"He's pulling his weapon to his side
Loading it full of his goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line"
-Linkin Park, Across the Line

For some odd reason that no one would be able to explain, Ludwig thought that this girl that he was holding at gun point looked oddly familiar. There was no way that he knew here though, no there was no way that the two of them had ever met before in their lives. Nothing about her was familiar. Not that greasy black hair, not that pale, scared face, not those tattered clothes, absolutely nothing. But as his stern eyes took in the sight of her frozen ice blue ones, he felt as if this girl was someone he had known. He wetted his chapped lips as he kept his gun steady, his thoughts racing. He had never hesitated to shoot someone before in his life, he was too trained for that, too smart, but those eyes… those dead, wide blue eyes looked so soul-piercingly familiar, as if… as if he had stared into them before. He wasn't comfortable in this situation; he wanted it over with badly.

But why couldn't he pull the trigger?

Every time he tried to, it was like something was stopping him. Something said that this girl was different, that by killing her he would be committing a sin, a great one that could damn him more than he already was. Was it the fact that she was so young? Perhaps, perhaps that was it, maybe Ludwig didn't want to kill a child. But that wouldn't be an excuse to his higher-ups, to his fellow soldiers, to his brother. The thought of his brother made his stomach twist with mixed emotions. His brother was the reason he was here now, he knew why though; he knew why he agreed to kill people for the communist side though he was against it.

Gilbert had a foolproof plan, that's why he was here and why he had to kill this child.
The girl's eyes never left his, he could see the small handgun sticking out of the holster she wore, her heavy breathing making it ride up and down. She was too smart to even try and reach for it, Ludwig could tell she wasn't a novice when it came to these things. The boy he had shot, the one with blond hair and terrified eyes, was still on the floor, breathing in terrified, pain filled breaths as he watched this scene unfold. He also was not stupid enough to reach for a gun; his movements would be too noticeable and clumsy. And yet Ludwig had to kill them both.

His fingers began to pull the trigger as he looked into those wide, now scared, blue eyes. Those eyes… he couldn't… He stopped and cursed mentally. He had a feeling that deep down inside that this girl was important, that she alone had the power to do something, hopefully something good. A sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his gun and gruffed out a quick "go".

This was very out of character for him so he found his temper going as she just sat there and stared at him, as if she were too dumb to understand.

"Go," he said in more of a growl. "If you do not vant to be shot, leave now." He still held his gun tightly in his hands.

The girl nodded and stood up, watching him like a hawk as she began to help up the blond who whimpered and hissed as he struggled to get to his unsteady feet. Ludwig watched as she held him up, and softly muttered to him.

"Thank you sir," she whispered to Ludwig in a tiny yet firm voice that made his blood run cold. "I will never forget this." And at that she pulled the blond away, one eyes looking over her shoulder to make sure Ludwig was speaking with honesty. He watched her trudge through the back, until she eventually disappeared behind the tents, her wounded friend with her.

Ludwig sighed as one thought rung in his mind. He had just spared someone, something he had never done. And, as he wiped away footprints in the dust, a thousand small voices in his head chided him that he would be doing the world a favor if he had just killed that girl.

A bigger favor than it deserved.

There's something odd and amazing about believing that death was going to claim you and suddenly discovering that you had been spared. Eliza had been marveling over the sensation for awhile, wondering why the German had spared her. Perhaps it was due to stereotypes, but she had been certain that he was going to kill both her and Matthew. But he didn't… he had let them both walk away alive.

They had returned to their hideout, postponing the move until Matthew recovered. Eliza and Matthew had been able to meet up with the others and bring the supplies with them. The raid had been, despite Matthew getting shot, a success and now Eliza was sitting outside the hideout, hair blowing around her as Matthew was having that bullet removed from his body by Alissa (who had turned out to be a rather good medic, which had surprised them all). The sounds of the wet sound of flesh being dug through and the smell of blood had given Eliza a headache so she left, leaving Alissa to her work and Alfred squeezing his brother's hand the entire time, his brow scrunched up nervously, worried about his brother due to the fact they had nothing to numb the pain.

Mail was outside with Eliza too, but he was out to inhale the smoke from a cigarette, treasuring the feeling of it coursing through his lungs. Mail was a smoker, which much they all knew, and he always managed to stock up on cigarettes rather they are from enemy camps or the bodies of enemy soldiers. During the raid he had grabbed as many packs as he could, almost tripping over a few boots and sleeping Italian soldiers, but he had managed to retrieve them and Mihael and Alissa had managed to find some chocolate as well. Eliza wouldn't doubt that Alissa was working on Matthew with a bar of chocolate sticking out of her mouth.

"Hey, Mail," Eliza called to the boy who took another drag from his cancer stick. He grunted to show that he was listening.

"Those things are going to be the death of you, ya know," she chided him.
The boy with the orange goggles looked over to her and shrugged. "Well if I survive this war I'll probably be too traumatized to want to live any longer so cancer should do the trick." Eliza rolled her eyes.

"That logic makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense but," he looked up the sky, "smoking won't be the death of me, promise." He smiled a bit.

"What makes you say that?"

Mail shrugged. "My dad said, well, before he died, that a girl was going to be the death of me."

Eliza laughed drily. "Seriously? This is war, Mail. Out here we don't fall in love, out here we die." She felt bad for saying such things but she felt compelled to speak the bitter honesty. Mail looked at her briefly.

"I guess… but what if we do fall in love?"

She blushed lightly. "W-we? Like me and you?"

"No, I mean all of us are a family… I mean… Mihael's my best friend… Alfred's like my big brother… Matthew is too… Alissa's like a sister… and you…" his voice quieted. "You're like the girl in school that you just want to hug and never let go…"
Eliza blushed and looked at him, only to see him stomping out his cigarette and heading back inside.

Perhaps… we could fall in love out here…

But love is war, a cold, merciless war that spares nothing.

"Gilbert!" A Hungarian woman swung her frying pan at the albino who was in her kitchen and who had just tried grabbing at her sensitive areas. The albino ducked out of the way, trying to avoid the woman's rage. He grabbed her arm and stared into her green eyes.

"C'mon, Elizaveta," the albino said, a slightly amused smirk on his lips. "calm down, I vas joking." He stated that innocently.

Elizaveta just glared at him. "Gilbert you know I'm with Roderich," she broke out of his grip and crossed her slender arms. "Just because he's fighting in the war doesn't mean he no longer exists."

Gilbert sighed and sat down on the edge of her kitchen counter, which she frowned at.

Gilbert and Elizaveta were both in high position in the military, Elizaveta, however was on the Democratic side of the fight while Gilbert was communist, or so they thought. Gilbert was secretly meeting up with Miss. Héderváry to discuss some important things and plans for the war. Gilbert, however, had gotten a little side tracked and changed his goal from leaking information to getting his hands on Elizaveta's body, but his advances were not met kindly. The brunette woman was currently dating an Austrian soldier who had been drafted into one of the armies Gilbert had influence over in America, the same squad his little brother was in.

"I still can't believe your idiot plan on invading America actually worked," she huffed, her green eyes staring into Gilbert's red ones intensely. "You were just as shocked." She was judging him and he didn't like it.

"But it did vork," he defended himself, glaring at her. "Most of the troops are still alive, zhose Americans are veak anyvay." He shrugged..

"But you thought it was suicide at first, we all did," she wasn't letting this go, and Gilbert was wondering what she was getting at.

"Vhat are you trying to say?"

Elizaveta sighed. "You sent Roderich to America for that reason." Her eyes were now cold, green waters that wanted to drown him. "I was thinking it was weird that you sent him to America and now I figured it out, you want him dead, you always have."
Gilbert turned away from her judging gaze and snarled. "You know I'm doing zhis for zhe greater good, you know zhis, Elizaveta. Roderich, you and I have been friends for zhe longest time! Vhy vould I vant to have him killed?"

Elizaveta didn't answer, she just merely lowered her voice. "Then tell me one thing… if you thought it was a suicide mission why did you send your bruder there to fight…?"

Gilbert fell silent.

And for the first time in many years Gilbert didn't know what to say.