Author's Notes: Because head canon is weird and Gilbert refuses to express himself any other way. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

Auferstanden aus Ruinen

Prussia is surprised when he wakes up, coarse blanket covering his weak, wounded frame. The last thing he remembers is Russia and his army and his men dying, losing, leaving the way open toward his brother and their heart. His chest feels like it's on fire and he knows, he knows they have lost, he knows that he has failed. He wonders where he is, but feels weak, too weak to stand, too weak to move or rise his own voice. Prussia doesn't know when he falls back to unconsciousness.

The next time he wakes up there is someone on the room and he wonders if he was the one who picked him up from the battlefield. Is a old rule between them, so old that none of them remember when it started, but all of them followed it. Is not out of companionship or care for each other, but a simple rule that saves them from waking up buried with their dead, it's a rule that saves them from going mad each time a war is lost and let's them retain some grade of humanity with them.

"Hello Comrade." Ivan's voice is soft, friendly, and Gilbert is glad, because his head aches as does the rest of his body. He hasn't feel this weak for a long, long time. "You have been sleeping for a long time, yes?"

Prussia tries to talk, to ask, but his throat emits a painful croak and Russia shakes his head, moving to raise his head gently and feed him a little water. The nation feels ashamed but doesn't protest and the other doesn't comment. If it was the other way around Prussia knew he wouldn't either, it is simply the way it is.

"You better rest, Comrade." And Gilbert doesn't protest, he just closes his eyes and feels more than hears Ivan leave him.

When Gilbert opens his eyes next he feels stronger, the fire pain in his chest diminished but not gone. He now recognizes the room he is in and wonders for how long he has been sleep. He remembers his brother and state the Thirty Year War left him in. The nation forces him out the bed and less than gracefully drags his self through the hallways. He hears noise from somewhere within the large house and follows it, follows it because he needs to know.

"Gilbert!" The voice is a familiar one and he soon finds himself held up by its owner. "What are you doing out of bed?!"

"I... Elizabeta what? What are you doing here?" And he pretends not to see the suppressed pity, because if he does he doesn't know what he would do. It has been many years since he trusted her and her him, on a time when both of them wore not uniforms but heavy plates and the Christian cross on their breasts. "Elizabeta?"

"You... You have been sleeping for a long time." Hungary whispers and Prussia finds it strange that Austria is not by her side. "Come on... I... We have much to talk about."

The woman leads and half carries him to a room, where more familiar faces wait for him. Poland is alone, as far away as he can from the Baltic brothers. Estonia is working on some documents as Latvia sit silently next to him. Lithuania is offering cafe to a tired looking Romania. Other countries from Eastern Europe are also in the room and Prussia wonders why Hungary brought him here.

"Ah, Comrade Beilschmidt is awake I see." Ivan smiles at him as Elizabeta set him down, the rest of the countries nod at him before standing quietly and leaving the room the Hungarian female closing the door behind her. "How do you feel?"

"Well enough." A vague answer, but Ivan doesn't question him and Gilbert doesn't offer more. The nation feels more like a rag doll, but his need to know is stronger than any pain he feels "How long?"

"Hum, well, I believe it has been two years now?" Russia isn't looking at him as he answers; instead he stares out the window. He wonders what the Russian sees, both in front him and in his mind "Maybe a little more?"

"And Ludwig…"

"He is with Comrade Kirkland I believe." Arthur? Why is his brother with him? "You see, we thought you wouldn't survive May, so they decided to leave you in my care until then."

"Survive?" And he wants to know what does the other mean by that because he shouldn't be alive in the first place, because he remembers dying at the Russian's hands, leaving the way free to his heart and his brother lands. "Why?"

"Can't you feel it, Comrade?" Ivan's eyes have always been cold, cold like the Siberian Winter, but Gilbert has never been afraid of him. Instead, Gilbert sees the concern and that is what worries him, because they are nations and nations don't show concern to other nations.

But before he can ask anymore he feels it and a gasp escapes him before he brings horrified hands to his mouth. He hears them now, now that he is looking and feels for them, feels his heart bleeding and how weak they are even as they rise. He feels them as they crawl back to the motherland, a motherland poisoned by their own blood. He feels the phantom pain of the land that was his own, feels the hate and the fear as he reaches every heart, every mind.

He feels the tears as he realizes, realizes the truth. And he reaches, blind, confused, terrified and the other reaches for him, frail, beaten but there. They both cry and Gilbert wants to demand for answers, wants to hurt him for saving him, for making them this way, for making them weak. But he can't, because he feels the other's pain as his own and he can only do as he has always done, and holds him as his brother cries, bitter tears mixing as they fall.

And he feels when the Russian picks him up and takes him back to his room, dimly, for he is not really there but far away in a British bed. He is with his brother, minds wrapped around each other as they mix, as Gilbert stops being Prussia and becomes Germany. And he doesn't know how long they cry, he doesn't even know where he is half the time. He just clutches his brother until both of them are pulled back, none ready to return, but they are their people and they must come back.

Gilbert whispers in his brother's mind a final message, a silent warning. They are weaker now, two nations for one country. Their enemies can finish them with little effort, like the flickering flame of a candle in a windy night. And then he is gone and Gilbert is alone again, Ivan staring at him from beside the bed, a silent witness to the end of an old, old nation. Gilbert brushes the tears aside and accepts the clothes the Russian hands him, putting them on without word.

When he next exits the room Prussia is dead, buried in blood, ink and dried tears, and the German Democratic Republic rises in its place.

Author's Notes: I have long thought that for Gilbert to survive Ludwig would have to hand him part of the land and people. I also think that when any of them conquers a place, they leave a mark in the land, and feel them like a phantom pain of a severed limb, which is why Gilbert can feel his former people and land.

Gilbert here isn't scared of Ivan because I find it strange for nations who had fought with and against each other to be. I can understand the Baltic Nations but not France or England. In fact, England was Russia link to Europe for many years and there has talk of marriage between the two royal houses.