PruAme Fanfictions

The end.

It was a cloudy, rainy day, it actually suited the circumstance quite well. It has been over 900 years since he was first brought into this merciless world, 70 or so years since he died. Today was the day that he was leaving this wretched world. The one that he held so close to his heart, despite more than 90% of it forgetting that he and his legacy even existed. The black eagle of the north. The kingdom of Prussia. The one who fought to protect whatever ideals he had at the moment. To protect the ones he loved. He was now leaving, already forgotten by most. Gilbert had gone to the park to meet up with his friend, the great united states of america. He envied him. He loved him. He adored him. The albino wished to be him. To have a nation, a military one again. To have people love him. To have people care about him. To have people know who you are. He wasn't going to get any of that. No, not anymore. His time has passed. Now it was Alfred's turn. The raining picked up and it was now pouring. Gilbert felt something off, an extreme pain through out his entire body. All his muscles tensed up at the same time causing him to fall to the ground. There was obviously something wrong with him. "Gil...?" Came a worried voice, faint to his ears and now closed eyes. "Gil" he heard the name repeat. "Gilbert!" He opened his eyes slightly to stare up at the others, a weak smile across his face. "I...I'm sor...ry." He mumbled out, his strength quickly dropping. He knew no one else would care anyways. He accepted his fate long ago. "No! Stop! Get up! Don't say that!" The American voice said, the rain making it almost unable to tell that he was crying. It was such a worried expression. "Don't look at me so...." He had mumbled, the faint, weak smile still across his lips as a hand reached up and cupped his cheeks. "A smile better suits a hero." He said, his own smile soon fading away, his body had gone limp and his hand had fallen. He was dead. The great Kingdom of Prussia, the Tutonic Knights, the one who has lived so long, who was so strong that he seemed to be invincible, had died. Just like that. It was a pitiful death with no real honour, but one he accepted just the same.