, curious to see which of his brother’s many glares he was the recipient of this time. He was surprised to not find the expected furious glower, but instead a shuttered, unreadable expression.
"Well," Prussia demanded, impatient now. "Tell me!"
"Nothing." West's expression turned to stone. "You did nothing. You haven't changed since we met. I'm the one that grew up."
Prussia took a breath, but all he could muster was a sneer and a, "Well good for you. All grown up now."
“I—”
“Shut up,” Prussia cut him off, voice turning cold. “You’re always the one talking. You’re always…“ He trailed off as a wave of dizziness swept through him, the edges of his vision going blurry. Pushing past it, he started up again. “You’re always the one—”
The world fell away.
A lance of fire shot through Prussia’s chest as he crashed into the ground, jolting him back to awareness. It took him a moment to realize he’d slid off West’s back and onto the floor. He tried to sit back up, and bit back a cry at the unexpected pain. He didn’t try again. Without the adrenaline from the fight to keep him going, the extent of his injuries roared to life. His ribs were definitely cracked. Maybe more than that, he conceded, as his vision went from blurry to dark. Internal damage wasn’t enough to kill a nation, even a former one, but it hurt like fuck and he hated being incapacitated.
A vile string of curses was on the tip of his tongue, but his brain had other ideas and what came out was, “I gave you everything, and you threw me away.”
Fuck, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. He didn’t have much time to be mortified, and all thought was blotted out by the nausea that clawed up his stomach and into his throat. Shit, West sure could kick.
Moving hurt like fuck, but Prussia managed to roll onto his less injured side where he stayed, curled up and struggling to breathe. Flicking his eyes over, he could barely make out his brother’s form in the darkness.
West sat up in stiff jerking motions, but even to Prussia’s weak vision it was clear he hadn’t been able to free his arms.
“This is pathetic,” Prussia mumbled.
He was startled to get a response, the sardonic tones of, “In that, we’re in agreement,” floating to his ears.
The world slid out of focus, and when it came back, there was a hand reaching over his body and into his back pocket. Prussia jerked, trying and failing to roll away out of reach. He immediately wished he hadn’t, fists clenched tight against the fresh wave of agony rolling through him at the movement.
“Stop moving, you idiot.” West again, sitting with his back towards Prussia and at least that explained the hands.
Prussia didn’t need to be told twice. He felt, rather than saw, the mobile phone plucked from his pocket; heard the sounds of a familiar number being dialed.
“What the fuck,” he managed to get out. “We don’t need a hospital.”
“Shut up,” West responded. “Yes we do. You can’t even move, and I—” he squeezed his eyes shut while he took several measured breaths, “—I could use one too.”
Re: Team-Building Exercise (1e/2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-21 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)That line of thinking was derailed by a familiar clench in Prussia’s chest, one that had nothing to do with his injuries, and he was surprised to recognize the old worry that rose up in his mind. It was a feeling he’d thought long since buried.
“West, you okay?” he asked, the words slipping out unthinkingly.
Another controlled breath and a shaky, “Fine,” was the answer, and Prussia knew enough to know that that didn’t mean fine at all.
West would be okay, Prussia knew (it took more than a fist fight to kill a nation) but that didn’t stop the twisting in his gut as he watched his brother lose the battle to stay upright.
Lying on the floor in front of Prussia, West looked younger, more like the little boy who used to idolize him than the hard-eyed adult he’d grown into, and Prussia’s hand moved of its own volition, sweeping a stray piece of blonde hair from where it had fallen out of its severe style and into West’s face.
West closed his eyes and turned his face away.
Prussia took the hint and let his hand drop to the floor.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something that he should be doing. Clothing, pants, a belt, maybe? Something. But he was tired and fuzzy and didn’t feel like thinking.
So he didn’t, and his eyes slipped shut.
---
A/N: I’ll have the second half up as soon as I can get it into a decent state
Re: Team-Building Exercise (1e/2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-21 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)You write these two carachters in an amazing way. I'm so eager to see them make peace again, I can't stand to see the brothers fight so badly, anyway Prussia biting at Germany's leg made me laugh :D
I'm so glad you found the time to fill this request even if you have your hands full, Anon, you're doing such a good job of it!
Re: Team-Building Exercise (1e/2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-22 03:43 am (UTC)(link)I loved Prussia's irritation and how it was still laced with love and how you worked in so many details about his past and how he doesn't fit in in the modern world. And the fighting scene was really well done. I love seeing stuff like this that shows that even if they care about each other, they still get on each other's nerves. Great work, anon, and I'll be eagerly waiting for the rest.