The title means, "My Daddy and Father". This is the story of the Beilschmeidt brothers and Lukas, the personification of Berlin. Lukas calls Prussia his Vati (Daddy) and Germany his Vater (Father), because he belongs to both of them. (I seem to enjoy giving the countries children...)

Disclaimer: I don't own Germany or Prussia. Only little Lukas. Italics is German.

O-O-O-O

The door opened.

"Vati! Vater's home! VATER!" A child's shrill squeal of joy shattered the air.

"Sorry I'm late, bruder. My boss was having a very long meeting. You can go now." Germany crouched down to pick up the two-year-old who was clinging to his leg and giggling.

"Vater is scratchy," the tiny boy giggled, the slight stubble on Germany's cheek rubbing up against him.

Prussia smiled tiredly. "Thanks, West."

"Just go," Ludwig said with a sad smile. "I know you don't want to waste time talking to me."

Prussia was gone in a heartbeat.

Setting Berlin down to remove his coat, Germany smiled wryly at the child. "Just us tonight, ja Lukas? What should we have?"

"Wurst!" came the immediate reply.

Ludwig laughed. "I don't thinkVati would be very happy if the two of us ate his favorite dinner without him. How about some of the pasta from Italy? He and Rome just made some for us."

"Okay, Vater." Lukas ran into the kitchen, ready to help.

When they finished warming the pasta and making sauce, Germany sat Lukas in his highchair and gave him a bowl of pasta with red sauce. As an afterthought, he put on a bib. He didn't trust Lukas to eat his food neatly quite yet.

After dinner, Ludwig did the dishes, letting Berlin play with the dogs on the carpet and every so often looking up to check on them.

When he finished, he glanced up at the clock. "Gut your Vati isn't here, he'd throw a fit if he knew I let you stay up this late." Germany snatched up the toddler with a slight smile and carried him up to bed.

"Which pajamas tonight?" he asked, setting Lukas on the bed.

"Choo-choos! I want choo-choos!"

"Okay. Trains it is." Germany pulled the blue footies out of their drawer and started undressing the toddler.

"Vater?"

"Ja, Lukas?"

"Vati cries sometimes when he gets me dressed in the morning. Why?"

Germany looked up in surprise. He was shocked, but he knew why his brother cried. He let his eyes travel down the thick scar that reached from Lukas' right shoulder to just below his hip on the left.

"...I ...I don't know."

He knew perfectly well.

When the boy—only one year old in nation years—was literally ripped in two in 1961, they had both been horrified, even separated on their opposing sides.

Prussia was still afraid that one day he would pick up his baby and find his hands soaked in blood again. Sometimes the albino nation got out of bed in the middle of the night to watch Berlin sleep, to prove to himself that Lukas was all right.

"Vater? You're squishing me!"

Ludwig looked down and realized that he was hugging the child tightly. He let go. "Sorry, Lukas."

"It's okay, Vater! Can I go night-night now? I'm sleepy."

Germany set the child down in his bed. The three dogs immediately climbed in with him, prepared to guard the toddler from any danger. "Ja. Gut nacht, Lukas."

"Gut nacht, Vater!" Lukas waved as Ludwig shut the door.

The minute the door shut, Germany closed his eyes and leaned against it, sighing. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the door.

Today was August 13th. Today was the day the wall began.

Every year on this day, Prussia went out and got drunk out of his mind with Francis and Antonio. Germany took care of Lukas and tried not to think about it.

53 years, and it still didn't work for either of them.

Glancing up at the clock—a cuckoo clock, of course... ugh—Ludwig sighed. It was probably time to go save Prussia from whatever mess he'd made of himself.

O-O-O-O

"Gilbert. You're done." Prussia opened his eyes and saw a blurry face.

"Ngh... Th's mine... Give it." He reached up, trying to swat away the hand that was trying to steal his awesome beer.

"Prussia."

"Go 'way, West." Gilbert finally recognized the voice speaking.

He blinked. "You're *hic* sad. Whassamatter?"

"...you seem to have gotten sufficiently drunk as to forget what day it is. And that means it's time to go home."

"Hey West. I love you, 've I ever said that? 'Cause I looove you..."

Prussia frowned when he received no reply. Why wasn't Germany replying? "West? Don'tcha love me? You hate *hic* me... You probably think I'm 'n idiot."

"No, Gilbert. I would never think that. Now please come home."

Prussia gazed up through blurred vision. "'Kay, West."

He sat there for a bit longer, then suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Carry me!" Gilbert stumbled to his feet and flopped onto his brother with all the grace of a drunken hippopotamus.

He heard a loud sigh, and then his brother picked him up and slung him unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His hands dangled limply in the air as Ludwig carried him off.

"West? Hey West!"

"Was?"

"You smell nice..."

Germany sighed. "...Danke."

-0-0-0-0-0-

When they made it home, Ludwig carried his brother up the stairs and past Lukas' bedroom, then dumped him in his bed.

"Sorry West," Prussia mumbled. "I'm sorry..."

"...What?" Germany looked down. He hadn't even known his brother was still awake.

Gilbert was crying, silent tears on his cheeks. "I'm sorry. Every year I try to forget, but it doesn't work..."

"I know." Germany sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "One day we won't remember. And, as much as it hurts, we don't want to forget. Because if we forget, that means our people have forgotten. And they should never forget. If they forget, it can happen again."

"It still hurts, though."

"It does. But we can't change anything."

"Vater? I had a bad dream..." Lukas stumbled into Prussia's room sleepily, dragging his blanket and rubbing his eyes. All three dogs followed him, forming a pack that moved with him. "Vati, why are you crying?"

Germany picked up the little boy and set him on the bed next to them. Prussia grabbed Berlin and pulled him close, smiling through his tears.

Lukas curled up closer and closed his eyes, content as long as he had his Vati and Vater. "Night-night, Vati."

Both of them were fast asleep in seconds, Gilbert still crying in his sleep. Germany's dogs, all of whom loved Prussia, climbed onto the bed as well, surrounding the albino nation sleeping curled around his capital.

Prussia had a death grip on the little boy. Ludwig looked down at them for a moment, then did something he didn't often do; he pulled off his shoes, crawled over his brother, and flopped down next to him.

"Gut nacht, bruder," he whispered."Gut nacht, Lukas."

Soon, all three of them were fast asleep, and the wall was nothing but a painful memory.

O-oOo-O

Fifty-three years ago today, the Berlin Wall was started, separating families and friends from each other. Breaking a country in two. Don't let it happen again. Don't forget.

German:

Vati: Daddy

Vater: Father

Gut: good

Gut nacht: good night

Was: what

Bruder: brother