Chains Part 8
*Edited*
Characters: Denmark, Norway, Prussia
Warnings: hints of non-con, outright mention of torture, swearing
Summary: Prussia finds out
A couple of days later, Prussia knocked on Denmark's door. Denmark opened it, blinking in the bright sunlight.
"I want beer,'' Prussia said. Denmark groaned and glanced at the hall clock.
"You ask me for beer at ten in the morning?" Denmark asked. "What's wrong with you?"
Prussia shrugged. ''I want beer,'' he said, ''and Germany kicked me out of the house for the day.'' Denmark sighed, but let him in anyway.
''I don't have any in the kitchen, so lemme check the basement. You can wait in the kitchen,'' Denmark said as he opened the basement door. Prussia frowned.
''Who the hell doesn't keep beer stocked in their fridge,'' he muttered. He stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, tapped his fingers on the table and then quickly got bored. He got up from the table and went into the living room. He won't mind if I sit on the couch. It's comfier. He sat on the couch and put his feet on the metal coffee table infront of it. Then he noticed that the light on the VCR was blinking.
''The hell,'' he muttered and picked up the remote.
Meanwhile, Denmark was looking for the beer. The basement was big and cluttered. Denmark cursed as he tripped over weapons and furniture.
''Now where did I keep that fridge?" he wheezing. He tripped over one, particularly large sword and fell, tossing up centuries of dust. I should clean this thing. He took a deep breath and coughed again. He didn't know how long it had been. Prussia must be getting impatient by now. He probably would have wandered out of the kitchen by now....Oh, shi-the tapes! I forgot to put them away. Denmark swore and quickly made his way back to the stairs. He rushed up them and into the living room.
Prussia was frozen, the remote dangling from his fingertips. The tape played on the screen in front of him. Denmark avoided looking at it and shut off the VCR. The screen went black and Prussia blinked.
"Denmark,'' he said slowly, ''where the hell did you get this from?"
Denmark sighed and sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch. ''They were in your brother's office.''
"What? Why would he-" Prussia groaned. ''Of course....he knew I wouldn't touch his office...'' He gipped his hair and took several deep breaths.
"Everything makes sense now..." he said. ''The way he was acting, why he seemed to never sleep, even the cleaning.'' Denmark shrugged.
''He was good at hiding it?'' he suggested. Prussia snapped his head up to look at him.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" He threw the remote at Denmark's head. Denmark dodged it and it clattered to the floor.
"It wasn't my secret to tell," he said weakly.
"Bullshit," Prussia snarled, "I'm your best friend. You should have told me!" He reached for the book that was on the coffee table and hurled it at Denmark's head. Denmark ducked.
"I wasn't supposed to know about it in the first place!" he defended. Prussia eyed the table underneath his feet. Denmark did not like that look.
"Prussia," he started, "don't-"
"Shut up." He got up and gripped the underside of the table. Denmark grabbed his axe from it's resting place beside the TV and held it infront of his face.
"Please don't throw that," he begged, "Sweden's going to kill me if anything happens to it."
"Too fucking late." Prussia threw the table at Denmark's head. Denmark swung the axe and the table shattered, peices of glass flying everywhere. Prussia lowered his arms, panting.
"I would have wanted my brother to tell me," Denmark said quietly into the silence, "If something like this had happened to him." Prussia moaned and sumped onto the ground, back resting against the base of the couch. He buried his head in his hands.
"I should have seen it. I'm his brother," he muttered, more to himself than Denmark. Denmark put the axe back, picked up the remote, set it on the table and then walked over to crouch beside Prussia.
"You haven't been acting like it in a while," he said.
Prussia looked up at him. "What?"
"You used to call him by a nickname in meetings, you never do anymore," Denmark said. "You always disparage him. You fight with him, you play pranks on him without thinking of the consequences-"
Prussia held up a hand. "I get it. I get it." He slumped back, further onto the floor. "What do I do now?"
Denmark shrugged. "Just be there for him?" he suggested.
Prussia stared at him. "How the hell do I do that?"
Denmark gave him a look. "I have no idea."
Prussia tugged at his hair. "Great, just great. I find out my brother's been tortured and r-r-r...." he dug his nails into his arms. "I can't say it."
Denmark was at a loss. "We could ask Norway," he suggested, "he always knows what to do."
"Norway knows." Prussia's tone was flat.
"I trust him." Denmark said. "I needed advice."
"Who else knows?"
"No one." Denmark replied. ''I didn't want to have it spread. Who knows how everyone would react." Prussia nodded. Both of them could think of nations that would take advantage of this.
"I'll call Norway." Denmark said and got up from the armchair. He walked into the hallway and picked up the phone.
Norway groaned as the phone rang. He reached for the handset and picked it up. ''What now Denmark?" he could hear a suprised gasp.
''How'd you know it was me?"
"You're the only one who calls me this often." he stirred the pot on the stove and turned down the flame. "What do you need?" He could hear Denmark's sigh on the other end. "What happened Denmark?"
"Prussia knows." Norway needed to sit down. He made his way to the dining table and sank into a chair. "Nor are you still there?" came Denmark's concerned voice from the handset.
"Yeah, I'm here," he replied. "What did you say?"
"Prussia knows," Denmark repeated. "I forgot to hide the tapes," he said a little sheepishly.
Norway sighed and brought a hand up to his temple. "Do you want me to come over?" he asked, already getting up from the table and turning off the stove.
"Please?" Denmark's voice was pleading.
Norway turned the lights off and grabbed his keys. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes." He could imagine the scene at Denmark's house: Prussia would be in shock and Denmark would be attempting to comfort him and failing. He hurried to the car.
Characters: Denmark, Norway, Prussia
Warnings: hints of non-con, outright mention of torture, swearing
Summary: Prussia finds out
A couple of days later, Prussia knocked on Denmark's door. Denmark opened it, blinking in the bright sunlight.
"I want beer,'' Prussia said. Denmark groaned and glanced at the hall clock.
"You ask me for beer at ten in the morning?" Denmark asked. "What's wrong with you?"
Prussia shrugged. ''I want beer,'' he said, ''and Germany kicked me out of the house for the day.'' Denmark sighed, but let him in anyway.
''I don't have any in the kitchen, so lemme check the basement. You can wait in the kitchen,'' Denmark said as he opened the basement door. Prussia frowned.
''Who the hell doesn't keep beer stocked in their fridge,'' he muttered. He stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, tapped his fingers on the table and then quickly got bored. He got up from the table and went into the living room. He won't mind if I sit on the couch. It's comfier. He sat on the couch and put his feet on the metal coffee table infront of it. Then he noticed that the light on the VCR was blinking.
''The hell,'' he muttered and picked up the remote.
Meanwhile, Denmark was looking for the beer. The basement was big and cluttered. Denmark cursed as he tripped over weapons and furniture.
''Now where did I keep that fridge?" he wheezing. He tripped over one, particularly large sword and fell, tossing up centuries of dust. I should clean this thing. He took a deep breath and coughed again. He didn't know how long it had been. Prussia must be getting impatient by now. He probably would have wandered out of the kitchen by now....Oh, shi-the tapes! I forgot to put them away. Denmark swore and quickly made his way back to the stairs. He rushed up them and into the living room.
Prussia was frozen, the remote dangling from his fingertips. The tape played on the screen in front of him. Denmark avoided looking at it and shut off the VCR. The screen went black and Prussia blinked.
"Denmark,'' he said slowly, ''where the hell did you get this from?"
Denmark sighed and sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch. ''They were in your brother's office.''
"What? Why would he-" Prussia groaned. ''Of course....he knew I wouldn't touch his office...'' He gipped his hair and took several deep breaths.
"Everything makes sense now..." he said. ''The way he was acting, why he seemed to never sleep, even the cleaning.'' Denmark shrugged.
''He was good at hiding it?'' he suggested. Prussia snapped his head up to look at him.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" He threw the remote at Denmark's head. Denmark dodged it and it clattered to the floor.
"It wasn't my secret to tell," he said weakly.
"Bullshit," Prussia snarled, "I'm your best friend. You should have told me!" He reached for the book that was on the coffee table and hurled it at Denmark's head. Denmark ducked.
"I wasn't supposed to know about it in the first place!" he defended. Prussia eyed the table underneath his feet. Denmark did not like that look.
"Prussia," he started, "don't-"
"Shut up." He got up and gripped the underside of the table. Denmark grabbed his axe from it's resting place beside the TV and held it infront of his face.
"Please don't throw that," he begged, "Sweden's going to kill me if anything happens to it."
"Too fucking late." Prussia threw the table at Denmark's head. Denmark swung the axe and the table shattered, peices of glass flying everywhere. Prussia lowered his arms, panting.
"I would have wanted my brother to tell me," Denmark said quietly into the silence, "If something like this had happened to him." Prussia moaned and sumped onto the ground, back resting against the base of the couch. He buried his head in his hands.
"I should have seen it. I'm his brother," he muttered, more to himself than Denmark. Denmark put the axe back, picked up the remote, set it on the table and then walked over to crouch beside Prussia.
"You haven't been acting like it in a while," he said.
Prussia looked up at him. "What?"
"You used to call him by a nickname in meetings, you never do anymore," Denmark said. "You always disparage him. You fight with him, you play pranks on him without thinking of the consequences-"
Prussia held up a hand. "I get it. I get it." He slumped back, further onto the floor. "What do I do now?"
Denmark shrugged. "Just be there for him?" he suggested.
Prussia stared at him. "How the hell do I do that?"
Denmark gave him a look. "I have no idea."
Prussia tugged at his hair. "Great, just great. I find out my brother's been tortured and r-r-r...." he dug his nails into his arms. "I can't say it."
Denmark was at a loss. "We could ask Norway," he suggested, "he always knows what to do."
"Norway knows." Prussia's tone was flat.
"I trust him." Denmark said. "I needed advice."
"Who else knows?"
"No one." Denmark replied. ''I didn't want to have it spread. Who knows how everyone would react." Prussia nodded. Both of them could think of nations that would take advantage of this.
"I'll call Norway." Denmark said and got up from the armchair. He walked into the hallway and picked up the phone.
Norway groaned as the phone rang. He reached for the handset and picked it up. ''What now Denmark?" he could hear a suprised gasp.
''How'd you know it was me?"
"You're the only one who calls me this often." he stirred the pot on the stove and turned down the flame. "What do you need?" He could hear Denmark's sigh on the other end. "What happened Denmark?"
"Prussia knows." Norway needed to sit down. He made his way to the dining table and sank into a chair. "Nor are you still there?" came Denmark's concerned voice from the handset.
"Yeah, I'm here," he replied. "What did you say?"
"Prussia knows," Denmark repeated. "I forgot to hide the tapes," he said a little sheepishly.
Norway sighed and brought a hand up to his temple. "Do you want me to come over?" he asked, already getting up from the table and turning off the stove.
"Please?" Denmark's voice was pleading.
Norway turned the lights off and grabbed his keys. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes." He could imagine the scene at Denmark's house: Prussia would be in shock and Denmark would be attempting to comfort him and failing. He hurried to the car.