Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, only the plot and OC.

The air was clear and thin as the survivors were marched through the camps onto the trains for safety with the American soldiers. It was going to be a day of survival and life. As well as a day of remembrance and grief for our family and friends who have left this world for another. Kara Fitz looked to the sky and mourned the lost of her only son, Micheal Fitz, a blond haired six year old. She didn't know whether she'll ever see her husband again, so she prepared herself for the worst. She remembered the day that her little joy was stolen from her.

It was a snowy day like this but the air felt like it was choking. The soldiers were collecting up the children from all the mothers. All Kara heard were screams and shouts; none more than her own. She gripped her son close to her chest as they moved down the line. There was only two reasons that they would take the children. It was the day of their death, to get rid of the little mouths they fed with the littlest food anyway. Or they were going to work at the weapon factories.

A soldier who was young and stern faced made his way towards them. While is face was devoid of emotion, his blue eyes held sorrow and pity. The perfect German man. With his golden blond hair and crisp uniform; he had the attention of every soldier and civilian. He had everything Hitler was spouting but the constitution. It was the beginning of a career for him, and the ending of a life for my barely lived son. The young man looked as if this life was not as he mean it to be. Like he was forced to do the hardest job possible. And maybe he did. It wasn't easy to take innocent children away and be the instigator that forced the gases into their lungs.

Dear Micheal was the youngest of the camp and he couldn't understand where he was going and why his mother Kara was crying. He let out tears and cries of frustration as he struggled from the man to get back to his mother.

POV Change

The man, Ludwig Beilschmidt, didn't say a word; just went on carrying the struggling boy away. He felt regret and guilt for what he was about to do. However, he had his orders and knew that his boss had spies watching his every move. He had left early in the morning to try and find some peace of mind before the deed was done. However, it never did come. He, along with three other soldiers, marched the kids into the gas chamber. The little boy in his arms had long given up the struggle and instead laid limply in his arms quietly shaking.

Ludwig paused and gazed at the boy and turned flustered when the boy was caught staring up at him with hazel eyes. He looked more German than he did Jewish that Ludwig thought that there was a mistake here. The boy though seemed to stare right into his soul. Never blinking and seemed to breath so lightly that he seemed already dead. Ludwig grew flustered and frustrated with the staring.

"What are you staring at me for?" he barked. The boy cocked his head and blinked.

"Will I go to sleep just like the others did? Or will I be sent away like Vatti?" he asked with a tremble. Ludwig was surprised that this little three year old was insightful. However, he couldn't just up and tell the boy that he was about to be killed.

"I-I can't tell you that," Ludwig stuttered. The little boy nodded and teared up.

"Why can't Mutti come with me?"

Ludwig's eyes stared at the boy, who was now staring straight ahead. Again, Ludwig felt uneasy about this order. He wanted power yes; but not at the cost of killing innocent children.

'I can't do this,' he thought to himself. 'I can't kill all these children.' Ludwig started to panic and began to turn slightly green at the thought.

"It will be alright," muttered the boy to himself. Ludwig's head snapped back down to the boy. "I'm just going to sleep." They had came to the door as the other children were being marched in. Ludwig put down the little boy and knelt down to his height. This boy so young was confused yet deep within him; he knew what was about to happen. Every human being understands the concept of death no matter how old or young they are.

"How do you know?"

"If I am meant to die then I will die. If I is meant to live then I will wake up tomorrow and live."

"I am sorry," was all he could say. The guilt wracked through him. He had no other words that would come out in this moment. All he could do was watch the shaking little boy who was starting to cry once again.

"I know. It will be alright." But Ludwig knew that it wouldn't. For he will always remember the day when he was a monster.

"What's your name?"

"Micheal Fitz."

Time Jump

Germany watched as his country fell once again as he lost another war. At least they had an army for protection. America was helping him rebuild. His brother Prussia though, was under the mercy of Russia and the Soviet Union. He gazed at the wall that separated him and his brother. He couldn't help but feel that if should be him that is suffering the the harsher consequences for the atrocities he had committed to the innocent Jews and their children. Especially, for the death of young Micheal Fitz.

Germany worked hard to change and rebuild his country so he can get his brother back. Ludwig Beilschmidt worked to pay for his sins to the murder of six million and little Micheal.

Time Jump- 28 years later

The wall was being pulled apart by his people. Germany heaved stones, trying to get to the other side. He never thought that he would miss Gilbert so much.

"Bruder, where are you?" Germany shouted. Berlin would soon be whole again. A pair of red eyes met his blue.

"West!"

Two arms grabbed Ludwig and hugged him. The two brothers smiled at each other in genuine happiness for the first time in almost three decades.

Aftermath

Micheal Bielschmidt watched passively as all the people walked to their seats. He saw Germany; the man who had killed him. However, he saw the kindness in his eyes still. He turned back to the front where the woman, Liberty Jones, was. She found them all throughout their deaths and rebirths. She explained what they now are and what their purpose was.

"To be our country's capital and rock. To be their reason to fight and live. To keep them in line and on the path of peace. We have all seen the destruction they can and have done. We are all the children that have died in their name. So, let's help them stay in the right pathways," she had once stated to us all.

To be Berlin; the city of strength and endurance. He can work with that.

"Hello, my name is Liberty Jones. Boy, do we have a story for you."

THE END!

REVIEW PLEASE! FLAMES ARE WELCOME IF YOU HAVE ANY. I like honest feedback so I know what I have to work on and what I can do to improve my writing or imagination. Ideas are welcomed if you think that something can be added that is AWESOME! But not as awesome as the AWESOME PRUSSIA!