The End of a Nation

Gilbert's crimson eyes shot open as he sat up in bed. His breathing was rigid and he found himself drenched in sweat. His mind raced as he tried to shake off the horrific nightmare he had just awakened from. It was the same dream from the night before, and from the night before that, and even the one before that. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. Flashes from the dream flickered through his mind. Gilbert clenched his fists as he tried to forget about the nightmare that had been plaguing him for weeks. He opened his eyes and glanced around his room desperately trying to distract himself from his own thoughts. If only the nightmares were just dreams. He could handle the insanity that his subconscious threw at him, but this wasn't just dreams. It was memories from his past; he was re-living the horrific events that he had spent years suppressing in the farthest corners of his mind. Gilbert lay in bed for the rest of the night, awake. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept going back to that night, centuries ago, back when he was still a child.

Prussia was dragged towards a large, charred, wooden post that was in the centre of the village he used to call home. The townsfolk shouted and booed as he came into sight. They all stood watching as Prussia was chained to the post. He screamed out, begging them to let him go. He screamed for Vati, but no one came to save him. The people threw stones and whatever else they could get their hands on at him.

"Teufel! Burn in Hell, teufel sohn!" they shouted at Prussia. This wasn't the first time they had done this to him. It seemed as if every time someone was sick or injured, or some mysterious event were to happen, they would blame Prussia since he has the 'devil's red eyes'. Being a nation, even though a young one at the time, he could not die by the hands of humans, so no matter how hard the locals would try to stab, poison, or burn him, he'd always get up and walk away unscathed. Even though he could not suffer permanent physical damage, he still felt pain the same as any human. They used rope to tie Prussia to the stake, binding his wrists, ankles, and waist to the post. He continued to cry out as the people threw their torches by his feet. The flames spread rapidly, but the heavy smoke hit him first. Prussia's screams turned to violent choking and hacking. The townspeople cheered, as he began to burn. The flames engulfed him, the flesh burning and peeling off his tortured body. He screamed out in sheer agony as the flames crackled around his flesh. Yet he remained alive. After the locals finally deemed he could not be killed by fire, they decided to throw him in the deepest part of the lake. Prussia's body hurt all over, his silver hair was scorched, and his mind felt dull and dead. The townspeople suddenly heaved his small, burned form into the deep and cold lake and left him to drown.

Prussia was left to struggle for breath in the freezing water alone. He could not swim, but neither could he drown, so he spent hours trying to keep his head above the water. Water eventually rushed into his nose and mouth, hastily making its way into his lungs. He felt like he was being asphyxiated, but to no end. Suddenly, a strong hand plunged down deep into the water and pulled Prussia out, propelling him onto the muddy shore. He opened his eyes to see his Vati standing over him with a scowl.

"Blöd," he said in a low tone as he walked away, leaving Prussia alone in the dead of night. Tears prickled his eyes as he pulled his legs to his chest. Prussia gave in to the pain and sobbed. He cursed all of the Gods for this; he cursed any who would listen, he cursed them for making him this way. All the hate and pain over something as trivial as the colour of his eyes.

Gilbert's eyes flew open yet again, his breathing, ragged and heavy. He sat up in his bed and started at the beams of sunlight shinning through his curtains. Morning, he thought to himself. Gil rose from his bed and walked to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, washing away the remainders of sleep and the nightmare. He stared himself in the mirror, starting to put on his facade for the day. All of his "awesomeness" and his cocky attitude were just a ruse to cover his dark and pained past.

"I am awesome," he mumbled as he started brushing out his silvery hair, "I am zee awesome Prussia. No one can match my sheer awesomeness." He continued, as if pumping himself up for the day. Gil grabbed his toothbrush from the little glass on the sink and was about to start brushing, when he noticed the other three toothbrushes in the glass. He stared at them, feeling a smile creeping onto his face. He was staying with his brother, Germany, and where Germany was, the rest of the Axis Powers weren't too far away. Gilbert suddenly felt a warmth flow through him, for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel lonely. He felt the presence of the other three nations in the house and he smiled to himself with a real, genuine smile that he hadn't done in years. He finished brushing and walked to the kitchen, where he found Italy and Germany preparing breakfast.

"Oh, good morning Mr. Beilschmidt!" Italy chimed as Prussia entered the room. Prussia nodded towards Italy as he took a seat at the kitchen table. Germany, who was cooking something on the stove, gave his brother a small smile.

"Guten morgen, Bruder," he said. He and Italy joined Gil at the table with their food. Italy dove into his large plate of pasta with tomato sauce, whereas Germany began eating his liverwurst and schlackwurst. Gilbert let out a sigh as he reached for one of the boxes of cereals that were on the table. He poured himself a bowl and ate in silence, as Italy rambled on about the different kinds of pasta for what seemed like the millionth time. Germany, who was well accustomed to Italy's ramble, nodded politely, as he read through the newspaper. Gilbert couldn't help but find a small grin appearing on his face. Even though he was still shaken from the dream, he felt a warmth that he hadn't felt in a very long time, a warmth that he could only describe as love. He had been alone for longer than he could remember, but being with his brother and Italy he felt, as if he were at home, doing the little things families do like eating breakfast together. Gil smiled into his bowl and continued eating. A few moments later, Japan emerged from the hall. His short hair was a little messy and he had dark circles under his eyes. Germany let out a sigh as he saw Japan enter the room.

"You didn't stay up all night playing America's stupid video game again, did you?" he asked as he neatly folded his newspaper and looked up at Kiku like a disappoving parent. Kiku, who was still in pajamas, flopped down in the chair next to Prussia, looking ready to fall asleep again right there.

"I had to get to the fifth night, though," he said groggily, then continued to mumble something about the graphics, complaining and complimenting the American video game. Prussia rose from his seat, and decided to get dressed for the day. He dumped his bowl into the sink and went to his room. He overheard Italy say something about wanting to play the new game, Five Nights at Freddie's 4, but Germany refused, saying it was too 'scary' for him. Gil shook his head as he closed his bedroom door and got changed. He stood in front of his full length mirror, looking over his clothing. He donned a white graphic t-shirt with a black vest over top, ripped grey jeans, and a red and black plaid scarf. He held in his hand the iron cross necklace that matched Germany's, debating whether or not to wear it. After a while of consideration, he put it on, making sure to have it hang just below the scarf. Pleased with his appearance, he walked over to the little bird cage that sat in the corner of his bedroom; faint snoring sounds came from inside. Gilbert smirked as he lifted the blanket from the top of the cage to reveal a little yellow canary sleeping soundly inside.

"Ok now Gilbird, wake up," he said as he scooped up his sleeping bird and gently placed him on the top on his head. The bird awoke, pecking Gilbert on the head for disturbing his slumber. Gil just poked the bird in return as he exited the room. Now, what awesome things shall I do today? He asked himself. He thought if he were to distract himself with something fun, it would stop him from thinking of his dream; the same plan he had the day before, and the day before, and the day before that one. He walked past the kitchen, which was now empty, and on towards the living room. On his way down the long hallway to the next room, Gil noticed the ways in which Germany had decorated his house. It was a classic take on a more modern style, very contradicting, but it seemed to work. There were artifacts and treasures from all different time periods and places his brother had visited—or invaded. Gilbert entered the large living room to find Japan sitting on a cushion in the middle of the floor, an X-Box controller in his hand, rapidly tapping the buttons as he played the game.

"Jappy, what are you doing?" Gil asked from across the room. Japan continued to tap away at the controller, not even glancing at Prussia as he replied.

"I must finish the level, if I don't the monsters will eat my family!" he exclaimed. Gil shook his head, as he walked out of the room to the front hall. He was about to open the door when he heard Germany walk up behind him.

"Where are you going?" Germany asked, leaning against the wall. Gil turned to face his brother with a frown. "Out," he said simply, to which Germany scowled. "When are you coming back?" Germany asked, pressing for information from Gil.

"What's with the third degree? I'm supposed to be the older bruder, West," Gil said, matching Germany's scowl. Germany crossed his arms and walked closer to Gil. "I'm just worried about you. I don't think you should be alone," Germany said, putting his hand on Gil's shoulder. Prussia shoved Germany's hand off and opened the door. "Is that why you wanted me to stay with you? Because you wanted to babysit me?" Gil roared in anger. He couldn't believe that his own brother thought so little of him to ask him to stay, only to babysit him! Gil felt betrayed by Germany, he felt more alone than before. He slammed the door and left before Germany could say anything more. Gilbert walked down the driveway, blinked back the tears that burned his eyes. He refused to cry, he refused to give in to that. He just kept walking, allowing the crisp fall air to prickle his bare skin. He forced a smirk onto his face as he turned a corner. He had decided to try and take his mind off the problems and go visit Canada. Somehow, that shy and quiet Canadian always found a way to cheer him up, even if it was just for a little while. As Gil walked towards their house, he deeply regretted not bringing a jacket. He rubbed his cold arms with his hands as his let out a sigh. His warm breathe hung in the air. Gilbird tweeted at Gil, most likely complaining about being cold.

"Oh, there's no need for that kind of language, Gilbird," Gil scolded his little canary, who continued to chirp. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm cold too you know! But you don't hear me mouthing off like that." He said to the shivering bird. "Fine, here is this better?" Gil asked as he cupped Gilbird in his hands and placed him in the pocket of his vest. Gilbird snuggled deeper into the warmth of the pocket. Gil rolled his eyes as he reached the driveway of the Canadian's house. He reached up and knocked on the door. A moment later, the door opened to reveal Canada, still in pajamas.

"Yes, hello?" he said, as he put his glasses on. Gil put on a sly smirk and leaned against the door frame.

"Hello there Mattie," Gilbert said. Matthew seemed a little more than surprised by Gil's sudden visit. "I was thinking you and me could go down and catch a movie," Gil continued, but Matthew remained quiet. Gil's smirk faded as it was replaced with a rare look of worry. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Well, um," Matthew said, avoiding Gil's eyes, "I-I have something to tell you," he continued. He opened his mouth to continue, only to be cut off by America who peaked around from behind a wall.

"Matt, who is it?" Alfred asked. He wore a faded Flash t-shirt with sweatpants and held a large roll of packing tape in his hand. "Just hurry up, okay? We've still got a lot of packing to do," he said with a smile. Gil laughed slightly, "Packing? Are you going on a trip of something?" Once again Matt opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again by his brother.

"Trip? Ha, nope, Mattie here has decided to move in with me for a bit back home! As much fun as it is here in Germany, nothing beats sweet ol' America, right bro?" Alfred said, nudging Matthew in the arm. Matt looked at Gilbert, he had planned to tell his boyfriend this information in a much less blunt manner than that of his brother. "Gil, I-I" Gilbert felt tears sting his eyes as Matt tried to soften the blow. "You're leaving?" Gil said, his throat feeling tight. His heart felt as if it was being yanked up and out of his chest and then stomped on. "B-but why?" Matt's eyes dropped as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

"It's just that, I need to be with family right now, and well, it's just complicated." Matthew said softly, but Gil couldn't concentrate on his boyfriend's words. All he could think about was what was going to happen, were they breaking-up? Where was this going? He didn't believe what was happening; he couldn't believe what was happening. "When are you leaving?" Gil asked with a shaky voice. Matthew stayed quiet, but Gil pressed on. "Tell me!" he shouted, "Tell me Matt!"

"Next week," he finally said, reaching out for Gilbert's hand, but Gil backed away. He couldn't hold back the tears. He pushed away from Matt and stumbled off the front porch. "Gilbert, wait! Please, don't go," Canada called out, but Prussia barley even looked back to face him.

"You're leaving me, alone," Gilbert said, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "You're leaving me. I loved you." Matthew walked up to him, pressing his forehead against Gil's back.

"I loved you too, but," Matt wrapped his arms around his waist. America opened the front door and called out for Canada. "Hey bro, I need you to come help finish up! I can't do this all by myself!" he called, and Canada pulled away from Prussia, giving him a small kiss on the back of the neck before he left. "Goodbye, Gil." He whispered and walked back into his house. Gilbert walked away, and as soon as he was out of sight, he broke into a sprint. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed. As he ran, it was as if the sky opened up and cried with him as he ran. Gilbert received several odd looks from the people passing on the streets. At last he was home, Gil threw open the door and ran past Japan, Italy, and Germany who was watching TV in the living room. He didn't stop for a second before he ran into his room and slammed the door. Gilbert wiped his eyes and gently placed the sleeping canary back into his cage. He then peeled off his soaking wet shirt and vest and curled up in the corner of his bedroom and sobbed. He sobbed for hours, ignoring the knocks from the others on his door. He had never felt this alone, this pained, this sheer agony.

Eventually, Gil fell asleep, only to repeat the torturous dream again. But this one was different; everything fell into place, the dragging to the stake, the shouts and insults, except the fact the Canada was in the crowd. As the dream continued, the worse it got. Germany and the others were there too, each hurting him in a different way, from being stabbed, to shot, and the worst of them all, Canada standing alongside, watching with a smile.

Gilbert awoke abruptly, still on the floor with dried tears staining his cheeks and his eyes red and puffy. He felt different this morning, today he felt empty inside. It was as if he felt nothing at all, it was actually quite a relief not to feel the constant numbing pain from his memories. Prussia rose from the floor and opened the bedroom door. He hobbled in a daze into the kitchen, pulling out a bowl from a cupboard. He sat down at the table and stared into the empty bowl. Gil noticed a piece of paper by his place at the table. It was a note from Germany; it read:

Bruder, Italien und I have gone shopping for the day. Und Japan has left to visit China for the next week. We will be home by dinner.

Ludwig

P.S I worry about you Gilbert, please know that you can speak to me about anything. I do love you and I will help you best I can, but if you continue to refuse my help I won't continue to chase after you. Since you refuse to talk to me... I have no other option than to let you be alone, since that seems to be the only way you like it. Until you get over your senseless pride, consider yourself as alone as you possibly can be.

Gil placed the note back down onto the table and rose from the table, walking into the living room. He picked up his cell phone which was lying on an end table by the couch. He quickly typed a text to Canada before remembering his situation. Gilbert read over his message aloud.

"Blondie, come over, I need a hug. I don't know what else to do... I just want it all to end. I can't take this anymore... I want you to know I love you very much, and I love my Bruder, and that hyperactive pasta loving Italien, and my family but... I can't anymore. Goodbye and stay awesome." Prussia hit send and walking into Germany's bedroom he grabbed one of his brother's Astra 900 guns and its bullets. He walked into his bedroom and unhooked Gilbird's cage from its hanging. Then walked into the front hall and opened the door. He sat Gilbird's cage down on the porch and opened the small wire door. Gil stood and went back into the house, closing and locking the door behind him. He sat down on the floor of the living room, and wrote on a piece of paper that he had grabbed from the kitchen. He wrote how he didn't blame Germany and the others, he wrote how he loved them, he wrote how he will miss them, and lastly, he wrote his last goodbye. Gil held the paper tightly in his hand as he pulled the safety off of the gun. He thought he would be frightened, after all the times he had considered doing this, he felt too afraid to do it, but today, he felt an indescribable calm. He held the gun to his head, blocking out the frantic chirps from Gilbird from outside.

"Goodbye," he said as he pressed the barrel to his temple, letting out a sigh. "One, two, three," he whispered, as he applied pressure to his index finger. The shot echoed through the house, as the gun and his hand fell to his side. Dark blood trickled down the side of his face, as his body went limp and fell to the ground. At last, it is over.

Epilogue

Germany and Italy pulled into the driveway, chatting about a movie they wanted to go and watch. They stopped dead in their tracks as they noticed the birdcage open on the porch and a little yellow bird frantically peeking out the front door.

"Ve, Gilbird, what are you doing out here?" Italy asked, scooping up the little bird in his hands. He looked to Germany, who just shrugged in response. Germany unlocked the door and he and Italy entered. They walked through the front hall and Germany froze in mid step, causing Italy to bump into his back. Germany couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear anything other than his racing heart. He couldn't move. All he could do was see, and what he saw was something no one ever wants to see. Italy covered his mouth in shock. Germany fell to his knees, as tears rolled down his face. Not a moment later, Canada raced into the house, screaming on the top of his lungs.

"Gil! Gil! Gilbert!?" he called, stopping as he entered the living room. His eyes went from Germany sobbing on the floor, to Italy draping his arms over his shoulders, crying alongside the German, to Prussia's unmoving frame lying on the floor beside a smoking gun. A small pool of blood was by his pale face. His crimson eyes were glazed over as if made of glass. Canada fell to the ground, going completely silent.

Invitations were sent out the following week. The date was set, February 25th 2015. As much as everyone would complain and say the hated the annoying bastard named Prussia, every single being attended the funeral with teary eyes. Every weekend, Germany and Austria would visit the grave to place flowers. Italy and the allies would visit often, praying and talking to Prussia where ever he was now. But Canada, he would rarely visit. The only time Gil's name was mentioned by Matthew was when he would be asked the same question again and again, how are you doing, do you miss him? To which he would reply with a small smile saying oh, Gilbert? He's in a better place now. Canada would always smile and continue on, as the invisible American lookalike, something that helped ground him and keep his sanity. He suppressed the gut retching pain of grief and guilt of feeling like he was the one who pushed Gilbert over the edge. Every night before he fell asleep, he would sob. If only I went to the movies with him, if only I went with him! If only I stayed with him that night! If only I didn't let him leave! If only...

A/n:

You may have found some little German words in there and not know what the hell i was saying... but fear not! Here are the translations to the best of my ability!
Blöd = Stupid
Vati = Father/Dad
Bruder = Brother
Italien = Italy
Guten Morgen = Good Morning
If I've missed any just ask me in the comments :) So just for the record... the initial idea for this story was inspired by a head cannon that was floating around the interweb... I do not know the original author of said cannon, but i do want thank you for your wonderful yet dark story idea! Lastly, I wish to say that i do not own hetalia or its characters... all rights reserved to their respected owners!
thank you and have have a good day :)
-Katy