((This story is going to be fun. Call me crazy if you like, but I think Herr Stick is a great character, and I wanted to give him more development and backstory. The only stories I can find with him are weird GermanyxHerr Stick crackfics, so I did it myself. That's right: A serious story about Herr Stick. You're welcome.
When I told my mom that Germany's best friend before meeting Italy was a stick, she said 'Well, duh. He's Germany. Nobody likes him.' xD Speaking of my mom, she insists that I write a script for an episode of Hetalia based on Eurovision. I haven't seen Eurovision and she doesn't even watch Hetalia, yet she is adamant that I write it. *Facepalm*
Also, in case you can't tell, this story is set in the early 1900s. For now, anyway. Oh yeah, and the dictionary stuff came from whatever dictionary is on my mom's Kindle, since I wrote that bit at the park and it was the only dictionary I had access to.))

Little Germany sat on the floor, playing with his toy armies. He was a young nation, about a century old, and lived with his older brother Prussia. Although he was young, he was a fairly mature child, and was generally quiet and well behaved. The same could not be said for Prussia, who despite being the supposed older and more mature brother, was a bit of a moron.

Germany carefully advanced his soldiers, laying siege to the small block castle he had built. Just as they were about to overtake the north side, Prussia ran in, smashing the castle and strewing fallen soldiers across the floor.

"Bruder! You ruined it!" Germany exclaimed, glaring at Prussia and gently gathering up his soldiers.

"What? You serious, West? You've been doing that for two hours now," Prussia said, not understanding why his little brother was so upset.

"That's because sieges take a long time," the small blonde said matter-of-factly. "And you just ruined it."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Ja, whatever. Anyway, the Awesome Me is going driving with my awesome friends. So you just stay here and be good and do whatever totally un-awesome stuff you do," he told Germany. "Just like, don't talk to strangers, and don't burn the house down or whatever. Or do if you want, I don't care, just make sure you take a photo of it because I don't want to miss something so awesome."

"You're going driving?" Germany repeated, suspicious.

"Uh-huh! France got this totally awesome new car," Prussia explained. "I heard it can go up to 30 miles an hour! Like, how awesome is that?!"

"Please don't crash it this time…"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Prussia replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, Spain's driving this time."

Germany shuddered, remembering the last time Prussia's cheerful Spanish friend drove a car.

"So yeah, I'll be back later. There's food in the icebox if you get hungry, just don't drink my beer, ok?" Prussia said, patting his brother's head affectionately.

"…You'll be careful, right?" Germany asked, slightly worried about his big brother.

"Relax! You know nothing can hurt the Awesome Me, I'm far too awesome for that," Prussia assured him.

"Alright then. Bye-bye," Germany said, giving Prussia a goodbye hug.

"Ja, see you later." With that, Prussia left, leaving little Germany all alone.

Germany sighed and started cleaning up his armies.

"And the invasion was going so well…" he mumbled sadly. With Prussia gone, he felt slightly uneasy, and didn't really feel like trying to stage another invasion. Putting the armies and the blocks carefully back in the toy chest, he pondered what to do next. There really wasn't much to do without Prussia around, and he likely wouldn't be back for several hours.

"Come to think of it, Prussia sure has been going out with Spain and France a lot lately… I wonder why?" Germany wondered out loud, frowning thoughtfully. What was so great about those two that his big brother had to spend all his time with them, instead of taking care of him? Not that Germany wasn't capable of taking care of himself for a while, but… Well, he got lonely some times, and quite frankly every time Prussia left he became ever-so-slightly paranoid that that creepy Russia guy would try to take over.

Germany considered this carefully, trying to think of a reason for Prussia to spend so much time with them. It wasn't anything political, as their bosses didn't seem to be involved, and there was nothing to gain from it that Germany could see. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't think of a logical reason for them to be together all the time.

"Hmm… There was something… Didn't he call them 'friends'?" Germany mumbled to himself. He wasn't entirely sure what the word meant. Was a friend some sort of word for an ally that he didn't know about? Curious, he decided to consult the dictionary.

Germany walked over to the bookcase full of reference materials (Not that Prussia ever used any of them), and with some difficulty managed to retrieve the large dictionary. Nearly falling over from its weight, he quickly stumbled over to the couch and sat down. He flipped it open to the F section.

"Friend

n.

A person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations.

(Used as a polite form of address or in ironic reference) an acquaintance or a stranger one comes across: My friends, let me introduce myself.

(One's friends) Archaic One's close relatives.

A person who supports a cause, organization, or country by giving financial or other help: The Friends of the Welsh National Opera.

A person who is not an enemy or opponent; an ally: She was unsure whether he was friend or foe.

A familiar or helpful thing: He settled for that old friend the compensation grant.

(Friend) A member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker," Germany read aloud.

"None of this makes any sense," he decided, getting frustrated. There were too many definitions, too many abstract meanings. None of it seemed to clear things up at all, and if anything, he was only more confused. He slammed the dictionary closed angrily and ran off, deciding save his questions for later and build another block castle instead.

Germany sat on the couch, playing with his stuffed dog, Schatzi. He was just teaching Schatzi how to roll over (He wasn't a very good listener) when he heard someone opening the door. Germany jumped, startled. Suspicious, he grabbed a book to use as a weapon and crept towards the door.

"West! I'm back!" shouted a familiar voice. Germany immediately ran to hug his older brother.

"Bruder! I thought you were Russia," Germany admitted, a little scared.

"Nope, last time I checked I'm 100% awesomely Prussian," Prussia replied, laughing a little. "Did you miss me?"

"Yeah, a lot," Germany said, nodding. "You didn't run over anything, right?"

"Just a squi- I-I mean nein, of course not," Prussia lied.

"PRUSSIA!"

"Hey, Spain did it, not me! Anyway, uh, let's go make dinner. The Awesome Me is getting hungry," Prussia announced, and went to the kitchen, with his younger brother trailing behind him.

Germany sat down at the small kitchen table, his short legs dangling from his chair. Meanwhile, Prussia began preparing a stew.

"Hey, Bruder, what are 'friends'?" Germany asked innocently.

"…Huh?" Prussia said, ever the genius.

"What does 'friends' mean?" Germany repeated. "I don't get it at all. I looked it up, but it didn't make any sense… The dictionary said they're either people you're not related to, allies, or… Oatmeal." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Oatmeal?"

"Uh-huh."

"…You mean Quakers?" Prussia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Like the oatmeal," Germany explained.

Prussia burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?!" Germany demanded, embarrassed.

"Nothing, nothing," Prussia insisted, trying to stop giggling. "Anyway, you really don't know what friends are?"

Germany shook his head. "I've heard the word before, but I don't understand the meaning. You seem to know a lot about it, so please explain it to me."

Prussia thought about it for a moment, not quite sure how to explain it. He was a little surprised that his brother didn't know what friends were. It was true that he didn't exactly have the most active social life, but still.

"Friends are like… hmm… They're people you like. And you hang out with them, and you trust them."

Germany gave him a blank stare. Prussia sighed.

"Ok, think of it this way. Let's say you get really drunk," he began, "And you accidentally blew up the bar and got arrested for arson. In prison they let you make one outside call, so you call your friend. A normal person would be like 'Mein Gott! How could you do something like that?! That's so un-awesome! You menace to society!', but a friend would say 'Relax, man! No need to worry! I've got money, I'll bail you out! No problem!' Make sense?"

"…So a friend is someone who bails you out of jail?" Germany repeated, not quite believing his explanation. Prussia facepalmed.

"Nein! Well, yes, but that's not the point…"

"Then what IS the point?" Germany asked. He was starting to suspect that Prussia didn't actually know what he was talking about after all.

"The point is, friends are people you can rely on. They're… Well, kind of like siblings, but not actually related to you," Prussia explained. "Ah! Dinner's ready!"

The two nations ate their dinner in peace. Prussia told many fantastic tales about his driving misadventures, but Germany wasn't really listening; His mind was on other things. He thought hard about what Prussia had told him, about "friends". The more he thought about it, the more he felt he was slowly beginning to understand. More than that, even. He felt like there was something missing from his life he had never noticed before, a hole in his heart that could only be filled by friends (and not oatmeal). The boy soon began to formulate a plan. He smiled to himself, pleased with his accomplishment.

Oh yes. He knew just how to get a "Friend". Soon he would have friends, just like Prussia and his friends. It would be perfect.