"It's initiation day!" Roderich shouted at the top of his lungs the some morning around a week later after Toris left. He was the leader of the group, the person who would be known as the kapo in Germany. Toris called him the prižiūrėtojas, or overseer. Basch called him the bitch, Gilbert called him the douchebag, and Ivan called him the brat. Whatever name he was given, he was still the one in charge when one of the Baltics or Feliks wasn't there and everyone resented it.
"Initiation day!" Ivan echoed, clapping his hands. "And just in time too. They just put up new ones yesterday."
"What's initiation day?" Gilbert asked, pulling on his shoes.
"Well, we're a pretty elite group here…" Roderich started. "Ivan really invented the whole thing. It's sort of an acceptance ceremony into our ranks. We all take care of each other here. But if you fail, we ignore you. You pass, welcome to the group."
"It was supposed to take place the day after you came here, but you-know-what happened," Ivan added.
"Don't say it!" Roderich covered his ears with his hands, glaring at Ivan. "Anyway, meet us at the flagpoles after dinner. It'll start then." He left the cell block, going off to roll call.
Ludwig was stuck building new barracks, separated from everyone he knew. That is, until he found Antonio and Lovino. The Spaniard was trying to make the guards smile as he worked, openly laughing and making jokes at his own expense. Lovino carried on working like he didn't know Antonio, ignoring anything that was said to him. Ludwig was wondering why no one had smashed Antonio's skull in already, considering he was doing more laughing than working.
"Hola, Ludwig!" He called, waving at the German. Lovino glanced up, his green eyes narrowing.
"And good morning to you too, Antonio." Ludwig couldn't help but give him a tiny smile. After all, happiness was infectious when you rarely found it.
"So, what's going on with you? I haven't seen you in such a long time! Me and Lovino are so far away from everyone, and the guards don't want us to talk to you. Don't know why, though. Did Feliks make you sign that contract thing yet?" Antonio was getting rather enthusiastic as he spoke, his grin even bigger than before.
"Yes, we signed the contract," Ludwig yawned, holding up one of the planks for Lovino to nail in. The Italian frowned at Ludwig, but managed to nail in the board without beating Ludwig's hand into a pulp. "Did either of you get the radium treatment?"
"That's what that stuff is? No, we didn't get it. Lovino was about to, until he saw the needle. He's always been scared of those, ever since –"
"Shut up!" Lovino hissed, giving the Spaniard a swift kick in the shin. Antonio yelped, grabbing his now wounded leg.
"Romano!" Antonio scolded. "You do not do that to people! Didn't we go over this?"
"Don't call me Romano. If you absolutely have to call me by my country name," Lovino pointed his hammer that he was using at Antonio accusingly. "Call me South Italy."
"But you always let me call you Romano," Antonio pouted, sticking out his bottom lip.
"See what I have to put up with?" Lovino sighed, turning to Ludwig. "I'd rather be stuck with you potato bastards than with him."
"No you wouldn't. You love me more than you care to admit," Antonio mumbled.
"I'm going to ignore that and continue working like a good prisoner should, idiota."
"So, pardon the profanities, but why the hell are you here, Antonio? Weren't you an ally of the Empire?" Ludwig asked, glancing at the Spanish man.
"I was. That is, until they attacked Italy. We agreed to help each other on certain terms. They asked for me to supply them with soldiers and weapons and in return they would keep Italy safe. But they broke their end of the promise, so we were left with no choice but to attack. I sort of got captured, though." Antonio rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "So, there's my story. Lovino won't tell me his, so I can't give you any details about him."
The three of them spent the rest of the day working on adding a long wall to the shell of a building. Antonio kept their spirits up, making jokes and singing the whole time. Lovino pretended like he was irritated with Antonio, but Ludwig caught him a handful of times looking over at the Spaniard and smiling or silently singing along to the songs.
"The sun's finally gone!" Antonio cheered, pointing to the fading pink line on the horizon. "We can stop working soon."
In just a few minutes, they were told they could stop and could go eat dinner. Lovino threw the hammer into the dirt, marching away from the two. Antonio called after him, gave Ludwig a small apology, and then ran after the Italian. Once again Ludwig was alone, a feeling he was learning to dread. It often led to him allowing his mind to wander to the strange girl in his dreams. He was still confused about who she could be. Perhaps she was someone who died long ago and was trying to reach out to him. Or maybe it was just a stranger who caught his subconscious attention. Whatever it was, it was starting to drive Ludwig insane.
"Alright!" Roderich announced, leaning up against one of the four flag poles. "Here's how things are going to work out. You all will have around five minutes to retrieve the flag you are assigned. The guards are changing shifts right now, so there isn't that to worry about. However, that's only the beginning. Once you have the flag you have to take it back to the cells without getting caught. You can use any means to hide it, but it has to be back by the time Toris comes to lock everyone up. Any questions?"
Gilbert raised his hand in the air. "Can we stop wasting time and start already?"
"Fine. Ludwig, you have the Lithuanian flag, Basch has the Latvian, and Gilbert has the Estonian. Oh, and I forgot to mention that the punishment for stealing the flags is a firing squad in front of everyone at roll call. So, have at it!" Roderich gestured to the flag poles, then went over with Yao and Ivan. The three of them left for the cell house, making quiet bets on who would come in first.
Getting the flags down was the easy part. All the skill you needed was the ability to untie a rope and pull the flag down so you could unhook it. Ludwig easily removed the flag from its clasps and retied the ropes. In just a minute, the only flag still flying was the Polish one. Only now did Ludwig realize he was stuck with the task of figuring out how to hide it. He could just bolt for the cells, but by now there were guards stationed at the entrances. You couldn't just saunter in with a giant flag draped over your shoulder. The size was rather inconvenient, as it didn't allow many choices for hiding.
"I would start moving!" Ivan called back at them, motioning with his thumb towards the guards that were coming to their posts.
Ludwig looked over at Gilbert, who was tying the Estonian flag around his neck like a scarf. He looked over at his younger brother and tossed his makeshift scarf over his shoulder. With a rebellious gleam in his eye, he marched proudly away in the direction of the cells. Basch was already gone, probably having snuck off to the cells quietly. Now Ludwig was starting to get worried. He still had no idea where to hide a giant flag, never mind getting it back to the cell block. Getting quite frustrated with himself and his lack of creativity, Ludwig ducked behind a building out of the sight of the guards. He tore off his shirt, wrapping the flag around his torso. Sure, it wasn't imaginative, but it was going to work. After pulling on his shirt and checking there weren't any odd things sticking out, Ludwig made a quick check for any guards and half ran half walked back to the cells.
His older brother was standing outside of the doorway, arguing with a soldier. The soldier had a fistful of his "scarf," and was glaring at Gilbert with the hostility of a watch dog. "You obviously have no sense of fashion! I mean, this is a designer scarf." The Prussian huffed, tearing the flag from the man's hands.
"And where would you get a 'designer' scarf that happens to look like the Estonian flag?"
"Estonian flag?" Gilbert echoed, pretending like he'd never heard the word before. "What the hell is an Estonian?"
"Ha, ha. Very funny. So funny, in fact, I'm sure von Bock will be pleased to hear about this." The guard put a hand on his rifle strap, a sick smile splitting his face.
"Leave the nerd out of this," Gilbert said, taking a wary step back.
"Why don't you just admit that you stole the flag? That way you can die with a clear conscious," he growled.
"Never." Gilbert stuck his nose up in the air, crossing his arms. "You just don't understand fashion."
The guard was getting very irritated with the albino, made painfully obvious by how red his face was. He tore off his rifle, shoving it into Gilbert's chest. His finger was on the trigger, prepared to shoot. Out of instinct, Ludwig bolted forward and tackled the guard. He hardly registered what he just did until he found himself with a knife at his throat.
"I'm giving you one chance to get off of me!" he snarled, pressing the knife into Ludwig's neck. A trickle of warm blood started from the small cut, but it was enough to startle the burly German.
Ludwig instantly got up, putting a hand to his neck. Gilbert grabbed him and pulled him close, his eyes darting nervously from the guard getting to his feet to the cut on his brother's throat. Both of them were too stunned to speak, just looking at each other and blinking.
"Both of you, with me," the guard spat, pointing a gloved hand to the forest behind camp.
Toris paced back and forth in front of the three of them, while Eduard merely glared at Gilbert. Several times Toris opened his mouth as if to start a rant, but then stopped. Finally Eduard spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable quiet.
"Can I have my flag back?" he asked, holding out his hand. Gilbert reluctantly took off his scarf of sorts, putting it in Eduard's outstretched hand. The Estonian muttered a thank you, or perhaps it was a curse.
"Okay, I think I've got it now," Toris said, turning to face all three of them. "So, you attempted to slit Ludwig's throat because he tackled you. And he tackled you because he felt his brother was being threatened. Now, where does the flag fall into this?"
"The white haired one was wearing it around his neck, sir."
"Well, yes, I think we established that. Honestly, the three of you haven't been here for more than a week and you're already causing trouble." Toris pinched the bridge of his nose, looking over to Eduard for support. Eduard groaned, stepping forward to his brother's side.
"Let's make this short and sweet. Sergeant Kaczka, please don't kill people unless ordered to. Ludwig, please try to contain your anger. Gilbert, please don't take the flags down anymore. There, simple as that," Eduard huffed.
"That's not how you punish someone." The Lithuanian gave Eduard a gentle nudge. "Why don't you go upstairs?"
"Who put you in charge? Last I checked Feliks was still the ringleader of this bloody circus. And I wasn't going to let them get away without punishment! If you don't tell them upfront, then it'll be more painful."
"Of course you were. Now, go upstairs," Toris said in a low voice, along with something Ludwig couldn't understand.
Eduard backed away from Toris, his blue green eyes bursting with anger. "Fine, I'll go. See you tomorrow, Ivan." He drew out the last word as he walked out of the room, laughing to himself.
"Don't you dare call me that name again!" Toris roared.
"Sorry, mom! Or should I say, Ivan?" Eduard howled with laughter, stomping up the stairs. He shouted something in Estonian, and then slammed his door.
"Kaip aš kada nors taikstytis su šiomis idiotai?" Toris muttered, pulling out his ponytail. "Anyway, Sergeant Kaczka and Ludwig may return to whatever they were doing. Gilbert, you stay here. And Ludwig, don't think you're free from punishment." Toris waved them off, grabbing Gilbert's sleeve to make sure he didn't run away with them.
Ever so slowly, Ludwig walked out of the building. The guard brushed past him, barking a few things in Polish. Ludwig shot back with a few of his own insults in German, to which the guard flicked his knife out of his belt loop and held it up for him to see. Then he slid the knife back in its place and stormed away on the worn path back to Bolesność.
"Hey, Ludwig!"
At the sound of his name, the German turned to find Eduard leaning out of his bedroom window. He was holding the flag in one hand and a pistol in the other.
"Here, take this. It's for your ritual, right?" He tossed the striped fabric at Ludwig. "Don't let Toris know I did that."
"Right. Thank you, Eduard," he said, puzzled. Wasn't he supposed to be in trouble for taking the flag?
"No trouble. Just don't do that again, okay? Tackling the guards, I mean. I would hate to have to actually punish you." Eduard waved goodbye with the pistol, shutting his window.
Now Ludwig was more confused than ever.
"Very good," Roderich said, taking the Lithuanian and Estonian flag from Ludwig's hands. "But where's Gilbert?"
"He's in the office right now. Toris kept him for punishment," Ludwig explained, sitting down on his cot.
"So does that count, then?" Roderich asked Ivan.
"The rules are that you have to get your flag back by any means. And giving it to your brother is a mean."
"But the rules also say you can't be caught," Yao added.
"True. But this is a special circumstance. So, seeing as I am the one who came up with the whole idea, I say that Gilbert is accepted," Ivan said with the tone of 'my word is final and you can't argue.' He eased himself onto his cot, holding his left leg up to his chest. The man appeared to suddenly be in an immense amount of pain, biting into his lower lip.
"Did you change the bandages recently?" Yao asked, putting one of his small hands on Ivan's massive paws.
"I'm fine. It's just acting up, that's all."
"Ivan, you're almost in tears."
"I said I was fine. You believe me, da?" Ivan snarled, but all of his intimidation was gone.
"Answer my question."
"What do you define as recently?" Ivan whimpered.
"Aiya! How do I ever put up with you? Here, let me see." Yao fished something out from Ivan's bag, pulling the Russian's hands away from his leg. Gently as to not put him in any more agony, Yao pulled up Ivan's pant leg to his knee. His entire calf was wrapped in filthy bandages with a dried brownish red stain on the left side. Yao began the delicate process of removing the bandages, stopping every time Ivan moaned or flinched.
When they were all finally removed, Ivan had told Yao to stop at least seven times, threated the poor man around fifteen, and nearly cried twice. Roderich was paying no attention to any of this; instead he was talking in a hushed voice to someone no one could see.
"Stop being such a baby." Yao sighed, stretching Ivan's leg straight. This caused more screaming and protests, which the Chinese ignored completely.
Ludwig was quite curious as to what could make Ivan act like he was dying from anguish. He slowly got up and went over to their cell, watching Yao examine Ivan's leg carefully.
"Did you come to help me, aru?" Yao glanced up at Ludwig, raising an eyebrow.
"If you need help."
"Right. Here, put this in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue like last time." He handed Ludwig a folded up scrap of cloth.
"No, I don't need it," Ivan snapped, crossing his arms.
"You want two wounds to deal with? Ludwig, just go ahead and put it in his mouth. He'll thank you later."
Ludwig did as he was told, then returned to Yao's side. Only now could he clearly see the wound that was causing so much pain for the Russian.
The affected area was only about the size of Ludwig's hand, but it was much worse than he thought. It looked like Ivan had stuck his leg in a fire for a good ten minutes, and then tried to heal the burn by gouging out the burnt skin with a spoon. Thankfully it seemed to have healed a bit since whenever it happened, but the wound was far from gone. The meat of his leg was exposed; the surrounding skin looked scaly and was caked with dried blood. How Ivan managed to walk and work with this was a mystery to Ludwig, but he definitely deserved more credit than he got.
"I need you to hold him down." Yao ordered, grabbing a half used roll of bandages from the bag.
"What….what happened?" Ludwig's voice was shaky as he spoke, pressing down on Ivan's shoulders.
"You know bomb stupid Americans drop? That doesn't just affect the land. Japan was the same way after…" Yao fell short. "It hurts the countries," he said, his voice barely audible. "It's the pains of their people and their land. This is minor compared to what Kiku had. But Ivan didn't do anything to provoke this…"
"Sorry, I don't mean to bring up any sore memories," Ludwig apologized.
"It's fine. Not your fault. Now, Roderich, would you go get me a wet washrag?"
"Ja," Roderich yawned. He grabbed a torn scrap of uniform from where they had been hung to dry and left. The Austrian reappeared a few minutes later, handing the sopping wet rag to Yao.
"Please tell me I don't have to help again." He shuddered, looking away from Ivan.
Yao tore the rag out of his hand, shoving him away. "I'm glad your littlest brother isn't such a pansy." He shook his head, looking over to Ludwig. "I'm going to start cleaning now. He'll try screaming and begging for you to stop, but don't listen. Just hold him down so we can get this over with faster, alright?"
Ludwig nodded, and then Yao said a quick apology to Ivan and started to wipe softly at his wound.
Ivan instantly began to scream, trying to break free from Ludwig's hold. The German felt like a monster for holding him down, but it had to be done. Russian and Mandarin pleas slurred together until they didn't sound like their original language anymore. Yao was shouting apologies, looking like every cry hurt him as much as it did Ivan.
"Yao…don't do this…to me!Aren't you…my…friend?!" He managed to say between screams.
"I'm sorry! Please, forgive me!" The Chinese man howled, flinching as Ivan cried out again.
"Lies! That's all…anyone ever does! Lies, lies, lies!" The Russian stopped begging for mercy like a scared boy and was now channeling his pain through anger.
He grabbed for Ludwig's throat, fingers twitching madly. A terrified Ludwig managed to get the man's hands held down, but not without a few claws at his chest from Ivan. His already cruel indigo eyes were alight with a new emotion – a combination of malice and bloodlust. Was this what the Baltics had seen when they lived with the madman? It was a look that could strike fear into the heart of any living being, and that's exactly what it was doing to Ludwig right now. He'd never accredited the Baltics for sharing a house with a man who should be locked up in a mental asylum.
"I think…it's in your…best interest to…let me go…da? You wouldn't want…to see what…happens if you don't," he spat, still struggling against Ludwig's hold. Now Ludwig was really terrified, trying to hold a homicidal man that could overpower him down.
"Hold on, we're almost done," Yao said, but Ludwig barely recognized his voice. He couldn't look away from Ivan, specifically his eyes. It was like he was being hypnotized, forced to focus on the blazing lavender eyes.
"I would…love to paint these…walls. It's so dull. My favorite color…is red. You know what else…is red…and is like paint? Your blood. It…would definitely be…very pretty. And every day I…could be reminded of…your suffering." Ivan somehow pulled off his signature childlike grin although he was on the verge of tears.
"Okay, we're good. When you release him, you'll want to run," Yao sighed, slowly backing away from the cot.
"Yes, do as he says. Let me go so I can rip you open," Ivan smirked, sending a chill down Ludwig's spine.
As fast as was humanly possible, Ludwig let go of Ivan and ran out of the cell. The Russian lunged after him, but Yao caught him and eased him back down.
"Thank you, Ludwig. I'm sorry. He didn't mean anything he said." Yao stroked Ivan's hair, trying to get him to calm down.
"See why I don't help anymore?" Roderich added. "Last time the brute broke my glasses."
"He's not a brute! You would be the same way if you were in that much pain!" Yao barked, glaring at Roderich how a mother bear would glare at another animal when protecting her cubs.
"Oh yes, right, he's misunderstood. Believe me, I understand savage and that man's crazy!" Roderich laughed.
"Who's crazy?" Basch asked, appearing in the doorway of the cell house.
"Ivan." Roderich answered.
"Oh, right. Nothing new then." He sauntered into the room, carrying a higher-than-thou air about himself. "And where's Gilbert?"
"Getting tortured by Toris. He got caught with the Estonian flag." Ludwig replied, realizing his hands were shaking.
"Ha, serves the bastard right."
Roderich stood up, walking over to Basch. He carefully examined him, walking in circles around the Swiss. "And if you're so great, then where's your flag?"
Basch went into Ivan and Yao's cell and grabbed the bag. He dug around in it for some time, finally removing a large maroon and white striped flag.
"Well, Fraulein Prissy Pants, if you were paying any attention I hid it in Ivan's bag. Hell, I should've taken some stuff too, seeing as none of you noticed."
"I ought to kill you," Roderich snapped, pulling Basch into a headlock. Basch scratched at his older brother's arm, obviously not as amused as the Austrian was.
"I'll do it for you!" Ivan offered loudly, his voice still laced with anger.
A/N: Scary Ivan is a fun Ivan. Sorry if he seems a bit out of character, I was trying my best to emulate how I feel he would be back in the old U.S.S.R. You know, absolutely terrifying.
Once again, I apologize for uploading a bit late. I was in the hospital Friday, Saturday we went out to eat with my family, and today we had to get Christmas pictures done. I'm so behind it's not even funny. And every time I try to write, Hogan's Heroes comes on and I stop whatever I'm doing. But hey, we're now farther than the original version was.
Shout out to LeShadowAce and StealthySparkles, I think those two are the only new followers. Thank you so much!
Translation note: Kaip aš kada nors taikstytis su šiomis idiotai? - How do I ever put up with these idiots?
Also, Kazcka means duck.
See you next chapter!