When it came to world meetings, many things were common that Ludwig had noticed. Britain and France tearing chunks of hair and bloodying clothes, Russia smiling and sitting in a seemingly content daze, America trying to raise his voice above the chaos to put forth some completely asinine idea, and finally Ludwig himself screaming until his voice teetered on cracking to put an end to it all. The incidents had become so commonplace they were barely registered apart from a apathetic glance to the fray.
This, however, was completely new.
Ludwig had suffered a horrible day before the meeting had begun. Gilbert had thought that getting drunk and calling his brother at 3am to drive him home from some bar two hours away was a great idea. Normally, he would quietly hang up, but he knew that his brother was needed in a meeting for his half of the country. If Ludwig didn't pick him up, Gilbert would just skip, and the time sensitive, rule abiding Ludwig couldn't rest with that. So Ludwig drove, picked up his brother and was halfway to their shared house before he vomited. Oh, the vomit didn't land on the floor, no, that would be much too forgiving. No, the vomit landed on the stick shift beside Ludwig. The one that he had been gripping when the rancid smelling liquid spewed onto his right hand.
The rest of the drive was spent in stony silence, Ludwig pulling over to wipe his hand off and Gilbert occasionally moaning in pain in the background.
When they got home, Gilbert immediately vomited again, his sick staining the floor and the toes of his shoes. Disgruntled and disgusted, Ludwig sent him to his room and got to work cleaning the puke. By the time he had toddled into bed, it was nearing 6 AM.
Of course, this happened on the night of a world meeting, and currently Ludwig was arriving with only an hour of sleep under his belt. He had slicked back his hair, did his best to use enough cologne to mask any lingering smells of vomit and sat at his spot, already in a foul mood.
The meeting had started as awfully as it usually did. They had gotten through the first quarter with most attention on the speakers, much to Ludwig's relief. There were a few side conversations here and there, Italy fell asleep around the half hour mark and had to be awoken by Ludwig, but it went well. Then came the first notes of Ludwig's oncoming migraine.
"Are you drinking wine?!" A thick British accent screamed, slicing through the subtle silent haze of the meeting room and cutting off China from his speech. All heads turned to Britain, who was on his feet and waving a black canister in France's face.
"And how would you know wine when you saw it?" France retorted, one delicate eyebrow raised. "I thought the stuffy little man only drank ale."
Britain's eyebrows furrowed, green eyes narrowing as he glared down the other nation. "I am a gentleman, and I wouldn't ruin my tastes with such a ghastly mixture. Of course, you would drink it, you are a man of low class."
By now, most heads had turned away, gazes locked on their smartphones or doodling on the edges of their economy reports. Ludwig cleared his throat and sent the two bickering nations a pointed glare. That was strike one, and it usually deterred people from continuing for twenty minutes or so. However, the two didn't notice as their fight spiraled out of control.
"What did you say about moi?!" France was on his feet now as well, eyes wild as he stared at the snickering nation. "I do not have low class! You simply don't know what's good because you only like what you produce!"
Great, now a fist fight was going to start. Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stifle his anger before glancing around at the other nations. Why was it that he was the one always having to monitor these things? Did no one else care that they were wasting precious time? No. Of course not. And no matter how poor Ludwig felt at that moment, he knew that simply letting the fight continue would only waste more time and make his suffering worse.
"Hey, Germany?" Italy was now tugging at the sleeve of his suit, sleepily smiling at him. "I had a crazy dream just now, and I wanted..."
Ludwig tuned the other out, squeezing his eyes tight enough that he was beginning to see stars. Over the throbbing in his brain, he could hear France give a primal shriek and the sounds of a body hitting the floor along with Italy mumbling in his ear about something involving all of the nations present turning into cats. This had gone on for more than enough.
With another, louder clear of his throat, Ludwig stood and sent the fist fighting nations another icy glare before approaching them. The two were completely oblivious as usual, France trying to rip off Britain's cheeks and Britain attempting to bite off a chunk of France's silky hair. With as much casualty as he could muster, Germany leaned down and promptly pulled the two apart. Both thrashed under his hands, kicking out on instinct before they stilled and two pairs of apprehensive and a little wary eyes lifted to stare at him.
"Are you about done?" His voice was cold, blue eyes staring down at the two beneath his hold. They frowned, opened their mouths as if to retort before looking away in shame. Ludwig thought the matter was dealt with and straightened.
That was when America decided to open his mouth.
"Haha, man, Germany, you looked pissed!" His voice was loud, grating against Ludwig's already grated nerves. The younger nation turned to face America, who was now also standing and flashing him his winning smile. "You know, I know a sure fire way to keep these boring things under control!"
And then came the most stupid idea Ludwig had ever heard. Well, to give America credit, it wasn't the stupidest. He stuck true to his usual wild and outlandish ideas that would in no shape or form ever work. But Ludwig was feeling irritable, running on one cup of coffee and the stench of vomit coating his nasal passage like lead.
"Would you shut up!?"
America froze, mouth open in mid word as he stared. Ludwig would often yell, this was normal. But he had never sounded so angry; it was like the idea was a personal insult. And he didn't stop there.
"God! I shouldn't have to sit here and listen to your stupid ideas! Don't you realize they'll never work!? Have you no practical brain cell in your body?!" Ludwig had no concept of what he was saying, the words spilling out faster than his brain could properly process. He was tearing into him with all of the pent up frustration he had bottled away, his fists clenched tightly at his side.
The lecture only lasted a straight two minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Ludwig. As the last words of his rant faded and Ludwig got control of his usual sense, he noticed two things.
Everyone was staring at him with unabashed shock, and America wasn't yelling back.
In fact, America hadn't moved from his position, a hand still held up in that mid speech and his mouth still closed. Thirty seconds later, his expression crumbled, mouth working noiselessly as he tried to find a way to save face.
"Uh...W-Well....I...."
That was all anyone heard before America hunched his shoulders, sitting down and looking away.
A flurry of unintelligible murmuring swept through the meeting room, snippets of "Was that really America?" and "Did Germany seriously say all that?" sweeping past Ludwig's sharp ears. Britain and France, who had stood somewhere near the beginning of Ludwig's little tangent, quickly slipped back to their chairs, each exchanging shocked glances.
He could feel guilt beginning to seep into his gut, starting to weigh it down, but Ludwig ignored this. Instead, he put on a calloused front and turned to China calmly, who looked quite awkward and out of place on the podium by himself. "Continue." With that, he sat down.
The meeting went on uninterrupted, and stood to be one of the quietest meetings they had experienced in quite awhile. No one dared step out of line, afraid of incurring the same wrath America had suffered. By now, Ludwig was feeling properly guilty and he could feel his head lower each time someone glanced at him.
It would be much easier for Ludwig to process if America had actually had a reaction. Anger, more obnoxious laughing, hell, even tears were better than this. Instead, America was staring blankly at his papers, sulking like a child who had been spanked. The entire thing confused and unnerved Ludwig and only served to make his guilt worse.
By the time three hours had passed, it was finally time to break for the day.
Everyone stood, gathering their papers and muttering to each other in their own side conversations. Ludwig stood as well, gathering his papers and relieved that for once Italy had decided to go bother his brother instead of him. As the nations began filing out, Ludwig could see America through the throng, who was slowly gathering his things at a snail's like pace. Once most of the crowd cleared out, Ludwig knew that he needed to ease the guilt eating away at him.
"America." The voice was quiet but firm and America's gaze snapped up to meet his. It wavered for a moment before quickly looking away, toying with the edge of his economy report.
After ten seconds, he finally managed to speak.
"Look, if this is about before, I'm really sorry." The other started, looking back at Ludwig. He blinked once, then twice, wondering if he heard right. Was America apologizing? Ludwig's eyebrows raised, staring at the nation who was looking more vulnerable than Germany had seen in quite awhile.
"It was stupid, I know, but I just wanted to help out... And I was sitting there, thinking to myself about how stupid it was, but like the idiot I am I opened my mouth and..." Here he trailed off, biting his lip and scratching the back of his neck. "God, I mean, I didn't think I'd offend you..."
Finally finding his words, Ludwig raised a hand. "You didn't, and it should be me apologizing." It was now his turn to look embarrassed, but he forced himself not to fidget. It was a nasty habit that drove him insane.
America looked up and blinked, surprise written all over his features. "Seriously?"
Ludwig nodded. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have said anything."
America's gaze lowered, eyebrows creasing as he tried to make sense of Ludwig's words. Ludwig waited patiently, clasping his hands behind his back.
After a long moment, America opened his mouth once more. "It's okay man... I mean, shit... It's fine. We're cool." A small little smile replaced the frown that had sat on the North American's face for the past few hours. "But I do have more ideas. Good ones this time. If...If you wanna hear 'em, I mean..."
Ludwig frowned, having a feeling he was going to regret it, but he eventually caved. And while most of America's ideas were still outlandish and odd, Ludwig found he didn't mind anymore.
America sulks and Germany feels guilty -- The fill
This, however, was completely new.
Ludwig had suffered a horrible day before the meeting had begun. Gilbert had thought that getting drunk and calling his brother at 3am to drive him home from some bar two hours away was a great idea. Normally, he would quietly hang up, but he knew that his brother was needed in a meeting for his half of the country. If Ludwig didn't pick him up, Gilbert would just skip, and the time sensitive, rule abiding Ludwig couldn't rest with that. So Ludwig drove, picked up his brother and was halfway to their shared house before he vomited. Oh, the vomit didn't land on the floor, no, that would be much too forgiving. No, the vomit landed on the stick shift beside Ludwig. The one that he had been gripping when the rancid smelling liquid spewed onto his right hand.
The rest of the drive was spent in stony silence, Ludwig pulling over to wipe his hand off and Gilbert occasionally moaning in pain in the background.
When they got home, Gilbert immediately vomited again, his sick staining the floor and the toes of his shoes. Disgruntled and disgusted, Ludwig sent him to his room and got to work cleaning the puke. By the time he had toddled into bed, it was nearing 6 AM.
Of course, this happened on the night of a world meeting, and currently Ludwig was arriving with only an hour of sleep under his belt. He had slicked back his hair, did his best to use enough cologne to mask any lingering smells of vomit and sat at his spot, already in a foul mood.
The meeting had started as awfully as it usually did. They had gotten through the first quarter with most attention on the speakers, much to Ludwig's relief. There were a few side conversations here and there, Italy fell asleep around the half hour mark and had to be awoken by Ludwig, but it went well. Then came the first notes of Ludwig's oncoming migraine.
"Are you drinking wine?!" A thick British accent screamed, slicing through the subtle silent haze of the meeting room and cutting off China from his speech. All heads turned to Britain, who was on his feet and waving a black canister in France's face.
"And how would you know wine when you saw it?" France retorted, one delicate eyebrow raised. "I thought the stuffy little man only drank ale."
Britain's eyebrows furrowed, green eyes narrowing as he glared down the other nation. "I am a gentleman, and I wouldn't ruin my tastes with such a ghastly mixture. Of course, you would drink it, you are a man of low class."
By now, most heads had turned away, gazes locked on their smartphones or doodling on the edges of their economy reports. Ludwig cleared his throat and sent the two bickering nations a pointed glare. That was strike one, and it usually deterred people from continuing for twenty minutes or so. However, the two didn't notice as their fight spiraled out of control.
"What did you say about moi?!" France was on his feet now as well, eyes wild as he stared at the snickering nation. "I do not have low class! You simply don't know what's good because you only like what you produce!"
Great, now a fist fight was going to start. Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stifle his anger before glancing around at the other nations. Why was it that he was the one always having to monitor these things? Did no one else care that they were wasting precious time? No. Of course not. And no matter how poor Ludwig felt at that moment, he knew that simply letting the fight continue would only waste more time and make his suffering worse.
"Hey, Germany?" Italy was now tugging at the sleeve of his suit, sleepily smiling at him. "I had a crazy dream just now, and I wanted..."
Ludwig tuned the other out, squeezing his eyes tight enough that he was beginning to see stars. Over the throbbing in his brain, he could hear France give a primal shriek and the sounds of a body hitting the floor along with Italy mumbling in his ear about something involving all of the nations present turning into cats. This had gone on for more than enough.
With another, louder clear of his throat, Ludwig stood and sent the fist fighting nations another icy glare before approaching them. The two were completely oblivious as usual, France trying to rip off Britain's cheeks and Britain attempting to bite off a chunk of France's silky hair. With as much casualty as he could muster, Germany leaned down and promptly pulled the two apart. Both thrashed under his hands, kicking out on instinct before they stilled and two pairs of apprehensive and a little wary eyes lifted to stare at him.
"Are you about done?" His voice was cold, blue eyes staring down at the two beneath his hold. They frowned, opened their mouths as if to retort before looking away in shame. Ludwig thought the matter was dealt with and straightened.
That was when America decided to open his mouth.
"Haha, man, Germany, you looked pissed!" His voice was loud, grating against Ludwig's already grated nerves. The younger nation turned to face America, who was now also standing and flashing him his winning smile. "You know, I know a sure fire way to keep these boring things under control!"
And then came the most stupid idea Ludwig had ever heard. Well, to give America credit, it wasn't the stupidest. He stuck true to his usual wild and outlandish ideas that would in no shape or form ever work. But Ludwig was feeling irritable, running on one cup of coffee and the stench of vomit coating his nasal passage like lead.
"Would you shut up!?"
America froze, mouth open in mid word as he stared. Ludwig would often yell, this was normal. But he had never sounded so angry; it was like the idea was a personal insult. And he didn't stop there.
"God! I shouldn't have to sit here and listen to your stupid ideas! Don't you realize they'll never work!? Have you no practical brain cell in your body?!" Ludwig had no concept of what he was saying, the words spilling out faster than his brain could properly process. He was tearing into him with all of the pent up frustration he had bottled away, his fists clenched tightly at his side.
The lecture only lasted a straight two minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Ludwig. As the last words of his rant faded and Ludwig got control of his usual sense, he noticed two things.
Everyone was staring at him with unabashed shock, and America wasn't yelling back.
In fact, America hadn't moved from his position, a hand still held up in that mid speech and his mouth still closed. Thirty seconds later, his expression crumbled, mouth working noiselessly as he tried to find a way to save face.
"Uh...W-Well....I...."
That was all anyone heard before America hunched his shoulders, sitting down and looking away.
A flurry of unintelligible murmuring swept through the meeting room, snippets of "Was that really America?" and "Did Germany seriously say all that?" sweeping past Ludwig's sharp ears. Britain and France, who had stood somewhere near the beginning of Ludwig's little tangent, quickly slipped back to their chairs, each exchanging shocked glances.
He could feel guilt beginning to seep into his gut, starting to weigh it down, but Ludwig ignored this. Instead, he put on a calloused front and turned to China calmly, who looked quite awkward and out of place on the podium by himself. "Continue." With that, he sat down.
The meeting went on uninterrupted, and stood to be one of the quietest meetings they had experienced in quite awhile. No one dared step out of line, afraid of incurring the same wrath America had suffered. By now, Ludwig was feeling properly guilty and he could feel his head lower each time someone glanced at him.
It would be much easier for Ludwig to process if America had actually had a reaction. Anger, more obnoxious laughing, hell, even tears were better than this. Instead, America was staring blankly at his papers, sulking like a child who had been spanked. The entire thing confused and unnerved Ludwig and only served to make his guilt worse.
By the time three hours had passed, it was finally time to break for the day.
Everyone stood, gathering their papers and muttering to each other in their own side conversations. Ludwig stood as well, gathering his papers and relieved that for once Italy had decided to go bother his brother instead of him. As the nations began filing out, Ludwig could see America through the throng, who was slowly gathering his things at a snail's like pace. Once most of the crowd cleared out, Ludwig knew that he needed to ease the guilt eating away at him.
"America." The voice was quiet but firm and America's gaze snapped up to meet his. It wavered for a moment before quickly looking away, toying with the edge of his economy report.
After ten seconds, he finally managed to speak.
"Look, if this is about before, I'm really sorry." The other started, looking back at Ludwig. He blinked once, then twice, wondering if he heard right. Was America apologizing? Ludwig's eyebrows raised, staring at the nation who was looking more vulnerable than Germany had seen in quite awhile.
"It was stupid, I know, but I just wanted to help out... And I was sitting there, thinking to myself about how stupid it was, but like the idiot I am I opened my mouth and..." Here he trailed off, biting his lip and scratching the back of his neck. "God, I mean, I didn't think I'd offend you..."
Finally finding his words, Ludwig raised a hand. "You didn't, and it should be me apologizing." It was now his turn to look embarrassed, but he forced himself not to fidget. It was a nasty habit that drove him insane.
America looked up and blinked, surprise written all over his features. "Seriously?"
Ludwig nodded. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have said anything."
America's gaze lowered, eyebrows creasing as he tried to make sense of Ludwig's words. Ludwig waited patiently, clasping his hands behind his back.
After a long moment, America opened his mouth once more. "It's okay man... I mean, shit... It's fine. We're cool." A small little smile replaced the frown that had sat on the North American's face for the past few hours. "But I do have more ideas. Good ones this time. If...If you wanna hear 'em, I mean..."
Ludwig frowned, having a feeling he was going to regret it, but he eventually caved. And while most of America's ideas were still outlandish and odd, Ludwig found he didn't mind anymore.