“Germy, Germy?” your adorable four year old voice called inquisitively.
Toddling along the long hallway, you opened the door to his room. Completely tidy, but no Germy, you thought to yourself. Closing the door carefully, you stepped back into the hallway, determined to find the man you were looking for.
You looked into every single room upstairs, so you continued your journey by going into the kitchen. He was there, peeling potatoes in his frilly pink apron. Giggling uncontrollably, Germany’s attention was quickly directed upon you.
“I found you Germy! Come on, I wanna show you something. “Pulling on his pants leg, you dragged him to your room.
He opened the door, growing anxious as to what he would find. The once white walls were now recently decorated with misshapen drawings of Germany and yourself. There was also another small picture of Prussia wearing nothing but his unmentionables. All around the edges of the wall were the flags of all the nations you learned about from grandpa. And to top it all off, this work of art was done with permanent markers.
Germany counted to ten and ignored the eye twitching. He was going to be calm, don’t overact, he told himself. She is only a child after all. Plus the paint for her room wasn’t that expensive. This is just a way to be creative, right?
“(y/n), if you are going to draw, do so on paper. “ His voice cracked a bit towards the end.
“You’re right, I did mess up on your nose.” Picking up the black sharpie, you generously added to Germany’s nose.
He lost it. He reached for your tiny arms, pinning you down to the floor. Practically whispering/screaming, he cursed fluently in German. Gesticulating towards the wall, he finally calmed down and wagged his finger at you.
“You are going to help me clean this mess and promise to never do this again. Is that clear?” he added with a stern gaze.
“Yes vati.” You began trembling; you had really hoped he would like it. The lump began forming in your throat, hot tears formed in your eyes. You wanted to make him happy, but it seems that all you did was disappoint him.
When Germany returned with a pail and scrub, he noticed the small droplets making their way down your puffy cheeks.
“Schatz, I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just,” he sighed, “sometimes daddy gets angry too much. I’m not mad, how about we clean this mess together?” A ghost of a smile was on Germany’s lips as he handed you the bucket. Nodding vigorously, you helped get rid of the marker madness on your walls.
After cleaning, you both ate lunch together. You were about to reach for your water when your “awesome” uncle came in.
“Prupru!” you greeted him.
“My almost as awesome as me niece! Did you miss the awesome me?” Prussia said with a smirk, lightly tousling your hair.
“Yes! It’s so boring without you!”
At the dinner table, Germany was trying to neglect the pang of jealousy that overcame him every time someone else held (y/n). Prussia took a seat next to (y/n) and joined them in some less than pleasant (for Germany) conversation.
The daylight hours waned away into the evening and it was finally time for bed. Tucking her in gently, Germany finished his lullaby and closed the door quietly. He took a final peek at his adorable (y/n). Sadness flooded him as he realized that you were a miniature replica of your deceased mother.
Later that night, you had a horrible night terror where your Vati left you at a park. The once inviting park turned into a dark, cold wasteland. Running to catch up to him, someone hooded figure grabbed at you and dragged you all across the park. When the monster finally stopped, you looked you straight in the eye with his miserable black pits and said, “You worthless fool, all you do is make everyone abandon you.”
Gasping loudly, you sat up, terrified of what you just envisioned. The floor was freezing cold as you made your way to Germany’s room. As you reached for the doorknob, you realized that he had not yet fallen asleep and he was speaking to someone.
“Gott,(m/n), raising a child on my own is so difficult. I don’t know if I can do this by myself. I’m so scared that I’m going to manage to screw this up. Our daughter deserves better than me. I don’t want to lose her, but it’s so hard. What if I am a bad parent? I am not a gentle person, what if I yell at her too much? I’m just not cut out for this… “
“Vati,” Germany turned around, shocked at your intrusion, “there is no one better than you as a father. Even by yourself, you’re doing a good job. I love you daddy.”
He squeezed you into a tight hug and covered you with kisses. His sweet little (y/n), he would give anything for her. He carried her into his bed and held on to her for the rest of the night. No matter how difficult it would become, he would keep fighting for his daughter.
“I love you too, my little engel.”