Title: Scorched-Earth Drabbles: The Solution Pt. 2
Author: Fictatious
Character(s): Germany, Prussia, Austria
Rating: R, for swearing and creepy
Warnings: violence, history, sick, sociopathy, and swearing
Summary: Ludwig is disillusioned and Gilbert is really really pissed.

He was clean. He was wearing a crisp, freshly pressed uniform. His hair was neatly combed and every button was in place. Ludwig could be confident that this uniform wouldn't be messed like his night-clothing because his stomach had used up all the ammunition it had and was now quite empty. Whatever hunger-pangs it might have been sending were well over-shadowed by the excruciating pain in the rest of his body. The taste of bile was gone and he was left only with the strong, metallic taste of blood.

Gilbert was on his left, with anger and fear showing in his blood-shot eyes and a slight trembling in his arms when he moved. But he was definitely keeping his movements to a minimum. Roderick was on his right, somewhat slumped in his chair and allowing his hair to shade his sallow, waxen face. For two days no one had told them anything. The serving staff and nurses that had been their main company didn't know anything, they were scared and upset and Gilbert had made several of them cry with his furious demands and accusations.

Finally, after two and a half days of agony, both from the pain and from not knowing the cause, the Furhr was meeting them. Of course the Furhr was a very busy man, and often away from the capitol, but Ludwig still didn't understand why, when something so clearly wrong had to be happening, he hadn't even sent a representative to meet them sooner. And why nobody seemed to know what was happening.

It had to be some new, Soviet weapon, and the government was keeping it a secret from the citizens to prevent mass-hysteria. That had to be it.

Finally the door opened, and the Furhr and his guard came in. Ludwig stood and saluted, despite the pain, but Gilbert only cast a suspicious glare towards the man and Roderick didn't seem to even notice his entrance. The Furhr generously ignored their insubordination. He gave Ludwig a nod and sat down behind his desk as Ludwig all but collapsed back into his own chair.

"My apologies, gentlemen, f-"

"What did you do?" Gilbert demanded, cutting-off the Furhr of the entire German empire.

The Furhr looked annoyed only for a moment before his expression shifted to indulgent. "I'm sorry that you are in pain, Herr Beilschmidt. It seems the infection goes as deep as I had feared."

"Fuck you! What did you do?" Gilbert jerked as though he would have jumped out of his chair if his body were cooperating.

Roerich's head snapped up, his eyes finally falling on the Furhr and his voice was held an unusual sharpness when he spoke. "What infection?"

"The Jewish infection, of course."

There was a moment of confused silence for a moment before Gilbert whispered, "You son of a bitch, WHAT DID YOU DO?" and this time he really did launch out of his chair, slamming his hands down heavily on the Furhr's desk. The Furhr's guards took a step forward and leveled their guns on Gilbert, and the Furhr recoiled slightly, his eyes widening at Gilbert's outburst.

The Furhr seemed to calm himself and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. He spoke in a careful way, as though addressing a child. "I suppose it is to be expected that you three would experience discomfort. Most symptoms of a disease are caused by the body's defenses fighting it. The more virulent the disease, the worse the symptoms. What you are experiencing now is no doubt like the pox or typhoid would be to normal humans, but I assure you gentlemen that you will be stronger once when your blood is pure."

Ludwig's mouth dropped open slightly; his mind seemed blank and filled with confusion at the same time. None of what the Furhr was saying made sense. He couldn't understand it. He had to be misunderstanding. He could see that Gilbert and Roderick had both gone ashen, staring at the Furhr with a look of shocked disbelief.

"... You're insane..." Gilbert whispered, continuing for several moments to just stare, looking utterly shocked. "... You're fucking insane..." And then his hand reached for his side-arm. He always wore it on the left hip, accustomed from centuries of fighting to crossing himself to reach for a sword. By the time he'd pointed his luger, the guards had already hit him three times and the Furhr was diving behind his desk. "YOU MOTHER-FUCKER!" he screamed and shot at the retreating form as two more bullets hit him squarely and one of the guards leapt towards him, realizing how ineffective shooting was. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

More guards came spilling into the room at the sound of gunshots. Gilbert was tackled to the floor. Somebody put a gun directly to his head, only to find it just as useless in putting down the national persona as the previous bullets had been. Everyone was shouting and Ludwig could only stare as soldiers grabbed him and restrained him with hand-cuffs.

"STOP IT!" Roderick was shouting at them. "Even if you COULD kill him, it would mean the death of every man, woman and child who ever called themselves Prussian!"

"Get them out of here!" one of the soldiers shouted. Four more struggled to drag Gilbert back towards the door as he thrashed and cursed. Two pulled Ludwig between them, supporting him as he walked rather than dragging him like his brother; he was too stunned and confused to fight them.

Ludwig looked up to where Roderick was being lead along beside him, still wearing such a completely foreign look of horrified disbelief that he was hardly recognizable. "He-" Ludwig tried to form some coherent sentence, because he knew that he had to have misunderstood. He needed Roderick to tell him that he had heard wrong. "He's killing my people?" his voice came out in a desperate, whining tone.

Roderick lifted his head a little, looking back at Ludwig for a moment before closing his eyes and turning his face towards the floor. His long hair swung down to obscure a pained, guilty expression.

A/N: I think this is the first time I've written something myself that really literally turned my stomach. I am really damn glad to have this scene put to bed and out of my head now.