Things I'll Never Tell You (Austria & Schweiz)

[alphyn]

Austria’s Recovery Post WWII

< Reference: www.bmeia.gv.at/en/foreign-ministry/news/speeches-and-interviews/2005/thank-you-switzerland.html >


It felt as if nothing had changed. Walking through the streets, there was still despair in the eyes of the remaining people. Buildings teetered on collapse even with new supports, placed to rebuild them. War was such an atrocity, Vash always hated it. He had vowed Swabian would be his last, and to the point it had remained so. However he could never keep himself completely out of it. Ever the Humanitarian, Switzerland couldn’t deny someone in need. Even the neighbour he’d sworn never to acknowledge. When he’d been annexed and essentially left to die after World War II Vash knew he wouldn’t be able to stand by and let the other rebuild by himself. It was impossible, and everyone else was too distraught with their own damage and poverty to help anyone but themselves, Vash included. But there was a part of him that couldn’t watch a nation fade into oblivion, and he knew Austria was on the brink of doing so.

There had been a lot of discussing with Soviet Russia over the ordeal, simply being allowed to visit his ex-friend. He was surprised to learn he was the only country even being allowed in to some parts of Austria’s home, but he assumed that was due to his neutrality. Switzerland never stated it to anyone, how badly he felt walking through the debris, how deeply he could hear the devastation and sorrows as if it were his own people. Like the mercenaries of old he kept a stone face, carefully moving feet over blood stained stones and remains of household treasures destroyed by bombs from the allied powers. Steadily, he made his way through Vienna to Austria’s current residency. Still in shatters, there was a lot of work to be done, and the evidence was clear on the other nation’s body.

---

When he’d initially found Austria a short while after the end of the war, Switzerland had nearly feared his neighbour had passed on. Seeing him battered and bruised worse then any wars he’d found him after in the past, worse then what he’d seen his precious sister like after World War I. Switzerland had been amazed when Austria had even registered his presence. The man was lying in debris and blood in what was his capitol. Whether the blood was Austria’s own, his people, the Nazis, or the allied powers Vash had no clue, but it certainly wasn’t healthy for Austria to be lying in it. Switzerland had stepped closer to help his neighbour wake (if he was still alive) and had then been taken back by the sight of the other’s legs. Mangled and torn up well beyond use, Austria wasn’t going to be walking for a good while, again, if he was alive.

”Austria… Austria…!” he’d tried calling out to the other, gently jostling his shoulder to awaken him, ”Österreich! …”

”Roderich!!” he screamed, now fearing his neighbour was truly gone. But when he’d seen the other finally show signs of life, even if it was just the barest of groans and shifting of his body, Vash had barely been able to suppress himself. Dropping his head down and locking his tears away he lifted it once more, moving over beside the other nation to help him up and take him to the Red Cross.

”I know you probably can’t hear me well but your people are being attended to. They’re going to receive help alright?” Switzerland tried to keep his voice as official and emotionless as possible. It’s just how things were supposed to be, ”If you die on me now I’m never going to hear the end of it from Hungary. I can already hear Prussia laughing in the realm of our ancestours. You don’t want to put up with that for eternity do you?”

It wasn’t normal for him to talk so much. Not to this person. This person never deserved his conversation in his mind. Switzerland had trained himself not to speak, not to socialize. It would only bring downfall in his mind. But for once he couldn’t help himself. Was it reassurance for himself the other nation was alive? Who knows. All Vash did know is that he wasn’t able to shut himself up that long walk to the Red Cross station.

---

Standing in the now though, looking over the small shelter that would serve as Austria’s capitol for now, Vash felt a small bit of pride that he’d been able to help another to this point. Again though, he never showed it. Solidarity, that was his philosophy with these sort of things. Give not to receive back, but to the well being of others.

Switzerland knocked on the doors before allowing himself in, knowing Austria wouldn’t be answering quickly. He always liked to make the other aware of his presence though. Even in hardships one must be aware of their manners, for sometimes it’s the only thing that will keep you sane. And if anything, sanity was the one thing Austria needed most right now.

”Your children learn fast Austria,” Vash spoke officially stepping into the main room. He knew Austria wouldn’t be there. More likely he was probably confined in his room, not by force, but by will. It had been the same after World War I. But… back then Vash didn’t want much to do with anyone either; no one did really.

Stepping through the room, Switzerland made his way quietly to Austria’s room, hidden in the back of the make-shift home. He knocked again, before opening the door softly. Vash kept his eyes emotionless, not wanting to let his neighbour see anything in him, any sort of life, while Roderich himself had none. That’s how Vash saw it.

Opening the door fully, or at least he attempted to. When the wood ceased moving, Vash craned his head over to see the wheelchair partially in the way. There was still enough room to let himself in though, which Switzerland did.

”Have you gotten out of bed today to try moving around?” he asked with his usual irritated scowl. Arms folded sternly over his chest like a chiding mother. Like always Switzerland, like always.

[reticence]

Austria didn't remember.

He didn't remember being brought somehow to Switzerland's home, didn't remember even being brought back to Vienna from Germany's home. But beyond that, there were stretches of weeks, of months and perhaps even years that he simply Did Not Remember.

Switzerland had told him how he'd been found in the rubble of his capital, how he'd been brought all the way back to the Red Cross' nearest setup in Vienna before transported back to the home that had been set up for him, and Austria wasn't sure if he caught a flush or just evening light as the man told him that of course he would help anyone he'd found alive in such a condition, that it hadn't been personal.

He wondered, though.

Just as he wondered about a lot of things that would never pass his lips. He was already too much a burden to the smaller man. Questions about his own odd amnesia weren't going to make things any better... perhaps he could ask Germany, one day, or even France or Prussia. Later, later.

When that knock came upon his door, Austria had been reading, propped up against the headboard of his bed. Well... perhpas less reading and more staring at the pages, trying to /remember/. He vaguely remembered the first time he awoke... after. In Switzerland's care. How the man had been unfamiliar to him, and had spoken to him with such a casual tone that bordered on cruelty. He hadn't said anything. Or perhaps he had said everything. He only remembered the mush his mind had been, swimming in morphine. If he had asked "Who are you?" or anything else, Switzerland never asked him what he meant by it. At least, that he was aware of. The only memory from that painkiller-filled moment of conciousness was the other speaking to him in Swiss-German, leaning over him. The words were forgotten, along with much else.

Some days were better than others. Austria slowly became less Roderich Edelstein and more Republik Österreich... in as much as there was one as power was slowly being returned to Austrians from the quardruple-ruling Allies. Perhaps that's what brought him back to himself more. Yet still he wondered about Hungary, worried about Germany and Prussia even as much as he worried about his own people. They would do well on their own. There was nothing he could do but recover. It wasn't as if he could walk among them inspiring courage and camraderie or anything.

The knock came; the blonde followed. It was the sort of politeness that he had been taught since he was small and smiled exponentially more than frowned. He tried to smile as the door opened, but it felt awkward. False. Brushing a hand back through his bangs so they'd stay tucked back as was his habit, he merely turned his head toward the other's question, the hard set of arms and jaw and it made him want to slink back under borrowed blankets and face the wall and beg sleep to come to him. He slept too much as it was.

"Ah." It was as good as no, as well as the wheelchair by the door was. "There hasn't been any reason to." The answer was simple, if a bit fatalistic, but true enough. Switzerland always came at the same time; the results were always the same. It should have encouraged Austria to do something on his own before the other arrived, but he often ended up losing himself in his thoughts or dozing off again and then that knock came as succinctly as a church bell: it was too late.

[alphyn]

”There’s always a reason too,” Vash argued back softly. Unfolding his arms he moved the wheelchair over to Austria’s bedside, trying to encourage the other to get in. ”And there’s a little more reason today then others to get out and try moving around. I think it’s time you saw the progress your people and home have taken, and it’s a nice day out to do so.”

Switzerland could feel the will of the Red Cross flowing through him as he held onto the wheel chair, turning it slightly, and looking the to Austria. When the other had first arrived he had needed Switzerland for nearly everything: getting in and out of his wheelchair, getting dressed, hygiene, eating, pushing him along in the chair even. Some tasks had been a little bit harder for the Swiss to perform with a straight face then others, but that all came with the job. If he wasn’t going to do it… who was? Everyone was in a state of recovery now. Even Vash and his darling sister had to pick up broken pieces though they had taken no part in the war.

Once in the wheelchair, Vash let Roderich maneuver on his own. He was well capable now, even if he didn’t try much. Switzerland did however open doors for him and the like. Even if Austria was capable, there was a certain social responsibility Switzerland felt, that compelled him to do it. At least… that’s what he convinced himself it was. Some might speculate otherwise upon later review.

”There was a new Library finished today in Vienna. I thought you might like to go there and maybe try resurfacing some of your memories,” Switzerland tried to keep his voice soft, knowing it was a touchy subject, ”It’s a bit of a distance though so if you’re hungry or some such best take care of that now. We won’t be making any stops on the way there unless it’s necessary. I made some baked potatoes earlier if you’re interested. It’s not much but it’s what we have today.”

Suisse kept his gaze mostly focused forward, leading the way. Occasionally he’d look back to Austria when speaking, or turn his head slightly so the other could hear him better, but he never looked directly at Roderich other then a few occasions. He liked keeping their interactions as few as possible. Austria did need moral support, but as far as Switzerland was concerned empathy would be the last thing he’d offer to the other nation, even amidst all this chaos and ruin.