Hi everyone!

So here it is, the epilogue story to Cross Your Heart and Hope to Die.

First off, a few things worth mentioning:
1: Note that this is the epilogue to my previous stories, Cross Your Heart and Hope to Die. I do not advise reading this without having read those two, because chances are, it won't make sense.
2: Other than a more general epilogue, this will actually be a Multi-chapter story like its predecessors. Also, on that note, I will not strive to make long chapters for this like I did before. I'll just write them and end them where it feels natural, and if that's at 2,000 words like this one or at 10,000 words, I don't know, and honestly, I don't really care anymore, either ^~^'
3: There will be OCs as major characters in this. That hasn't been a problem in the past, it seemed, and I hope it won't be now, either, but just a heads-up.

With that out of the way, let me just thank everyone who read CYH&HtD again for their awesome support, and if you came back for this, 'thank you so much for that, too! I hope it will be a worthy epilogue (and if not, it's still a separate story, so you can just treat it as non-canon to the first two books ;) Read it if you like, and if you don't, feel free to ignore it completely)

So yeah, let's get this epilogue started!

It had been just over three years since he'd last been a nation.
Gilbert Beilschmidt kept himself busy with studying these days. He'd started in September 1993, and now, in May 1994, he was nearing the end of his first year. So far, things were going just fine. His grades were high, and he already had the capacities to practice his studies, just not the needed credentials. After all, he'd been working as a field medic during wars since the War of Austrian Succession; he had more experience than any human doctor on the planet.
…He still called them 'humans'. Still referred to humans as 'them'. He had wondered more than once if maybe it was time to accept that he was one of them now, too. He could go by ex-nation for the rest of his life, but he wasn't sure if he wanted that, either.
He was also getting a tad nervous about certain things since his loss of his nation status. Germany had never mentioned any of it, neither had anyone else, but Gilbert was starting to notice that he was, well… aging. He hadn't done that since the early nineteenth century. He had never done it at this speed.
Still, he refused to say he was a human now before he was absolutely certain. He would need more time to come to a solid confusion.

He was in the bathroom, inspecting himself in the mirror to check for any more signs of aging, to make sure he wasn't just overreacting, just anything that could make his life make sense again.
But of course, he wasn't given the time to straighten things in his mind. "Gilbert?" came Germany's voice from somewhere in the house. "I need to take Berlitz out for a walk. Could you do the laundry while I'm away?"
Gilbert stifled a sigh and called back. "Sure, no problem!" He stepped back, took a deep breath, then went downstairs to the basement. Otherwise known as his bedroom. He still had clothes lying around there that had to be washed and that he hadn't bothered to put in the laundry basket. For which Ludwig wouldn't have been happy with me, I suppose, had he done the laundry instead.

By the time the albino ex-nation was finished, Germany was back with his dog, too. It was one of the two only days in the week that the brothers could spend time together for longer than just about two hours, and they generally did try to make the most of that time.
Germany often had meetings in during the week and Gilbert had lectures to attend. If they were home, Germany had paperwork to go through and Gilbert had research to do, papers to write and exams to prepare for. Then there were the things they did in their free time that also kept them apart: Germany would go for an hour-long walk with his dog at least once every two days, aside from the general, shorter walks, he had recently taken to gardening and he did, naturally, have a few contacts that he liked to keep up. Gilbert, similarly, had a small number of good contacts within the university now that he would sometimes stay on campus for, so that they could study together or just hang out. Three people in his year, also studying medicine, who had been on a group project with him early in the year, had taken to spending more time with him, much to his amazement; he wasn't exactly the most-loved person in university, partly because of his albinism, which still managed to freak people out. There was also the so-called 'miracle', Larissa Schultz, who had been the first person to hold a full conversation with him when they'd been forced to share a table at a café.
When she had asked if she could take the free seat at his table, basically the only free one left (the café wasn't that large and it had been teeming with people for a change), Gilbert had felt a little awkward saying yes. This had not gone unnoticed to Larissa, naturally, and she had proceeded to ask what was wrong. The look on her face when he'd said people had a tendency to avoid him had been priceless. Wide-eyed, the young woman had stared at him for a solid minute, followed by an indignant huff and a disbelieving exclamation.
"You've got to be kidding me!" she had burst out, anger and slight confusion edging her voice. "People are that shallow even here?"
Gilbert had managed a laugh then. "I know, right? I'd thought that -and pardon me saying it this bluntly- the intellectually higher-class people would know better than to shun someone over a condition like this. But no, they are the same as anyone else, they just keep quiet about it." He had huffed in mixed annoyance and amusement, then taken a few sips of his coffee before realising a mistake in what he'd said. "Oh, sorry. They don't all keep their mouths shut, either. Some people in my class -I'm doing medicine- have seriously suggested studying me to learn more about albinism."
"Oh, the nerve!" Larissa had snapped angrily, getting tense all over. "I can't stand people like that. I mean, it's not like you can help it! No one can."
While she hadn't been the first person to have said something like that to him, her rant had sounded the most genuine so far. And she also seemed to really not mind talking to him, which was also a nice change of pace.
By then, Gilbert's teammates on the group project still had yet to get used to him, and didn't start treating him as less of an outsider until about two weeks later, so Larissa had been the first person he'd been able to talk to quite like that. When they had met again in the library soon after that first meeting, they had decided to keep in contact more regularly.
Gilbert could only hope there would be more people like her and his three classmates eventually. Without them around, he did sometimes feel isolated. More contacts would be nice.

Only a few minutes had passed before the two brothers were on the couch together, Germany reading a book with Berlitz on the couch beside him and resting his head on the nation's lap. Meanwhile, Gilbert was debating with himself whether to follow his brother's example or turn on the television. There was something he'd been wanting to discuss with his younger brother for some time, but he'd been postponing that conversation for a while. He had a good guess what it could go like, and he wasn't sure he wanted that.
But then, he would have to do it one of these days. And actually, it would be best if he did this sooner rather than later. So before reading or seeing what was on TV, he decided to bring this up first.
"So, uh, Ludwig," he began casually, stammering only once. "I recently got my reading list for next year…"
He didn't get a chance to say any more. As expected, Germany immediately understood where his elder brother was going with this, and he sighed. "How much is it going to be this time?"
Feeling guilty, Gilbert averted his gaze as he replied in a soft voice: "Just… one-hundred. And fifty. Two."
Germany grunted. "Oh, good lord…"
"For the first semester."
"Gilbert, I swear," Germany said, his voice stern. It reminded Gilbert of how Holy Rome sometimes used to sound, and the likeness the two Germanic nations shared only made it worse. Although the look the younger nation gave him was obviously stolen from Austria.
Whoever had inspired this in Germany, he certainly couldn't have got this from Gilbert himself; he'd been stern and correcting with his younger brother in the past, but nothing like this.
Germany had definitely mastered the art of telling off. "At this rate, we're not going to be able to afford your studies," he explained, calm but still in a way that made Gilbert shrink away in shame. "You're not earning money anymore and your books are getting more expensive with every semester."
Gilbert shrugged, unable to deny that. "If we can't afford it now," he dared to suggest after a brief silence, "maybe we can ask the government for a loan…? I will-"
He flinched when Germany barked out a dry laugh at this. "Ask the government for a loan?" he echoed. The stare he gave Gilbert was almost condescending. "Gilbert, you don't seriously think they will buy you books?"
"I would pay them back, of course," Gilbert protested, rolling his eyes. Wasn't that the definition of 'loan'? "I have put eight hundred years of my life into serving the government and my people. And after I graduate, I will serve the people again, in different ways! You'd think I deserved a little help from them by now."
Germany sighed and shook his head. "And you forget that they've done so basically all your life, too," he countered, completely calm once more. "The government pays all our expenses for the work we do for them. They pay for any travelling we do, they pay our rent, they pay for any medical expenses and even our groceries through the salary they give us -or in this case me." He was silent for a moment, perhaps waiting for a response from his brother. When that didn't come, he eventually decided: "Look, you can try. Of course you can. And maybe you're right and they will help out. And of course we will pay for those books as much as we can, and honestly, that first semester shouldn't even be a problem. But should we reach a point where it does become too expensive, you will really have to find a way to deal with that yourself. I'm sorry."
Glad that this was over and that it had been as bad as he'd feared it could be, Gilbert nodded. "I know," he said, still a little carefully. "Thanks, Ludwig."
Finances had been a touchy subject for a while now; Germany was the only one with an income nowadays, since Gilbert didn't work for the government anymore. It was true that nations usually got a steady income directly from the government for all the work they did. And as Germany had said, they would also pay for any business-related travelling, and every now and then they would get a paid vacation, too.
They already kept Gilbert in mind by slightly raising Germany's salary. But even so, they had less than two-thirds of the monthly budget they used to have. And more expenses, thanks to higher education being quite expensive.
But the worst part of it all to Gilbert was that his little brother had to provide for him all the time now. He hoped that, once he'd graduated and had a stable career, he could do something for Germany again, too. Although, when he'd said this to his little brother once, the nation had sighed and told him flatly that Gilbert had been the one doing all the work back when Germany had been little. Not only had he been the only one with any income, working hard almost every day to be able to provide for his young brother, he'd also raised a nation whilst doing all that.
Even if it didn't seem to bother Germany much, Gilbert just hated this situation and couldn't wait until he could pay for himself again. But then, that's what he was studying medicine for (well, that, and because he enjoyed it and because he'd been nearing depression before finding something he could spend his days on).
Just be patient, he told himself as he finally turned on the TV to watch the news, which would start in a few minutes. Just finish your studies, and then you'll have your life back on track.

Mister Beilschmidt,

In response to your request to establish 'Nation Biology' as a new field of study, we have hereby decided to grant you permission to do research for this starting your second year. You will still be expected to follow several courses, listed below.
If you cannot provide the university with proof that you're making progress in your research within 18 months after starting, we will ask you to resume your studies following the regular curriculum.

Gilbert didn't read any further and put the letter back in his drawer. Eighteen months to prove Nation Biology was worth being its own field of study, starting next September. It might turn out easier than he feared it would be, but perhaps he wouldn't make it within that time. After all, it was already a proven fact that nations' bodies worked differently from humans'. He would have to do much more than that if he wanted it all to work out.
With a sigh, he turned and looked at the painting of his family that was above his desk. "I'll prove it to them, I swear," he promised them. "I'll prove to them all that nations aren't just superhuman people. We're a species of our own."
We.
Here we go again…
Gilbert shook his head and took a deep breath. "You're not a nation anymore," he told himself. "You haven't been a nation for a few years now. Shut up with your stupid 'we, nations'. Being stuck in the past like that doesn't help your awesomeness."
But sometimes he thought he would never get used to it…

I am so bad at writing official-sounding stuff, I swear... I'm not satisfied with how it came out, and I struggled even to get this far.
One of these days I will need to work on that.

Anyways, this takes place a few months after the end of HtD, so in early 1994, as stated at the beginning of the chapter. I've got plans for Gilbert until 2000 at this point, maybe more will pop up along the way, who knows. But either way, there's enough material in my head to write a couple of chapters still.
(That is seriously the only reason I'm writing this thing. It just won't get out of my head if I don't write it down. Gilbert apparently finds himself too awesome to leave me alone just yet, and has decided to continue being my muse like he has been for a few years now. Pesky little character, that man...)

It's not driving me nuts at all, no, of course not. (I actually love it, but I even based my MC for an original book on my interpretation of Gilbert because on-the-edge, unstable, somehow lovable jerk is the only person I seem able to write at the moment... Help me.)

Eh... Anyway... I hope you liked this so far, and thanks for reading!