[Fanfic] One and Indivisible
May. 3rd, 2010 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blood_wingedTitle: One and Indivisible
Genre: General/Romance-if-you-squint
Pairing: AustriaxSwitzerland
Rating/Warnings: U. Fluff? History abuse?
Summary: During the French attempt to impose central authority over Switzerland in a war that spanned five years (Helvetic Republic;1798 - 1804), Vash, in an act of desperation, turns to the one person who least expected it.
Totally dedicated to![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
lemiru
Swaying on his feet and looking as if he’d been dragged through hell and back, stood a certain blonde-haired Swiss, barely maintaining his consciousness as well as his balance as he breathed uneasily and leaned against the doorframe. He was unarmed, bruised and bloodied, his jaw set and eyebrows drawn together as he glared darkly at a spot somewhere around Roderich’s midriff. Roderich looked him up and down, conflicting emotions flickering over his face, snapped out of his astonishment by Elizabeta’s shocked gasp.
“Jó ég..” she breathed. “Is that Svájc?”
Roderich didn’t have the time to reply before Vash’s knees buckled and he pitched forwards, and the Austrian caught him without a second thought. Thrown off-balance by the sudden weight Roderich wrapped both arms around the smaller man and stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Vash’s forehead was resting against his neck, and he was so warm…
“Elizabeta, help me,” he said then, and between them they half pulled, half carried the unconscious blonde into the house. It was an awkward affair to get Vash into a position where Roderich could lift him into his arms – it seemed that he wished to make the Austrian’s life difficult even while passed out – but he managed it, and looked down at Elizabeta as she touched his arm, a worried frown on her face.
“Take him upstairs, I will heat some water,” the Hungarian told him, and hurried towards the kitchen. In the meantime, Roderich carried the smaller man up to one of the unoccupied bedrooms and laid him down carefully, hoping that the sounds of his wife heating water wouldn’t draw Feliciano from his room with giddy demands for pasta. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought as he settled Vash on the bed and sat beside him. The Austrian couldn’t remember ever seeing Vash look like this. They had both been through their fair share of wars, usually with Vash coming out relatively unscathed on the other side, but this...
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of almost smug satisfaction. This man, who had always told him to get stronger and fight, who had always scorned him for being weak, had come to him in his hour of need. He let out a soft breath and shook his head – he could gloat later, it was hardly fair to do it now. Vash barely stirred as Roderich removed his jacket and shirt, half-way through folding them before he caught himself and simply dropped the torn, stained clothes to the floor. He kept his touch gentle as he lifted each of the smaller man’s arms and unwound the dirtied bandages covering dark bruises and cuts. His torso was next, and he propped Vash up, stilling as the man’s head fell against his shoulder.
“What are you doing here, Switzerland,” he muttered, dropping the bandages beside the bed and gently lowering him. He brushed his fingers over the man’s soft hair, moving it away from his pale face, glancing up as Elizabeta entered. “Just leave the bowl there, I will see to him,” Roderich told her, the expression on his face leaving no room for argument. She nodded, leaving clean cloths behind, and only when the door closed behind her did the Austrian pick one of them up and soak it, wringing the water out.
It was a simple enough thing to clean the dried blood and dirt from the cuts and scrapes littering the Swiss man’s body, hesitating each time he heard a quiet hiss of pain or felt Vash flinch away from the contact. As time wore on, unnoticed by Roderich as he concentrated only on the ashen, bruised skin under his hands, it seemed that Vash calmed, his breathing eased, and even the faint frown that had lingered on his brow smoothed. Still, though, he didn’t wake.
When every wound was tended to Roderich removed the man’s boots and pulled the sheets over him, reasoning that it was more than his life was worth to try and strip any more of Vash’s clothes. As he turned to leave he heard a quiet groan, glancing over his shoulder in time to see dulled green eyes crack open. For a moment, their gazes locked, then Vash sat up abruptly, immediately hissing and curling forwards, both arms wrapped around himself.
“Careful!” Roderich chided, ignoring the glare that followed, finding it somewhat ineffective when the blonde was doubled over in pain. Vash spat a couple of insults under his breath but didn’t resist as he was pressed back against the pillows, looking away as slender fingers checked over his wounds. The Austrian sat beside him, and for several minutes neither of them spoke. The silence hung uneasily, and Roderich was the first to break it, quietly clearing his throat.
“Va-”
“It’s not that I couldn’t have gone to somebody else.” Vash was glaring at the window, the walls, looking at anything but Roderich as he spoke. “You were just closer.”
I came to you because I trust you.
“I understand,” the taller man replied, keeping his voice impassive. He didn’t doubt that Vash could still pack a punch even in this state.
You know I’ll help you if I can.
More silence. Vash appeared to be struggling with something, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the sheets and that frown back on his face. He shifted, and gritted his teeth.
“What is it? Does something hurt?” Roderich shifted forwards and almost touched him, but pulled himself up short.
I want to feel complacent… but I hate seeing you like this.
“No, nothing, I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”
I wish I didn’t need your help.
“Vash, please.”
I know.
Roderich bore the heavy atmosphere for a little longer before he stood, and turned away from the bed. If Vash wanted to sulk then he was free to do so, but the Austrian had other things to do. He headed for the door, his fingers touching the handle when a hand fell on his shoulder. Vash was on his feet, his grip on Roderich’s shoulder just a little too tight, his forehead resting between the brunette’s shoulderblades, his voice holding the faintest, faintest hint of desperation as he forced out four words in a reluctant muttering.
“I… need your… help.”
I hate myself for this.
“Ah…”
You’re too proud.
He turned, and waited, until Vash let out a quiet grumble and lifted his head, meeting the other man’s gaze. Now it was Roderich’s turn to frown. To somebody who did not know Vash very well, he wouldn’t look any different, but Roderich, who had spent so much of his childhood with this man, could see quite clearly the heavily veiled plea in his eyes.
“Austria. Roderich.”
Please.
“Get back into bed, Vash.”
Vash gaped at him, and looked down, swallowing once and nodding. If he had been anybody else, Roderich might have called him meek as he slid back under the sheets, resuming his attempts to crack the glass in the window with how hard he was glaring at it.
“Rest now, and I will speak to my boss as soon as I can.”
I could never say no to you.
He smiled, and when the Swiss man finally looked at him, he was certain that he saw a faint uptilt at the corners of his lips. Vash inclined his head, watching as Roderich gathered up the dirtied cloths, the remains of Vash’s clothes and the bowl, and moved towards the door for a third time.
“… I…”
“It is quite alright.”
The Austrian slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him, and Vash stared at the ceiling for several long moments, before he let out a soft chuckle and smiled, shutting his eyes.
Thank you, Roderich.
*****
Yes, the title is a play on the 'motto' used at the time, for you history buffs (Miru).
Genre: General/Romance-if-you-squint
Pairing: AustriaxSwitzerland
Rating/Warnings: U. Fluff? History abuse?
Summary: During the French attempt to impose central authority over Switzerland in a war that spanned five years (Helvetic Republic;1798 - 1804), Vash, in an act of desperation, turns to the one person who least expected it.
Totally dedicated to
lemiru *****
The knocking was so quiet that Roderich barely heard it over the sound of his playing, needing Elizabeta to tap him lightly on the shoulder and tell him that there was someone at the door. He kissed his wife’s hand and smiled warmly at her as he rose from his seat at the piano and went to answer, and who he found there was the last person he would have expected.Swaying on his feet and looking as if he’d been dragged through hell and back, stood a certain blonde-haired Swiss, barely maintaining his consciousness as well as his balance as he breathed uneasily and leaned against the doorframe. He was unarmed, bruised and bloodied, his jaw set and eyebrows drawn together as he glared darkly at a spot somewhere around Roderich’s midriff. Roderich looked him up and down, conflicting emotions flickering over his face, snapped out of his astonishment by Elizabeta’s shocked gasp.
“Jó ég..” she breathed. “Is that Svájc?”
Roderich didn’t have the time to reply before Vash’s knees buckled and he pitched forwards, and the Austrian caught him without a second thought. Thrown off-balance by the sudden weight Roderich wrapped both arms around the smaller man and stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Vash’s forehead was resting against his neck, and he was so warm…
“Elizabeta, help me,” he said then, and between them they half pulled, half carried the unconscious blonde into the house. It was an awkward affair to get Vash into a position where Roderich could lift him into his arms – it seemed that he wished to make the Austrian’s life difficult even while passed out – but he managed it, and looked down at Elizabeta as she touched his arm, a worried frown on her face.
“Take him upstairs, I will heat some water,” the Hungarian told him, and hurried towards the kitchen. In the meantime, Roderich carried the smaller man up to one of the unoccupied bedrooms and laid him down carefully, hoping that the sounds of his wife heating water wouldn’t draw Feliciano from his room with giddy demands for pasta. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought as he settled Vash on the bed and sat beside him. The Austrian couldn’t remember ever seeing Vash look like this. They had both been through their fair share of wars, usually with Vash coming out relatively unscathed on the other side, but this...
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of almost smug satisfaction. This man, who had always told him to get stronger and fight, who had always scorned him for being weak, had come to him in his hour of need. He let out a soft breath and shook his head – he could gloat later, it was hardly fair to do it now. Vash barely stirred as Roderich removed his jacket and shirt, half-way through folding them before he caught himself and simply dropped the torn, stained clothes to the floor. He kept his touch gentle as he lifted each of the smaller man’s arms and unwound the dirtied bandages covering dark bruises and cuts. His torso was next, and he propped Vash up, stilling as the man’s head fell against his shoulder.
“What are you doing here, Switzerland,” he muttered, dropping the bandages beside the bed and gently lowering him. He brushed his fingers over the man’s soft hair, moving it away from his pale face, glancing up as Elizabeta entered. “Just leave the bowl there, I will see to him,” Roderich told her, the expression on his face leaving no room for argument. She nodded, leaving clean cloths behind, and only when the door closed behind her did the Austrian pick one of them up and soak it, wringing the water out.
It was a simple enough thing to clean the dried blood and dirt from the cuts and scrapes littering the Swiss man’s body, hesitating each time he heard a quiet hiss of pain or felt Vash flinch away from the contact. As time wore on, unnoticed by Roderich as he concentrated only on the ashen, bruised skin under his hands, it seemed that Vash calmed, his breathing eased, and even the faint frown that had lingered on his brow smoothed. Still, though, he didn’t wake.
When every wound was tended to Roderich removed the man’s boots and pulled the sheets over him, reasoning that it was more than his life was worth to try and strip any more of Vash’s clothes. As he turned to leave he heard a quiet groan, glancing over his shoulder in time to see dulled green eyes crack open. For a moment, their gazes locked, then Vash sat up abruptly, immediately hissing and curling forwards, both arms wrapped around himself.
“Careful!” Roderich chided, ignoring the glare that followed, finding it somewhat ineffective when the blonde was doubled over in pain. Vash spat a couple of insults under his breath but didn’t resist as he was pressed back against the pillows, looking away as slender fingers checked over his wounds. The Austrian sat beside him, and for several minutes neither of them spoke. The silence hung uneasily, and Roderich was the first to break it, quietly clearing his throat.
“Va-”
“It’s not that I couldn’t have gone to somebody else.” Vash was glaring at the window, the walls, looking at anything but Roderich as he spoke. “You were just closer.”
I came to you because I trust you.
“I understand,” the taller man replied, keeping his voice impassive. He didn’t doubt that Vash could still pack a punch even in this state.
You know I’ll help you if I can.
More silence. Vash appeared to be struggling with something, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the sheets and that frown back on his face. He shifted, and gritted his teeth.
“What is it? Does something hurt?” Roderich shifted forwards and almost touched him, but pulled himself up short.
I want to feel complacent… but I hate seeing you like this.
“No, nothing, I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”
I wish I didn’t need your help.
“Vash, please.”
I know.
Roderich bore the heavy atmosphere for a little longer before he stood, and turned away from the bed. If Vash wanted to sulk then he was free to do so, but the Austrian had other things to do. He headed for the door, his fingers touching the handle when a hand fell on his shoulder. Vash was on his feet, his grip on Roderich’s shoulder just a little too tight, his forehead resting between the brunette’s shoulderblades, his voice holding the faintest, faintest hint of desperation as he forced out four words in a reluctant muttering.
“I… need your… help.”
I hate myself for this.
“Ah…”
You’re too proud.
He turned, and waited, until Vash let out a quiet grumble and lifted his head, meeting the other man’s gaze. Now it was Roderich’s turn to frown. To somebody who did not know Vash very well, he wouldn’t look any different, but Roderich, who had spent so much of his childhood with this man, could see quite clearly the heavily veiled plea in his eyes.
“Austria. Roderich.”
Please.
“Get back into bed, Vash.”
Vash gaped at him, and looked down, swallowing once and nodding. If he had been anybody else, Roderich might have called him meek as he slid back under the sheets, resuming his attempts to crack the glass in the window with how hard he was glaring at it.
“Rest now, and I will speak to my boss as soon as I can.”
I could never say no to you.
He smiled, and when the Swiss man finally looked at him, he was certain that he saw a faint uptilt at the corners of his lips. Vash inclined his head, watching as Roderich gathered up the dirtied cloths, the remains of Vash’s clothes and the bowl, and moved towards the door for a third time.
“… I…”
“It is quite alright.”
The Austrian slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him, and Vash stared at the ceiling for several long moments, before he let out a soft chuckle and smiled, shutting his eyes.
Thank you, Roderich.
*****
Yes, the title is a play on the 'motto' used at the time, for you history buffs (Miru).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: it's okay to hijack threads right
Date: 2010-05-05 04:12 pm (UTC)No. I mean you find bullshit excuses to 'explain' my craptacular spelling/grammar.Well I'm glad you approve and are willing to make me rich 8D I guess I'll just have to write it now.
and I'll totally include some slashyness on purpose. Where's the fun otherwise?Re: it's okay to hijack threads right
Date: 2010-05-05 11:35 pm (UTC)oh lol, I forgot what my previous comment said and lost all track of conversation, sobIt'll give me something to do while I'm waiting to complete school (I'm not going to be out of school until I'm 29. I counted. Although there are internships, and I'm going to a school located in Montréal
hopefully, and I'm crossing my fingers that they'll let me intern in Europe. My college aspirations, let me spill them on you).