Prussia couldn't sleep. He tried to close his eyes, tried to force his mind to keep quiet. He sat up, running his hands through his hair. His mind raced. He sighed, standing, and walked to his window, looking out into the long, deep night. He felt sick. He glanced back at his arm, still bandaged, but almost healed. He was getting stronger. It had been several days, and he hadn't left his room or spoken to anyone. He hadn't slept or eaten. It wasn't Russia's doing. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to eat. He couldn't face them, any of them, especially Latvia and Lithuania.
He sighed, watching the faint lights of the city flicker in the night. The stars shone above the mournful buildings, sparkling happily. Prussia turned away. He slumped into a chair at his table, tracing the knife mark with his fingers. The table had been stained red permanently. He hated it. He hated everything. He'd betrayed his people. He'd agreed to let them be killed in exchange for the back of someone who couldn't die. He closed his eyes. He would still fight. Quietly, carefully. He wouldn't let Russia hurt any of them again, but he would help his people. He would make it possible for them to get to West. He wasn't sure how, but he would find a way.
He turned, hearing a knock on the door. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was 5 am. He sighed, unsure if he wanted to answer. Another knock.
"G-G-Gil?"
"Latvia..." Prussia whispered, sighing. He stood, walking to the door. He had to face him. The boy could say whatever he wanted. He deserved it. He opened the door slowly, letting a stream of dim light through the dark room. Latvia stood behind the door, his blond hair messy. He wore a loose tee-shirt, blood-pricked bandages clearly visible on his shoulders, and sweat pants. Prussia forced himself to look at him, the boy's eyes turned to him, shining with tears.
Prussia nodded him inside and closed the door, encasing the room in only the dim starlight again.
"G-G-Gil... are you mad at me?" Latvia bit his lip, looking down, rubbing his hands together nervously.
"What?" Gil asked, stunned.
"I'm sorry I cried.... I'm sorry, I tried n-not to I really did, it just-"
"Shush." Gil knelt, looking into Latvia's face. "What are you talking about, I'm not mad at you."
"You haven't come to talk to me since... everything... and Liet won't talk to me, and Estonia won't talk to me, not that he ever talks to me, and Poland is mad at Russia, and Ukraine is trying to get them to be friends again, and Hungary is scary and you're locked in here and you all hate me, and I'm really sorry..."
Prussia sighed, shaking his head. "No one hates you."
"I'm, I'm, I'm really, really s-s-sorry I cried." Latvia brushed his eyes with his wrist, biting his lip harder, trying not to cry.
"I'm not mad at you for crying. I'm not mad at you at all..." Prussia shook his head, trying not to look at the bandages on Latvia's shoulders. He sighed, touching Latvia's shoulders, gently. "Does it still hurt?"
Latvia nodded, "Not like Liet..."
"I haven't talked to him yet."
"You haven't talked to anyone, Gil." Latvia almost snapped.
Gil sighed, "I know. Does Liet hate me?"
Latvia bit his lip, "I don't know."
Prussia sighed, "He probably should. I should have given in to Russia sooner, I shouldn't have let him hurt you... I just..."
Latvia looked up at him, "He's not mad because you didn't give in sooner..."
"Why is he mad then?" Prussia wasn't sure if Latvia knew the answer, but he asked anyway.
