October 3, 1990, is the day of German reunification, the day that East and West Germany formed into a single state. In Hetalia canon, Prussia refers to Germany as 'West', indicating that he is East Germany, which is actually different from the nation-state of Prussia. The Prussian state was formally dissolved in 1947, but like Hima did, I'm going to morph East Germany and Prussia into the same person for the sake of the story. Thanks for reading! And German's not my first language, so if you see any glaring typos, feel free to review/PM me. Chapter title translation: Time is short.

Gilbert Beilschmidt knew it the moment he woke up. It was very subtle; his body still hadn't recovered from the hard years spent under that bastard Soviet Union's control, so he constantly felt weak or ill. But this…this was different. He knew he was dying, because the election was today. Today was the day that their people, his and Ludwig's, would vote on whether or not to unite the two German states. The weak pulse in his pale, veiny wrist told him what they had chosen. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even bitter. He felt almost relieved. He knew that Ludwig would take care of his people, just as he had taken care of Ludwig's people as he was growing up. But that didn't mean it was easy.

He opened his slightly dimmed crimson eyes on that fresh, chilly October morning and rose out of the bed that he kept on the second floor of Ludwig's Hamburg apartment. He went to the window and forced it open with more than his usual difficulty, but the view was well worth it. He could see little German children running in the streets with a ball, screaming and laughing in a way that brought a smile to his chapped lips. There were two children that reminded him of Italy and Holy Rome down there, but maybe he was just becoming a sentimental old man. That was probably it. The wind blew down from the bakery down the street, filling his lungs with the smell of good, hearty German food. Gott, he loved Hamburg. It was one of his favorite cities. He loved Berlin too, of course, but he couldn't go over there. It had been barely a year since that horrific wall had fallen, and he had no intention of spending his last day on earth there. No way. Instead, he shuffled over to the phone attached to the wall, something Ludwig had forced him to buy so he could "keep him out of trouble". Both brothers knew that was really code for "so you can call me if you get too sick", but neither of them would ever say that. That's not how Germans dealt with things. He waited until his hands stopped shaking and picked it up, dialing in the numbers he knew by heart.

"Hola," came a chipper voice. "Quien es este?"

"It's Prussia," Gilbert said slowly, running a nervous hand through his shockingly white hair. "Listen, I…I need to talk to you." He forced himself to sound upbeat. After all, this was Antonio, one of his oldest friends. Talking to Francis would be much harder. "Can you come by Lud's today?"

"Ah, Prusia," the Spaniard said warmly. "Is everything alright, amigo? You sound more tired than usual."

As if on cue, Gil coughed hard, and made the mistake of looking at his hand. It came away bloody. "Scheisse," he muttered. He didn't have time for this.

"What was that?"

"Ah, nothing. So, can you come by? I kinda need to know," he said in a rush.

"Si, si. Want me to invite Francis?" His friend asked.

"Ja, that'd be great. You know where Lud lives, right?" He queried, relieved that he wouldn't have to talk to Francis on the phone himself. The Frenchman could read him like a book, whereas Antonio wasn't necessarily able to pick up on Prussia's emotions, at least not as much.

"Si, I'll see you this afternoon!"

"Great," Gilbert said, forcing himself to sound enthusiastic. "See you in a few hours, man." He hung up and turned back to look at his room and felt a wave of nostalgia pass over him. A framed photo caught his eye from his dresser. He got dressed in a flash and went over to the photo, cradling it affectionately in his callused hands. It was a picture of him and Hungary, from after her divorce with Austria. The brunette leaned heavily on him, grinning up at the camera with a mischievous gleam in her large green eyes, dressed in traditional Hungarian clothes. She looked stunning. He flushed a little when he saw the tender smile on the face of the albino standing next to her, his arm tightly squeezing her shoulders as if he could see into the future, as if he could see the horrors that awaited them in the next world war. "Elizabeta," he murmured. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was only eight thirty. Being a soldier most of his life made him an early riser. He had time to go see her, he figured.

He walked down the stairs, purposely making a lot of noise because he wanted Ludwig to think he was feeling better, that he had some of his energy back. The effort cost him some short breaths, but it was worth it when he came into the kitchen and saw his younger brother in that stupid apron that Italy had bought him a few years back, frying some potatoes and eggs for their breakfast.

"Bro, you know that apron hurts my awesome eyes," he teased as the other German turned from his stove to give him a half-hearted scowl.

"I see you're feeling better," Ludwig said, electing not to reply to his older brother's needling. He slid a plate of fresh food in front of him and went back to his stove.

"Er, yeah," Gilbert lied, stuffing his mouth with food even though he wasn't that hungry. "I feel like a Teutonic Knight again, I really do." Okay, maybe he was laying it on a bit thickly. But Ludwig looked happy at the idea, if skeptical. Gilbert's heart twisted a little at the thought of leaving his little brother alone. Gott only knew that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. And he had Italy and Japan, and Gilbert knew that Austria and Hungary would look after him too. No, he had no real reason to worry. He had made sure that he took the brunt of the consequences of World War II, refusing to let his baby brother be occupied by that Russian bastard. No, far better for him to have to deal with England, America, and France (his heart clenched a little at the thought of his old friend) than that Soviet bastard. All of a sudden, the potatoes in his mouth felt like sand, and he felt sick at the thought of living under the former Soviet Union. But he didn't have time for that. He had too much to do today.

"Hey, Lud, can I borrow your car?"

"Was? What do you need it for?" Ludwig asked with a slight frown, coming down to sit across from his elder brother at the table. Again, Gilbert was struck by how huge his little brother was. The solidly built German man easily passed six feet, and he was as smart as a whip, smarter and stronger than Gilbert had ever been, even in his prime. Those sharp blue eyes studied him carefully, taking in the Prussian man's toothy smile and the shadows under his usually vibrant eyes.

"I'm gonna go see Elizabeta," he said offhandedly, shifting the food around on his plate so he wouldn't have to meet his brother's gaze.

"Ja, if you're careful," Ludwig said finally. "Are you sure you're, ah, well enough to drive?" Usually people visited Gilbert, not the other way around, so he wouldn't have to ask Ludwig to drive him. It was too much for the albino's pride.

"Please, you underestimate the awesome me," Gilbert said, rolling his eyes. "And I'm sure Liz is pining away for me." He laughed, a little bitterly. He missed his best friend like hell, but sometimes being around her was just too painful. Even if he wasn't in love with her, being around her just reminded him of the years spent under Soviet control, and neither of them wanted that. But he had to see her.

"Of course," Ludwig said with a tiny smile. "Give her my regards, will you?" His brother was very fond of the Hungarian woman, partly because she sometimes managed to keep Gil in line. But only sometimes.

"Sure thing, West," he said with a grin, catching the keys that his brother threw at him. "I'll see you in a few hours. Oh, and if Antonio and Francis come by before I get back, don't let them in my room, ja? Francis has a spare key, so you may have to watch out for him."

"Warum—agh, alright," Ludwig said grumpily. He didn't really have the heart to deny his brother whatever he wished, even if he wasn't terribly fond of his idiot friends. He felt like a parent sometimes, instead of the younger brother. "Be careful."

"Ja, Mutter," Gil said, ruffling the younger man's perfectly combed hair affectionately before leaving the small German flat, excited at the prospect of taking his brother's beautiful car for a spin.

The Soviet Union, the United States, France, and England divided up Germany after the second World War in order to monitor the destroyed country. The Soviet Union got what later became known as the Eastern Bloc, with a great wall running through Berlin, the Berlin Wall. I'm sure most of y'all know this, but I wanted to clarify for anyone who didn't. The history of the Soviet Union really fascinates me. They were certainly vengeful towards Germany after the war-they did lose ~ 26.6 million people during and after that war, citizens and military combined. It was horrible. And Germany did try to invade Russia. You can only imagine how that would effect their treatment after they lost. There is an entire poem, Prussian Nights, written by a Russian author describing the rape and pillage of German towns after the war. It's a horrible tragedy all around, and I think it would've scarred Gil for the rest of his life.

German:

Gott - God

Scheisse - shit

Ja - yes

Was - what

Warum - why

Mutter - mother

Spanish-

Hola - hello

Quien es este - who is this

Prusia - Prussia

Si - yes