There was a handsome wooden clock on the wall, carved with intricate leaves and small hidden birds that seemed to peek out from behind polished wooden berries.

It was beautifully annoying - the clock that reminded Gilbert he was still awake.

His stomach felt twisted and uncomfortable from the realizations and traumas of the last few hours and the Prussian wondered what home and warmth and safety felt like. Of course, it had just been yesterday that he'd been in Berlin arguing with his brother. That worry-wort brother of his. Would he see Ludwig again?

Yesterday might as well be on the other side of the universe with the way he felt right now.

Because of a pain in his leg and quiet shuffling of renegade soldiers moving to and fro through the small house and the ticking of a rustic clock on the wall and a million horrible nightmares waiting at the edge of his mind he couldn't sleep. So finally giving up on the whole endeavor he pulled himself to his aching feet and hobbled over toward the door at the end of the hall. He hadn't been in there since a few hours ago when he'd found a nice corner to hole up in so he could at least have a mental breakdown in relative peace. Gilbert was still angry it had happened in the first place - he was supposed to be strong. If he couldn't be there for...

He paused at the door.

Yeah. My kids...they're my kids now. Great...should I laugh or cry? I don't have a fucking clue.

There was no escaping it; Prussia was back - but in terrible danger of either being wiped off the face of the earth in the blink of an eye or ending up transformed into a dark menace that would terrify the world once more. Either situation seemed to inevitably end up with his newest kids dead.

Sliding open the heavy door, Gilbert peeked in. His crimson eyes glanced from side to side, taking in the sight of the injured soldiers sleeping as well as could be imagined after their harrowing disaster.

Adler was carefully tucked into the only bed in the house, the medic half-asleep at his side. The man startled a bit, nearly losing his glasses when he realized someone had entered the room, but upon seeing Gilbert he merely nodded and closed his eyes again - only staying awake long enough to make sure his most important patient was still alive.

The blonde woman was perched on the other side of the bed, sleeping fitfully with one hand on the Generals chest as if to keep watch in her dreams. Gilbert couldn't help but notice how most of those assembled had their backs to the bed as if standing guard.

From behind him the door opened and Volker entered, whispering something back to the old woman behind him.

He looks like shit. Dear God, he shouldn't even be walking! Didn't he get shot?

Volker, with only a curt nod to Gilbert, hobbled his way through the tangle of sleeping bodies toward Adler - exchanging quick and low words with the medic before moving to wake his commander. The woman on the other end of the bed woke before Adler did, growling just as the injured General opened his eyes.

"Hey boss. News from the front."

Adler gave a coughing laugh. "It's time isn't it?"

"It's started to snow. We've got about an hour before police arrive so we need to move now."

"I understand. You and Gjord know what to do. Get everyone up - those who can't move need to be carried."

"Of course, sir."

Gilbert helped as best he could. Volker communicated in Polish with the old woman, speaking low and comfortingly as the soldiers filed out of her home. Though she seemed relieved there was a hint of anxiety in her body. The Prussian understood enough of her native tongue to know she was worried not about herself but rather the wounded and weary who would only face the cruel cold of winter on the other side of the door. But Adler had a plan - or rather, Gjord had the plan and Adler reluctantly agreed to it.

Trampling away from the safe-house, a few of the healthier soldiers filled in the single-file tracks with snow - trusting the freshly fallen powder cover them. They had those who were healthy enough jog backwards down the road, and then forwards to the rest of the group as often as they could while the injured hobbled away from the small home in an effort to get a good head-start on their healthier members.

The plan was simple: convince the police that they'd walked the entire way without stopping - especially not at an old house where an old woman had helped them.

Gilbert cracked a slight smile in remembrance of Gjord's heavily accented words.

"We can't let 'er take th' blame f'r us. Not w'th Sword."

That much they could all agree to. The police would only arrest the old woman - Sword would torture and then kill her if they got half the chance.

As they made their way out; covering their tracks, they hit the solid ground of the road and began walking along it away from the house.

True to Volker's prediction, about fifty or so minutes later a scout flagged the lead group as government and police vehicles approached. With a deep breath the General stopped a moment to survey his troops, and then turned to the men at his side.

"Will you all be alright?" Adler asked, voice low and serious as he whispered to Volker who only chuckled.

"Of course, I'm going with you."

"The hell you are!" Adler snapped, humor now gone. "You're injured!"

"So are you."

"You know I can't leave!" The leader hissed. Now the scouts were disappearing into the forest, urging the small party that would carry on to do the same. Gilbert grit his teeth and grabbed the hesitant General by his shoulder. As much as he didn't want to be the bad guy here they simply didn't have time.

"Adler." Gilbert spoke stiffly. "Look. We need to get out of here if we're going. Alright?"

With glowering pale brown eyes the man stared at him only a minute before nodding.

"Ja. Alright." After a slight pause he spoke out to the soldiers assembled. "I want every one of you to co-operate with the police. They have rules, laws. While I doubt you'll be treated with enthusiastic joy at least you won't die under their watch."

The lot chuckled wryly, trying to keep their spirits up.

"Get out of here." One of the injured - a young man of twenty or so waved his commander on. "If you're caught with us those assholes get Prussia."

Gilbert flinched, acknowledging that statement was all too true on too many uncomfortable levels.

Adler noticed and nodded. "Right. Gjord, Gilbert, Dietrich, Hedda...and you as well Volker. God knows you'll follow me even if I tell you to stay."

"Damn right." Volker growled as he staggered forward as best he could.

As the police closed in on the shuffling, shambling crowd that forged on through the deepening snow a small group of five disappeared into the woods - tracks carefully hidden. From a safe vantage Adler watched with saddened eyes as his forces were surrounded. Each soldier raised their hands in surrender to the best of their ability - accepting their capture without question just as he had ordered.

Gilbert felt a twisting in his own stomach that he could only guess was similar to what the messy haired General beside him was experiencing. While he was glad that they would be in custody and at least cared for it didn't ease the burden that he now felt land squarely on those left.

When the two scouts rejoined their party the seven set off into the lightening Polish forest.

The sun was rising.

It was a short but sweet text from his boss man. They'd managed to round up a group of soldiers (some old woman had called the police apparently) and had them in custody.

"Though that's totally weird about that house my kids found..." Feliks mused.

The man on the other end of the line sighed. "From what the prisoners have stated the murders were committed by a splinter cell of their group. A civil war between factions as it were. Looks like the guys caught in Germany and the group responsible for the burned out farmhouse are in on it together."

"Man...so they're totally not above taking out their own guys then?"

"I don't think the ones we picked up are 'their own'. From the way the suspects tell it this 'Sword' faction is a little...fascist. To hear these guys talk sounds like Sword walked right out of the Third Reich and right into our back yard. They'll bring hell into this world if they get the chance."

Feliks scowled. "We won't give them the chance. So what does that make this Shield group then?"

The voice on the other end of the line sighed. "They're full of fight themselves. They want to re-establish the nation of Prussia. Though it seems they dislike the idea of killing civilians or using genocide to do it - so they're at least human compared to Sword faction."

Feliks nodded to the phone. "Thank you for keeping me informed."

"Of course, sir."

The blonde clacked the phone closed as he waited outside of Germany's house.

So, like. These two groups are fighting over control of Prussia? Like, this is totally going to get annoying. I mean, Prussia's only a dick most of the time. The other, like, ten percent he's just a moron. This is totally going to suck. But then again, I'd rather have a totally open and democratic idiot for a neighbor then a re-creation of that.

Feliks suppressed a shiver. It must be the cold air. Really.

So Sword factions going all fascist and junk and Shield faction is actually getting the crap kicked out of them while totally trying to protect some of my civilians - despite the fact that they were totally for breaking the law too and trying to give weird human-nation birth to Prussia and where the heck is GERMANY?

"Like, hurry up! It's totally freezing out here!" Feliks yelled at the front door of the house. He would have loved to be invited in like a normal human being but Ludwig was all "I'll be right back so stay here and don't go into the flower-bed."

What was he, a stray? Sit and stay?

Like, fuck that.

So with only a moments glance to check the scene Feliks opened the front door and peeked inside. The house was warm, the smell of a fire filling his nostrils as he stood with his head just over the threshold. After another minute he had stepped in completely to thoroughly enjoy the warmth of the home. From outside the house had looked ominous with its old fashioned crossed beams design but now Feliks could see it was quite comfortable - something he hadn't really expected. He wasn't really sure what he had expected actually. It's just that comfortable and Germany didn't really mesh in his mind.

That thought faded away as he walked softly down the narrow entryway and followed the hall further into the house. There were pictures on the wall of his all too weird family, the same as in almost any home you walked into.

There were pictures of Gilbert annoying Ludwig, Gilbert annoying Roderick, Gilbert annoying Elizaveta, Elizaveta hitting Gilbert with a frying pan.

"Like, awesome." Feliks snickered on the last image. Moving away from the family photos the Pole peeked around a corner, finding himself staring right into the kitchen. He could smell a hint of bread and surprisingly cake.

"I didn't figure Germany to be one for sweets." Feliks murmured. He felt a bit bad about wandering into the Germans kitchen but hey, if the guy had invited him in he'd stick to lounging on his couch instead.

A whine at his leg caught his attention - nearly making him jump a foot in the air.

A slightly pudgy German Shepherd wagged its tail and begged with its deep brown eyes for attention.

"Oh...hey." Feliks recovered quickly upon realizing the worst this furry friend might do is cover him in drool. "Like, you're totally a sweetheart you know that?" The young man cooed to the animal as he scratched him behind the ears and under his chin. Taking a moment to latch onto the tags, Feliks turned it up to read.

"Your name is...Blackie. Well hi there!" He laughed, holding out a hand and to his amazement the dog shook it.

"No way! You can shake!" Feliks giggled, wide eyed. Another cold nose bumped him from the side and he found himself nearly toppled by a tail-wagging golden retriever.

"Ah! Hey there big guy! I'm getting, like, mobbed by fur-balls!"

Soon both dogs were rolling on the floor - overjoyed to be getting so much attention. As he had with Blackie, Feliks checked the retriever's tags.

"And you are...Aster. Nice to meet you. You're totally a cutie." At this the man sighed. "You know, I never thought Ludwig would have dogs like you. You two are total pushovers...and kind of pudgy. But that's, like, totes cool though. I mean, I remember-"

A sharp snarl broke the idyllic mood; causing both dogs to jump up and move back. Feliks looked from one to the other, wondering which one had growled but a second growl made him turn his eyes to the kitchen door where a third dog stood - it's lithe and muscular body rigid and nearly trembling with energy. The Doberman lifted its lips in a snarl. Feliks chuckled nervously.

"Oh...hey Berlitz..."

The dog lunged forward, mouth gaping as it attacked. Feliks leapt, jumping as high as he could right as the dog reached him, causing it to skid past on the kitchen floor and into the counter behind him. Two steps and Feliks was thrown to the ground, a searing pain in his leg as the dog clamped on and began pulling him back into the room.

"GET OFF!" Feliks yelled, glaring green eyes locking with Berlitz's a second before he kicked the dog in the ribs, causing it to yelp and release his leg. Feliks threw himself forward in an attempt to escape the dog. With a loud snarl the animal lunged at him again, sharp teeth ready to tear out his throat.

"HALT!"

The dog stopped so quick it skidded a moment on the tile floor, it's jaws shutting with an audible chomp as it dropped to the floor - looking even more confused than Feliks.

Ludwig stood at the door, breathing like he'd run a marathon. Feliks reasoned he might have - he had no idea where the man had been.

Hence, why he'd gone into the house and gotten attacked by psycho-dog.

As the injured nation sat up he felt Ludwig's gaze on him. Feliks could tell he was angry from the way he didn't say anything - his unusual stiffness. The dog was still growling behind him but Feliks didn't want to look.

With a heavy sigh Ludwig knelt down. Slowly he lifted the left leg of Feliks' trousers; the one Berlitz had caught hold of and was now bleeding profusely.

"This might need stitches. I'll bandage it for now but I'll need to call the doctor."

"No!" Feliks shouted suddenly, and then looked away with a guilty expression.

"I mean...it's just a dog bite and I'm a nation so it's totally cool."

Ludwig scowled. "It is not 'cool'. You're injured and need medical assistance."

"So..." The Polish man grumbled. "Can't you just, like, slap a wrap on it or something? I mean, we can't go to the E.R."

"No." Ludwig nodded, further examining the wound. The nation lightly examined the tears in the skin and Feliks winced slightly. "I have my own private doctor not far from here. He can treat you."

"I don't need it."

"You're bleeding all over my tile!"

"I'll buy you new tile!"

"Feliks!" Suddenly Ludwig sighed. "Look. I know you may not like doctors but just this once you should be fine."

The small blond looked continued to stare at his leg. "It's not doctors...it's just..."

With his explanation trailing off into a bare whisper Ludwig slowly came to focus all his attention on the young man. It took only a moment to realize it wasn't what Feliks was saying but what he wouldn't. Heaving a resigned groan he shifted then lifted Feliks off of the ground.

"AAHH!"

"Shut up. If you won't go to the hospital I have no choice but to dress it here. There is nothing stronger than aspirin in the house so you'll just have to grin and bear the stitches."

For a moment Feliks was silent, and then he nodded with a slight smile. "Like yeah. You're supposed to be my bodyguard and all. You got to make up for the sucky job you've been doing so far."

"I reserve the right to drop you on your ass at any time."

"I'll totally kick you in the shins if you do."

"Annoying little..." Ludwig grumbled, carrying the man out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. "If you stained my floor there'll be hell to pay."

Ludwig stiffened, wanting to bite his tongue the moment the words slipped out. He hadn't really been thinking about who he was speaking to, but he'd said those words before under very different circumstances. Cautiously, Ludwig glanced over to catch Feliks' expression.

The man in his arms had an almost indescribable face. His wide emerald eyes were latched onto Ludwig's and he was so still the German doubted he was even breathing. Then a shaky smile crossed the Poles face.

Feliks flicked Ludwig off. "Yeah. Like, bring it bitch."

It was utterly absurd, the last time they'd had this exact exchange it had been deadly serious - but now...

Feliks started giggling. Before long he was laughing out loud and even Ludwig had cracked a wary grin. Once they made it to the bathroom Feliks sat on the sink while his strange attendant carefully cleaned and stitched the wound. With his hours of practice, Ludwig managed to finish quickly and the moment the bandage was set he stood.

The doorbell interrupted the steady silence and Ludwig moved to answer it.

"I'm closing the door if that's alright with you." He stated, seeming almost sheepish. Too polite. "That's probably Feliciano. In fact...that's definitely Feliciano. I'll be back in a moment."

"Like, sure." Feliks snorted, waving him on. "Go on. Get to it errand-boy."

Ludwig scowled but left. Feliks sighed. Pulling his legs up to his chest he let go of the breath he felt he'd been holding all this time.

"Freaking stupid..." He mumbled, as he stifled a slight sniffle.

As Ludwig passed the kitchen something caught his eye.

While the other two dogs looked on in confusion, Berlitz lay like a statue fixed to the ground. Only his dark eyes moved to look up at Ludwig questioningly, as if afraid to make direct contact. Slowly, the tall man knelt by the dog and patted him gently on his dark head.

"Alright. I know." He cooed softly. "You made a mistake. I made a mistake for not training that back out of you. You're still a good dog Berlitz."

The Doberman wagged his stub tail, the sparkle returning to his eyes as Ludwig motioned for him to get up. Leading him out to the open yard the German sighed.

"You're a good dog; you just learned some bad tricks."

With the dogs in the yard Ludwig answered the door, nearly bowled over by an over-eager Italian.

"Ludwig! What took so long? Oh? Where are the puppies?"

Ludwig pried the small brunette off of him. "Outside. Poland's here."

"So you agreed to be his bodyguard?"

The taller man stared with mouth open at his friend who only skipped past.

"Poland! Poland! Let's go shopping ve~!"

Feliciano threw open the bathroom door, smiling happily at Feliks who sat on the sink, swinging his legs idly.

"Like, hey there."

"So you really are here then! I wasn't so sure because of everything Mr. Austria told you last time. Do you really want Ludwig to be your bodyguard?"

Feliks' smile slipped only a second. "Sure..."

"That's wonderful!" The Italian shouted, once again forgetting to use his inside voice. "Ludwig's big and strong and kind and-"

"Feliciano." Ludwig sternly interrupted from behind the smaller man. "Calm down and stop yelling."

For a moment the Italian paused, then smiled. "He's super nice - even if he never smiles."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. Returning to his most pressing concern the small brunette waved his arms frantically, nearly hitting both Feliks and Ludwig in the process.

"So you'll go shopping with me? It'll be really really fun! I know all the best shops around here! So pleeaaasee!"

Feliks chuckled. "I'd totally like that Feli but I totes can't just yet. I had a bit of an accident."

For the first time the Italian took notice of the blondes' bandaged leg. He stared at it in curiosity for a moment before looking up, now much more subdued. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Ludwig moved Feliciano out of the room. "Berlitz got a bit too wound up. That's why the dogs are in the yard."

"Really?" the normally happy male whispered. "But I always play with Berlitz and I never get hurt."

The look that passed from Feliks to Ludwig was missed by the Italian who had wandered down the hall.

"I wonder why." Feliks gritted his teeth as he was helped out the door by his new bodyguard.

Ludwig didn't say a word.

After long negotiation ( re. whining ) by the nation of Italy the three made their way to the nearest shopping district. With an abundant source of cash - Germany - and a free run of the stores they soon forgot all of their cares. Ludwig followed the two in an effort to do his newly appointed task of providing security for the nation of Poland but found more often than not that the two were actively hiding from him.

"Where are you two? This is not funny! Come out! Where in the world are they?"

Safe inside the dressing rooms the two listened as Ludwig searched the racks outside.

"Ve~ Ludwig sounds grumpy."

"Like, don't even worry. Just try this on," Feliks ordered, throwing a dress over the top of the stall. "He'll totally go nuts when he sees you in this."

"Really? That might be really funny!" Feliciano laughed. "But I haven't worn anything like this in centuries! Ve~"

"All the more reason to wear it." Feliks encouraged him. "You, like, totally got to look fabulous now and then and you can totally pull that color off."

"Okay. Hey, Feliks?"

"Yeah?" The Pole called back, trying on a totally rockin' skirt of his own. It was soo stylish! He loved the flowers!

"Is your leg okay?"

The mans smile slipped a bit but he mustered up an enthusiastic voice. "Yeah. You know, dogs just act weird sometimes."

"Really weird." Feliciano called back. "I've never had trouble with Berlitz...well...only once. Right before the end of the war."

At this the Italian did something amazing. He stopped talking.

Feliks waited for a continuation of a story that never came. Slipping out of his stall he walked over to the Italians and knocked on the door. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, wondering how it ended up with him comforting Feliciano. Slowly the door opened and the young man nodded, light brown eyes now open for a rare spell as he waved his fellow nation into the stall.

With his leaf green dress and golden flower band Feliciano looked every bit the gentle-lady. Well, except his hairy legs. Feliks made a mental note to get stockings before they left the store.

The small man frowned. "You know, at the end of the war a lot of stuff happened. In the end I had to turn away from Ludwig. Germany and Italy couldn't be friends anymore. That was...really hard for me to do." Feliciano sighed. "That entire war I was useless, I couldn't help at all! The only thing I did good at was turning on my best friend. I was only good at betraying Ludwig. And I know it really hurt him."

Twisting the ends of his dress, Feliciano paused only a moment.

"That was when Berlitz became really mean to me. He wouldn't let me near Ludwig's house. He chased me away and tried to bite me. But he never actually did. He mostly just barked a lot and was really scary."

Feliciano turned to look at his northern neighbor with serious eyes.

"I've never seen Berlitz bite anyone - well except big brother France - but he always did that; just on the butt though. You're the only person I've seen him actually try to hurt. It's kind of scary. Why don't you and Berlitz get along?"

Feliks sighed. He had hoped the conversation wouldn't come to him. So much for luck.

"Feli. We just...like...have a history together. Not a good one either. We totes tried to kill each other back then - during the war." At this Feliciano frowned in confusion. Feliks sighed.

"I shot Berlitz - when Germany was trying to track me down and destroy the last of my army. He totally ran up on our hiding place and it was the only thing I could do at the time."

"So..." Feliciano mused. "He doesn't like you because you shot him?"

"He didn't like me before then. It just, like, made him madder."

"So why didn't he like you before?"

Feliks moved from the wall, turning in a slow circle as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"Because Germany trained him to not like me! He trained him to kill me if he got the chance. Because that's what his boss wanted! He just...never got rid of the training that's all. I haven't exactly been around Germany's house since the war."

Feliciano stood, serious and somber for a rare moment in time.

"It's because of what Ludwig's boss were trying to do back then?" Suddenly the Italian flopped onto the seat at the back of the dressing room. "It's sad. I don't like to think about the past because so many bad things happened then."

Then the man smiled. "Hey! We can untrain Berlitz! Then you can play with him! He's a really good getter! He runs really fast after balls and sticks and stuff! He's really fast!"

Feliks chuckled wryly. "I know. He's like super fast. But I'm faster and I can prove it." With a sigh the Polish man peeked out the door. "I think we better get going. Germany's totally going to blow a gasket in a minute. Plus - we look totally cute!"

"Yep! Let's go show him!"

"Alright!"

Hearing a clatter Ludwig turned towards the dressing rooms.

"Ah! Show yourselves!" He yelled, making the store-clerk look up in annoyance.

"Quiet down." She ordered.

Ludwig was undeterred as he stared at the entryway. Feliciano and Feliks appeared, two fashionista's in short skirts and flirty heels.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Feliciano wore his one piece pale green dress with a daisy yellow hair-band and sash around the waist that tied in an adorable bow in the back. His pretty pink and gold stockings sprouted from shiny green heels. Feliks on the other hand wore a hot-pink mini-skirt with a pair of white tights matching a pair of white ankle boots and a white sweater that slipped off of one shoulder - revealing the strap of a pink bra beneath.

"Ta da! How do we look?" The two asked, hopping around.

Tomatoes are red, but Feliciano noted that not near as red as Ludwig's face at that moment. Suddenly the bodyguard stammered something incomprehensible and turned tail and fled.

Feliks shrugged. "Didn't like it huh?"

Feliciano laughed. "Of course he did! Ludwig's face only goes that red when he sees something that makes him really really happy!"

The Polish man laughed. "Really?"

"Yep!" Feliciano giggled as they walked to the counter. "He does that a lot sometimes when he looks at pretty girls or something."

For a moment Feliks blushed as he realized that Ludwig's actions put him and Feliciano in the 'pretty' category. Then he paused.

Germany thinks I'm pretty...he's very very 'happy'.

EEEEEWWWWWWWWW!

"Ve~ Feliks' what's wrong? Why does your face look like that?"

Authors note:

It took me entirely too long to get back to this. World events need to stop getting in the way of my fanfiction. ~.~

Thanks to everyone still reading this! I'm so sorry to keep you waiting this long!

Poland: Yeah, that's totally not nice.