The Moment
Loud noises.
Yelling from one person to another, a man trying to find his daughter, a woman crying; in despair or in happiness, he could not tell.
Clinking sounds as metal hits rock again and again, the sound repeating, continuing and starting anew all around him.
And the subdued singing of Gilbert Weilschmidt, coming from behind the wall that was minute by minute, piece by piece coming apart and crumbling down, finally ending the years of separation.
He muted the noises, willing all them away, except for his brothers singing. He clung on that, concentrating his mind fully to the soft chords.
"The Berlin wall is coming down,
Coming down,
Coming down
The Berlin wall is coming down,
It's coming down today…"
What great words, all in the melody of "Mary had a little lamb".
"Trust Gilbert to bring the mood down," Germany muttered to himself.
The singing got louder with every piece of stone that fell, until it was too much for Ludwig to bear.
"Brother would you please quit your singing, it's distracting me from being relieved to see you, to hoping you would stay there!" he yelled through the still remaining wall. On the other side he heard the said man laugh.
"I know your dying to see me little brother," came the reply in the same low voice as the singing. Germany wondered if it was him, or had his brother's voice become somehow… older, during the years they hadn't seen each other.
"Just a while more…"
And Germany waited, waited patiently. On the other side of the wall, the nation who used to be called Prussia did exactly the same.
Waited.
And soon, they could see each other's faces.
Gilbert's lips turned upwards and formed a grin.
Ludwig's expression stayed like it was, stern, but his eyes revealed the true emotions he was feeling: shock, disbelief, sadness.
His brother looked dead.
Like he'd finally grown old during the years as East-Germany, like his age was finally catching up on him.
The hair that used to be blondish, sort of like the sand, was now gray. The eyes, which used to be so bright and mischievous blue with the slightest hint of purple, were now read and the look in them was worn.
They were truly the eyes of an thousand years old man.
But still he was grinning.
"Wow west," the man whispered, taking a few steps closer.
"I didn't think you could've gotten bigger anymore."
Something in Germany's mind shattered into million little pieces like a mirror.
He crushed his brother into a tight hug, the other one seeming so fragile in his embrace, weakly trying to return it.
"No brother, it's you who has gotten smaller."
And if the man noticed the teardrops freely falling from Ludwig's eyes onto his shoulder, he kept quiet about it, wisely holding all the remarks to himself.
For once.
I don't know, I just felt like it.
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~Endles