Synopsis: This was the one order he could not follow. The one target he could not kill. "You are being called upon to assassinate this man," Ludwig slid a picture out of a folder and passed it to Gilbert. "No," he replied simply. Sometimes the consequences are worth that small moment of defiance.
Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete.
Orders
Gilbert leered into the fire and the light cast demonic shadows across his face. He was sitting around the fire with the other soldiers as they swapped war stories and laughed raucously but Gilbert was instead brooding and steadily sipping whiskey from a flask.
Gilbert had always been loyal; always willing to give everything for the cause. Unfortunately, time confused the issue and as the years passed, Gilbert found himself questioning his faith. What was the cause, really? Was it worth all of this? Now, whenever he was on assignment, he found himself hesitating that one crucial second. That one moment where he locked eyes with his victim before pulling the trigger. It was slowly killing him.
It was that wavering loyalty that had led him to meet the man currently occupying his every thought. The man had crawled over the wall and into his sights, and like a fool, Gilbert had faltered when the violet eyes widened in shock. He should have shot the bastard then and there. Instead, he lowered his gun and let the man go.
It would not be the last time he saw the man. Soon, it seemed like the man was everywhere; in disguise and moving through the shadows. It did not take Gilbert long to realize that the man was a spy. Instead of reporting the man and leaving him to hang; he held a hand out to him and the man took it. What a stupid mistake. The more time the two spent together, the more Gilbert found himself questioning the cause. This man was charismatic and kind, beneath the desperate no nonsense attitude that was the result of radical thinking and intensive training. This man was more than capable and when he spoke, Gilbert felt himself swayed by his ideas and vision. Suddenly, the world was not quite so bleak; everywhere he turned there was possibility.
The two grew closer over the course of several months. Gilbert turned a blind eye to the exploits of the man who came and went and the man pointedly ignored each new assignment Gilbert accepted. There was an understanding that their positions were separate from who they were together. It was the first time in a long time that Gilbert had felt a connection to another human being.
When their relationship changed from friendship into something sinful, Gilbert ignored the burning sensation of his deceit. Leave it to him to be literally 'sleeping with the enemy'. To calm the guilt, he continued to take every target his brother sent him.
Approximately one month ago, the man had disappeared. It was not unusual for him to disappear for days or even weeks at a time; he was, after all, a spy. This time though, Gilbert woke up alone to find a hastily scrawled note that simply read: 'soon'.
Gilbert kept the note tucked in his pocket, but found himself growing irritable and cruel towards his comrades as time passed. He wanted out, but there was no such thing as 'out' for a man in his situation. There was only one way 'out' in war.
Gilbert took another swig of whiskey and grimaced. He was tired of this charade; tired of being caught between two worlds. He knew where he wanted to be and it wasn't here; it was with him.
"Sir?"
"Fuck off," sighed Gilbert halfheartedly.
"Sir," the youth tried again. He was obviously new to his uniform and had an awkward, unsure manner that the trenches would soon take care of. "Your brother is asking for you."
"What part of 'fuck off' did you misunderstand?" Gilbert asked harshly as he stood up and roughly pushed the young soldier out of the way; heading for the tent Ludwig was most likely to be in. Sure enough, standing just inside was Ludwig with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Ah, brother. So nice of you to join us."
Gilbert traced his eyes over the darkened edges of the construct and, sure enough, they were not alone. Men in suits lined the inside of the tent. Not soldiers then. Politicians?
"We have an assignment for you."
"Bite me."
"Later, perhaps. It has been brought to my attention that a certain individual has been sabotaging several missions and jeopardizing the outcome of this war. He is a key player of the resistance and directly responsible for incalculable damage against the empire. You are being called upon to assassinate this man," Ludwig slid a picture out of a folder and passed it to Gilbert who snatched it from his hand. "We do not care how you accomplish the task. Simply make him disappear; like a magician. Poof."
Gilbert barely heard the rest of the speech as he gaped at the picture in his hand. He knew this man and the thought of killing him churned the alcohol in his stomach. Gilbert looked up from the violet eyes in the picture to his brother. His face was as carefully blank as the men standing behind him. Gilbert found himself wondering yet again what had happened to change his brother so completely.
"No," said Gilbert simply as he crumpled up the picture and pitched it behind him, "I'm tired of this shit." His brother growled and took a step forward. One of the men interrupted from the back of the tent before either of the brothers could escalate the fight.
"Gilbert, was it?" Wheezed the man and Gilbert found his rage being redirected from Ludwig to the simpering idiot. "I do not think you understand the situation. Prominent party members have begun questioning your loyalty. This is not a request; this is an assignment. Failure to comply would lead to some rather... Unpleasant consequences."
"Unpleasant how?" Sneered Gilbert.
"You are a smart lad, I am sure that you can figure it out."
"I'm sure that I can, but that isn't going to change my answer, dipshit. Haven't you ever heard of 'no means no'? Here, no means back the hell off before I blow your cocksucking brains out!"
Disgust flashed across the man's face as he took off his glasses and cleaned them in nervous habit. There was a general disgruntled shuffling from the men lining the tent and Gilbert was glad to be the cause of their discomfort.
"Gilbert," Ludwig snarled under his breath. "You do not understand the position you are in. Please. Do as you are told."
It was the 'please' that caught his attention. It had been a long time since he had heard the word pass between his little brother's lips. Gilbert paused but shook his head nonetheless; he could not take this target. Not this one. Anyone but him.
"Sorry, brother. You have my answer."
"I was afraid of that."
Ludwig waved his hand in a careless manner and turned his back on Gilbert. The world suddenly shifted sideways and he could only assume that someone had clocked him from behind. As he hit the ground, Gilbert had a muddled view of the perpetrator before the world faded to black. It was the young soldier who had been sent to fetch him earlier. Obviously the little bootlicker was working his way through the ranks the only way he knew how; by playing dirty. Cheating motherfucker.
When Gilbert awoke, he was face down in a concrete cell with wrought iron bars along one side. Ludwig must have transferred him to the main base. His head was pounding like a two six of tequila and amateur band night. He pushed himself up off the floor only to vomit the contents of his stomach across the concrete.
Great. A concussion.
"Shit man, that is gross."
Gilbert looked up blearily and saw the young soldier who was the cause of this particular shade of 'gross' sitting on the other side of the bars.
"Kid, what's your name?" Rasped Gilbert.
"John. John Stoker."
"Well, John, you're an asshole. Piss off before I tear you a new one."
John snorted and waggled his finger. Gilbert would have lunged forward to snap the digit if his stomach had not been roiling. Instead he twisted onto his back and tried vainly to block out the annoying man.
"No can do, sir. Orders. Some of us actually follow them. I'm to wait here until I am relieved of duty by the next guard. Sounds like you really ticked off one of the suits. You must have done something awful to get twenty four hour surveillance."
"It was worth it."
"We'll see if you still think that in a week. If you're alive, that is."
"Death means nothing to a dead man," sighed Gilbert and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort to quell the spinning.
"How about torture?"
"Strangely," laughed Gilbert hoarsely, "that still means something. Now piss off."
"Nope. Orders, remember?"
"Fucking bootlicker. Some of us spent our time on the front line and here you are giving out hand jobs for favours. Coward," hissed Gilbert.
"Sometimes I give blowjobs."
"I wish you'd give your goddamn gun a blowjob and save us both the trouble of my killing you."
John laughed and tapped the bars with the tip of his standard issue revolver; the sound grating against every nerve in Gilbert's body.
"I like you, you know."
"That's nice. I hate you."
"That's alright. You should."
"Good, because I do. When the hell do you switch shifts? I'm sick of talking to you."
John looked at his wristwatch and whistled. This sound was even more annoying than the last one and Gilbert fought equal urges to strangle the soldier and to puke. Neither would help his current situation.
Then again, it wouldn't really hurt the situation either, would it?
"Any minute now. Wow! Messing with you sure as hell made this stint fly by."
"So glad to help," mumbled Gilbert as a door down the hall slammed open. He cringed against the throbbing in his head and grabbed at his hair in frustration; closing his eyes tightly in the process.
"Hey," said the newcomer casually. "John, right? I'm your relief. You're free as a bird, man. Leave the bitch to me."
"Aww," whined John, "and I was just starting to enjoy his company. Bye bye, sir. Relish the time you have left; the suits come for you in the morning."
"Will do, bootlicker. Now piss the fuck off." Gilbert could hear John's laughter echo down the hall before the door closed heavily and cut off all sounds to the outside world.
"Finally," Gilbert almost sobbed in relief.
Everything was blissfully quiet before Gilbert heard the rattling of keys and the creak of the bars swinging open. He opened his eyes and swivelled his head to look at the soldier. He blinked slowly in shock as the man came into focus.
He knew this man. Intimately. He held himself differently, and his hair was darker and cut short, but it was undoubtedly the man from the picture Ludwig had handed him. He was wearing colour eye contacts and dress uniform, but Gilbert would recognize this man if he were blind. It was a very good disguise, near perfect, but it could not fool him.
"Matthew?"
His face lit up and his whole demeanour changed; dropping the charade of a hard-bitten soldier. Matthew grinned down at him before stooping to grab Gilbert and lift him to his feet; throwing his arm over his shoulder for support. Gilbert lurched and threw up again; heaving onto the floor beside his earlier mess. Matthew waited impatiently beside him; scanning the hall and pulling a concealed and obviously modified handgun from his belt.
"Sorry, I didn't know. Concussion, eh?" Gilbert nodded shakily.
"Yeah. Matthew?" He asked again in disbelief.
"Actually, my name is William today. Bill, if you will. I'm fresh meat, along with the other new recruits. Been here almost three weeks before you pulled your little stunt. Now it's all gone, pardon my French, to shit." Matthew sighed as he cocked his gun and held it at the ready.
"How?"
"That'll have to wait, I'm afraid. It won't be long until they find the soldier who's actually supposed to be covering this shift," said Matthew as he started moving out of the cell and towards the exit; sealing the gate behind him.
"What did you do with him?"
"... I snapped his neck and jammed him in a closet, if you must know."
Gilbert laughed lightly under his breath as they shuffled down the hallway. He had apparently been the only one in the detention cells; every other cell they passed was empty.
"Sloppy."
"Don't remind me. How are you feeling?" Matthew asked, concern lacing his voice.
"Like shit. Thanks for asking. How the hell do you plan to get out of here?"
"There are several undercover agents in this facility at all times, believe it or not. I buzzed them when I first arrived and we set up an escape route, just in case. You, apparently, are that 'just in case'. Congratulations. They're watching our backs right now, so move it. I have the papers and contacts to get us out of the country, never mind the building."
"The country? Where's the fun in that?" Gilbert cackled; his voice breaking as the room spun wildly.
Matthew smiled at Gilbert fondly before reaching for the handle and cracking the door open just enough to check if the coast was clear. It evidently was because Matthew swung the door the rest of the way and ushered Gilbert through.
"Don't worry. We'll be back," assured Matthew as the door snapped closed behind them.
Author's Notes:
I'm not sure that Gilbert and Matthew will actually be back. This might just be a one shot; it will be uploaded as such for the time being. The story is set up to just throw you into the fray, so I hope that no one was too confused. My advice to you is to just roll with it.
I guess that this story could be seen as either alternate timeline or alternate universe. I did not give it that much thought, honestly. I leave it to you to make your own judgments. Oh, and the character John is no one in specific; just your standard kiss up found in any organization. I actually kind of like him… Does that make me a bad person?
Obviously, the language is a little harsh, but I like to think that dire situations deserve the appropriate response. Sometimes, that response it "f*ck this sh*t". :D Hopefully no one was unduly upset.
If you are still reading then please leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome.