COUNTRYHUMANS ONESHOTS (COMPLETED)

ohshit

Germany hadn't felt anything in years.

During his high school years, he had spent hours pouring over spellbooks, ancient scrolls, anything that might have a promise of giving him wings. He remained optimistic, knowing it would be the only thing that would make him feel whole.

That was until his uncle said something.

Reich hadn't spoken in years. The doctors said he was feral, he couldn't hear anyone or anything. Germany walked into the room with Reich's pills with a book under his arms. Reich glanced at it.

"That won't work. When he wants something gone, it stays gone," Reich said in a hoarse voice. He still hasn't said anything since then.

Germany gave up hope. He threw out the scrolls, burned the books, did anything to remove them from his thoughts. They still haven't left.

Poland said he like Germany. He didn't. Germany said he liked him back. He didn't.

They started dating, and a few years after college, they had children. They were smart and handsome. Germany still didn't feel anything. He tried to be a good father, but he didn't love them. He didn't love anything anymore.

Walking home from his 9/5 job, he saw a sign taped to a building. Talking about how Britan was some kind of hero. 

Germany went straight to his uncle's house.

Germany devoted all his time to finding information about Britan, borderline stalking him until he knew everything about him.

He hatched his plan there.

------

"That was nice," France whispered as she and Britan walked along the sidewalk. France was living in an apartment in the city, so Britan was being a gentleman and taking her back home.

"No problem, darling," Britan said, kissing the top of her head. She giggled. They got to her apartment.

"Before I go," she said, touching Britans arm gently. "Have you seen Germany lately?"

"No. Why?"

"No one has seen him since Monday," France said. "Not even Poland or his kids."

"He's probably going on a trip," Britan suggested. France smiled at him before walking to the building door.

"Goodnight, mon petit ami," France said cheerfully before closing the door. He smiled after her. After a rough breakup, the two had started dating again. The kids were happy to have their mom back in the house. He pulled out his phone and put the GPS back to his house.

Britan began to hum. He didn't remember where the song had come from or who it was by, but he knew it well enough to be able to hum it a little bit. He walked down a shady alleyway that the GPS led him through. He had stopped humming.

The humming didn't stop.

Britan began to walk quicker. The humming seemed to be coming from all sides, he couldn't tell where or who it was coming from.

Britan finally got to his apartment building. He ran up the stairs and into his apartment. He opened the door and locked it. Sighing, he went to his bedroom.

He heard the song he was humming begin to play.

Britan reached to lock the door before it was thrown open. The force in which it was opened made him fall backward. A foot drove into his stomach, making him yelp in pain.

"I don't want to set the world on fire, the ink spots. Good song," Germany said.

"What is the meaning of this?" Britan squeaked out, the pressure of Germany's foot making his voice raise up an octave.

"Do you remember about 15 years ago?" Germany asked. Britan felt a sense of dread building up in his stomach.

"Germany, please. I've changed," Britan pleaded, struggling under Germany's foot.

Germany chuckled darkly. "N