Author: Cyhirae

Note: So what do you get when you give me a CD that's half Arkona, half Oomph and one misplaced Sonata Arctica track "Ruins of My Life" to listen to while she does housework after a night discussing fun (evil) things that could be done to Hetalia characters in a more serious setting with her partner in crime? -Well lots of things, but this fic is one of them. It's a spin off/AU of an idea we'd had to use elsewhere in another format. Rating is for Gilbert's mouth and 'imaginary' violence. And angst. It's Gilbert going to Kaliningrad. Lots of angst in the beginning, and apologies ahead of time to anyone Russian or of Russian ancestry; having Gilbert think nice thoughts about Russia and its inhabitants at the start would be highly out of character.

This starts off first person in the first chapter, shifts into stream of consciousness in the second, and then back again to first in the final chapter. Human names are mostly used; country names only for effect.

Disclaimer: Yeah, Hetalia still isn't mine and never will be; not even the idea fully is (Hi Lumineux! XD) just the words on this page are. I'm sure the characters are delighted about that.

This will be a three parter. Title is subject to change if I think of a better one; I'll take suggestions!

I really shouldn't have bothered to take that bastard's offer. I was standing out here, in the middle of Königsberg- damned if I was calling it Kaliningrad! - in the middle of the night, looking at what that baby faced psychopath did to my home.

No, it wasn't bad enough he'd shelled the actual city to the point there wasn't hardly anything left of it beyond a few still standing structures. He had gone told them to build another city over it; keeping the structures that survived…and then forced every last Prussian and German out, one way or the other.

I'm in the heart of what used to the cradle that gave birth to my existence and it was just some hyped up Russian base- with tourist attractions! What next; history tours?

"Looks nice, da~?" That high, too soft voice comes from the figure at my side I had been trying to ignore; I don't even know why I bothered to say yes to this. Maybe he's just trying to butter up to West now that he's lost that over bloated nightmare he'd made over the years. Not too many people were willing to get friendly with him yet.

"It looks like shit. What the hell did you do to Königsberg? If you were going to tear it down, you should have taken it all down!" There were familiar things here I didn't want to see in a town that was so plainly Russian; the Gates, the old Exchange- these were German- Prussian!- things. They shouldn't be in some god forsaken Russian enclave that never should have been theirs!

"Aah…" The tone is oddly disappointed as Ivan sighs, moving a step closer. I don't give up any of my ground; I do level a glare at him, though. I might not be a nation anymore; but I will still make him remember pissing me off the following day if he tries anything. "And here I thought you would appreciate being able to see your homeland on the eve of your birthday. I am trying to be nice, da?"

"You want 'nice'? Then give it back! Then I'll kick every one of your people's ruskie asses out and invite some of West's in." Now that would be some sweet revenge; when Germany and Prussia fell apart, they went on that 'expulsion' craze to chase them all out; I'd love to do the same right back.

"Hmm…not yet." Ivan is raising his hand then with a little shake of the finger, a broad smile stretching his lips. "You are an impatient little boy, wanting a present just a few minutes before his birthday!"

"Shut the hell up, Ivan; what would you know about my birth-" Well one thing to remember about Ivan; his arms are longer than that husky body makes them look as he slaps a gloved hand over my mouth, fingers digging into my cheeks and jaw briefly while he holds on.

Even on my strongest of days, Ivan's grip would have been hard to break. Now, I'm clawing and tugging at his hand, to no real effect.

"I looked it up. It is so interesting the things you can find now! And Germans do things in such neat, orderly stages it can be so easy to find out what you want to know. I had to read for awhile; but this finally became a kingdom on January 18th, 1701, da?" That bastard is still smiling as he pretends he's not aware of me cursing him under that hand, talking pleasantly as he goes. Finally he lets go so I can pull back, feeling bruises already forming on my jaw.

"So you can do a little research; good for you!" I start walking away from him at a double pace- yes, coming here had been a bad idea and then some. But there was one thing I wanted to see before I left. I can already guess I won't like what I see; knowing those damned Russians, they probably turned Königsberg castle into some Party building back in the day. Ivan follows a little ways behind me, just chuckling to himself.

The remaining marks of what this place used to be are all I need to find my way; or so I thought. By the time I finally let myself slow down, I have to admit to myself at least I might be lost. After all, Königsberg Castle should be right here.

Not this ugly, warped looking thing. What the hell….

"What the hell is this?" A tiny, embarrassed cough is my only answer until I turn to face him. Ivan holds his hands up as if to ward off a blow- like he'd have much to worry about- that smile of his turning positively sheepish.

"Aah- I have to admit we made a bit of a mistake. The castle had been bombed and when we tried to fix it, it sunk!" With that, he's spreading his hands out into a helpless, 'oh well!' style shrug. "We tried to fix it again but it didn't go very well, da? Heheh! I am so very sorry about that!"

He had known exactly what I was looking for and just let me go and find it. I want to scream at the bastard, to pound his face into the street we're standing on. I should have ignored that 'invitation'; West had wanted me to. But I had just had to see it for myself.

I'd take it all back some day; then I'd make him pay in spades. I was still Prussia; as long as I was around, it still was and could rise up to kick ass just like it used to. I'd make it twice as strong, and take it straight into Moscow; level that god damned piece of rainbow colored shit they called the Kremlin to the ground.

"You son of a bitch…" I start to advance on the laughing Russian; Ivan doesn't look worried, however. Why should he, the more logical part of my mind is saying. I have no army and right now, this is his turf. Not mine.

Maybe it's that realization that makes my step falter. My legs suddenly feel unsteady, my stomach clenching uneasily as I try to reclaim my balance. No, something else is wrong…I'm sure of it.

Somewhere, off in the city, a clock is starting to chime. Ivan watches me a moment, then steps forward to close the distance that suddenly seems impossible to move one step further on.

What the hell? Why can't I…I can't even say it. The bruises Ivan left there are going numb; all of me is. He catches me as I start to collapse, smiling down as the next, drawn out chime resounds.

"Yes, I can read; I can talk to people too, da? I heard an interesting story once; about how 'Deutschland' started. Ooh, I don't mean what's in the history books of course." He taps my nose like I'm some sort of idiot brat he's giving a bedtime story to at that as he lowers me to the ground. "I heard that one day, a little boy was found wandering in lands already taken. Then someone decided to take that boy and gave him some of their lands, making the boy his little brother. It is such a sweet story, da?"

The chimes continue to toll; the third or fourth one now perhaps? I'm losing count; I'm losing everything. Feeling, sight; but I can still hear him talking. Why was it getting dark? Damned Russians weren't so cheap they didn't even bother to leave them on all night, were they?

"I heard that story and thought to myself 'Wouldn't that be nice, to have a little brother?'; I have an older sister and a younger one…but I don't have a brother." There is just the faintest, most distant of sensations; someone putting their hand on my head, I think. "I like that story; so I decided to try it! We all like fairytales that come true, da?"

Pain has begun to replace numbness with every last chime of that clock, clawing through every bone and muscle. I feel that hand that had been on my hair slip to my forehead instead, then the damp warmth of someone's breath against my ear in the January chill….

"Happy birthday~! I give you Kaliningrad, just like you wanted." The last chime strikes; if I could scream I would at the pain it brings; or maybe it would be in response to the words that chase me down into darkness as the sound of that chime fades. "I wonder what I should name you~!"

~To Be Continued~

For the curious: Look up Dom Sovetov to see what replaced Königsberg Castle. -I'd be pretty mad too considering what the castle looked like. However, 'local legend' calls the apparent refusal of the landscape to host a completed new building "The Revenge of the Prussians", as the cellars and tunnels of the old castle are what continue to make construction near impossible to finish.

Fun fact: Despite the age of that castle (and it was quite old) the walls were thick and well built enough they survived the bombing where the necessarily weaker, interior parts of the castle did not. Despite being burned to the ground, these had to be removed the old fashioned way after the area was taken. No shock at all the caves underneath collapsed given what they had to do to even take that castle down.