WARNING: This chapter begins a discussion about the Holocaust that will continue throughout the story. I want to treat this subject with the upmost respect, but also in a realistic way. Please understand my portrayal of the characters does not imply any broad statements like "all Germans were evil Nazis." I wrote the characters' reactions based on their individual worldviews, circumstances, and goals. I ask that as my readers, you approach this subject with maturity as the story goes on.

Thank you very much, and please enjoy Chapter 7.


CHAPTER 7: Dušš – Shower

Eduard wasn't sure how he had imagined waking up, but it certainly wasn't being rattled by someone shaking his shoulder. In that moment, all flight-or-flight reflexes were replaced with an overpowering determination to get some sleep.

"Eduard! Eduard, wake up!"

Eduard groaned into his pillow. Maybe if he stayed in bed the crisis would go away.

A harsh whisper brushed his ear, "I need the key."

It took a moment for Eduard to process this. Why would Toris need the key? His words were slurred by exhaustion, "It's over, Toris. We can't change Prussia's mind."

"Yes we can, because he is coming out of that dungeon whether he likes it or not. Now if you want Russia to have a key when he opens that door, then you'll give it to me, right now."

Eduard rolled over to squint at the blurred figure of Toris leaning over him. "…What?"

Toris wrung his hands, "The key, Eduard!"

Eduard fumbled with the sheets as he reached down to pull the key from his pocket. "But h-how – what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Toris said taking the key from Eduard. His fist curled around it, a slight smile on his lips as he added, "Ivan did." Without another word, he sprinted out of the room.

"Toris, where are you going?" Raivis's voice called from the hallway, but his only answer was the slap of feet bounding up the stairs.

Eduard stared at the doorway in a daze. Toris's words rang inside of his head as he struggled to comprehend them. Russia… is releasing Prussia from the dungeon?

Raivis leaned into the room, his face pale. "Is everything okay?"

Toris went to return the key… but what if Russia is already on his way to the dungeon? What if he realizes the key is missing? "Sitt."

Raivis's fingers tightened around the door frame. "Okay, everything is definitely not okay."

Eduard rubbed his eyes and forced his nerves to calm – there was still a chance Toris could replace the key on time. He picked up his glasses from the side table and cleaned them with his nightshirt. "It's nothing to stress over. What we should be worrying about is getting started on our morning duties."

Raivis didn't move from his spot by the door, looking at Eduard with concern. "You're… gonna be okay, right?"

Eduard cleared his throat, slipping on his glasses. "You'd better get dressed." Raivis hugged himself as he walked to the dresser in silence.

Eduard massaged his temples, playing out the possible scenarios. If Russia did catch Toris, he would have no way of knowing Eduard was part of the plot. Russia might still release Prussia from the dungeon, in which case the plan could work. But if Eduard ran to Toris's rescue, the plan would be ruined for sure. Guilt settled in Eduard's stomach – after all Toris had done to help, and now it was too dangerous to give him backup.

"Raivis." The boy turned around, shouldering on his uniform jacket. Eduard locked his brother in a stern gaze. "No matter what happens, I want you to stick to your chores today. Stay away from Russia, understand?"

Dozens of questions swirled in those violet eyes. "Okay. And Eduard?"

Eduard braced himself for the inevitable interrogation. "Yes?"

"You… are going to take a shower, aren't you? You smell really bad."

Eduard blinked at the unexpected question. He held out a sleeve in front of him, then took a whiff and almost gagged at the familiar stench of the dungeon. "Good heavens. Yes, I will definitely be taking a shower." He sent his brother a small smile. "Thank you for reminding me."

Raivis smirked. "Bitte sehr, Herr Österreich."

"What?"

"Nothing." Raivis fastened the last button of his uniform jacket and strode to the door.

Eduard frowned, he could have sworn that was German. "Remember what I said about your chores!"

"Yeah, no matter what, I got it!"

For perhaps the first time, Eduard found himself grateful for his brother's bluntness. It was a miracle Raivis hadn't recognized the smell, but if Russia were to catch a whiff of the dungeon it would spell absolute disaster. Eduard grabbed a uniform and headed to the shower, where he discovered that ridding himself of the incriminating evidence was easier said than done. "Come on," he growled, scrubbing himself furiously for what must have been the fifth time. By now he was unsure if the stench was coming from him, or if it had been so branded into his memory that he was only imagining it. After the eighth rinse, he finally gave up.

Eduard stepped out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around his waist and smearing the condensation from the mirror. He craned his head upwards, running a finger along the dark bruises encircling his neck. "Seven years of being starved in a cell, and he could have killed me with his eyes closed." His finger roughed over the thin red cut where the knife had rested. "Amazing."

Just then there was a sharp knock. "Eduard, is that you? I've brought a scarf for the bruises."

Eduard froze at that voice, then threw open the door. Steam drifted into the hall around a grinning Lithuanian. Eduard scanned his brother's body for any sign of injury, stopping at Toris's left hand which was wrapped in thick bandages. No... that means –

Toris must have seen the horror on his face. "Oh, Ivan didn't catch me. This was from a run-in with him this morning."

"What – "

"I'll explain once you finish cleaning up. And put this on, we can't risk having Ivan see your injuries."

Eduard took the knitted scarf from his brother, mind numb with what the true meaning of those words. The weight of defeat that had crushed him all morning now lifted from of his shoulders, and for the first time in years Eduard felt something akin to happiness. He let out a short breath, and he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. "The plan is going to work," he breathed, unable to believe it.

He saw a spark in Toris's eyes. "The plan is going to work."

By the time Eduard returned to the bedroom, Toris was sitting on his bed already dressed. The Lithuanian explained the situation as Eduard put on his uniform – how he had suggested a meeting to Russia, how Russia had refused, and how General Winter had come the very next night to warn Russia of NATO's strength, thus spurring him to schedule a meeting with Stalin's approval.

"And you won't believe this, but he wants all of the republics to attend – us, the girls, the Caucuses – everyone is going to be there!"

Eduard frowned; something seemed off here. It was true that NATO was growing stronger, but even Soviet schoolchildren knew that. Why would the General go through the trouble to warn Russia of something so obvious – and right after Toris had done the same thing? It was simply too much of a coincidence. Eduard's eyes widened at the realization: Russia is lying. Winter's visit had to be a cover-up… but why else would their master agree to hold a meeting, and with all of the republics no less? Could it be a part of a larger scheme? The meeting was my idea – what could he be using it for?

"Eduard? Is everything alright?"

He was snapped from his thoughts and looked up to see Toris frowning in concern. Eduard pushed up his glasses. "I think Russia is lying."

"Lying? About what?"

"General Winter didn't come to warn him of NATO. It's too much of a coincidence – since when has Winter's interests aligned with ours?"

Toris's eyebrows shot up as if to say, Good point. "So why do you think Winter came?"

"That's not the issue. The real question is, why is Russia suddenly holding a meeting after all of these years? And why would he want all of the republics there?" Eduard swiveled on his his heel and began pacing around the room. That's not all – the circumstances are even stranger if Prussia is involved. "How do you know that Russia is going to release Prussia from the dungeon? Did he tell you point blank?"

Toris leaned back on his hands, green eyes following Eduard's figure across the room. "He asked me to prepare a guest bedroom with chains, I don't see who else it would be for."

"That means the law requiring Prussia to attend is on the forefront of his mind. If that's the case, withholding a meeting could have been a direct method of keeping Prussia in the dungeon." Eduard brought up a hand to stroke his chin. "What has Russia said to you about Prussia in the last seven years?"

"Not much. Whenever he does, he talks as though he's killed him."

"No doubt he's been telling the world the same thing. That would explain why he hasn't told Prussia about the GDR."

"So… withholding a meeting means maintaining the lie that Prussia is dead?"

"Yes. Which means holding a meeting is essentially a resurrection."

Toris frowned. "But… why would Ivan do that? He left Potsdam with Prussia slung over his shoulder like some kind of trophy – just think how it would look if the West found out he couldn't kill him!"

"It would be an embarrassment," Eduard muttered.

"Exactly. With the power balance as it is right now, I'll bet America is holding his breath just waiting for a chance to humiliate Ivan. Prussia's 'resurrection' as you called it, would be the perfect opportunity."

Eduard was grateful for Toris's help – that kind of insight could save them from being out-maneuvered. "So… why, then? Is the whole thing a bluff? Or perhaps the meeting and Prussia are unrelated?"

There was a stretch of silence as the two brothers thought this through. Eduard continued pacing, his mind running through any scenario that could give Russia an advantage. It annoyed him that his master could be using his own plan for other means, but it wasn't a surprise. Russia only did things for personal gain.

Finally Toris offered, "What if Ivan doesn't take Prussia to the meeting at all? What if his 'release' is really a deportation?"

Eduard thought this through. "If Russia wanted to send Prussia to the Gulag, why couldn't he have done it before? Why release him now, in correlation to the meeting?"

"Could it be legal problems? Maybe he's bound – "

"The conditions at Potsdam gave Russia full authority to violate the Nation Treatment Code. He can do to Prussia whatever he wants."

"Even against Stalin's orders?"

After pause Eduard said, "...No. You're saying Stalin could have ordered Russia to keep Prussia in the dungeon?"

Toris let out a deep sigh, falling backwards onto the mattress. "I can guess what Ivan wants, but I can't possibly know what Stalin has ordered him to do. The nation and the government are too separate – it's impossible to know what he's planning, or even if he's the one planning it."

Eduard pinched his nose – it was all too much, even for him. Winter's convenient visit, Prussia's sudden release, all of the republics and satellite states under the same roof…something was definitely going on. He racked his brain for any other clues – a sign, anything that could help predict Russia's plans. But as usual, their master left no trails for them to follow. "I refuse to accept that any of this is a coincidence. But until we learn more, all we can do is hope that Russia's plans don't intersect with our own. We need Prussia, and we need him alive."

"AAAAEEEEEIIIAAAAHH!"

Eduard jumped and Toris shot upright in bed at the blood-curdling shriek that tore through mansion. They locked eyes across the room, and Toris's shocked expression confirmed what Eduard already knew: That was Prussia's voice. Eduard's hands balled into fists. "I will not allow this plan to fall through just because Russia woke up a little bloodthirsty."

Toris's eyes softened. "There's nothing we can do."

"AAAAHHHHHH!"

Eduard flinched; it sounded as though Prussia was being tortured. Damn you, Russia! Everything had finally fallen into place, the plan was going to work, and now – ! "Yes there is," he growled, and before he could stop himself he was striding towards the door.

"Eduard, what are you – ? You don't intend to – Have you gone mad, we're powerless to stop Ivan and he won't hesitate to remind you of that! Eduard!"

Eduard broke into a run, ignoring Toris's protests. The entryways whooshed past as he followed the sounds of the screams deeper into the mansion, towards the dungeon door. He could hear a rapid roar of German, but it was still too far away to understand. The mere desperation in Prussia's voice sent horrible images flashing through mind – what could Russia be doing to him? Just then a red blur shot out from behind a corner and slammed right into Eduard's chest. The air was knocked out of him, and he careened backwards before landing hard on the floor.

"Owwww, my head…" a voice whined.

Eduard grunted at the pain throbbing in his abdomen. He blinked at the blurry form of a boy sprawled in front of him. "Raivis, I thought we went over this!"

An arm shot out to press his glasses into his palm. Eduard slipped them on to see the boy's panicked expression. "But someone is screaming!"

Eduard pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the dizziness. "Yes, which is why it's not safe for you to be running through the hallways."

"But you're running through hallways!"

"AAEEEIIIIIIAAAHHHH!"

Eduard cursed under his breath, then jolted back into a sprint.

"Eduard, wait!"

He barely noticed the footsteps pattering after him as he picked up speed. Deep shouts in Russian echoed through the walls, "I swear to God, Prussiya, if you do not SHUT UP then I will put you on the first train to Siberia, do you understand!? I am sick and tired of your – insane – " Russia grunted. There was a string of curses and the rattling of chains.

"Did he say Prussia?" Raivis panted from behind. "I thought Prussia was dead!"

"Shh!" Eduard hissed. He staggered to a halt and grabbed his brother by the shoulder. Raivis let out a yelp as Eduard pulled him close, chest heaving and back pressed against the wall.

"NEEEEEIIINNNNNN!" Prussia's scream broke with hysterical sobs in German, "L-let me go, p-please, I-I d-don't want to go, I-I don't w-want – I'll do anything – P-please, PLEASE!"

"It is a shower, you insufferable moron! Just – a goddamn – SHOWER!"

Eduard and Raivis looked at each other in bewilderment. Shower? At last curiosity got the best of him and he peered around the corner into the hallway. Raivis followed suit, the two huddled together as they leaned out to see what was going on.

Russia stood in the hallway, feet spread in a defensive stance. He was breathing hard, and even from this distance Eduard could see bright red claw marks scarring the Russian's face and neck. He seemed to be struggling to force someone into a small bathroom. With one final shove Russia slammed the door shut, throwing his entire weight onto it and twisting the lock.

"NOO! N-No let me out, LET ME OUT!" The door rattled violently on its hinges, the handle jerking up and down. There were bangs and scratches from inside of the bathroom – then a THUD as the door was kicked from the inside.

Eduard stared at the scene before him in disbelief. A shower? Prussia was screaming because Russia forced him to take a shower? He had risked running all this way to protect Prussia and now – ! Then it dawned on him. Last night Prussia had nearly killed Eduard at the mere suggestion of leaving the dungeon. His eyes widened as they fell on the torn, grimy fabric of Russia's sleeves. Prussia hadn't been screaming because of torture – he was screaming because he didn't want out.

Russia's chest heaved with the effort of just having wrestled an insane Prussian, eyes burning with more rage than Eduard would have cared to be within range of. "You are staying in there until you take a shower!" he roared over the racket from behind the door. "And I don't care if you starve!" With that, Russia spun around and stormed down the hallway directly towards the two brothers.

Eduard gasped and pulled Raivis behind the corner. He glanced around for somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere to go. Rapid footsteps neared, and a frazzled Toris staggered to a halt in front of them. "Have you two gone mad?" he hissed between gasps for air. "Get out of here before Ivan – "

"I do not recall giving permission to neglect your work, da?"

The Baltics jumped and turned to crane their necks up at their master. The cheery tone of his voice was a harsh contrast to the fire blazing in his eyes. Eduard shrunk backwards into the wall, Raivis looping thin arms around his. That icy-violet gaze slid in his direction, and Eduard felt his entire body stiffen. "Estonia. Perhaps you can explain the situation?"

Eduard shared a knowing glance with Toris. With Raivis here, he had no choice but to tell the truth. "I-It's my fault, sir. I heard the screams and ran to see what was going on, my brothers only followed."

Russia raised an intrigued eyebrow. "You are smart, Estonia. Surely you know that anyone who intervenes in my business will be punished?"

Raivis gasped, grip tightening around Eduard's arm. He swallowed thickly. "Yes, sir."

Narrowed violets looked him up and down, and for a moment Eduard felt as though his master was discerning how difficult it would be to break him in half. A deep hum rumbled in the back of his throat. "Very well, if you are so interested in my business… You will guard the bathroom door, da? If you are incompetent enough to let Prussiya escape, you will take his place in the dungeon."

Eduard shuddered; he intended to never walk down those stone steps again. "Yes, sir."

Cold eyes scanned over all of them, Russia's lips spread in a forced smile. "I have had a… difficult morning. Do not disturb me again, da?"

"Yes, sir," they answered in unison.

Russia turned to stride down the hallway, his shadow passing over them as boots thudded through the floor. Eduard caught a glimpse of scratch marks on Russia's face – he gulped; maybe guarding the bathroom wasn't going to be such an easy task. The moment their master turned the corner, there was a collective sigh of relief. Raivis's grip loosened from Eduard's arm so his circulation could function again. The boy marched into the center of the hallway, hands on his hips.

"Okay, does someone want to tell me what the heck is going on? Like, oh I dunno… why Prussia is ALIVE and you two are acting like it's completely normal? Tell me I'm not an idiot and haven't missed some important memo in the last seven years."

"You're not an idiot, Raivis," Toris sighed. "Russia has been pretending that Prussia is dead. We weren't sure if he was alive; it was just a hunch."

"But – how? Wasn't that the whole reason Russia took custody of him in the first place – to kill him?"

Eduard bit back a groan; the situation was too complicated to explain right now. A shared glance with Toris, and the Lithuanian seemed to sense his mounting stress.

"I'll tell you what, Raivis – if you start your chores in the kitchen I'll make lunch and we can talk more about Prussia then. Okay?"

The boy scowled, he could tell they were pushing him away. "Fine. But no more weird surprises; at the very least I want to know how many people are in this house."

"Five," Toris smiled. "That's a promise."

Raivis only hugged himself and shivered, muttering in Latvian as he stalked away, "Pieci, jā, tiešām! Tādā gadījumā Baltkrievija ir slēpusies bēniņos pēdējos sešus gadus... biedējoši!" Eduard and Toris watched him go, listening to the quick patter of footsteps fade down the hall.

BANG!

The two of them jumped at the noise coming from the bathroom – it sounded as though Prussia was trying to break down the door. "I can't believe I risked running here for that lunatic," Eduard muttered. At this rate I'll never get today's paperwork done.

But the spark in Toris's eyes told him his brother had an idea. "Actually, it's a good thing you did. Think about it: You'll be alone with Prussia, he has no choice but to listen to you, and now that he's stuck in the bathroom he can't hurt you. It's the perfect opportunity to convince him to help us."

BANG!

Eduard winced. "You think he is going to help us?" His brother might not be so optimistic had Prussia held a knife to his throat.

"It's not like he has an option. Whether he admits it or not, Prussia can't last a day in this mansion without our help. If he isn't realizing that now…"

BANG!

"If you're so sure of our leverage, why don't you talk to him," Eduard huffed.

"Because you're the only one with a level enough head to put up with his bullshit. You ignore the distractions and cut right to the chase – and with someone like Prussia, that is essential. Ever wonder how Germany is able to handle him so well?"

Eduard blinked; he had never been compared to Germany before.

BANG!

Toris sent him a weak smile. "Don't think I don't know just how impossible Prussia can be. But you're better at this than you think, Eduard – you can get him on our side."

"But – "

"Meet me in the kitchen once Ivan relieves you of watch duty. We'll decide what to do then."

Eduard sighed in defeat; Toris was right. Being assigned to guard Prussia was an incredible stroke of luck, they wouldn't get a better opportunity to bargain with him. "Alright, fine. But don't tell Raivis about the plan – just the basics of why Prussia is alive."

"My lips are sealed." Toris gave Eduard a strong pat on the arm, and in that moment it struck Eduard that he hadn't seen his brother this happy in years. There was a new energy about him – an excitement, an optimism that was typically absent from those emerald eyes. Just two days ago Eduard had accused Toris of being love with their master, but now he wasn't so sure. Ever since the war, Toris has been the most loyal to Russia... but now he's enjoying every moment of this!

"Good luck," Toris said, and with a sharp nod he spun on his heel to head towards the kitchen. Eduard watched his brother go, wondering what had caused the sudden change in attitude.

BANG!

Eduard jumped at the sudden noise. It had sounded like metal-on-metal – what on earth was Prussia doing? He walked to the bathroom door, keeping his distance in case its prisoner somehow managed to break it down. "Preußen?" he called, hoping the Prussian might recognize his voice.

BANG! There was a grunt, a creaking of metal, and then a clatter that sounded like something had fallen into the bathtub.

"Prussia, this is Estonia, we talked last night! Can you hear me?"

There was a strangled cry from behind the door, then what sounded like hyperventilation. After a few moments the breathing escalated into coughing. Eduard frowned – he didn't recall the Prussian having a cough the previous night. There was a moaning shriek, and the coughing grew worse. Prussia wheezed and choked and hacked, moaning in pain in between ragged gasps for air. Eduard was torn between Russia's orders and the possibility that his plan could be suffocating behind that door. His hands shook as his eyes fell on the bathroom lock.

"H-HELP! S-somebody, PLE-EASE!"

That did it for Eduard – without giving himself a chance to change his mind, he unlocked the bathroom door and swung it open. "Prussia, what's going – " his voice caught in his throat as he stared in shock at the scene before him.

Even after meeting him last night, Eduard had forgotten he still didn't know what Prussia looked like. He remembered vaguely from the party in '45, but that had been seven years ago. In the darkness of the dungeon he had felt cold fingers, heard that scratchy voice, and smelled the Prussian's hot breath. But now that Prussia was out in the open, seven years of abuse glistened for the world to see.

The first thing Eduard noticed was Prussia's back. Dark red flesh writhed and bulged in angry ridges, the skin split into deep glossy gashes that criss-crossed over each other in the sick design of a chessboard. A stripe of raw muscle wrapped around Prussia's neck from where the chain had been, outlined with deep purple bruises. Similar scars circled both of Prussia's ankles. Eduard had remembered the Prussian's hair as being snow white – now it was a dingy grey, hopelessly matted and encrusted with dried blood. In addition to cuts there were also burns – Eduard cringed upon seeing the sickle and hammer branded onto Prussia's hip. The scar rested above the waistline of a filthy tattered pair of trousers. At first Eduard thought the pants were dyed a brownish rust, then he realized the color was a patchwork of bloodstains.

Eduard's stomach churned with sickness. How could Russia do this? Prussia was collapsed onto his hands and knees. His entire body convulsed as he choked, clawing the cabinets with bloody fingers and leaving crimson scratch marks. Eduard swallowed the bile rising in his throat, forcing himself to recover from the shock of seeing Russia's prized prisoner. "Prussia!" he called, crouching beside him to try and make eye contact. He reached out to touch a glossy shoulder, but Prussia recoiled and backed into the bathtub.

"G-get away from me! I-I can't help you, I-I can't… y-you're all dead!"

His face snapped up and Eduard drew back in shock. Prussia was crying. Dark circles curved beneath his eyes; a startling crimson, almost identical in color to fresh blood. The whites were rimmed with pink as tears streamed down his face, carving lines of cream amid the grime that masked his face. Eduard recognized that look. He had seen it many times before in his brothers' eyes after they awoke screaming from nightmares. All at once, Eduard understood: Prussia is having a flashback.

"Prussia!" He knelt down to look him in the eye. "You have to snap out of it! It's 1952! Do you understand me?"

Prussia curled into a ball, rocking back and forth and wailing into his knees. Eduard was unsure how to react to this. After so many years of dealing with Raivis, he should be able to handle tears fairly well, but this was different. Prussia was not in 1950's Moscow – he was somewhere else in the world, completely lost in the past. Eduard peered around him to get a better look at the bathtub. Bloody handprints smeared across the white porcelain, and lying in the middle of the tub was – he did a double take – The shower head? Looking up at its place on the wall Eduard saw a gaping hole, the tile shattered and bits of plaster flaking off. There were scratch marks where Prussia had pried off the tile. He frowned as he tried to imagine what kind of flashback Prussia could be going through. Why would he rip out the shower head?

"L-leave me alone… I-I can't help you, I-I can't!" Prussia wailed, rocking back and forth with his head in his bleeding hands.

Eduard knelt down once again, determined to rescue the Prussian from whatever hell he was reliving. "Prussia," he said. "Prussia, look at me. You're safe, okay? Everything will be alright. Can you hear me?"

Prussia looked up from his knees, eyes searching wildly as though he were blind. He reached out with trembling fingers and seized Eduard's hand. Eduard tried to ignore the blood that squelched between the creases of his palm as his fingers curled around Prussia's in a firm grip. "You're safe," he repeated. "Whatever you're going through, it's not real."

Prussia's chest heaved until at last his breathing steadied. He blinked rapidly, then something seemed to snap into place as he locked gazes with Eduard. There was something truly striking about those eyes – a bright crimson that made Prussia look more beast than human. And with their close proximity, Eduard had the sudden feeling as though he were the prey.

"Who… who are you?" Prussia rasped.

"I'm Estonia," Eduard said slowly, careful not to startle him.

"Estonia…" Prussia muttered. He let go of Eduard's hand, wiping the blood on his pants. "Estonia, Estonia…"

Now that he had emerged from the flashback, Eduard realized the danger of being this close to the nation who had almost killed him the night before. He slowly rose to his feet, backing towards the bathroom door. Prussia's head snapped up to lock eyes with Eduard as he said,

"There's no point in hitting Estonia; that place has been Judenfrei since '41."

Eduard froze. His eyes widened at the haunting word, the one that labelled every last Jew in his country dead. "H-hitting – ?"

"And you mind telling me what the hell we're doing in a bathroom?"

No, it's not possible... is this another flashback? "W-we're in Moscow – "

"Moscow?! Why the hell – " Prussia looked down at the scars on his wrists, then his eyes widened in horror. "What? The Reds captured us?! I told those idiots to keep an eye out for Soviet Partisans! What, they think SS uniforms are a fucking joke!?"

The sick feeling in Eduard's stomach grew worse. He'd heard horror stories from the other Third Reich territories of how Prussia had brutally interrogated them for information. So it's true. Prussia worked with the Gestapo…

"Forget planning, right now we've gotta figure out how to get out of here." Blood red eyes narrowed at Eduard. "Wait just a fucking minute. You're not in our squad, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm not – "

"Don't tell me you're one of these hot shots trying to sneak away and 'join the cause.' Gott knows I have enough trouble keeping your asses safe without you hopping in the back of a jeep on some delusion of grandeur." Gilbert gestured around to the bathroom. "You see what happens when you try to be a hero? This isn't a movie, kid. So don't come whining to me when the Russians have you strapped to a chair pulling out your fingernails."

Eduard felt as though he might be sick. "So that's what this is to you," he said, voice shaking with emotion. "Just some heroic mission; a 'good deed' to make the world a better place?"

A bitter smile crossed Prussia's face. "You know what, since we're about to die anyway I'll let you in on a little secret." He held out his right arm, then rolled it so the pale underside faced upwards. Eduard dared to lean in, eyes narrowing at what Prussia was trying to show him. Past a thick layer of grime and dried blood was some kind of writing in blue-green ink. The figures were sloppy and uneven, but at last Eduard was able to make out a six digit number tattooed onto Prussia's forearm:

63956

Eduard's mouth fell open. Wait… is that…?

"I do this," Prussia hissed, "Because I don't have a fucking choice."


History Notes

SS:
The Schutzstaffel, literally "Protection Squadron" was the Nazis's foremost agency of security, surveillance, and terror. The SS consisted of separate divisions, each with their own roles. The Gestapo began in 1933 as a Prussian secret police force, and was nationalized in 1936. They were tasked with the detection and neutralization of potential enemies of the Nazi state. After the invasion of Poland in 1939, many Gestapo agents were recruited to become members of the Einsatzgruppen, or "death squads" tasked with the extermination of the Jews in Nazi-Occupied territories. Einsatzgruppe A operated in the Baltic States, recruiting local units of auxiliary police that assisted the SS in identifying and murdering Jews. The Baltic States saw the highest percentage of Jewish eradication in all of Europe, with over 130,000 killed just within the first five months. (Source: Topography of Terror Former Gestapo Headquarters, Berlin)

The Holocaust in Estonia:
There have been a few moments this year that have given me revelations about Baltic history. One of these was during my first trip to Estonia. In the first draft of DITR, in this scene Prussia listed several Estonian concentration camps. I was on a train from Narva to Tallinn, and I looked out the window and my heart just dropped, because the sign for the train stop was the name of one of those camps. Then we went to the next stop... and the next. And I realized that the names of the concentration camps were simply the names of Estonian towns. What disturbed me about this, was that during our entire time in Estonia I had not heard a single word about the Holocaust. Not a sign, museum plaque, or guide had mentioned it. A later conversation with my professor confirmed my suspicions: Estonia does not consider the Holocaust to be an Estonian tragedy.

Eastern Europe had been a thriving center of Jewish culture for centuries, especially the former Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth which was very tolerant. By WWII, Vilnius was called the "Jerusalem of the North" with 36% of the population being Jewish and over a hundred synagogues. Before the war, the small Latvian city I now live in had 40 synagogues, and Yiddish was a main business-working language in the area. In Estonia, however, Jewish culture was not nearly as prominent. In 1934 there were only 4,000 Jews in Estonia (.4%), and by the time of the Nazi Occupation many of them had either fled or been deported by the Soviet regime, leaving about 2,000. While the Nazis had taken advantage of local antisemitism in Latvia and Lithuania to recruit locals to assist in the killings, this strategy was not nearly as successful in Estonia. Nevertheless the remaining Estonian Jews were executed, and Estonia was declared "Judenfrei" or "free of Jews" by December of 1941. Estonia is one of the only countries in which the "Final Solution" was deemed 100% successful. (Sources: POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews in Warsaw, Jews of Daugavpils and Latgale Museum and Estonia and the Estonians by Toivo U. Raun)

In the whole of Estonia, there is only one Holocaust memorial. Reasons for this may include 1) the majority of Jews killed in Estonia were not Estonian, but were shipped in from other Eastern European countries to the aforementioned concentration camps, numbering at about 10,000. And 2) historically, Estonia did not have a rich Jewish culture or problems with antisemitism like the rest of Eastern Europe. As my professor put it, "To Latvians, the Holocaust is our tragedy. But to the Estonians, it is the Jews' tragedy."

Meanwhile in Latvia and Lithuania, there is one synagogue left in my city and the 2012 demographic chart for Jews in Vilnius reads "N/A"

Translations
Raivis's lines:"You're welcome, Mr. Austria" and "Five, yeah right. At this rate, Belarus has been hiding in the attic for the past six years... scary!" (Special thanks to my Latvian friend for help with this one)

AN: No part of the Holocaust is comfortable to talk about, and I try to be as straightforward with the history as possible. Through my travels the tragedy has become real to me, and it is my goal to portray it as such in this story. So moving forward, please be aware that genocide will be a reoccurring topic. On that depressing note... reviews?