13 March 1952
The pen pressed deeper into his finger, callusing his already scarred and worn hands. A decade ago he would have gladly traded the pen for a gun – hell he still would. His index finger twitched as the pen flew across the page, and he knew it was thinking the same thing: God I hate paperwork. Every so often he would steal a glance over at the coat rack where his overcoat and side arm hung, taunting him. One more hour. One more hour until he could leave his stifling office for weapons training.
Gott sei Dank, Gilbert thought, pausing momentarily in his stack of papers to run a hand through his hair. He was surprised to find it damp from perspiration as his back prickled with heat beneath his uniform. He hadn't realized he'd been sweating. His assistant must have turned up the radiator again. Ah, well. All the more reason to get out of that boiling office. He would, of course, be having a word with his assistant later. Gilbert pressed his lips into a grim line at the thought.
He set pen to paper once again, ready to carry on with his work when a shadow fell over his desk. Gilbert's jaw tightened. There was only one man – one nation – who could enter a room unnoticed and project a shadow so large.
"What do you want?" Gilbert said, not taking his eyes off his work.
"Gilbert," Russia tutted, "that is not how I taught you to receive visitors."
Gilbert huffed, slapping his pen down on the desk. "Fine. What do you want, comrade?" he amended with a nasty sneer.
Annoyance flickered briefly across Russia's face. "I have something for you," he said, his cheery tone belying the cold look he gave Gilbert.
"Oh really?" Gilbert said sarcastically, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. He kicked his chair away from the desk, propping his booted feet upon the laminate top. "And what is it this time? An overlooked Junker estate, perhaps, to add to the farming collective? Or is it another palace you want torn down? I coughed up dirt and dust every morning for nearly four fucking months after the Stadtschloss was razed – but I'm fine now, thanks for asking, I'd love to do it again I don't think."
Russia's eyes narrowed. "That was your government's decision – "
"My government," Gilbert scoffed.
"Yes, your government!" Russia shouted in a momentary loss of control, all false inflection gone from his voice. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to collect himself. "It was your government's decision," Russia continued calmly, "to distance itself from Prussia's imperial and military legacy."
"Hey! I'm right here!" Gilbert said, bristling at the way Russia's mouth twisted as he all but spat Gilbert's old name.
"No, you are not!" Russia seethed, violet eyes widening manically. "You have not been Prussia for five years! You are the German Democratic Republic. You are East Germany! Kindly remember that. Now," Russia continued, letting out a deep breath and reaching into his overcoat, "as I said, I have something for you."
Gilbert let his boots fall to the floor with an echoing thud as Russia pulled out a folded up piece of paper and held it out for Gilbert to take.
"What is this shit?" Gilbert spat, glaring at the white sheets in Russia's hand. "More paperwork? I've got enough already, thanks. As you can see, I'm quite busy." Gilbert spread his hands, indicating the stacks of folders and papers littering his desk.
"Just – read it!" Russia's hand shook with barely suppressed rage.
Gilbert gave the large nation a slanted glance before snatching the paper out of his hand and unfolded it to read. His brow knit as his eyes scanned further and further down the page, tossing it aside to read the next one and then the next before glowering up at Russia and asking: "What the fuck it this?"
Russia rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back and fake smile in place. "Just something my boss proposed to your brother's boss."
Gilbert felt something clench behind his navel. His mouth felt like it had forgotten how to work. Gilbert swallowed hard, trying to unstick it. "And…what did – he – say?"
"It has been declined," Russia said lightly, collecting the pages scattered on Gilbert's desk, tucking them back inside his overcoat.
Gilbert felt his pulse quicken, his breath coming out in heavy, noisy spurts. His hands gripped the edges of his desk, knuckles glowing white as he struggled to process what he'd just read, what he'd just heard.
"…Why?" Gilbert breathed.
"Why what?" Russia said.
"Why would you do this to me?"
The ghost of a smile tugged at Russia's lips but vanished the moment he began to speak. "Do what?" he asked innocently.
"Propose that I should...want me to – with him!"
At that, Russia really did smile. He shifted his gaze, focusing it on the edge of Gilbert's desk so the other would not see. "Gilbert, do you know why I put you in charge of the secret police rather than give you an office with the rest of your legislature?"
Gilbert's brow furrowed a moment, but Russia didn't give him a chance to answer.
"It is because you've forgotten how politics work. You fight for land, fight for power – and you forget a pen can be just as effective a weapon." As if to emphasize his point, Russia picked up Gilbert's fountain pen and examined it, eyes resting a moment on the pointed nib.
"Those are pretty words and all, but it still doesn't explain why you and your boss want to just give me up all of a sudden."
Russia let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "I did this for you, Gilbert."
"I'm sorry," Gilbert said, voice dripping with contempt, "but I don't see how any of this is for me." He got to his feet, palms flattened against the desktop. "All this shit you've been feeding me about how you saved me after I was dissolved – all your fucking Communist propaganda you forced me to learn – all my people's land you took and expropriated for your fucking Communist agenda! My culture! My fucking monuments! All gone! And now you just want to hand me back over to them! To the fucking enemy!?"
It happened in an instant – before Gilbert could react. A howl of pain ripped from his chest as Russia plunged the nib of his pen through the back of Gilbert's hand, his face pale and twisted into a hideous, wrathful guise.
"Now you listen to me, East," Russia snarled, one hand fisting in Gilbert's hair, yanking his head back so their gazes met while the other one held the pen firmly in place. "I did this for you. I do not appreciate my efforts being thrown back in my face!"
"H-how?" Gilbert sputtered, teeth clenched against the pain. "How is this for me? Do you know what'll h-happen to me if West and I reunite? I'll f-fucking tell you! I'll disappear!"
Russia's eyes bored into Gilbert's – violet scrutinizing crimson – before he let go of Gilbert's hair with such force he sent the smaller man's neck snapping back. He pulled the pen out of Gilbert's hand, black and red gushing out of the wound, and turned away, muttering curses under his breath as his arms flew in exaggerated arcs.
Gilbert staggered back and fell into his chair, watching in consternation as Russia warred with himself. The warm trickle of blood running down his forearm reminded him of the wound that needed tending. Gilbert pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand.
"You have no foresight!" Russia yelled, suddenly rounding on Gilbert. "You would have emerged an even greater power had your brother agreed to the terms! But no matter – " Russia inhaled a steadying breath – "he wants nothing to do with you. And it's quite obvious why. It's just too bad he wasn't successful in finishing you off sooner."
Russia strode from the room, shutting the door with such force it sent a crack running up through the glass, splitting Gilbert's name painted on the front.
Gilbert glared at the top of his desk – at the files of enemies to the state. With one well-aimed kick, he sent the desk toppling over. It crashed down with a floor shaking bang! Files flew everywhere, blanketing his office in a sea of endless paperwork – and Gilbert hid his face in his hands, unable to control the quaking in his shoulders.
.
.
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A/N Stalin Note – the first one, drafted March 10, 1952, basically called for the four Allied European powers to meet and discuss the peace treaty for Germany as called for in the Potsdam Agreement in 1945. Here's a website where you can read the note (take out the spaces, of course):
. g h i - d c . c f m ? = 3 0 8 2
. g h i - d c . c f m ? = 3 0 8 2
Needless to say, the Western powers were suspicious of Stalin's actions, thinking that Stalin just wanted to unify Germany so the USSR could eventually subsume the country as a whole. The chancellor of West Germany, Konrad Adenauer, viewed reunification as an abstract goal, and one that was only attainable after West Germany had established itself in Western Europe. But, ever the persistent s.o.b. that he was, Stalin followed up the first note with three more. In the years that followed, there arose debate about whether Stalin's offer was meant seriously and whether or not these "notes" had been a missed chance at reunification. In my head (and for this story), being the capitalist pig that I am, I sided with the Western view – Stalin's offer was not serious, all he wanted was a way to subjugate all of Germany (which, again in my head, if it had worked, Germany would have gone to Gilbert and not Ludwig since it would have been under USSR control.)
End of Prussia – 1918 was really the beginning of the end of Prussia. Wilhelm II abdicated as German Emperor and King of Prussia following the German Revolution. The Kingdom of Prussia became a free state (republic). During the Weimar years, Prussia was seen as a pillar of democracy – in contrast to its pre-war authoritarianism. The Prussian coup in 1932 changed that. The government of the Reich deposed the Prussian government using fabricated claims the government of Prussia had lost control of public order following the Bloody Sunday shootout in Altona, Hamburg. The Reich further went on the claim Social Democrats and Communists were planning a joint attempt to overthrow the government. So, in my head, with the Reich doing everything they can to take control of Prussia and bring it under German rule, Prussia's role as Germany's big brother has greatly diminished.
German Democratic Republic – formed October 7, 1949. The governing party of GDR was the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED), formed after a merger between the Communist Party of Germany and Social Democratic Party of Germany. The SED sought to form its own identity and distance GDR from the military and imperial legacy of Prussia. It destroyed a number of relics from former Prussian aristocracy – either tearing down Junker (Prussian landed nobility) mansions or taking the land to be used for collective farming initiatives, razing the Berliner Stadtschloss (Berlin City Palace), and removing statues and monuments.