Stop, Rewind, Start Again

Darkness surrounded him when he woke up. He was unable to move with his arms and legs bound to the chair that he was sitting on. There was a blindfold around his eyes and his mouth felt dry from the gag in it. Half-healed and infected wounds were scattered all over his body; the pain he felt made him want to fall back unconscious almost at once. Besides, it did not make much sense to stay awake when there was nobody to torment you.

He took a deep breath and tried to move his head, but regretted the motion immediately. A jolt of pain went down his spine and suddenly stars were dazzling his vision so much that he thought he would go blind. He snorted and told himself that this was impossible. Or maybe he was blind already, it would not surprise him. His body was a mess anyway.

"Ah, Prussia-chan, are you awake?" he heard a voice a little from his left.

Gilbert Weillschmidt froze.

Oh no, not him.

Everybody was fine. Arthur, well, he was a sadist at heart, a pervert and an asshole who seized every chance to show everybody who was the boss, but that was fine. He would not go and kill a country just to see how it looked. He'd only do it accidentally. Alfred would be fine, too! He was probably the most harmless out of the people he could think about with all the hero-shit and stuff. And Francis… Well, he was too much of a pansy to ever accomplish anything, so he would be fine.

But Ivan?

Fucking Ivan Braginski?

No way in hell would he survive his treatment.

"Ah, I see you are. Please continue breathing, I still need you."

Gilbert growled, wanting to spit out that he would rather die than be used by that fatso, but there were a lot of things that stopped him from that and the fact that he had not drunk anything since he remembered anything was only the least important one.

Thus he forced himself to breathe evenly, but in a controlled way. He did not want to show the bastard how much power he had over him.

"Good boy…"

Gilbert heard a chair being dragged over the wooden floor and he cringed. He wanted to cry out that the wood had been expensive, that it should be handled with care and not violated by dirty boots and heavy chairs, but the gag-ball stopped any coherent word on his tongue.

It was too dark to see anything, to see which room they were in, if they were still in Königsberg or somewhere else already. As if he had read his thoughts, Ivan turned on the lights and the sudden change made Gilbert squeeze his eyes shut. It took him a while until he could open them again and even then did he have to squint because he was completely dried out and his every muscle protested against any movement, those in his eyes not excepted.

"Ah, I'm sorry… Is it too bright?" Ivan asked lightly, as if they were talking about the weather.

Gilbert tried to glare at the taller man, the only thing that he was able to do, but of course that got him nowhere. He tried to blink his eyes open, but what he could see told him his current location. He was in the Castle of Berlin, which looked horrible inside now; all of its treasures had been removed but at least it was still in one piece. There were windows behind him, he knew he could reach them if he wanted to, but he was so thirsty… If only he could get some water…

"Are you thirsty?" Ivan asked and produced a bottle of vodka from the depths of his coat.

Hell, even though he knew that it would kill him, Gilbert wanted to down that bottle of liquid in one gulp. It was even more a torture when Ivan only nipped on it, recapping it when he had barely drunk anything. The Prussian's tongue watered and a small trickle of spit made its way to the corner of his mouth, where it slowly ran down to his chin.

It seemed to amuse Ivan though, because a smile started to form around his mouth, but his eyes showed this hungry gleam that Gilbert usually saw directed at other people, not him. But he knew there were times when Ivan looked like that at everybody and since he was one of the closer nations, he knew he was going to be the next one.

Ludwig had promised him that would not happen. He had told him that they would be able to surprise Ivan and conquer Russia even though everybody else had failed before. Because they were awesome and they could do anything in this war. Kiku would keep Ivan busy on the other side of the continent and who was so stupid to fight against two strong enemies on both sides of such a vast country?

He should have listened to his guts, should have been wary about breaking the Non-Aggression-Pact between them and conquering Moscow. Everything went too smoothly then, until winter came.

It just went downhill from then. Arthur – that bastard – managed to get backups from Alfred, this time faster because the Americans knew that they were in danger after this very successful Pearl Harbor attack from Japan. Suddenly Ludwig and Gilbert found themselves fighting on both sides and since he knew that it would be futile if they continued to fight together, the two of them had separated, each of them defending their parts of the Reich. But everybody knew it was just a matter of time before they broke. It was impossible to fight and win a war on so many fronts, especially for such a small country like Germany and they were rapidly running out of manpower.

It was only logical that they lost in the end. It all took way too fucking long.

And now he had to face the consequences. He just hoped that Ludwig was doing better with the combined powers of Arthur, Alfred and Francis. One thing was sure though: They were nowhere near as rotten as Ivan was.

Mentally sending prayers to the heavens, asking for forgiveness as he was sure that he was not going to live for long anymore, Gilbert almost did not notice when Ivan asked him a question.

"Prussia-chan… Do you want to live?"

It was an innocent, almost curious question. Nevertheless it had the desired impact.

Gilbert stared at the man with the big nose, wondering if this was part of his torture, because it sounded very much like he was trying to do him a favor there.

"Your brother… Germany… He has abandoned you."

'That's not true, and you know it, bastard,' Gilbert spat mentally. His eyes narrowed, listening intently though, because there was this little voice in his head that asked him if he really believed that. Where was Ludwig if he cared so much about him now? Would he not be there to save him, to spare him from this torture?

Why was he there alone with Ivan? Where were the other Allies? And their allies? Where were they? Why was nobody there with him and Ivan? What had happened?

Gilbert started to sweat; cold, sticky sweat that made him wonder where his body took all this liquid from when he felt like had not drunk anything in years.

There was a newspaper in front of his face suddenly and it showed the date of February 26th, 1947. Frowning, Gilbert wondered how long he had been unconscious; the last date that he could remember was some time in 1945, after Hitler and all the others had committed suicide to be saved of the shame that he – and Ludwig on the other side – had to go through now instead.

What stopped his pondering in that direction immediately though, was the headline on the newspaper: "The Final End of Prussia – Allies Sign Law."

Gilbert stared at the black letters on the newspaper, not believing his eyes. They did what? They decided that he did not exist anymore, just like that? Without seeing his corpse or anything? …What the hell?!

Struggling against his restrictions, the former state of Prussia tried to break free, tried to free his arms so that he could rip the gag out of his mouth and voice his anger over this bullshit. But before he managed to even move a digit, Ivan had taken the newspaper out of his line of vision and replaced it with his face as he lifted the smaller one's chin with his index finger.

"Did you see that, former Prussia-chan?" he asked with a voice like honey, raising the little hairs on the neck of the white haired one. "You're dead now. Just like that, because somebody signed a law."

Gilbert lifted his chin in defiance, fire burning in his ruby eyes, as if to mock the other, saying "I'm still here, I'm invincible," with every fiber of his being.

Somehow, this only seemed to amuse Ivan further.

"You're such a strong one, aren't you? And so defiant, too… Even if everybody thinks you're dead, you still walk around and prove everybody wrong, just because you are so full of yourself," he cooed happily, as if he had won a bet or something.

Furrowing his brow, Gilbert stared back at those impossible purple eyes, wondering what the bastard had in mind.

"Oh, you were dead, I should know that since I was the one who killed you," Ivan continued after he straightened, looking very satisfied with himself. "You screamed so nicely… I'm happy that you're back."

'What the hell is this bastard talking about?' Gilbert wondered, frowning deeply.

"It was so much fun breaking your spine… ripping out your heart, breaking your each and every bone…" Gilbert shuddered as Ivan licked his lips, as if in anticipation of doing it again. "You do have a really good voice, almost better than that of Lithuania-chan, did you know? No wonder Germany kept you around."

Gilbert growled lowly in the back of his throat, though it sounded more like a wail thanks to how dry it was. How dare he badmouth Ludwig?! His little brother would never do anything like that bastard did: he was much too soft-hearted to be like that.

"We had a lot of fun with Poland at the beginning of the war, hm? Oh, and all the Jews that you two killed, that must have been fun, too." Ivan reminded him of things that he was not even the slightest bit proud of and he had asked Ludwig countless times if it had really been necessary, but received only one answer: It's better for the Reich, the Führer wants it.

"But then you started doing the same to my children; that was not nice. Not to mention the treachery of you attacking me," Ivan said, looming over him now. Gilbert made a sound with his tongue, the only alternative to biting his lip that he had. Of course he knew that. He knew it would come back to him, too, once the war was over. Those kinds of things always came back to you when you did not pay attention. But that it would happen like this…

"It was only fair doing that to you, don't you think?" Ivan said. "Oh, and your beloved Königsberg will never be yours again. It's mine now. Don't you think that Kaliningrad is a much nicer name?"

With the last bit of power that he had left in his bones, Gilbert pushed himself up on his feet, crouching up into an almost standing position, but one strong hand on his shoulder pushed him down easily.

"You can't do anything anymore, my dear Gilbert Weillschmidt. The state of Prussia is dead. It will never play a role in the theater of history again," Ivan said with a voice that was colder than the coldest parts of Siberia.

'What do you want from me?!' Gilbert tried to growl, but it only came out as unintelligible nonsense.

"Why are you still here, right? Because I need you. For my revenge," Ivan said, his voice as sweet as candy again. "The other Allies and especially America-kun seem to have forgotten how much I had to suffer under your attacks and are being far too soft with your brother and your memory… I want to show them that it's not a good idea to belittle me."

Once again, Gilbert lifted his chin in defiance and snorted. He would never help Ivan to do such a petty thing. He just had to get out of here and get to Ludwig: he would help him and if the other Allies were as weak as Ivan made them sound, it would be as easy as cake to get his lands back, especially his dear Königsberg.

Ivan looked at him, slightly disappointed, but also obviously satisfied for the day. He stood up with a sigh and smiled sweetly at his captive.

"I know you will change your mind… soon."

And with that, he left.

~*~

The following weeks went by terribly fast for Gilbert. He was allowed to drink water and eat some stale bread, from time to time he even got a piece of cheese or an apple, but most of the time his diet consisted of simple, cheap things.

After the gag had been removed, Ivan had tried talking to him again, but Gilbert kept stubbornly quiet. He would not be the great Russia's puppet; he still had some fight left in him. A real Prussian would rather die than become a prisoner to such a bloody bastard like Ivan.

After about two weeks they trusted him so much though that they untied him and allowed him to sleep on a bed, still in the same room of the castle. Still, they took good care to feed him only enough for him to live, but not enough for him to rebuild some strength to attempt to flee.

Ivan had his own perverted ways to prevent that.

After four weeks Gilbert had had enough of the ropes. He told Ivan flat out that he was too weak to run away anyway and asked why he bothered to tie him to the bed if he knew that fact, too. The other had laughed and told him it was more fun like that.

He took good care that Gilbert had to relive everything that those bastards in the KZs did with the prisoners there. He took good care to give it back to him twice as bad as the captive white-haired one remembered it was. Ivan did every horrible thing imaginable and then went even one step further. More than once Gilbert found himself hanging on the brink of death, almost welcoming it, but then Ivan told him about his brother and the things Ivan wanted to do to him. That he made the red-eyed one suffer so much because he deserved all of Germany to be his and not just the eastern parts.

While Ivan ranted on and on about the beautiful things he would do to Ludwig once he was finished with him, Gilbert vowed to himself to do everything within his power to protect his little brother from this maniac, even if he would go insane in the process.

June 21st 1948 came and went and Gilbert lost all hope of being saved by his brother. Ludwig thought he was dead – had every right to do so, too – he was busy trying to restore his part of Germany. The West-Allies had decided to act without their Eastern partner and introduced a new currency to their occupied states: The Deutsche Mark.

He was glad though that Ivan was so busy with the people in his occupied zones and the menace of a giant inflation if they did not change the money as well. Within three days they had to come up with their own currency and everything turned into chaos. People fled into the west zones and Gilbert felt the weakest since he had woken up and this time it had nothing to do with the things Ivan had done to him.

And then Ivan finally did something to save him. He did not do the right thing, but he tried to save as much as he could: He blocked each and every way in and out of the borders of his occupied zone. For Gilbert it meant no change – he had been shackled to the bed by his weakened state – but now he was completely unable to move, thanks to the chains on his every limb.

But it helped. He regained some strength and soon enough he was struggling so hard against the shackles that Ivan had to use all of his energy to keep him down. The ropes came back, along with the blindfold and gag and while Ivan violated his body, Gilbert made his own plans to get free of this miserable situation he was in, his mind free.

Then came May 23rd of 1949, the day that the Basic Constitutional Law of the Federal Republic of Germany came into effect, the day that Gilbert knew there was no way to get back to his brother, at least not as things were. The following week Gilbert was allowed to listen to the radio, to the news non less, which was quite weird since Ivan tried to withhold any and all information from him; but what he heard made his face harden, even under the enigmatically smiling eyes of the other.

Ludwig was talking about the Eastern Occupied Zones as if he wasn't a nation, as if they were just some piece of land with no character, nothing. And for somebody like Gilbert, who had struggled to be renowned for all his existence, this coming from the one he had called his brother once felt like a punch in the guts.

"Ivan…" he growled after hearing something about the glorious BRD for the tenth time that day plus the thanks to the West-Allies for the great effort of supplying West-Berlin with supplies during the blockade, receiving a curious glance. "Make me strong… I will become a nation again, a proud nation, just like you want me to be. I'll be strong and show my brother who's the better of us two. I'm still the older one… that bastard knows nothing!"

Ivan smiled broadly at that, purple eyes twinkling with a childish mirth that Gilbert hadn't seen for a long time; he was more accustomed to eyes as cold as the Siberian winter, but seeing those made a shiver run down his back and not the good kind. He was scared, but there was no way that he would let that on, now that he had healed up enough to be strong and shining again. And he would shine, outshine them all and then his brother would have to acknowledge him and then…

…then what?

~*~

"America-kun, there is somebody I want to introduce you to," Ivan grinned, making Ludwig look up from where he stared at the papers on the table. Those documents about an election in the soviet-occupied zone of his land that indicated they were also introducing their own constitutional law, but there was some mishap with the actual votes, so that most of the invalid votes were counted as "yes". He knew that there wouldn't be a quick solution now, not with Alfred and Ivan baring their fangs like that in each and every conference. To think that they had worked together during the war to defeat him…

"Soon you will see much more of him, but since I am especially happy today I will allow you a first glimpse," Ivan said and chuckled, making Ludwig frown slightly over the glasses that he had started wearing, mostly to distinguish himself from his old looks: he was sick and tired of them. He was even contemplating discarding his usual hairstyle, but without it, he felt strangely exposed and insecure, just like the little boy that he had been not so long ago and yet ages away. And those were memories he didn't want to recall now, because they were mostly memories of his brother, who had disappeared without a trace and had been declared dead almost two years ago.

"What is it, communist?" Alfred asked, not even masking his distrust anymore. In fact he looked like he expected the Russian to drop an A-Bomb on them or something. Ludwig, who was glad that the war was over now thanks to all the damage that he did too, did not want to start a new one now, especially not one that would probably be fought out in his territory because he was right in the middle of these two superpowers. Hence he did his best to show them that he was still there, that he was still strong and that he would do his best to redeem the horrors that he had done in the last war. The last war ever, or so he hoped.

"Oh, you will like it, comrade capitalist," Ivan gave back, his tone as smooth and biting as quicksilver.

Ludwig frowned and watched the situation with growing worry.

"Come here… Германская Демократическая Республика," Ivan smiled and stepped away from the door to allow the others to look at the new arrival. He was clad in a similar way to the bigger nation with a uniform reminding them all instantly of those of the Wehrmacht, with black gloves and a thick red scarf around his neck that clashed slightly with the color of his eyes.

"Brother…" Ludwig gasped and dropped everything that he was holding, and everything happened to him in slow-motion. The last steps that the new nation took to stand next to his guardian, his own chair that toppled over as he stood up and tumbled to the smaller one, arms outstretched to hug his brother when all of this was suddenly stopped by a sharp pain to his jaw and the world turning upside down.

When everything was moving at the right speed and in the right direction again, he was holding his cheek and looked up at the new nation who looked down at him with pure hatred in his eyes.

"How dare you try lay a hand on me?" the nation that looked like his former brother asked, red eyes flashing.

Ludwig squinted, but his first impression was correct; the red of the eyes was different, it was not a purplish red anymore, but a pure red, not as dark as blood, but of the same color as Ivan's flag. And suddenly the scarf did not clash with those eyes any longer, suddenly it was the same color and Ludwig felt his face harden.

"I do not accept this! There has always been just one German Nation, not two!"

"He is right, Ivan," Arthur tried to reason, but as always, Alfred had shoved him out of the way.

"What is this fucked up thing, you filthy communist?! Are you trying to provoke us?"

The corners of Ivan's mouth twitched upwards a little, a shadow falling over his face as he faced the bespectacled nation. "Me? Provoke you? When your acts of provocation are not even cold yet?"

Predictably, Alfred frowned, once again missing the finer points of negotiating. "What do you mean?"

Ivan leaned forward and poked the smaller superpower in the chest with his index finger. "YOU were the first to introduce a new currency to Германия-kun, YOU were the one who founded the German Federal Republic just a few days ago, completely disregarding my say in this… and you accuse me of provocation? Amerika-kun, you surely must be joking."

Ivan's purple eyes told them that despite his words he was not amused at all, that he was in fact seething with anger and barely contained aggression.

Ludwig's eyes widened and he feared that something might be going terribly wrong between those two again, but he was still too much in shock to stop them. Still, he managed to scramble to his feet and approach the new nation again.

"…What is your name?"

The smaller one frowned and jutted out his chin in a defiant motion. "Gilbert Weillschmidt, idiot."

Ludwig's frown increased. "…Do you know my name?"

"…No."

The blond knew that was a downright lie and he gritted his teeth insolently, smirking to himself. "It is Ludwig, Bruder."

In the other's red eyes he saw that his smirk turned into something softer at that, but the other smirked back at him, self-assured, cocky and a little brazen. "I don't care, you will soon see who the better German Nation of us both is."

Ludwig straightened his back at that, regaining a lot of his authority and displaying his intimidating self like he had not done for a very long time now. He would take up this challenge and he would do his best to fight for a United Germany even if it would cost him his life.

Therefore, he only knew one answer to Gilbert's challenge: "There is only one German Nation."