Hallo! I have another story for you all! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
It was a chilly October day, a sign that winter was starting to take its toll on the land. A young, blonde-haired man with baby blue eyes had gotten up early despite his body's will to do so. He took in a deep breath, remembering how important this day was. He slicked his hair back, put on his uniform, and went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. His heart was still racing, no matter how exciting this day was. He grabbed a beer bottle and chugged it down his throat until it was almost empty. Once he was done, he grabbed a pickax and headed outside.
As he walked on, he started to grow nervous, his face etched with worry. What if his brother wasn't there? What if he had died in that bastard's house? What if bringing down the cursed wall killed him? He shook his head and tried to think of his brother's red eyes and constant, cheerful, annoying laugh, but in the back of his mind, he was still worried.
When he got to the wall, he stared up at the graffiti written by his people. Some of the art was just for amusement. The other pieces of art had more meaning put into them. His eyes were slowly directed to one of the pictures, his people being trapped within the wall. He shuddered when he remembered the cries of his people being barricaded in their own country, the screams of his brother being dragged away behind the wall, and his own sorrows about being trapped inside his own house. He shook away the bad memories and looked up at the wall. Finally, after 28 damn years, that wall was going to be torn down.
And then he would see his brother.
He didn't even notice that he had fallen asleep by the time he was poked in the shoulder. He woke up from his daze and stared at the old man. "Have you been here all morning?" the old man asked.
"J-ja," the latter stuttered. He got up. "I've been waiting all night."
"Why?"
"My brother."
"Ah." The two of them faced the wall. "I can't believe it's actually coming down. I never thought I would see it happen," the old man said. He brushed a tear from his eye and turned to the younger. "Don't be worried. I'm sure that your brother survived." He pat the man on the back and walked away.
Germany gave way to a sad smile as he looked back up at the wall. Thousands of people were now coming near the portion of the wall. He could feel their anticipation trembling behind him. He didn't mind though; he was trembling as well. The beat of his heart was fast paced. Slowly, he took up his pickax and thrust it towards the wall.
Soon enough, everyone was attacking the wall. Germany could hear the joyous shouts of his people, the cheering, the crying, as the wall started to be broken, bit by bit. 28 years of the wall separating east from west, being destroyed in their very own hands. He never felt a feeling like this before, so much happiness and hope placed in his heart at once. He felt tears prick his eyes, but he refused to cry. His arms started to ache, but he didn't care. This wall was coming down whether it wanted to or not.
He then looked up and saw that his people were taking things into their own hands. He saw people climbing over the wall and being helped back down to the ground by people below. He watched as the people of his country helped the East Germans cross the wall. He tried to push himself towards the wall, but people kept on pushing him back. He still wasn't going to give up, though. He was still looking for one person. One very important person.
Then he heard it.
"West!"
He froze as the sound of the voice rang through his ears. It couldn't be...no...it was! Germany turned around and his baby-blue eyes were met with crimson ones. They scanned the smaller, lean figure with a scarf wrapped around his neck, his head bandaged, and a thick jacket covering his body. His heart did several leaps and turns in his chest as he ran up to him.
"Prussia!"
He and his brother tackled each other in a loving embrace, their arms, although very cold, bringing warmth to their bodies. Germany's eyes glistened with tears as he breathed in the foreign, yet familiar scent of his brother. He ran his hand through the shorter one's silver hair, never wanting the moment to stop. "Es tut mir lied, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," he murmured, holding onto his brother tighter. "I thought you were gone, I thought you were dead, I thought I would never see you again...es tut mir lied...I'm so sorry…"
"I'm here, I'm back, its okay now West," his brother replied, holding onto him. The albino let out a little sniffle. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," Germany murmured. The own walls that held back his tears broke. His eyes flooded with salty water and his tears poured onto his brother's jacket. Prussia let out a soft laugh of relief and cried with him, all sadness and fright disappearing from his mind. The two brothers held onto each other for a long time before one of them spoke.
"Bruder?"
"Ja?" Germany asked. He reluctantly pulled himself away from his brother. "Vat is it?"
"I..." Prussia murmured, stumbling over his words, "I...well I…the awesome me wants to go home." He pulled his scarf over his mouth and neck and played with the hem of it nervously.
Germany smiled softly and took his brother's hand. He held it tightly. "You are home," he said. The Prussian and hugged his brother one more time. "When we get home, can we have some wurst?" he asked.
"Ja."
"Und beer?"
"As much as you want."
"Kesesese~"
Germany laughed softly. "I'm just happy you're back home bruder," he said. Prussia laughed, punched his brother lightly on the shoulder, and walked back home, where some beer and wurst had been prepared, and a warm welcome back party was in store for the Prussian.
Sorry if it seemed too rushed. Hopy you liked it!
Review! Review!
