Let Us Dream - Ch 1 {GermanyXAmerica Fan Fiction}
I had already come up with this story a while ago so I'll be posting it here now. I hope you don't mind. ^^
Title: Let Us Dream
Pairing: Germany X America
Genre: Angst / Drama / Romance
Ratting: T
Warning: Contemplation of suicide, cursing, and run of the mill angst.
Plot: America keeps having a reoccurring dream where someone keeps catching him while he falls. He has no idea who it is, but does he really even care? He just wanted to keep falling in the first place.
Chapter 1: Let me Dream of the End
Summary: America has the same dream again, where he just wants to meet an end, but it never comes. Plus, it's hard to argue with an axe through your door, as Alfred comes to learn.
Warning: Contemplation of suicide, cursing, threatening people with an axe.
It all started with this dream.
When I open my eyes, all I can see is an eternity of black. I can't tell what's up or down, but I do know that I am falling. The wind that seems to be coming from nowhere, it whistles past my ears as my body plunges through the coal colored sea. I don't know when it will stop; all I know is that the ground will come soon.
And I am fine with that.
My mind does not wander to the inevitable doom of my body finally hitting the pavement; of all my bones breaking once I collide with the ground. I am not afraid of the consequences that will befall my organs that will disintegrate into a pile of mush as I dive faster and faster. I hold no regret for whatever made me pull this stunt in the first place (a reason I just can't remember). I feel no guilt for what will happen to my land and its people, nor do I care of how my family and friends will act when they hear of my tragic end. I am utterly content with my decision, and nothing will make me question my final resolution.
Until a set of arms wrap around me, bringing me close to a warm chest.
This intruder causes me to doubt my actions the instant I feel their head against the back of mine. I do not see them, for they are behind me, but then again, I do not wish to. I know who it is, though I do not at the same time. My mind wracks at the mere thought of someone trying to stop my descent towards my ultimate freedom. Their hold tightens as I sigh, frustration clearly heard in my breathy voice.
I reach a hand up and lightly touch an arm that's trying with all its might to not release me into the darkness.
"Why?" I ask "Why do you try and stop me? Please, just let me end this… Let me go…"
They never answer me. I give them so much time to give me an answer… I pray with the last remaining hope I have that they will answer me and tell me words I long to hear (and yet I don't know what these words may be). I feel that God mocks me.
They never speak a word.
My hope dies.
"I said… Let. Me. Go!" with the last shred of anger my body can give, I shove this intruder away. They release their grip, and I continue to fall. I close my eyes tightly, afraid to look the failed savior in the eyes. The only thing I regret, fear, and feel any guilt for.
I continue to fall, not knowing where the ground is, but I pray and pray that it will come soon. Again, God mocks me when I am at my worst.
+.+.+.+.+.+.+
Alfred awoke as he fell from the hotel bed. His head collided with the dresser that stood neatly by the mattress. A yelp erupted from his lungs.
"Ow…" he mumbled. The blonde rubbed the slowly forming lump, while he decided to just stare at the ceiling for a while. The off whiteness of the roof somehow comforted him, and was a likeable contrast to the inky sea that was in his dreams.
That dream again… I should really figure out what the hell it means. He continued to rub at his sore head as he finally stood. Taking his glasses, Alfred glanced at the alarm clock on the small table. Panic set in when the flashing red lights read out the time as, You're Fucking Late!
Alfred raced into the bathroom, taking a showing in record time. He quickly patted himself dry with a towel before throwing it aside as he ran to his suitcase, not caring about the fact that he was naked (he was in his own hotel room, who cared?). Throwing clothes over his shoulder, not interested at the moment where they would land, trying to find the matching dress pants for the jacket. Once all was said (more like loud cursing that could be heard five doors in either direction) and done, Alfred rushed out of his hotel room with his briefcase, going to the meeting that should have started 5 minutes ago.
He neared the double cherry wood doors, feigning confidence and preparation. His stomach, which was knotting itself at that moment, spoke otherwise. He couldn't afford to be late to another meeting, and yet here he was, late… he hoped that the others were too busy arguing to notice the American slipping in. If they weren't then he'd throw a chair and see if a riot happened, then sneak in. Of course he was hoping for the former (though the latter did sound a lot more fun).
Grabbing the handle, he opened the door slightly and took a small peek. After a moment of processing, he finally accepted what he saw. Nothing. There was no one in the room at all -or what part of the room he could see. America nudged the door all the way open as he took a step in. The long table that came into his view had no papers on it and the seats placed in neatly at the edges were empty. He stopped momentarily to scratch his head, trying to gather where exactly everyone was.
"I see you didn't get the message that the meeting was canceled." A deep German accent startled the young nation. He whirled around and faced the man in the doorway. He stood straight and commanding. Alfred, though at first he really didn't want to see him of all people, still smiled.
"Hey. Germany, I guess I didn't." He laughed meekly as he rubbed the lump on the back of his head. Ludwig didn't smile back at him; instead he kept a rather calm, nonchalant expression. He crossed his arms and leaned on the door's frame.
"You should keep you phone on then." A small twitch caused the happy-go-lucky American to falter in his smile. He did have his phone on, but chose to leave it on silent because a certain Prussian wouldn't stop Tweeting in the ungodly ours of the morning. It was also one of the reasons that made him break the snooze button -he'd have to pay for that later- on his alarm clock, causing him to oversleep.
"W-well I guess I should then, huh?" He laughed, but it seemed more mechanical than usual. "I'll just go back to my room then and get some breakfast." He started to walk past the German, still holding up that smile everyone knew so well.
"Are you all right, America?" Ludwig's sudden question seemed like a snowball getting thrown in your face in the middle of July. It wasn't the fact that the German may have seen past his masking demeanor that had caused him to mentally spit take. It was the fact that it was Germany -of all people- who was asking such a thing to him. He paused in mid step before looking back. He gave the cerulean-eyed German a confused look, but that was more or less forced.
"Yeah, why?"
"… No reason." The pause showed signs of doubt, but Alfred really just didn't care. The other nation probably thought that Alfred was going through Hamburger withdraw or something. That thought alone pissed off the American more than he had realized. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep the day away. Alfred smiled again, and turned back towards his room, giving a small wave to Ludwig behind him. He frowned while he walked the rest of the way back to his bed.
+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+
Gilbert and Matthias had been trying for a good hour to coax the boy out of his room, to no avail. They tried everything, from bribes to begging. Even annoying the crap out of Alfred didn't get him to come out of the damned hotel room.
"Come on Alfie boy! Get your ass out of there!" Gilbert continuously banged on the wooded door, successfully disturbing not only its occupant, but the other guests as well.
"Ja! Gilbo's normal friends all ditched him, so it's up to us to show him an awesome time!" Matthias laughed. Gilbert stopped his hammering long enough to glare at the Dane.
"Dude, I wasn't ditched. They said they had other things to do, plus I don't hang with you guys enough, so I decided to grace you with my awesome presence." He placed a hand on his chest to emphasize himself. Matthias simply laughed.
"Oh yeah, your awesome presence is really what I needed to get my day going."
"You bet your ass it is."
As the duo continued their argument, Alfred held the overstuffed pillow to his face, trying to block out the noise. Normally the young American would be out the door, dragging his companions to the nearest bar at the first mention of liquor. However, today he just didn't feel up to it.
He'd felt a headache coming on since the morning, which seemed to be prolonging its intended ache, driving the poor nation insane. Plus the added dose of not getting enough sleep, coupled with the pain in his joints normally felt in people deprived of sleep, wasn't helping him either. He just wanted to go to sleep, but no! He wasn't allowed that comfort!
Alfred swore that his dream had to be the cause of his recent foul mood. It had been going on for a few weeks now, and he tried to calculate its meaning over and over again, but it didn't seem to make any sense at all. Like for one thing, why in the world was he content with dying! He was freaking America! He could never die! Then there was that other guy… or gal… whatever! They came out of nowhere and tried to save him, but they were falling too! How is that saving someone! That's more like double suicide!
AAAHHHHGGGG! Alfred began to mentally curse. He was frustrated beyond belief. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on with him so he could just go back to being normal… Alfred's mind unconsciously drifted back to his normal life for a moment. Almost like a whisper passing by, he quietly questioned if his so called normal life was any better or even worth going back to.
He wasn't able to ponder on the thought for much longer, for an axe (more specifically a battle axe) sunk into the room's door, splintering the wood as it was ripped from its hinges.
"Okay, ven, time to get up!" A surprisingly cheery voice called from the hallway. Alfred dared to look at Matthias, who at the moment looked more like one of his mythical demons than a person. Gilbert was behind the devil man, snickering like a school boy.
"Oh, hey guys! How's it going?" Alfred mock saluted the two as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. The duo at the door shared a glance at each other before smirking delightfully. They charged into the room without a second thought, grabbing their victim-friend, technically- by his arms and proceeded to drag him to the nearest bar. Alfred thrashed against them, but it was no use, really. So the blonde let his feet drag against the hallway carpet, hoping by some miracle that it would rescue him from his captors.
Man, this is so un-hero like…
Translations:
Ja = Yes/Yeah {Danish}
Ven = Friend {Danish}
Title: Let Us Dream
Pairing: Germany X America
Genre: Angst / Drama / Romance
Ratting: T
Warning: Contemplation of suicide, cursing, and run of the mill angst.
Plot: America keeps having a reoccurring dream where someone keeps catching him while he falls. He has no idea who it is, but does he really even care? He just wanted to keep falling in the first place.
Chapter 1: Let me Dream of the End
Summary: America has the same dream again, where he just wants to meet an end, but it never comes. Plus, it's hard to argue with an axe through your door, as Alfred comes to learn.
Warning: Contemplation of suicide, cursing, threatening people with an axe.
It all started with this dream.
When I open my eyes, all I can see is an eternity of black. I can't tell what's up or down, but I do know that I am falling. The wind that seems to be coming from nowhere, it whistles past my ears as my body plunges through the coal colored sea. I don't know when it will stop; all I know is that the ground will come soon.
And I am fine with that.
My mind does not wander to the inevitable doom of my body finally hitting the pavement; of all my bones breaking once I collide with the ground. I am not afraid of the consequences that will befall my organs that will disintegrate into a pile of mush as I dive faster and faster. I hold no regret for whatever made me pull this stunt in the first place (a reason I just can't remember). I feel no guilt for what will happen to my land and its people, nor do I care of how my family and friends will act when they hear of my tragic end. I am utterly content with my decision, and nothing will make me question my final resolution.
Until a set of arms wrap around me, bringing me close to a warm chest.
This intruder causes me to doubt my actions the instant I feel their head against the back of mine. I do not see them, for they are behind me, but then again, I do not wish to. I know who it is, though I do not at the same time. My mind wracks at the mere thought of someone trying to stop my descent towards my ultimate freedom. Their hold tightens as I sigh, frustration clearly heard in my breathy voice.
I reach a hand up and lightly touch an arm that's trying with all its might to not release me into the darkness.
"Why?" I ask "Why do you try and stop me? Please, just let me end this… Let me go…"
They never answer me. I give them so much time to give me an answer… I pray with the last remaining hope I have that they will answer me and tell me words I long to hear (and yet I don't know what these words may be). I feel that God mocks me.
They never speak a word.
My hope dies.
"I said… Let. Me. Go!" with the last shred of anger my body can give, I shove this intruder away. They release their grip, and I continue to fall. I close my eyes tightly, afraid to look the failed savior in the eyes. The only thing I regret, fear, and feel any guilt for.
I continue to fall, not knowing where the ground is, but I pray and pray that it will come soon. Again, God mocks me when I am at my worst.
+.+.+.+.+.+.+
Alfred awoke as he fell from the hotel bed. His head collided with the dresser that stood neatly by the mattress. A yelp erupted from his lungs.
"Ow…" he mumbled. The blonde rubbed the slowly forming lump, while he decided to just stare at the ceiling for a while. The off whiteness of the roof somehow comforted him, and was a likeable contrast to the inky sea that was in his dreams.
That dream again… I should really figure out what the hell it means. He continued to rub at his sore head as he finally stood. Taking his glasses, Alfred glanced at the alarm clock on the small table. Panic set in when the flashing red lights read out the time as, You're Fucking Late!
Alfred raced into the bathroom, taking a showing in record time. He quickly patted himself dry with a towel before throwing it aside as he ran to his suitcase, not caring about the fact that he was naked (he was in his own hotel room, who cared?). Throwing clothes over his shoulder, not interested at the moment where they would land, trying to find the matching dress pants for the jacket. Once all was said (more like loud cursing that could be heard five doors in either direction) and done, Alfred rushed out of his hotel room with his briefcase, going to the meeting that should have started 5 minutes ago.
He neared the double cherry wood doors, feigning confidence and preparation. His stomach, which was knotting itself at that moment, spoke otherwise. He couldn't afford to be late to another meeting, and yet here he was, late… he hoped that the others were too busy arguing to notice the American slipping in. If they weren't then he'd throw a chair and see if a riot happened, then sneak in. Of course he was hoping for the former (though the latter did sound a lot more fun).
Grabbing the handle, he opened the door slightly and took a small peek. After a moment of processing, he finally accepted what he saw. Nothing. There was no one in the room at all -or what part of the room he could see. America nudged the door all the way open as he took a step in. The long table that came into his view had no papers on it and the seats placed in neatly at the edges were empty. He stopped momentarily to scratch his head, trying to gather where exactly everyone was.
"I see you didn't get the message that the meeting was canceled." A deep German accent startled the young nation. He whirled around and faced the man in the doorway. He stood straight and commanding. Alfred, though at first he really didn't want to see him of all people, still smiled.
"Hey. Germany, I guess I didn't." He laughed meekly as he rubbed the lump on the back of his head. Ludwig didn't smile back at him; instead he kept a rather calm, nonchalant expression. He crossed his arms and leaned on the door's frame.
"You should keep you phone on then." A small twitch caused the happy-go-lucky American to falter in his smile. He did have his phone on, but chose to leave it on silent because a certain Prussian wouldn't stop Tweeting in the ungodly ours of the morning. It was also one of the reasons that made him break the snooze button -he'd have to pay for that later- on his alarm clock, causing him to oversleep.
"W-well I guess I should then, huh?" He laughed, but it seemed more mechanical than usual. "I'll just go back to my room then and get some breakfast." He started to walk past the German, still holding up that smile everyone knew so well.
"Are you all right, America?" Ludwig's sudden question seemed like a snowball getting thrown in your face in the middle of July. It wasn't the fact that the German may have seen past his masking demeanor that had caused him to mentally spit take. It was the fact that it was Germany -of all people- who was asking such a thing to him. He paused in mid step before looking back. He gave the cerulean-eyed German a confused look, but that was more or less forced.
"Yeah, why?"
"… No reason." The pause showed signs of doubt, but Alfred really just didn't care. The other nation probably thought that Alfred was going through Hamburger withdraw or something. That thought alone pissed off the American more than he had realized. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep the day away. Alfred smiled again, and turned back towards his room, giving a small wave to Ludwig behind him. He frowned while he walked the rest of the way back to his bed.
+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+
Gilbert and Matthias had been trying for a good hour to coax the boy out of his room, to no avail. They tried everything, from bribes to begging. Even annoying the crap out of Alfred didn't get him to come out of the damned hotel room.
"Come on Alfie boy! Get your ass out of there!" Gilbert continuously banged on the wooded door, successfully disturbing not only its occupant, but the other guests as well.
"Ja! Gilbo's normal friends all ditched him, so it's up to us to show him an awesome time!" Matthias laughed. Gilbert stopped his hammering long enough to glare at the Dane.
"Dude, I wasn't ditched. They said they had other things to do, plus I don't hang with you guys enough, so I decided to grace you with my awesome presence." He placed a hand on his chest to emphasize himself. Matthias simply laughed.
"Oh yeah, your awesome presence is really what I needed to get my day going."
"You bet your ass it is."
As the duo continued their argument, Alfred held the overstuffed pillow to his face, trying to block out the noise. Normally the young American would be out the door, dragging his companions to the nearest bar at the first mention of liquor. However, today he just didn't feel up to it.
He'd felt a headache coming on since the morning, which seemed to be prolonging its intended ache, driving the poor nation insane. Plus the added dose of not getting enough sleep, coupled with the pain in his joints normally felt in people deprived of sleep, wasn't helping him either. He just wanted to go to sleep, but no! He wasn't allowed that comfort!
Alfred swore that his dream had to be the cause of his recent foul mood. It had been going on for a few weeks now, and he tried to calculate its meaning over and over again, but it didn't seem to make any sense at all. Like for one thing, why in the world was he content with dying! He was freaking America! He could never die! Then there was that other guy… or gal… whatever! They came out of nowhere and tried to save him, but they were falling too! How is that saving someone! That's more like double suicide!
AAAHHHHGGGG! Alfred began to mentally curse. He was frustrated beyond belief. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on with him so he could just go back to being normal… Alfred's mind unconsciously drifted back to his normal life for a moment. Almost like a whisper passing by, he quietly questioned if his so called normal life was any better or even worth going back to.
He wasn't able to ponder on the thought for much longer, for an axe (more specifically a battle axe) sunk into the room's door, splintering the wood as it was ripped from its hinges.
"Okay, ven, time to get up!" A surprisingly cheery voice called from the hallway. Alfred dared to look at Matthias, who at the moment looked more like one of his mythical demons than a person. Gilbert was behind the devil man, snickering like a school boy.
"Oh, hey guys! How's it going?" Alfred mock saluted the two as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. The duo at the door shared a glance at each other before smirking delightfully. They charged into the room without a second thought, grabbing their victim-friend, technically- by his arms and proceeded to drag him to the nearest bar. Alfred thrashed against them, but it was no use, really. So the blonde let his feet drag against the hallway carpet, hoping by some miracle that it would rescue him from his captors.
Man, this is so un-hero like…
Translations:
Ja = Yes/Yeah {Danish}
Ven = Friend {Danish}