And I'm only human.
I said I'm only human.
And I'm only human.
I said I'm only human.
I'm human.
xFlowers for a Ghost- Thriving Ivory
When things go wrong in the world, they tend to go really wrong. Not just a little wrong, like the type of wrongness bad luck might bring, but really, really wrong.
This was one of the things that Gilbert acknowledged as fact when he found himself drafted into the second Great War. It had been any other day; completely normal really. The self-proclaimed Prussian (as the Prussian empire had been deemed dissolved by the rest of the world) had dropped in on his to best friends, Roderich and Elizabeta in Austria, where he had promptly been hit with a frying pan after making one too many pretty boy jokes to get a rise out of the enraged Hungarian's husband.
Now, Elizabeta and Roderich had married during the first Great War, much to Gilbert's displeasure; there was something weird about seeing two of your childhood friends get married. Oddly enough for the time, Eliza had not taken Roderich's surname, opting instead to keep her own. This wasn't much of an ordeal at the time, as it was one of the ways the silverette could convince himself that they weren't really married (a bit of a fantasy world he chose to indulge in often). However, as Adolf Hitler came to power and the second Great War began, Gilbert began to thank whatever deity was out there that Eliza hadn't taken Roderich's name, and, for once, the Austrian agreed with him whole heartedly.
Roderich was Jewish, and his last name gave him away. When rumors spread of Jewish citizens being carted away on trains to work camps, Elizabeta had nearly given herself a heart attack with panic. Gilbert had reassured her, though his own doubts brewed in the inner workings of his mind. Gilbert often feigned stupidity (it kept people from expecting too much from him.) but he knew when something was happening. The air was thick with it, and it didn't bode well in his lungs.
Suspicious, the Prussian wrote his brother, a German soldier, only to have his fears confirmed. The rumors of the camps were true.
Gilbert had taken Roderich aside and showed him the letter from Ludwig. He and the Austrian had always grated each other's nerves growing up, but they were still best friends and Gilbert didn't want to see anything happen to the brunette. Roderich sat down heavily in his chair.
"There's nothing that can be done." He said in German, "I am Jewish, and so is my last name." His violet eyes shut as he tried to think, desperately trying to grasp at something that might save him from this inevitable truth. Gilbert was one step ahead.
"My cousin; he lives in Switzerland, right on the border of Liechtenstein. His name is Vash. He can help you. Switzerland will no doubt stay out of this war like they did the last; they want no part of it." The Prussian insisted quietly, so as not to alert the excitable Hungarian woman to anything, "Please, go stay with him. Please."
Gilbert did not beg often, and the Austrian's face softened, "You think there's something more going on." He didn't ask, but rather, stated, before shaking his head and saying gently, "Gilbert, they're just work camps. When the war ends, I'll be home again. While it's not ideal, I'm sure it will be best to go with their whims." The silverette was shaking his head furiously.
"There is something else going on Roderich." His tone was low and serious, underlined by the fact that he was using the brunette's real name instead of a nickname, "Why put you in a camp in the first place? Roderich, they're targeting you. Work camps are for those who have committed crimes. They're a jail sentence. So why are they condemning the entirety of the Jewish religion? It doesn't add up."
Roderich's face twisted, like it often did when Gilbert made a valid point he'd missed, and he finally gave in, sighing, "Either way, it's not smart to run. Won't that just alert them?" Again, Gilbert shook his head.
"Not if you leave early enough." He insisted, "If you leave now, it won't seem suspicious. The camps are still rumors to citizens. It will be too late by the time word spreads that they're real. Please, Roderich, you need to leave the country. Now."
"I'm not even German. We're in Austria for God's sake. Nothing's going to happen here." The Prussian's face hardened and that evening, he left, opting to stay in a hotel for the night before heading home to what was now widely considered East Germany.
Upon arrival, Gilbert gathered his mail in his hands and entered his apartment, sinking into his couch and flipping through the letters. There were only four. One was a post card from his little brother, who was stationed in West Germany at the moment. Another was a letter from Eliza and Roderich, who, at the time of sending, had not known Gilbert would be coming to stay for a couple of days. The third letter was from his cousin, Vash, telling him about how Lili was and how things were doing in Switzerland. The final letter was from the German military.
The Prussian opened it slowly and his heart sank. He was going to war, drafted into the German army. The silverette ran his fingers through his hair several times in an anxious manner, debating whether or not to send word to his friends and family of the development. He decided against it; no need to make them worry now. He had heard tales of the German S.S. He couldn't say they were good. Gilbert sighed a second time.
'I need a drink…' He thought.