I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant: PruAus

How can a man not know he was pregnant? With no weight gain, no cravings, and no symptoms. This is a true story of a man going into labor without knowing he was ever pregnant.

Austria was having an okay day, he supposed. Apart from the odd aches in his stomach (dear Lord he hoped it wasn't stomach flu), it was a pretty nice day. The sun was setting ever so prettily and he had relaxed in his home all afternoon, work free. On top of that, he had a date with Prussia tonight. To say that would not be exciting was lying; everything was exciting when it came to the over hyper, over eager Prussian. First, however, he had to drop Hungary off at Belgium's house. They had planned a "Yaoi Party" with Japan and Taiwan that night, but Hungary's car had broken down so she had called Austria to give her a ride. He had agreed so long as she paid for the gas and did not explain "yaoi" to him. How he had ever lived through marriage with her, he did not know.

He pulled up to Belgium's driveway, and looked over to Hungary when he stopped. "We're here," Austria announced as if she couldn't see on her own. "I expect you to give me my gas money within a week."

Hungary rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear. Of course. Our years of friendship mean nothing compared to money." Austria was not amused. She smiled at his scowl. "Within a week, got it. Thanks, Austria!" And with that, she got out of his car, closing the door behind her.

"Good bye, Hungary." Now to go get Prussia, he thought as he sped off in the direction he had come from. They had been planning their date all week, and Austria knew just where he wanted to go. It wasn't cheap – nothing for Austria was ever cheap (except his patched up underwear). After a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, they could go back to either house and have some fun because, well, you know, it's fun. Yes, such a perfect date he had in mind and he had every intention of making it go off without a hitch. Even if those damn pains continued to come.

Honking on the car horn as soon as he pulled into Prussia's (it was really Germany's, but that was hardly important) driveway and waited a bit impatiently for said nation to show up. A moment later, he did. The pale man came running out the house and got into the Austrian's car so fast that Austria was certain light traveled like molasses for Prussia. "Hey," he greeted, flashing Austria a pretty smile.

"Hello, Prussia," the Austrian replied, returning the smile with a slight twitch of his own lips. "How was your day?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "Awesome as usual." Austria rolled his eyes.

When it was silent for a moment, Austria said, "My day was fine, thanks for asking, except fo-" A sharp pain spread through Austria's body, one that hurt far worse than the others. He slowly hissed at the feeling and grit his teeth. Once it had passed, he looked over at Prussia, who appeared worried. "I'm fine," Austria sighed. "Those weird pains were the bad parts of my day, but they don't last long." And just as he finished his sentence, another pain came.

"Pull over, Austria," Prussia instructed. "You are not 'fine.'" Gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white, he did just that. After accomplishing his task, Austria breathed in heavily, held his breath for three seconds, and then released it in an effort to distract his attention from the pain to his breathing.

Austria was not entirely sure what happened after that. There was a lot of pain, a fainting Prussian, screaming at said pale man "Das bedeutet nicht helfen!", and finally a shrill cry echoing around the car.

"Mozart," Prussia called. "Mozart, where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are, Mozart!" Prussia smirked to himself; the kid couldn't hide forever and he knew just the way to pry him out of his mysterious lair. Which neither he nor Austria knew the location of – it was just somewhere in the house. But no matter, Mozart would show himself soon enough. He always did when he was called. "Mozart!"

A few more callings and Prussia finally got a response. "Stop calling me that!" And there the boy appeared with a cape billowing out behind him, disgruntled and unhappy looking. "My name is Wolfgang! Wolf-gang. I hate it when you guys call me that. What's the point in giving me an awesome name like Wolfgang if you never call me that? And Mozart wasn't even cool!" Wolfgang crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

Prussia wanted to just fawn over him and compliment how cute he looked when he pouted and how much he loved those purple eyes flashing ever so angrily and how much he adored the messy mop of platinum blond hair upon that little head of his. But that would ruin his badass rep so he said instead, "Your father wants to know if you took his sheet music."

Wolfgang straightened up immediately. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he responded indignantly. "But no matter. I'm done reviewing it and I've made the necessary corrections. He may have my revised version, but he may not have the garbage he had originally composed back." With that, he took a fist full of cape in his hands and swung it as he turned around, presumably to his lair to fetch the revised music.

Blink. Blink blink. The Prussian stared at the spot where his son had just been, his mind slowly understanding the sass he had just heard. Smirking, he called, "Thanks, Mozart!"

"That's not my name!"

A/N: If you're a douchebag and you know it clap your hands :) Be assured I clapped. Hi guys, long time no see. The translation for the German courtesy of Google Translate is "That does not help." The kid's full name is Wolfgang Amadeus Beilschmidt. When I had originally named him, I hadn't realized I named him after Mozart (Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, if you didn't know). And when I did, I had to make the joke. I had to.

Here is my apology. I am sorry. I don't know what else to say other than what I have done is unforgivable and you all have the right to hate me. I will take this hate in stride. But this is the start of Season Two and would you all stay with this it'd mean a lot to me. I love you guys, and I hope you can love me with all of my douche-canoe-ness. And my lame Phantom of the Opera allusion with the lair and the cape and musical genius thingy. Because I will put up with that for you guys.

Also, I have a question. How many of you guys actually read all of the chapters? Like, I go and look at the views for each chapter sometimes and they are just up and down and up and up and down and down. So I was wondering, am I the only one who is forced to read these things word for word?