The Little Things

Germany stood in front of France, looking down at the battered and bruised nation, blood soaking through his shirt in places. France was defeated, all that was left now was to conquer England and there would be no one left, no one to destroy his boss's plans for the rest of the world. They would rid the world of all those filthy Jews; those who fault it had been in the first place, the whole reason that he had been stuck in a slum in the first place.

"Pick him up." commanded Ludwig,

Two SS soldiers came on either side of Francis and hauled him roughly to his feet. The Frenchman blanched his face losing even more blood and as he cough blood which spattered onto Ludwig's impeccably clean uniform.

"What a pitiful defence France." He stated in a bored mono-tone voice, blue eyes locked on France's, "What I don't understand is why your citizens felt the need to go to such lengths to defend themselves. They knew that their defeat was inevitable, yet they still fought, stupidity in my opinion."

France kept his head up as best he could not breaking eye contact, "You know maybe if you had just kept to the treaty thing would have not turned out like this, oui?"

Germany slapped him, causing the blonde's head to snap painfully to the side.

"How dare you," He hissed, "How dare you say that, that war was partly your fault too begin with and you expected me to fix everything? You wanted ME to pay for YOUR house construction? MY people were starving! MY people couldn't even find work! MY people couldn't find food. Do you know how it feels to have something like that happen, to feel your people slowly starve to death? To feel their pain and suffering as clearly as if it was your own? Well you will, Francis, you will find out and I don't give a shit what you say. I hope you die." The normally in calm blond was out of control, infuriated by the long haired blond.

France steadied himself, keeping his head down, more from the shame of what he had known was happening, then from humiliation. Ludwig calmed himself looking at France, "My boss is coming to see what has become of your country." He smirked, "I'm sure he will be pleased to see its destruction from its highest peak." The two of them both turned and looked at the Eiffel Tower. It stood, untouched by the destruction around it.

Ludwig started, looking back to Francis as a laugh suddenly bubbled up in his throat. "You would think that, non? But you will find it very difficult to conquer." He chuckled weakly again. Suddenly there was a grating sound and a small crash, coming from that direction.

Ludwig rounded on the Frenchman. "What did you do?"

Francis smiled hazily, "It was a unanimous decision. Your boss will never make it to the top of the tower unless he wants to climb up its side."

A man ran up to Ludwig, "Sir!" he whispered. "The lift cables were cut."

"Can't you get spare parts?" Ludwig asked, anger growing.

"No sir. They are impossible to obtain, all supplies are focused on the troops." The soldier said.

Ludwig turned to France once more. The man hung between the SS officers, now giving up all hope in supporting himself. Francis felt Ludwig's boot connected with his face, sending him flying backwards a few feet, his skull hitting the ground hard. "That is for your insult." He said crisply, he singled for the men to bring France with them and waited for them to retrieve him.

As soon as France was close enough he spoke with the last of his strength, "You may have conquered me, but you will never conquer the Eiffel Tower."

PLEASE REVIEW

Love all reviewers and reward them with cookies. This is also a repost as I edited it. YAY!

Sooooo this was inspired when I was doing research for another story and I liked the idea I got. Anyway any info I used was at wikipedia under the Eiffel Tower or World War Two. France got it butt kicked in BOTH world war… make you wonder how he still alive and kicking eh?

– I DO NOT HATE JEWISH PEOPLE! I love you all very much! Please don't take offence to this ^^;