It was a Sunday morning when Gilbert awoke very suddenly. It was four in the morning and summertime.
Ludwig was still asleep next to him.
"Ludwig," he whispered softly, leaning over his shoulder to peer at his face.
His brother hardly stirred, just mumbled a sleepy 'what?"
"I love you."
Maybe Ludwig mumbled that he loved him too.
"I have to go now." He reached out and gently stroked his cheek, kissing Ludwig lightly. Ludwig's arm moved to slip around his waist, but he had already left the bed.
Gilbert dressed lightly - jeans, t-shirt, hoodie. He went into his chest of drawers and, digging deep in one of them, he pulled out an old, sealed letter. On the envelope was labelled, "To Ludwig, when I am gone." Slowly, he went back to bed and placed the envelope on the pillow.
He said goodbye to the dogs, and then left the house.
He rode the U-Bahn for the last time. When he got on, he didn't know where he was going, or how long it would take to get there, but he knew that he would get there.
Thirty minutes and two transfers later, he got off at the stop that he knew was the one. He left the train, ascended the stairs, and after a short walk he found himself staring at Brandenburg Gate.
It was early; the sky was only just beginning to turn purple with light, and nobody was around. During the day, the square was full of tourists, pedestrians, cyclists, and costumed mascots, however right now there was none of that. It was quiet, peaceful, and perfect.
However, Gilbert soon noticed one lone figure, sitting on a bench. Gilbert slowly approached, hands in his pockets. Though he wore modern clothes, Gilbert recognized who it was.
"I did not think that you would be my angel of death, Vater," he said as he sat next to Germania.
The man simply cleared his throat. "Would you prefer I wear a cloak and bring a scythe?"
"No, your presence is intimidating enough," Gilbert chuckled. There was silence between the two before the Prussian spoke again. "Why this place?" He looked to his right, where Brandenburg Gate stood not far away.
"You tell me," said the older man.
"This used to be only one of eighteen gates," Gilbert explained with a grin. "It would take you straight to Charlottenburg Palace." He sighed softly. "It was made to represent peace."
Germania was quiet for a long time, simply staring at the monument. "Funny how many things have the name of peace on them."
"Indeed. It was certainly for 'peace' when Napoleon marched through those gates…Hitler, the Soviets…" He sighed. "But it brings me peace."
"Perhaps that is why you are here."
Gilbert's eyes fell. "Are you proud of me, Vater?"
Germania looked back over at him and gently put a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "I am the most proud of you."
"Even though everything fell apart? Even though I lost my country?"
The older man raised an eyebrow. "You did something I never could, Gilbert. You survived. And for that, I am proud."
Slowly, Gilbert stood up and walked slowly towards the gate. "Will it be alright? Will I be able to watch him? Watch him grow and flourish."
"I have watched you, haven't I?" Germania walked slowly behind him.
Slowly, Gilbert smiled. He closed his eyes and took a deep, long breath. "Then I will watch him."
"You know he has never really been without you. Do you think he'll be alright?"
Gilbert stopped. He was already disappearing; flickering in and out like a flame in the wind.
The sun was raising, and the first few rays had reached the sky. It was warm, and Brandenburg Gate was right in front of him then. He could feel the city - feel its pulse, its people; could feel the life within it and around it. He could feel the tourists and the politicians and the people. They were loud. Loud and strong, and it made his heart swell.
"He will be just fine."
A/N: Super short drabble. The request was literally "Prussia's final goodbye". I had fun with it. There may or may not be a sequel?