Killing Time, Part 1 of 4
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:17:40 UTC
Original request: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/4567.html?thread=5766615#t5766615, dying soldier meets his country, already had at least three fills. I reinterpreted the country as a more traditional psychopomp figure in this one. This is by the same author as "Gloria Patri", and can be seen as a sort of sequel, or at least in the same continuity.
A/N: This fic is set during the negotiations in Paris after the end of hostilities in World War I, and consequentially also during the flu pandemic that killed more people in six months than the war did in four years. All the European powers suffered major outbreaks, America had half a million deaths, Canada's health care system was overwhelmed, but the some of the areas hit the very worst were in Australasia and Oceania, including Australia and New Zealand--respectively known as James and Lewis in the fic. However, wartime censorship meant that most in countries the press could not report on the flu
( ... )
Killing Time, Part 2 of 4
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:20:12 UTC
Rouen, same day.
Sergeant Robert Martin was dying, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. The doctors agreed, the nurses agreed...Martin even agreed quite heartily, as much as he was capable of doing anything heartily at the moment. Lungs weren't supposed to feel like water balloons in one's chest, nor were they supposed to make that crackling sound. Martin had never been a bookish type but even he could be quite sure of thatHe was quite sure that any reasonable person would agree with him, if they were allowed in to observe. Not that that was going to happen, of course, but dying was a slow process and he could halfway amuse himself by imagining the reaction of various reasonable people. Even if it was also a bit depressing to imagine himself provoking expressions of abject horror. He'd had rather enough of those over the years
( ... )
Killing Time, Part 3 of 4
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:22:28 UTC
"There but not here." Now that brought the kind of laugh brothers at arms ought to be able to share. Martin could feel now that he hadn't died completely useless. "One certainly could put it that way, yes
( ... )
Killing Time, Part 4 of 4
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:25:14 UTC
They were now standing--and the upright position carried a kind of delicious novelty to Martin that he supposed only toddlers would be able to sympathize with--not in the influenza ward off a French military hospital, but on a vast expanse of Canadian tundra, featureless white snow beneath them as far as the eye could see, featureless blue sky above. He had seen such a landscape only once before and yet it had haunted his dreams for years, the stark brilliance of it all. The only touch of life or color was Lt. Williams--if one could even still call him such when his uniform had melted away in favor of flowing red robes under a thick beaver cloak and a diadem of maple leaves in autumn shades
( ... )
Killing Time, Part 5 of 4 (Math fail!)
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:26:41 UTC
"...and if that dog named Rover won't bark, Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart. And if that horse and cart fall down, you'll still be the sweetest little baby in town
( ... )
Re: Killing Time, Part 5 of 4 (Math fail!)
anonymous
May 9 2009, 10:56:48 UTC
Mmm, yes, that mention of Gloria Patri certainly brought me running. And this is just as fucking glorious a fic, if not even more so. I love the humor and subtlety in the interactions between Canada and his Sergeant, and am and have been far, far more fond of the idea of Lieutenant Williams than I should be. ♥
And the ending of the flashback, oh my god. fsljfdjlsa;
Please write more Canada. Better yet, please write more of this Canada. I'm rather in love with him.
Oh THIS request!!!
anonymous
May 9 2009, 16:44:06 UTC
Dude, you didn't tell me this was the request you were filling when you asked me to beta XDDDDDDDDDDD I was reading last night and thinking, "damn, this is really good. I love her writing. I miss it. She should totally write more... eh, I wonder where she's going with this piece?"
Now you've got me thinking of traditional garb, and what the HELL America's looks like that he trips in it habitually. *snerk*
A/N: This fic is set during the negotiations in Paris after the end of hostilities in World War I, and consequentially also during the flu pandemic that killed more people in six months than the war did in four years. All the European powers suffered major outbreaks, America had half a million deaths, Canada's health care system was overwhelmed, but the some of the areas hit the very worst were in Australasia and Oceania, including Australia and New Zealand--respectively known as James and Lewis in the fic. However, wartime censorship meant that most in countries the press could not report on the flu ( ... )
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Sergeant Robert Martin was dying, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. The doctors agreed, the nurses agreed...Martin even agreed quite heartily, as much as he was capable of doing anything heartily at the moment. Lungs weren't supposed to feel like water balloons in one's chest, nor were they supposed to make that crackling sound. Martin had never been a bookish type but even he could be quite sure of thatHe was quite sure that any reasonable person would agree with him, if they were allowed in to observe. Not that that was going to happen, of course, but dying was a slow process and he could halfway amuse himself by imagining the reaction of various reasonable people. Even if it was also a bit depressing to imagine himself provoking expressions of abject horror. He'd had rather enough of those over the years ( ... )
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And the ending of the flashback, oh my god. fsljfdjlsa;
Please write more Canada. Better yet, please write more of this Canada. I'm rather in love with him.
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It it wrong to want more???
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Now you've got me thinking of traditional garb, and what the HELL America's looks like that he trips in it habitually. *snerk*
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i love your fics ♥
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