A/n:hmm I like this fic. Took me awhileto write it. Yaay! Second fic in two nights ! a new record!
Surrender
He ran, running as fast as he could, ducking the bombs that exploded the bullets near his ear. Germany couldn't stop for the soldiers that cried out in pain, the innocent civilians. He had to defend the city. The Russians were here.
"Prussia!" He called out. "Prussia where are you?"
His gun in his good hand, Germany glanced around. No sign of his brother. Germany kept on running until he reached the bunker where his boss had killed himself only a day or so earlier.
He was pushed by a group who was fleeing. He stopped to catch his breath, then ran inside. The bunker was quiet, empty considering the amount of people in it before.
"Prussia!" He yelled. "Prussia! They're here! Where are you?"
A high ranking official was sitting at a table. Germany approached him.
"Excuse me? Have you seen my brother?"
The man looked up.
"No Mr. Germany."
Germany sighed and started to walk away, but then turned around when he saw the official take out a gun from his coat.
"What are you doing?" Germany asked.
The man looked at him, blankly.
"I made a promise," he stated. "I wouldn't surrender."
His heart pounding, Germany ran the bang of a gunshot in the background. Then silence. He looked down and noticed his hand was shaking, tightening up into a fist. His concern for the man made him want to look back, but his thoughts edged him on to go back to the search.
Germany was out on the street again, the Russian soldiers around him. He had to fight. He could not surrender. He'd fight to the death. Berlin would fight until the last building fell. But he could not get that man out of his mind. How he would do anything to defend his honor. Would Germany be able to do that?
He shot once or twice, crouching down in a hole in the middle of the street. He noticed the dying soldiers around him, who screamed in agony, had gushing wounds, some, missing limbs, next to the already pale, cold, dead. Was it worth it to sacrifice all these men?
He heard another shout. Above, Prussia was in a fight with Russia. Germany climbed out of the hole, and started to run again.
"Prussia! Prussia!"
There was another deafening bang.
Prussia collapsed to the ground, wincing. He let out a scream. His hand covered his stomach; drops of blood splattered his glove. He gasped; sweat dripping down his face, his breaths more shallow.
"PRUSSIA! "
He had knelt down next to his older brother, a hand under his shoulder. Germany could see the wound, a gaping hole, reddish- purple, staining Prussia's hand…
He heard Russia reload his gun and point it at the two. The Russian's expression was of rage, rage and resentment against the occupation Germany had forced upon Russia only three years earlier.
"One more move, you'll be next," Russia sneered.
Germany saw his life flash before his eyes, the events of the past year clearer than ever in his head. The screams of the inhabitants of the city, the rebellions in the occupied states, the struggles to hold on…
He couldn't. He didn't have the strength anymore. His brother might be dying. He couldn't have more people die.
He stared into Russia's purple eyes; his voice shook but tried to keep steady.
"I surrender," he said. "I surrender."
Prussia looked at him shocked, his hand trembling, trying to speak.
"No," Germany answered Prussia's unspoken plea. "I have to. It's the only way. I can't."
The other Allies were arriving. They surrounded Germany and Prussia and pointed their guns at them.
Germany gently put Prussia on the ground, stood up, his hands in the air.
"I surrender."