Chapter Four
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
1961
Alfred had come to Berlin to relax, to look at the wall and to give Ludwig some support. The wall was an ugly scar in a once beautiful city. Alfred had been there a couple of times before, he had seen it when the kings of Prussia called it their capitol and when swatizitcas hung from every window at the Olympic Games. He had seen the good and the bad of this city and though he did not know it like Gilbert or Ludwig did, did not love it the way they did, he still enjoyed being there. "Ludwig seems sad every time he sees it, he won't talk about it. I think he misses his people on the other side, misses Gilbert." Feliciano said as he and Alfred cooked dinner at Ludwig's apartment in Berlin, the blond mentioned was out walking his dogs.
"I think he'll be okay." Alfred said,
"And what about you and Ivan ~ve?" Feliciano asked as he stirred the soup the two were making. Alfred gave the Italian a funny look, what did Ivan have to do with Ludwig? "I am not stupid, Alfred, Ivan doesn't want Alaska for no reason. There a few things on this Earth that he is willing to go so far for and one is family. Peter is his son." Alfred closed his eyes and nodded.
"Peter is our son, he is good and kind and smart and handsome, he is the best of both of us and I am terrified of what Ivan will turn him into if he ever got a hold of him. I have seen the looks in the eyes of Toris and Katyusha and Elizaveth, I have seen the horrors he is capable of and I won't let him touch my son." Alfred said.
"Ve~ I've always wanted kids, but they're so rare." Feliciano gushed, "You are extremely lucky you know." The Italian seemed to skip around the kitchen as he spoke, gathering spices and flavors for the soup the two were making. Alfred smiled absentmindedly as he thought about his son, he knew that he was lucky to have Peter, Petya, Arthur had been one of the first to mention how rare pregnant countries were. "When I was a child, there were many children countries, but my brother and I were two of the youngest, and Ludwig, but he doesn't remember that time." Feliciano sighed as he shook the bottle of rosemary into the soup. "I've never told him that we knew each other as children."
"Why not?" Alfred asked as he chopped up some carrots to put in the pot on the stove.
"He would never remember, he took a severe blow to the head during the Napoleonic wars and stopped being the Holy Roman Empire. It broke my heart you know." Felicano looked over at Alfred, there was sadness in the Italian's big brown eyes that Alfred had never seen before. Usually, the Italian was happy, and acted as if there was nothing in the world that could shake his good mood. But obviously there was. "But then I met him again, and I realized that he wasn't really all that different." There was a faint hearted smile on the Italian's face, one that wasn't quite big enough for him. But Alfred decided not to comment on that, there were days, he knew, where his smile wasn't quite wide enough to fool people, but he preferred to think that no one noticed it.
Silence drifted over the kitchen except for the sounds of Alfred's knife slicing the vegetables to put into the broth and cook. Most people assumed that the American ate hamburgers all the time, many of his people enjoyed the benefits of fast food, and though Alfred really, really liked hamburgers, eating the same thing every day got boring. Plus Peter didn't really like fast food; it upset his stomach or something. Alfred really wasn't quite sure; he had never taken his son to a doctor, too many questions that would have to go unanswered and all that. But Alfred actually was a very good cook, and his country was known for its chefs despite rumors that his people lacked fine pallets and all that crap. He had been accused of being a back water nation since his foundation. He had grown a rather thick skin to all the criticism. "Feliciano, do you know anything about a nation's heart?"
The Italian cocked his head and looked out of the kitchen window as if in thought. "My Nonno told me one time that a nation's heart is what connects us to our people, its what makes us feel their pain. What makes us empathize with them, and want to protect them." The Italian smiled. "Why?"
"No reason," Alfred said waving his hand dismissively, "Are you ready to put the onions in yet?" Feliciano nodded, thoroughly distracted from Alfred's question by the task of cooking. Alfred's mind on the other hand was racing; if what Toris said in his letter was true then Ivan could be in trouble. But how would Ivan have lost his heart in the first place, did he willingly remove it or did someone or something remove it for whatever reason?
"Alfred?" Feliciano asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No," Alfred shook his head quickly, "Sorry, just thinking." What would happen if Ivan never regained his heart? Would he never get his lover back? Would the Cold War never end? No, no the Cold War would end, it would end in one of them dying. So that was it then, kill or be killed? There had to be something he could do, but there was almost no way he could find Ivan's heart, it wasn't like he could just waltz into the Soviet Union and start looking for it, especially not if someone in Ivan's government had it. Alfred hated giving up, but it wasn't really giving up if he never started right? Gah! It was so complicated, it made Alfred's head want to explode from the many variables he was trying to work out, the many scenarios that could play out. Trying to predict the unpredictable. He longed for the good ole days, the days where he had no real enemies and he was underestimated as a country. Being on top was not a place that Alfred enjoyed, not when he could look over the edge and see just how far he would fall. Being a king must have been a lonely job back in the day. No one could truly understand the loneliness unless they too had been at the top. Of course being a nation, there were many others that knew the feeling, there had been many rise and fallen empires. Some it had seemed easily fell into decent, usually from collapsing on the inside and it was slow and so the nation had time to react. And others fell so fast it left nations in chaos.
"This is the Beilschmidt resident," Feliciano said into the phone, in his impeccable German, most countries could speak the languages of the surrounding countries as well as languages spoken within their own. "I see," the Italian said switching to English and then put his hand over the receiver and turned to Alfred. "It's for you and it sounds urgent."
"I tell them I'm going on a freaken vacation and I still can't get a break." Alfred complained grabbing the phone from Feliciano. "This is Alfred F. Jones,"
"Mr. Jones, there's been an incident at the wall." A male voice said through the phone,
"The wall?" Alfred asked uncertain about who he was talking to and what they were talking about. Was this one of his spies and this their code words? He couldn't remember ever setting those words though as tip offs.
"Yes sir, the Berlin Wall. Soviet officials tried to stop one of our diplomats at the wall when they tried to cross into East Germany." The man on the other side of the phone said. Oh, well at least it wasn't one of his spies trying to contact him.
"I understand, do you need me to come down to the headquarters?"
"No, I was just told to inform you." Alfred let out a sigh of relief; he would have really been ticked if he had to interrupt his vacation for that craziness. Feliciano looked concerned beside him but Alfred didn't say anything to him, he'd explain later.
"Well, I'll talk to you at another time then." Alfred said after a period of awkward silence between him and the other person on the phone.
"Uh, yeah, that sounds about right." The other guy said, and then Alfred heard that annoying dial tone sound that told him that the other party had hung up the phone. With a sigh he turned back to the food they were cooking. He had an ominous feeling now in his gut, something was going to happen soon and his only hope was that the nukes wouldn't start flying.
Feliciano was back to stirring the soup making small "ve~" noises as he did so. He seemed to be in deep thought and Alfred decided to just let him continue to do what it was he was doing and headed upstairs to the guest bedroom he was staying in to make a phone call. It had been Ludwig that had suggested that Alfred take a vacation, telling him that if he worked too hard and stressed too hard over Ivan that he would only go in circles and that vacations were good for him. Apparently Germans loved to take vacations, and Alfred had thought they were all workaholics like Ludwig. "Hey Al, wasn't expecting to hear from you." Matthew said from the other end of the phone. "How's the vacation going?"
"There was an incident earlier today; I guess the Soviets pulled over one of my diplomats trying to cross into East Berlin. I've been assured it's taken care of, but Mattie, I've got one of my feelings." Alfred explained twirling the cord of the phone around his left index finger while he spoke. The Canadian on the other end of the phone said nothing. "Everything's okay on your end correct?"
"Yes, Peter's doing fine, I can see him right now building something out of blocks with Samuel and Rebecca." Matthew replied, Alfred had asked his brother to watch his son in Canada hoping that if the Russian tried to take him again that he would go back to Alfred's DC home where Peter normally lived and not to Ottawa where Matthew lived. Samuel and Rebecca were some of Matthew's providences, Quebec and Ontario to be precise. One of the oldest couples in North America they had been forced to marry by the British Empire and then divorce, but they were still very much in love with each other. In some way Alfred hoped that Peter could see that love really did work through those two and not only see how love had torn Ivan and Alfred apart.
"Okay, thanks, tell Petya I love him." Alfred said,
"I will," Matthew said starting to chuckle, "You sound like an overprotective mother you know that." Alfred paled at his brother's words, there was no way he was turning into Arthur, he was too cool for that.
"Guten Abend, Feli, where's Alfred?" Alfred heard Ludwig say from downstairs and he could hear the sounds of the dogs barking, Petya wanted a dog, he had been asking about one for a while now but Alfred kept putting it off.
"Upstairs I think. He received a phone call a few minutes ago, work stuff I believe." Feliciano responded almost making Alfred believe that he and the Italian hadn't just had a serious conversation a few minutes ago. Maybe Feliciano should try acting out, Alfred was sure he'd probably be a good one.
"I have to go Mattie, its dinner time." He said,
"Okay, talk to you soon." Matthew said as Alfred hung the phone up. Alfred shrugged as he made his way down the stairs to where Ludwig and Feliciano were talking in the kitchen.
"Hey," he said sheepishly,
"Hallo," Ludwig responded, "Did something happen?"
"Just some stupid political shit, a diplomat was pulled trying to cross into East Berlin. I think the situation has difused." Alfred said one thing but the feeling in his gut was telling him another, this situation whatever it was, was not over. Ivan had something planned and it made Alfred all the more happier he had decided for Peter to stay at Matthew's house while he was in Berlin. Ludwig nodded but didn't press the issue, Alfred knew that if it turned into anything bigger Bonn would call him. Despite the fact that Bonn was now the capitol of West Germany, Alfred knew that to Ludwig Berlin would always be home. He could remember having to visit Germany right after the 1848 revolutions when he and Ludwig looked around the same age, now Ludwig looked older and if what Feliciano said was true Ludwig would be a thousand years older than Alfred. But Ludwig had lived in Berlin then, though he had Gilbert taking care of him then.
"Dinner," Feliciano chimed in as he held up the ladle from the soup pot.
"Danke, Feli." Ludwig said giving the Italian a peck on the cheek. Feliciano giggled and shooed the German off of him. Alfred respectfully looked away and tried not to think about the time he and Ivan decided to cook borscht together.
"Don't give me all the credit, Alfred helped too, actually it was his recipe." Ludwig raised an eye brow and looked over at the American.
"Just like my Mama made it." Alfred said in a southern drawl, Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Not Artie, he can't cook." He was still receiving strange looks from his European friends. "Never mind, forget it. It's an American thing."
"Are you okay, Alfred?" Feliciano asked as he scooped out the soup from the pot and into the three bowls from Ludwig's cabinet.
"Yeah, yeah, just worrying about Petya," Alfred explained, "He's with Mattie right now." Feliciano nodded and just continued to dish out dinner.
"Petya?" Ludwig said with a frown, "Sounds Russian."
"It is, it's a term of endearment for someone named Peter, and Peter is the state of Alaska. I thought a Russian nickname was suitable because I bought him from Russia, well the land he represents, I didn't buy Peter, and slavery was outlawed by then." Alfred rambled, he had never owned slaves, he thought it would be hard to explain to them why he never aged. Ludwig just nodded as he grabbed one of the ceramic bowls off the kitchen counter.
"Of course." Ludwig said as they sat down for dinner. "He's the one you brought to the last World Meeting, correct?" Alfred nodded as he sat down across the table from the blond German and Feliciano sat to Ludwig's right. "Is there any particular reason, Ivan is so obsessed with him?" Alfred paled and looked over at Feliciano, if the Italian had realized the truth about Peter, why not Ludwig? His years of secrecy seemed to be wasted now, though really, Alfred reckoned with himself, what was the point of trying to keep Peter a secret, he was an American state so no one could mess with him and Ivan already knew the truth so it wasn't like he was trying to keep it from his ex-lover anymore.
"Peter is vitally important to both of us." Alfred said with a tone that warned the German to drop the questions. He really hated to get nasty but he didn't want to talk about it anymore. His instincts were already going nuts from what happened at the wall today what could the violating of the treaty possibly mean.
"Luddie, have you seen the new line of Ferraris that went on the market a few weeks ago?" Feliciano asked, "They're really cool looking." Dinner took a lighter note after that and Alfred began to feel more relaxed about his vacation.
"I love you sweetie, Daddy will be home in two days." Alfred promised his son as he spoke to him four days later. Nothing major had happened since the incident on the twenty-second; well none that he had gotten calls about. A minor incident that the military had over reacted about. Then why was that feeling not going away?
"I like Uncle Mattie's house," Peter said, "Miss Reb'cca and Sammy are really, really nice, Daddy." Alfred chuckled; he was glad that Peter was enjoying himself, that he did not know of his father's fears.
"Maybe, Uncle Mattie and I can work it out that you can come over there sometime, how does that sound, sweetie?" Alfred said, "Hey is your uncle there?" He sat down on the bed he had been sleeping on while staying with Ludwig and Feliciano, the Italian was getting ready to go back to Rome a few days after Alfred went back to Washington and Ludwig would probably go back to Bonn then, this was kind of a vacation for all of them.
"Uh-hun." Alfred heard the phone shuffling and then his brother's voice.
"Hey, what's up?" Matthew asked, his voice was cheerful, but Alfred could detect a slight edge of worry in his brother's voice that he was trying to cover up.
"Nothing much, have you heard anything from Gilbert recently?"
"Alfred, I've told you Gilbert and I are not going to be another member of your spy-"
"I'm asking because I still feel like Ivan's planning something, something big in Berlin and I wanted to know if Gilbert knew anything. I'm not asking you to spy I just- I just want some heads up okay." Alfred sighed; he didn't want to put his brother in the middle of his mess with Ivan, though in a way Matthew was, geographically at least.
"I- I haven't heard anything from Gilbert." Matthew sounded upset now, so this was what Alfred had been detecting earlier. "I sent my contact a message and they said that he was missing. I don't know what to do, Alfred."
"Ivan's probably has him in Moscow doing dishes for him or something because he's too lazy to do them himself." Alfred said trying to lighten his brother's fears; it was his job after all as Matthew's big brother.
"I know, I know, please Al, be careful over there."
"I will, no one can hurt me. I'm a hero, remember." Al said plastering a huge smile on his face that he wished Matthew could see. But Matthew would know it was fake, he had always been able to tell when Alfred was fake smiling, even when no one else could.
"I know,"
"I'll keep an ear out for Gilbert. Take care of yourself; I'll be over to pick up Peter when I get off the plane."
"I'm sure you will. He's a sweet kid."
"I know, I raised him. Bye Matt."
"Bye Al." and then Alfred hung up the phone relieved to hear his brother and son's voices. They were okay, so why wouldn't this feeling of dread go away? Why did he feel as if something bad was about to happen to him. Maybe he should cut his trip short and go home tomorrow. Yes that was probably for the best, he was needed in Washington and this vacation hadn't been relaxing, well not as much as he probably needed it to be. Guess that meant he should start packing. He looked around the guest room he had been staying at the clothes he had strewn across the room in the five days he had been there.
Alfred was getting ready to leave for the airport the next day when the call came that he was needed at the wall. Whatever Ivan had planned was coming to its finale. Already as Alfred came close to the wall he could see a military blockade that was stopping civilians from coming any closer and then he saw the tanks. They were American but they were facing the wall and on the other side of Checkpoint Charlie, the only place you could cross into East Berlin where the source of the craziness had been the other day, were Soviet tanks. "What's going on? Someone give me the situation now and I'm going to need a direct line to Washington in case anything gets out of hands." Alfred started ordering the minute he got to the base camp a few meters away.
"Ah, Alfred Jones, you're here." Said General Clay, the Special Advisor to West Berlin said coming up to the nation. "We've got about twenty Soviet tanks on the other side of the wall, I believe we are both at an equal distance from the wall."
"Any sign of Russia or East Germany?"
"Yes, Russia was spotted up on the wall here." Clay pointed to a map of Berlin, "We believe he is with Hungary and Poland." Alfred frowned, why was Elizaveth and Feliks here but not Gilbert, it would make more sense that the albino nation be here then two of his neighbors after all this was going on in his domain. What was Ivan up to?
"Sir, we've just received word, the nation of Russia wants to speak to the nation of America alone, on the wall." A solider came in handing Clay a piece of paper.
"Thank you solider," Clay said, and turned to Alfred, "Better go find out what the damned bastard wants." Alfred nodded putting a hand on the holster on his hip and wishing that he still had his M-16 with him. Well at least he wasn't completely defenseless.
Ivan was exactly where Clay had pointed to on the map, and he was waiting. Elizaveth and Feliks though were nowhere in sight but Alfred learned a long time ago that, that didn't mean anything. "Ivan," Alfred spat, "I'm going to assume that there is a real reason you've called me up to the symbol of oppression." That was his name for the Berlin Wall, he was always telling people he only called them as he saw them and he wasn't going to hold any punches back, especially not for Ivan. The Russian only smiled as if something amused him and as much as Alfred tried to brush it off, it pissed him off. Why the hell was the Russian so calm?
"You are so foolish, Alfred." He giggled childishly, and Alfred could see the craziness in Ivan's eyes, he didn't care if he fell just so long as he took the world down with him. The Ivan he loved, the Ivan who was Peter's father, would never have that look in his eyes, just another reminder of how much the mighty could fall. He made a mental note to have someone take him to a mental hospital if he started to get that look in his eyes.
"Maybe I am, but that doesn't explain why you've brought me up here or why there are Soviet tanks in Eastern Germany." Alfred replied back counting to ten before doing so, damn Mattie was rubbing off on him.
"You are foolish to think that dear Petya was safe with Matthew." Alfred felt as if he was about to hurl, he hadn't fooled Ivan at all. Even after all the trouble he had gone to with Abby and Theo to make it seem as if Peter was still in Washington.
"What did you do?" Alfred growled trying to push back the feelings of despair in his chest, the anger for actions that he wasn't even sure had taken place.
"It's not what I've done, it's about what's going to happen." Ivan said, Alfred never saw Feliks coming, he hadn't expected it from a former ally, but he certainly felt Felik's knife go through him as he collapsed onto the Berlin Wall helpless as he watched Ivan walk away and Feliks mouth "I'm sorry" to him. He didn't blame Feliks for stabbing him, he wanted to tell the Pole that, but before he could get the words out the darkness consumed him.
Gilbert hated feeling helpless, hated having to depend on someone else, hated knowing that somewhere out there was Natalia, and she was hurting Mattie. Just the thought of her spilling a single drop of his Canadian blood made Gilbert want to kill her in some of the most painful torture techniques he had learned back in the day. Made him rattle the chains he was bound to, to prevent him from escaping the dungeon he was in. He wasn't sure where in Russia he was but it had to be a castle in order to have a dungeon, an old castle. This place smelt as if it had seen the lives of millions of rats and they had all died down here or something. He tried to push that thought away, not awesome. Not that Gilbert once known as the Awesome Prussia felt all that awesome anymore, being Ivan's slave was not awesome and he didn't like being separated from his brother and Matthew.
The door opened to the dungeon and Gilbert looked up from where he was sitting. When he had first been locked away in the dungeon he had banged on every piece of rock that he could reach trying to do something but now he sat on the floor, it wasn't that he had given up hope or anything, it was just that beating his head against a rock wasn't going to get him anywhere. He was a strategist, even more then his brother, he hadn't been a military with a nation for no reason after all. Natalia stared back him; her cool blue eyes were freaking Gilbert out a little bit. "The master wants you, Gilbert." Master? Gilbert snorted, this bitch was crazy, but everybody knew that.
"He might need to rethink then the whole shackling me to the wall thing." Gilbert held up the chain that confined him to the stone wall behind him. He could see now that it was a mix of gray and brown and covered in things that had been growing for quite some time. He watched as Natalia came over hardly giving him a second glance as she went for the lock by the wall and never saw his hand flying towards her throat.
"What did you do to him?" Gilbert growled holding her up by her throat. He pressed her against the wall and used the hand that wasn't holding her up to grab the knife holster from under her skirts. "What did you do to Matthew?" Her only response was a wicked smile that made Gilbert's blood boil. "Tell me, Natalia! What did you do to Matthew?"
"It seems I've underestimated your determination, Gilbert." Ivan's voice said from right behind him. Gilbert turned to look at the giant of a man and Natalia took her chance to back hand him and he lost the advantage he once had. "No matter, I shall tell you what happened to your precious Matthew Williams."
Gilbert didn't fight as he was lead out of the dungeons; to be honest he was grateful to get out of it. He was lead down some hallways and upstairs to a bedroom where he could hear a child's voice begging for his father, a little fist was banging on the bedroom door. "He will learn that there is no hope for him to see his precious father again." Ivan explained to Gilbert before he opened the bedroom door and pushed Gilbert inside. "You will become one with Russia." Then the door was closed shut.
Gilbert instently recognized the boy in the room with him, even with the tears streaming down his face, he was the child that Alfred had brought to the last World Meeting, the one that had caused yet another fight between the two superpowers. Up close he could see the mixture of the two, he had Ivan's silver hair but Alfred's blue eyes and Alfred's strength as he felt a small fist hit his leg. "Stop, I'm not the enemy here." Gilbert said before bending down to the boy's level. "What's your name?" Wasn't it Peter or something like that?
"Peter," the little boy hiccupped as he rubbed away tears from his eyes, "I want my Daddy."
"I know kiddo, I know." Gilbert said before reaching out to touch the child.
"The scary lady hurt Uncle Mattie," the boy said with wide eyes and he whimpered, "the scary silver made booboos on his face and here." The boy touched his chest. The silver scary could only refer to Natalia's infamous knives. He swallowed back his own pain as the kid described in a way only little children could do, what the crazed woman had done to his beloved.
Author's Note (the part of the chapter where the author comes out and write a silly note): Sorry this is late, I have been extremely busy and I dropped my computer and really messed up the screen so this'll be the last chapter for a couple of weeks. So historical facts here, yes American tanks and Russian (soviet) tanks really did have a showdown in the middle of Berlin October 27, 1961 due to issues of passports and diplomats crossing into East Berlin. It lasted for sixteen hours before Soviets finally pulled a tank back and then the Americans did so and then the Soviets pulled another tank back and so on and so forth and the situation defused. A cultural note (and I'm told by my German textbook this so for what its worth) apparently Germans keep guest rooms to rent out to vacationers and students who are looking for a place to stay to earn some extra money. Also Germans like to go on vacations. If I have offended anybody due to my lack of knowledge of other people's culture I apologize now and please let me know. If not then everybody's hunky-dory and we don't need to worry about it. Please review and remember all flames are sent to the llama gods.