I don't own Hetalia.
November 9th, 1989.
It was the best day of Ludwig's life.
But also the most painful.
The blonde grit his teeth, eyes quenched shut as he held back cries of pain. He gripped the sheets on his bed tightly, his whole body shaking with pain. Sweat fell down his forehead, dripping down his chin, mixing with the salty tears he cried from pain.
The Berlin Wall was a curse. It had been since the day it was erected. Although, the pain Ludwig had felt the day it was built was nowhere near the pain he felt now. The Wall had become a part of Germany. The people had become used to seeing it, walking by it every day, feeling the cold stones beneath their fingertips as they brushed past. Millions of tears had been shed over the missing loved ones, including tears that Ludwig had shed himself. He could only hope his brother was safe, wherever he was, across that wall.
Another brick was thrown on the ground, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. Ludwig bit his lip as another tiny scratch appeared on his back, adding onto the hundreds others that were peeling his skin back and apart. It was a long, jagged line all the way down his back, right along his spine. Blood ran freely, going down to the man's pants and staining the green brown. More droplets streamed down his sides, falling onto the crisp, white bed sheets, a permanent reminder of the pain and joy of the destruction of the evil, cursed Wall.
Suddenly, a portion of the wall toppled over, crashing onto the ground. As the people cheered, Ludwig cried out in pain as he hunched further over onto the bed. Another dozen bricks fell, and Ludwig grunted, more tears falling down his face. He was so glad that Feliciano was with Antonio and Lovino. He couldn't imagine letting the Italian seeing him so vulnerable.
Another portion, this one much larger than the last, was torn down. Joy. Pain. Ludwig felt a long, deep cut slash his back open, and his eyes widened. The pain was too great to even cry out. He simply gasped, then collapsed onto his bed, curling up into himself. Shivers racked the man's body as the Wall was attacked by angry, yet happy Germans and Prussians.
Prussia... Ludwig thought, more tears running down his cheeks. Mine Gott, Bruder... Please be okay... Please be okay... Please be okay... Please be okay...
Suddenly, the door to Ludwig's room slammed open, and there was a happy shout of, "West!", quickly followed by a gasp. "W-West... Oh, Gott..."
The bed shifted as Gilbert crouched onto it, lowering himself to look at his little brother. He saw Ludwig's face contorted in pain, and tears filled up in his eyes. "Bruder..."
Slowly, as to not cause the man anymore pain, Gilbert shifted Ludwig to where he was curled into Gilbert's arms. Ludwig was barely conscious by now, but he was lucid enough to know that the strong chest he was breathing against was his brother. "D- Der ältere B- B- Bruder..." he rasped out, clutching onto Gilbert's shirt like he was a tiny nation once more. Gilbert didn't mind, though. He simply hugged Ludwig tighter, careful not to touch the still growing wounds on his back.
Tears dripped down Gilbert's cheeks, and he bit his lip. "J- Ja, Luddie... It's me... I'm here, I'm here."
"Hilf mir, Bruder," Ludwig whimpered like a child, turning his face into his brother's chest. No doubt he would be embarrassed by this later, but for now he simply needed Gilbert.
He needed his big brother.
Gilbert buried his face into Ludwig's messy blonde hair. He sighed, taking in the aroma of, oddly enough, spearmint and pipe smoke. It was an odd yet homely mix.
The Wall continued to fall, and Ludwig's shivering got worse. His crying stopped, but only because his eyes had dried out. Gilbert had moved himself and his little brother to a more comfortable position, leaning up against the headboard of the bed. Ludwig still held tightly to his brother, and Gilbert held tightly back.
It took several hours, and finally, the rest of the Berlin Wall came crumbling down. The biggest slash yet, from the nape of his neck to his lower back, suddenly appeared on Ludwig's body. Ludwig's dry throat let out one more long, loud, agonizing cry. Tears rolled down Gilbert's cheeks, and he clenched his teeth. Why did such a happy day have to be so painful? Especially to his little brother.
He doesn't deserve this... Not anybody, and especially not West...
It took a long while, but Ludwig eventually stopped shaking. His hand still held onto Gilbert's now bloody shirt. The Prussian didn't want to move. It had been so long that Ludwig needed him, and not the other way around. But he knew that Ludwig's wounds needed to be dressed.
"Der kleine Bruder," Gilbert began softly, prying Ludwig's hands from his shirt. "I- I need to fix your cuts."
Ludwig took in several deeps breaths before allowing his brother up to gather the things needed to fix the man's back. Gilbert ran into the bathroom, not wanting to leave his little brother alone for any longer than needed.
A few moments later, he was back in the bedroom. Ludwig was sitting up on the bed, Indian-style, facing away from his older brother. Gilbert slowly approached him, placing a hand on the German's shoulder. "Luddie?"
Ludwig jumped, looking at his brother. His whole face was flushed a deep red from crying and embarrassment. Quickly as he had turned, Ludwig turned back around. Gilbert sighed. "Oh, Bruder... It's nothing to be ashamed of-"
"I'm Deutschland. I'm s- supposed to be strong. I-"
"Oh, for Gott's sake, West! Shut up!"
Ludwig's eyes widened a bit.
"Gott, Bruder, nobody can be strong all the time! If you don't cry, you're not human. And..." Gilbert shuffled his feet a bit, looking at the slashes on his little brother's back. "Luddie, W- West... I want to help you, if you'll let me... Bitte..."
Ludwig's shoulder's relaxed, and Gilbert could hear him sigh. Neither man said anything.
Gilbert sat down behind his brother, bringing out the antiseptic. "This is gonna sting, West."
Ludwig mumbled something, and Gilbert frowned. "What was that, West?"
"It... It's a good kind of pain, Bruder. The kind that.. that lets me know... it's all over." Ludwig turned, smiling gently at his brother. "It's good to know that... That I have you back, Bruder..."
More tears built in Gilbert's eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. "I- Ich liebe dich, der kleine Bruder."
Ludwig's smile broadened a bit, his eyes full of joy and pain at the same time. "Ich liebe dich, auch, älteren Bruder."
November 9th, 1989.
It was the most painful day of Ludwig's life.
But also the best.