Deep, beneath the earth in a confined space, a man sat. He had grown used to the dark, the shivering cold. Simply because if he hadn't, he feared he might die. Some days, he wanted to. He longed to feel the cold fingers of death wrapping around his neck, instead of that firm grip that refused to let him perish.
But he would never admit it. Not to that bastard.

1945

Gilbert felt his heart clench with the unexpected surge of fear – something he was not used to feeling. Where was the mighty empire now? He was sitting in his brothers office, face in his hands, dry sobs threatening to alert someone of his self misery.
Soviet soldiers had begun their advance into East Germany quite awhile ago and as much as he attempted to convince himself they would win... they hadn't. And now, his fate was lying in the hands of nations who had no inclination to help preserve him. Oh, but how desperately he prayed that they wouldn't kill him...
Nein.

He stood up abruptly, biting back the panic with enough force his lower lip began to bleed. Crimson eyes closed slowly, tears clinging to his lashes. When they finally fell, he couldn't contain them any longer. It seemed easier to sink back into the chair beneath him, bury his face in his arms and sob.

The only thing that caused him to stop was the opening of the door. Keeping his head down, he didn't make any indication that he knew who it was. He didn't have to wait long to find out.
"Bruder." The single word was spoken with such a stiff and calculating manner that Gilbert knew the other man was struggling to keep himself emotionless. "You have to follow me."

Clenching his hands into fists, Gilbert hesitated, slowly lifting his gaze to meet the ice blue eyes of the male he loved so much. His own eyes asked questions he couldn't bring himself to ask, show hatred that he was ashamed for feeling. How could you let this happen?
For a long while, they stared at each other, unblinking in a state of tension filled silence. Finally, the Prussian blinked and stood up, wiping his eyes as if he had never shed the tears in the first place. He joined his brother, standing beside him before reaching out to grab his hand.
"Ich liebe dich, Ludwig." He said quietly, voice barely above a whisper as he leant close to the other male and pressed a shaky kiss to his cheek. He lingered as long as he dare before he pulled away, beginning the long walk down the hall.

His legs were moving, almost mechanically, because he knew if he paused, he would run. Run like the coward everyone thought he was. But he wasn't stupid. He knew that running would make things worse for himself. But even with that knowledge, the large door appeared before him much quicker than he had anticipated.
Reaching out to open it, the only sound he could hear was his heartbeat. Was it beating away faithfully, oblivious to how many beats it had left? He feared it would be few.

The sight before him almost made him sick – with revulsion, hate and pleading. Roderich, Elizabeta, Vash, Lili, Feliks... Ivan. Save for the last one, they were almost a part of him, in some way or another. And now they were sitting before him, stony faced and serious and somehow he knew.
He was no longer going to exist.

How he managed to walk forward and stand before them without falling to his knees in despair was beyond him.
"Gilbert," he heard the almost pained voice of the woman he had loved for his whole life. "Thank you for coming today."
And then Roderich was speaking, as if he thought Eli was being too kind.
"You are aware of your current position, I am sure. Rest assured, Gilbert. We have talked for many hours of what to do with you. There has been no foul play and we are all in agreement that it is for the better of all the nations involved."
Gilbert felt his blood red eyes widen. How could they speak to him like he was a criminal? Like they didn't know him at all? He wanted to scream at them – plead for them to see the absurdity of what they were saying. He was Gilbert! He was their friend...

"Now, seeing as Ivan was involved heavily in the war just fought, we deemed it necessary that, to appease the losses Russia suffered, the majority of the land that is Prussia, will be given to Ivan. What is left, will be known as East Germany. In essence, you will cease to exist, Gilbert."

The brown haired man continued speaking, but for the albino, he could no longer listen. Gilberts eyes fell to the floor, wide and unblinking as his breath caught in his throat. How could this be happening? Just as soon as his gaze had dropped, he felt a chill dance down his spine, reverberating in his core. His eyes snapped up, not having to look far to find the source of his fear.
Crimson met with slightly darkened violet as their gazes met. How could he look so pleased? Ivan's eyes were narrowed, lips turned up in a smile that seemed all too pleased at the words Roderich had just spoken.
Despair was replaced with anger. Of course he had always hated the Russian, but never before had he wanted to kick his face in as much as he did now. The bastard seemed to sense his change in attitude and with this, his smile spread into a full fledged grin.
He felt Ludwig's fingers around his arm now, leading him towards the delighted looking nation. He wanted to pull his eyes away from those violet eyes but they were transfixing, like he was being led towards the devil.
"Ne boisya," he heard Ivan's quiet voice say as Ludwig's fingers left his arm and stepped away from him. "Ya budu zabotit'sya o vas, Prussen."

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Translation Notes
Nein - No
Ne Boisya - Don't be afraid
Ya budu zabotit'sya o vas, Prussen - I will take care of you, Prussia. (In nickname form.)