The small cell Gilbert was in was dark, cold, wet, and unfamiliar. He felt cold metal shackles digging into the tender skin of his wrists; blood slowly ran down his pale dirt covered arms. Water dripped from a broken water pipe somewhere in the small room drip-drip-drip-drip-CREAK! The Prussian Nation winced at the sound and tried to back farther against the wall, the metal tearing into his skin making him hiss in pain as more blood flowed down his arms; making the pale white turn a dark crimson, the same color as his eyes.

His bare feet couldn't find purchase on the slippery stone floor and he slipped, his back hitting the jagged stone wall. As he slowly slide down the shackles caught at his wrist bones and left him somewhat suspended above the floor, the wall digging deep gashes into his back; blood flowed from the gashes in his back freely and dripped onto the floor, soaking his tattered uniform in more blood. Despite the searing pain in his back and wrists he looked up, his head resting against the jagged wall, and moved his wrists a little to see where the shackles were bolted in the wall. It was too dark to see where, but he felt more of his blood roll down his arms and onto his chest; following the curve of his body, over his ribs and abs and stinging other open wounds across his chest.

Gilbert gave up struggling and allowed himself to hang there, his head bowed in defeat and fatigue. His breathing was shallow as he tried to will himself to sleep, considering there was nothing else to do in his dark cell. Unfortunately sleep never came and he was stuck staring into the darkness, pain thrumming through his whole being. His arms lost feeling after awhile of being chained above his head and the Prussian figured he could account for all the injuries he knew he had.

One, ripped up wrists.

Two, a broken rib and several cracked.

Three, gashes from the rocks and whip marks in his back.

Four, twisted; possibly broken, ankle.

Five, whip marks across his chest.

Six, a black eye.

Seven, a gash next to said black eye.

Eight, wounds in both feet.

Nine… No that was all, none of them good, but there was nothing else that he could find at this moment. He shook his head to clear the pained hazy that started to make everything fuzzy and felt pain flair in his right shoulder and near his left hip bone, blinking his blurry red eyes he noticed a round hole near his hip and his heart beat began to beat faster. He shifted a little, ignored the pained protest his wrists gave and felt something metal in the hole. So, nine, two bullet holes with the bullets still lodged in his muscles. He wanted to scream, whether it was in pain or in anger or both, but for all he was worth he couldn't scream. He had lifted his head to cry out and nothing escaped his lips, in fact his throat flared with pain and he was thrown into a coughing fit. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he coughed and he turned his head to spit it on the stone floor of his cell. His stomach lurched painfully and he folded his legs under himself the best he could, the floor tearing more rips into the material of his uniform.

He willed himself not to throw up; he already knew there was nothing in his stomach to be thrown up. Although the absolute pain he was in made him feel nauseous, and the acid from his stomach would only burn his throat more than it already was. Despite everything he tried he couldn't help it and he ended up emptying his already empty stomach, the acid burning his raw throat. The burning brought on another coughing attack and blood filled his mouth, forcing him to spit it out. The Prussian wondered when this would all just end, after all the Allies had given him over to the Russian willingly. Red eyes closed as he tried to forget that trick of a meeting. They had used Mattie is such a wrong way. Tears slipped past closed eyes and left clean streaks in his dirt and blood covered face. He didn't want to remember, not that, not how he had been tricked, not how he had ended up in his hellhole of a Russian prison. No matter how many times he shook his head and tried to fight off the memories they still came and tears ran down faster.

"Hahaha, dudes, we so got this in the bag!" America had cheered as he stood behind the albino, whose face was drawn into a snarl, quickly he had his sword drawn and turned around, the blade cutting across the American's chest. America fell back and had a hand over the deep gash, blood seeping through his uniform.

Too quick from the Prussian to catch he was forced against a wall by England, a gun pressed to his chest as his sword clattered to the ground. Red eyes meet emerald green and France pulled the Brit away from the albino, but the blues eyes of the French Nation never met his. Betrayal flooded Prussia's veins and he turned to leave the conversance room, only to be stopped by the Russian Nation. His large hand grabbing the shorter Nation's shoulder and jerking him back into the room. America laughed at the display and shooed his brother away. Canada kept his gaze to the floor, he hated the feeling of regret flooding through his veins as he watched Russia lift Prussia up and over his shoulder, the Prussian yelling out cursing in his native tongue as he kicked and punched the Russian. Fed up with the unwillingness from the younger Nation Russia lifted him up higher and dropped him to the floor. Prussia hit the floor with a loud thud and Canada looked away.

Prussia felt the breath leave his lungs the second his back hit the floor, when he tried to breathe he felt a large boot press down on his ribs; cracking a few of his ribs as he tried to fight back. Russia leaned down and punched the albino in the face, his right eye immediately blackening at the force. With the lack of air the Prussian relaxed completely and allowed himself to be lifted back up as the Russian tossed him back over his shoulder. The last thing Prussia saw was France and England helping America stop the bleeding and Canada fighting back tears as his amethyst eyes watched the red eyed Nation be carried away for whatever hell awaited him.

Scarlet eyes snapped open when he felt a cold pipe slam across his already bruised chest and cracked ribs, a pained gasp escaped his throat; making him cough again until he had to spit out the blood that filled his mouth. Gilbert didn't bother to raise his head to see his assailant, but he did blink a few times to adjust to the bright light that filled his once dark cell. He saw the black boots and tan pants of the Russian's uniform and laughed a little bitterly and breathlessly. "Finally gonna kill me?" He asked, his voice was almost not there and sounded raspy as if all he had done the night before was scream.

Ivan laughed in a happy manner and swung the rusty faucet pipe, it connected solidly with the Prussian's side. Another pained gasp and the sound of cracking bones floated into the Russian's ears. Although since no scream followed the larger Nation's smiled turned into a small frown and he reached down to force the younger to look at him. Red eyes meet purple and Gilbert spit in Ivan's face, spit and blood splattered across his pale face. "I liked you better when you screamed." He said slapping the other Nation across the face, leaving a bright red hand print that could be seen despite the dried blood and dirt that covered Gilbert's skin. "You will scream, da?" He asked and gained a glare from Gilbert after he spit out the blood that once again filled his mouth, leaving the nasty metallic taste on his tongue.

Gilbert said nothing and let his head hang down so he was looking at the ground again, his wrists stinging when he moved his hands in the shackles that kept him chained to the wall. His uniform was ruined, the dark blue cape had been taken from him before he was thrown in here and the shirt and pants were ripped and torn to practical shreds from the endless beatings he had been getting from Ivan since the Allies had given him over to the crazy Russian. He gritted his teeth when Ivan slammed the pipe against his chest, damaging the bones of his ribs and bruising his skin and the muscles beneath it; a gasp leaving his lips as the pipe smacked him across the head, causing an instant headache as blood slowly ran down his face from the new gash on his forehead; blurring his vision slightly when he lifted his head to look up.

The Russian's smile was back and he pulled the pipe back, bring it back down on the other's shoulder. There was loud pop followed by a pained scream of agony that had ripped its way from Gilbert's raw throat. His back had arched away from the jagged wall and slammed back, the edges digging into his back causing him to give a grunt of pain. The shackles dug further into the tender flesh around his wrists when his legs gave out and he hung there almost as if he was dead. The regular sense of breath had left the Prussian's lungs after the blow across his chest and he was in between panting and breathing shallowly. He watched through blurry eyes as Ivan spun the pipe in his fingers with ease before letting it fall to the floor with a clattered sound on the stone. The taller Nation closed the distance between them and tangled one hand in the albino's matted white hair, he jerked it back sharply and forced Gilbert to meet his eyes; the Prussian's head hitting the jagged wall with a painful thud.

The younger Nation gritted his teeth against the pain and forced himself not to scream as he glared into the eyes of his captor. Ivan smiled kindly and used his other hand to wipe away some of the blood away from Gilbert's face, causing him to flinch away from the feeling and groan in pain when the hand in his hair pulled back tighter. "I'm not entirely heartless, da?" Ivan said softly as his other hand found one of the bullet holes and jammed two fingers in to retrieve the bullet. Another agony filled scream ripped its way from his raw throat, making him almost choke on his own blood. The Russian released his hold on the Prussian's hair and let Gilbert drop his head again, spitting the blood from his mouth and panting trying to think past the pain. "Some of the Allies are coming over tonight and you will look clean." He said in the same soft tone as he dropped the first bullet to the floor. "When I let you out of these shackles, Lithuania will show you to the bathroom and give you some new clothes." He explained and jammed two fingers into the bullet wound on his shoulder, digging the bullet out and loving the scream of pain and agony that filled his ears as he ripped the metallic bullet out and dropped it to the floor.

Gilbert was thrown into another coughing fit and he let the blood trickle slowly from the corner of his mouth as he nodded meekly in obedience. Ivan smiled and easily unlocked the shackles, letting the albino fall to his face as his legs gave out and his arms were too numb to hold his weight up. He laid on the floor for what seemed like hours, his chest heaving in an attempt to bring oxygen into his body. Slowly he found some strength in his arms and pushed himself to his knees shakily, coughing again at the effort, he tried to spit it out and only managed to get some of it out as it fell dripped from his bruised lips onto the floor. Growing impatient Ivan grabbed the back of what was left of the Prussian's shirt and hauled him to his feet. Gilbert stumbled and had no choice but to grab a hold of Ivan's arm to stay standing as his legs shook under his own weight.

Another person came into the room after Ivan gave off a sharp whistle, that caused Gilbert to flinch at the sound and the shorter Nation took the weak Prussian Nation into his own arms, stumbling back slightly under the added practical dead weight. Ivan rolled his eyes in annoyance and lifted the Prussian up and over his shoulder with one hand, pushing past the smaller trembling Nation as he walked out into the brightly lite hallway. Gilbert gasped at the light and closed his eyes, his body fully limp as the Russian walked quickly to the nearest washroom, although he heard a female voice gasp in shock at his appearance and soon she was following the taller Russian; her heels clicking against the stone floor as she caught up to the sliver haired Nation. "Big Brother?" Gilbert groaned when he realized it was Natalia, to be honest he was surprised that Ivan hadn't allowed the female Nation join in the beatings. After all, it could be a family pastime… Well save for their older sister. Ivan grunted some response as he paused in front of a wooden door, lifting Gilbert off his shoulder without care and forcing him to stand. The Prussian leaned heavily against the wall, glad to have something solid to hold onto. "Why is he out of his cell?" She asked tilting her head to the side slightly as her ice blue eyes scanned the damaged Nation watching her wearily through one eye.

"The other Allies are coming by and wish to see him." Ivan said, vague on who was coming or if all of the Allies were showing up. "But I'm glad you found me, for once, I need you to fetch me some new clothes for him. I can't have him looking the way he does in front of the others." He explained turning his younger sister around and pushing her in the direction that Latvia was walking when he practically ran past the three of them. Purple eyes looked back to Gilbert and surveyed the younger Nation, noticing he was slowly getting some strength back in his legs. "You can bathe yourself." Ivan said gruffly and pushed the albino into the bathroom, letting him stumble and grab a hold of the sink before the door slammed shut and Gilbert was left in a windowless room.

Pain flared through Gilbert's whole body at the harsh treatment, not that that should be new and he carefully looked up into the single mirror hanging over the sink. He flinched when he saw himself; two gashes over his eyes, a black eye and dirt and blood stained his once pale white skin. He also saw the bullet hole in his shoulder and put on hand over it, pressing down and jerking that shoulder forward popping it back into place; causing him to stifle a scream at the agony that shot down his arm and across his collar bone. The door behind him opened again, only this time Toris stepped in and set down several medical supplies and a change of clothes that had been shoved into his hands by a seething Natalia.

The Lithuanian nodded politely and walked over to the shower, turning it on, and his quiet steps stopping behind the Prussian. A frown adored his features as he took into account all the stitches the other was going to need. Without a word the Baltic Nation reached up and ripped off the remains of Gilbert's shirt, pale skin looked almost like snow compared to the dirt, blood, and grim that covered the rest of his body. Gilbert hissed in pain at the feeling of the material tearing away from his skin and glared down at the other Nation when Toris did the same to the tattered pants he wore. He stood up and gently took hold of one of the Prussian's arm, guiding him to the shower. Neither of them said anything as Gilbert stepped into the hot water; he jumped back slightly and braced a hand against the tilted wall as the water barely hit his sensitive skin. There was a sigh outside the curtain and Gilbert saw Toris run a hand through his hair. "No matter what you think or feel Mr. Russia will only beat you more if you don't shower so that I can stitch you up and you can have dinner with him and the other Allies." It was said with practiced patience and Gilbert decided to listen to the soft spoken Nation.

He hissed at the feeling as the water pounded down on his skin, rinsing away everything that covered his pale skin and making the white floor of the shower turn a dirty brown. He gritted his teeth against the stinging all of the gashes and wounds gave at the feeling of water and soap running down his naked body. After several minutes of just letting the warm water run down his body, now that he was used to the numbing sting that swam through his veins, he stepped out and was given a towel to wrap around his waist as Toris sat him down on the toilet, a needle and clear string laced through it in his hand. "This may hurt a bit." He said honestly and started with the two gashes on his head, one at his temple and the other just over his eye. Gilbert squired a little as the needle first broke into his flesh, but quickly calmed down and took small comfort in the fact that the Lithuanian was trying to be kind and not hurt him. Although when Toris made it to the first bullet hole he grunted in pain and bit his lip to keep from sounding weaker than he already did.

Within minutes all the wounds on his front were addressed and covered in gauze, a black eye patch was laid carefully over his blackened eye and the black string stood out against his now bright white hair. Toris made a motion with his hand and Gilbert stood up and turned around, his hands curling around the sink as the other started the stitches on his back. This hurt more, but the Prussian noticed the other was only doing the deepest gashes and was simply putting some kind of lotion over the more shallow wounds. He heard the small chime of the needle being placed on the counter and soon felt fabric gauze being wrapped around his chest. The color of the gauze seemed to match his skin color, but was soon covered when Toris handed him a white button up shirt and black slacks with white boxers. "Mr. Russia wants you in the hall within a few minutes." He said simply and left the bathroom, taking the medical supplies with him.

Gilbert unsteadily slipped into the boxers and the slacks and easily pulled the white shirt on over his bandaged covered chest. Quick fingers slipped the buttons into their holes and he ran his hands through his hair a few times, avoiding the string that held the eye patch over his eye. One red eye looked himself over in the mirror and he had to say he did look better, despite everything he had been through and with the cover over his eye he looked almost normal; healthy even. He laughed a little bitterly and knew that was a lie, but he did look better than when he first entered the bathroom. The Prussian pulled the door open before Ivan got the chance to knock on the door, his heart racing as he looked up at the Russian. Ivan looked down at him with a smile on his face, his purple eyes scanning the once badly damaged Nation. "Doing better, da?" He asked reaching one hand out for the younger to take. The Prussian crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his one good eye at the older. "Any further noncompliance and you'll be back in your cell instead of a regular room I'm willing to offer." Ivan said glaring down at the other Nation as he grabbed his arm and jerked him forward unkindly.

The Prussian stumbled and soon re-found his footing and walked behind the taller Nation, his arm interlocked with Ivan's. They walked quickly until the Russian stopped at the top of the grand staircase Gilbert barely remembered being carried up when he first got here three weeks ago. He noticed several other Nation's walking around in the lobby talking to one another and not noticing the two standing at the top. Ivan cleared his throat and the other's looked up, some gasped and other frowned at the clean and healthy looking Prussian standing next to the Russian Nation. Gilbert saw Francis and Matthew first and then Alfred and Arthur, along with Wang. All of the Allies, every single one that had tricked him. He had expected it from four of them, but Francis and Matthew were a surprise. In seconds the two French speaking Nations looked down and away from the Prussian.

"I thought you said he was beaten badly!" Alfred called up the stairs and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a child that hadn't gotten what they wanted for Christmas. Arthur rolled his eyes and smacked the American on the back of the head and told him to be quite in a hushed voice.

Ivan smiled again and started the decent down the stairs, letting go of Gilbert's arm and motioned him to follow. Gilbert did as asked and huffed under his breath in his native language when his bare feet touched the cold marble of the stairs. "He was." He said kindly gesturing to the eye patch covering one of Gilbert's scarlet red eyes. "I had Toris clean and fix him up a bit before you all came over. I figured we could do without seeing one of our own bloody like our streets and cities once were, da?" Ivan asked his boot covered feet making a quiet thud when they stepped over the last step; Gilbert stopped and stood behind the Russian one step above him.

The American muttered something under his breath and walked a little away, to stop and stand next to his brother; who was still looking down at the marble floor, unable to bring himself to look up and see the Prussian. "Thank you for considering that, Ivan." Matthew said quietly and allowed himself to look up and make eye contact with the other purple eyed Nation. Ivan nodded and reached behind him to pull Gilbert down to his level.

"Now, shall we go to dinner?" He asked and guided everyone into the large dining room he had set up for all of them. Wang and Arthur followed right behind the Russian, while Alfred hung back a little to talk to Francis and Matthew took to walking next to Gilbert. Amethyst eyes glanced at the albino and he felt his heart drop when he noticed some of the many stitches the older had. Matthew reached a hand to stop the Prussian from walking into the room ahead of him, but saw the older Nation stiffen and walk a little faster. The Canadian felt like his heart was breaking and he knew it was his own fault for giving Gilbert over to Ivan, but he hadn't had much choice at the time. Now he just wished he could change what had happened.

Gilbert felt guilt flood his veins when he saw Matthew's eyes dull instantly at being denied and turned on his heel quickly, pulling the younger into a quick yet loving kiss before turning back and walking into the dining room; taking a seat next to Ivan when the Russian waved him over. He didn't have much choice in listening, not listening meant getting beat, where as listening meant getting food and regular bed to sleep in each night. The Prussian would take his chances on listening to the crazy Russian, no matter how long it took him to get the strength back to escape.