MW: So many people reviewed~! Note to self: kill off cannon characters causes an increase in reviews. I shall remember that for future stories.

SEK and BFTL: WOLF!

MW: Sorry! Anyways, we're all here—the epilogue. Holy crap, seriously? It feels like yesterday I started this.

Due to the fact that I want to leave you guys with a 'lingering thought', both ANs are going to be compacted into the top one here. So let's get started.

First off: I would like to thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Please stay tuned for the ending omake.

SEK: That's right. If you guys have drawn fan art, the please send us your prompts. All fan art for the contest is due March 18, 2012. As stated before, that is a week after this publication. All art submitted afterwards will not be put up for the one-shot prize. Prompts submitted after that date will be considered 'invalid'.

MW: The prompts are a good way to get me to write anything you wanted (but didn't) see in the story. But for everyone else who aren't doing that, I have something for you all. If there is any question you want us to answer, just send it to us somehow and we'll answer it in the omake. Doesn't have to be HETA related. Heck, you can ask me what color my underwear is and I'll tell you.

SEK: Trying desperately to make the omake interesting?

MW: Yup. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the ending~! Tell me if you do or don't!

BFTL: I would like to dedicate this chapter to an apple pie SEK burned while proofing this chapter. Rest in peace Mr. Pie.

Chapter Summary: We see everyone's life through out the years

Warnings: Language, Violence, Dark/Angsty Themes, and Death

Disclaimer: Even now, I still have no ownership of Hetalia.

~Epilogue~

From Today and Forever Onward

April 16, 1944

The Cemetery

The black, looming clouds above us released a rain that fell in a fine mist. Today was the day we- just Ludwig and I -buried what remained of Gilbert: a metal box filled with dirt. To tradition, we were burying him where his capital used to be: Berlin.

The Allied and neutral nations didn't trust going to their enemy's homeland and Roderich was caring for Elizaveta. Unlike the Prussian, all the other infected nations survived the poison. Yao had discovered a method for ridding it from the body: replace the infected blood. The process was long, painful, and left its patients frail, but they'll live.

But Gilbert didn't.

I stood to the side, holding the umbrella over Ludwig as he covered the grave with dirt. He insisted on burying his brother himself. Mud covered the ends of his black slacks and sweat trimmed his brow. As he continued to fill the hole, there still was a pained look on his face. It reminded me of myself when my father died: unsure of whom to blame.

He could blame Rosa for shooting him. Heilrich for not stopping her. He could blame me for letting the nation go in first. He could blame Yao for accidently creating the poison in the first place. Most importantly, he could blame himself for not protecting him. For treating him like trash.

I pulled at the sleeves of my black dress. I wish I would have remembered to wear a sweater today. But there were more important things for me to remember. Like I remembered the moment Yao declared Gilbert dead.

I remembered immediately running down the steps to him, ignoring my brother's confused cries.

I remembered pushing away the crowding nations to see Ludwig leaning over the corpse as Heilrich and Feli held each other, crying.

I remembered Ludwig holding Gilbert's cold, limp hand and asking him questions he could never respond to.

I remembered him scolding Gilbert, demanding he stop pretending.

I remembered myself and the nations not having the heart to stop him.

I remembered Ludwig instead insisting that his brother had just fainted.

I remembered when he placed a hand on his cold cheek the worst thing happened.

I remembered watching Gilbert's body crumble into Prussian dirt.

I remembered the horrified look on our faces as the realization hit us. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia, has died and returned to the origin of every nation: Dirt. Land. Earth.

From there, everything moved by fast. There was a large service at an English chapel that every nation attended.

I remembered stepping inside the church with David and seeing the crowded pews. There was one particular row I saw Arsenius and- what I was after told -the other ancients. They were there to make sure the service kept to tradition.

The representation of Germania ran it, guiding us in prayers. We even sang the Prussian national anthem. The box with the dirt remains was decorated with cornflowers, his national flower. It felt as though that was the saddest day of our lives.

Less than a day later, Ludwig, Elizaveta, Roderich, and I packed our bags and returned to Germany. I had to; I was still the maid. David joined forces with Francis and Lovino and traced our other bastard ancestor. They even had Yao check his blood to see what extent his mutation went to.

Luckily, he can only heal himself. He will still age and (most importantly) die. My brother also took official custody of Caroline and Edward and was looking for a house in Italy somewhere.

"At least he's not dead," I thought, watching Ludwig pat the mound of dirt smooth. "I guess I'm lucky that way." Ludwig wiped his head and placed his shovel to the side. He stood motionlessly, staring at his work.

Emotions ran across his face. Sorrow, exhaustion, anger; they all swirled together in a painting of guilt. The man's blue eyes shimmered with tears that yearned to be shed. That small, caring part of myself ordered me to comfort him. But I couldn't. There was nothing I could think of to say.

Ludwig made a noise that sounded like a sigh mixed with a chuckle. "It's ironic," he muttered. "Because of me, hundreds of unmarked mass graves have been dug. Yet when I dig a single grave for someone I treated like trash-" He pointed exasperatedly at the gravestone. "-We don't even get his name right."

I knew what he meant. Engraved on the stone was his brother's human name, year of death, and the Prussian motto: "Suum cuique". No mention of his status of country. No mention on how awesome he was. He was just another fake name on a stone.

Slowly and carefully, I wrapped a single arm around the nation's shoulder. "I know," was the only thing I could say. We stood in dead air, watching the grave intently. "You know, it's alright to cry."

"Only the weak cry," Ludwig replied, not even bothering to look at me. "And mein bruder would not want me to be weak."

For a second, I had nothing to say. But the sage I was becoming shone and I responded, "On the contrary. A strong man admits his feelings because he knows that it'll only make him stronger."

"But I'm not strong!" His volume made me jump, but I didn't move my arm. Tears brim around the blond's eyes before spilling down his face. By his expression, I could tell he was trying his hardest not to. "I'm weak! I let mein bruder die!" He yelled, sobs racking his body. "What kind of pathetic being am I if I allow something like that to happen?"

"It's not your fault," I replied, feeling my own tears start. "If all this taught me something it's that there are some things you just can't change."

Ludwig didn't say anything. Instead, he bowed his head in a hopeless attempt to hide his face. The small, caring part of me called out again and I found myself closing the umbrella and hugging the German. Surprisingly, he embraced me back.

For that single moment, we weren't two enemies. We didn't hold some unspeakable grudge against each other. No, at that moment, we were two people who were mourning a dear friend, a dear brother.

I realized something and smiled. "You want to know something Ludwig?" I asked, still holding him.

"Ja?"

"You're crying."

"Do not rub it in."

I shook my head. "No what I mean is: you have a free will."

He pulled me away from him and held me an arm's length away. "What does me crying have to do with that?" he demanded, looking slightly confused.

"Politically speaking, it would have been a blessing if Gilbert had died," I said. "There would have been no representation of East Germany to place hold on any of your government's decisions. It's better for you that he died."

Ludwig wasted no time in slapping me across the face. "Don't say things like that!" He snarled, glaring at me murderously.

I rubbed my cheek. At least I saw that coming. "There's my point!" I exclaimed. "Because you care so much that your brother is dead, you have a free will!" His blue eyes grew wide in realization. "You're not a mindless drone!"

I imagined his jumping up and down in relief and hugging me in happiness. But that didn't happen. Instead, sorrow over came him. "And it only took Prussia's death," he muttered. He bit his lip and clenched his fist. "And I could have stopped this damn war whenever I wanted to. I could have stopped myself from hurting Italy. I'm. . ." Ludwig fell to his knees in defeat. "I'm a ficken monster!" he screamed, punching the ground. His tears of sadness were replaced with tears of frustration.

I knelt next to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. "You know that's not true," I said. I should have added something else to support my statement, but I was at a loss for words.

"Yes it is," the nation said, hitting the ground again. "Everyone believes it. America, Italy, Holy Rome- and Gottverdammt! Even Prussia! They all think I'm monsters."

"Nein, I don't." We both paused. That voice, it couldn't be. "Since you're my little bruder, that makes you awesome." Slowly, we turned our faces towards the grave. Sitting on the gravestone, looking perfectly healthy and content was Gilbert. "Not a monster."

The platinum blond smirked down at us, wearing his blue military uniform. There was even a tall glass of beer in his hands. How was he . . . ? Ludwig slowly stood. Jaw touching the ground, he extended a hand to the other's face.

It went straight through. What the hell?

"I'm too awesome for hell so I went to heaven," Gilbert said, shrugging off our stunned faces. "But Gott couldn't stand how awesome I am, so he sent me back here."

"You're a ghost!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. I swiped an experimental arm through where his chest should have been. Like before, it went straight through. An undeniable chill ran through my body. "You look so solid," I said. "Aren't ghosts supposed to be transparent?"

Gilbert took a long drink. "I don't know," he said. "The awesome me has never met one before."

Ludwig took a step forward. Zombie-like, he hugged the air around his dead brother. "Es tut mir leid," he said, ignoring the chill that ran through his own body. "I'm sorry I let this happen to you."

The ghost threw his head back and laughed "Keseses~! Are you kidding? This is the best thing that could have ever happened to me!"

"What?"

"Look at this!" The glass of beer in his hands disappeared and his outfit changed to that of a formal suit. "I'm so awesome, I can summon things like that. Plus, I can now spy on Hungary in the shower!"

Both of us were too relived to smack our foreheads. Instead, we opened the umbrella and walked away from the gravestone. The two brothers conversed fondly, as if they hadn't seen each other in years. There was a bubble of happiness swelling inside of my bosom. I looked up at the clouds.

At that moment I knew. I had my whole life ahead of me- a long, long life.

Unlike the countries, I can live the life I wanted. I can move to America, marry the man of my dreams, and have children. I can stand on the front porch and watch the love of my life skip to school each day. I will celebrate every year they grow older until they move far away from me. All the while, I will age and die. People will mourn, before resuming the wheel of time. It will turn on and on and on and on.

Nowhere in this cycle were the HETAs ever to exist.

The nations will stay youthful forever. They will watch from the sidelines as their citizens and bosses age and die. They have attended a thousand funerals and a thousand more they will see. Even with a poison, they will not die. Because of that, there was no circle for them- only a line that went on until they themselves fall. But as Gilbert proved, there was still a way to get around that.

"It's as if they're an abomination to nature," I thought. "As if they were God's one mistake." Carefully, I stopped and opened my coat pocket and pulled out my leather bound book. But in the same way, there were the most human people I've ever met.

There was the simple love Feli felt for the world.

Ludwig's desire to be a man of his own free will.

Alfred and Japan's ability to overcome the politics around them in an odd "Romeo and Juliet" scenario.

The bitter-sweet-and-brotherly-love Arthur harbors for his younger brother.

A long lasting love that Francis feels for the one meaningful woman in his existence.

The superior knowledge that Yao must deal with every pasting century.

Ivan with his simple, childish facade and his promise to kill me.

Antonio's unconditional love he feels for the secretly lonely Lovino.

The uncertain years Gilbert spent searching for his older brother.

The odd rivalry between Heracles and Sadiq- one the Turk can easily put aside to do what he believes is right.

The love Elizaveta and Roderich feel for each other through the passing centuries.

With such a strange cast of characters, the book in my hands didn't matter. Without much thought, I tore the pages out and dropped into the mud. I watched them as they soaked and became unreadable. I stomped them in deeper, destroying the story of the HETA boy and his human friend. Who needed them when you had the countries of the world?

The rain fell harder as Ludwig and Gilbert continued on without me. It made me wonder, "Where do I fit into this?" I already knew the answer.

The truth was, I never did. And I never will. Annabel Milano Henson: the girl taught to believe in monsters. The girl sent to destroy them. The girl they never should had met. The girl whom should had never known about them. David and I are just worthless pawns in this game of chess.

Much like the ones I would play with Dad in our spare time. I ducked out from under the umbrella and lifted my head to the sky. The rain pelted my face, making me feel calmer than I thought possible. I left the pages behind, never giving it a second thought as I ran to the two men farther ahead.

Along the way, I found myself speaking to the rain, imagining my parents in the drops. "Hey Mom, hey Dad," I said. "It's all over now, isn't it?"

Their imaginary voices responded in my head: "Do you believe it is?"

I bit my lip. Is it? Is it truly over? There was only one way for that to happen and it won't come for years to come. I've know it all along; so has the world.

The rain hit the ground and into a puddle. They disappeared immediately- like a human life. I reached our car and placed a hand on the metal hand.

"Not yet," I whispered. "Not yet."

Not hearing what I said, Ludwig snapped for me to hurry up. I hurried and climbed inside, continuing on with my life.

July 30, 1948

Berlin, Germany

I looked out the window. The crowded streets of Berlin passed by me slowly. The traffic was heavy, dealing with the mass population of German citizens. Even with most of the city in ruins after the battle for Berlin, there was still the ability of slow moving traffic. The city's sad state was almost in tone to the day's event: Me, leaving the countries for good.

I admit, it was not the perfect ending. In an ideal world, I would have stayed at Ludwig's Berlin home forever. Cleaning the floors, avoiding his stupid muts, testing his guns; the ideal utopia. But I've known all along that I could not stay forever. It was simply impossible.

Two years ago, the war ended with V-J day. Kiku and Ludwig were both weak and skeleton-like. I knew from reports that the island nation was suffering from radiation poisoning after having two atomic bombs dropped on him.

The German- on the other hand -had to deal with his lands being separated and controlled by the Allies. At the same time, he had to comb his government of war criminals and sentence them to justice. The burdern rested heavily on his stressed shoulders. He could barely get out of bed and go to his desk each morning.

Out of sheer pity, I chose to ignore the end of my contract and stay an extra two years to help him. I kept the house, made him wurst, and filed official documents. Over time, Elizaveta and Rodderich returned to their own homes. They were no longer the Axis Powers- they had no reason to stay.

Gilbert would leave for months at a time, seeing his friends and the world. He claimed that even though he couldn't touch anything, he was able to lead a normal human life. And when he was home, he would cause a fraught of mischief. Many times, when I was in the shower, he would stick his head through the wall to watch me.

Anyways, Ludwig also lost control of every nation he occupied. Nations such as Matthais, Francis, and Feliks were allowed to leave his basement and return to their homes. That left the German and me alone.

We only made occasional small talk. We both knew it would be foolish to let our disagreement rule our lives at such a time, so we simply barely talked to each other. In a sense, we 'agreed to disagree'.

I barely spoke during the course of those two years. When I did, it was either when David, Caroline, and Edward would call me from Italy, Ludwig found something important to say, or there was a visit from another country. There were a few whom did. Feli and Elizaveta were good candidates. They always added a sense of warmth to the house.

There was, of course, when Heilrich decided to give his younger brother a little support. Those were very tense visits- especially since no English was spoken during the static filled German. But on the brighter side, I was starting to understand a little German.

Lovino, finally fully recovered, decided to visit me once. We ended up spending his birthday in Italy together; a little grandfather/daughter bonding time. That was the only vacation I took, if you can even call it that.

Then there were the times when the Allies came to 'check up' on their charge. When they came, everything in the house would turn uneasy. Alfred, Francis, and Arthur always did their best to act normal around me, but even I could tell that they were ready to shoot Ludwig. I didn't blame them- with the amount of pain and suffering he caused over the years, it was hard not to hate him. Ivan didn't even try to hide how upset he was. I don't even want to think about what happened there.

But during all this, I grew older. My twenty-seventh, then eighth birthday passed. I was slowly turning into an old maid. I didn't even realize it until one day back in spring.

I had woken to the Ludwig's dogs barking from outside. They were caught in the cold and rainy world outside. Besides their barking, the house was eerily silent.

I sat up, feeling every joint, muscle, and bone I've every injured protest as they always did in cold weather. One day, I will learn the medical reason for that. Slowly, I wrapped my robe around my body, noticing how rough my hands felt. My feet touched the cold wood floor as I made my way to the mirror in my room.

That was the first time I noticed my hair. It had grown to a normal woman's length; about haft way down my back. But that day was different. There was another single strain of gray hair mixed in. I picked it up delicately, turning to between my fingers. Again? These have been appearing in my hair more and more often.

The dogs started barking again, reminding me to return to the real world. I quickly plucked it. I had to let them in or else Ludwig was going to wake-up. But I didn't leave. Instead, I brought my face closer to the mirror and scrutinized it. There were a few lines.

"Since when did I have wrinkles?" I frowned, trying to smooth them out. Of course, they didn't disappear. "I'm not even thirty! How can I have wrinkles?" My frown only grew when I realized the answer: stress. Months and years of constant stress would age you and considering what I went through, it was almost seemed right for me to age a bit.

The dogs barked again. I slipped on my shoes and hurried down the halls. My feet made little noise as I went down the stairs into my kitchen. I paused at the doorway, seeing Ludwig already up and opening the door for them.

The three muts ran inside, retreating to the corner by the furnace. He barely glanced at me, before starting on a cup of coffee. "What are you doing up so early?" he inquired, placing a kettle on the fire.

I shrugged and took a seat at the table. "I was going to let those dogs in," I said, taking a quickly notice of how high the stove's flame was. I gave him a moment of silence before asking, "What about you?"

"I could not sleep." He replied before taking a seat across from me.

I looked out the window, watching the rain intently. It fell like bombs, pounding at the windows. For a moment, I was afraid they were going to break. "Why?" My eyes did not leave the shower. "You seemed very tired last night."

The nation sighed. "I just couldn't" was his excuse. I knew the real reason why. Last night, he had received another report about the Nazi death camps. Like every time before, he immediately reached for the alcohol. As always, I would take it from him, demanded he find a different way to sulk. Then he'll spend the whole night awake, thinking whatever thought came to his mind. I liked to think it was regretful ones.

The kettle whistled and Ludwig was occupied with fixing the two of us our cups of coffee. I took the warm cup in my hands and smelt the bitter perfume. I still preferred tea, but desperate times called for a drink of equal satisfaction. I remembered our previous coffee adventures.

"Give me your cup," I ordered. The German scowled at me before sliding his mug towards me. I sniffed it and immediately gave him a disappointed look. "You put beer in your drink again?" I demanded, marching over to the sink. I poured the toxic liquid down the sink. "Why do always do this to yourself?"

He gave a long sigh and glared tiredly at me. "This would not happen if you would just let me drink beer when I want to," he snapped back.

"You shouldn't rely on beer for stress relief," I said, making him a new cup. "At this rate, you're going to become an alcoholic."

I slid it towards him and he caught in his cold hands. "You act like my mutti," The nation growled, a little sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"I know." I took my seat again and we stayed silent. One of the dogs, Berlitz I think, trotted up to his master and begged for attention. Ludwig gave it readily, scratching behind its wet ears with affection. I placed my mug loudly on the table, saying, "Ludwig, I need to talk to you."

He looked at me with no emotions. "I need to talk to you about something as well," he said. "You go first."

The idea of him wanting to discuss something with me was unsettling. He usually kept any kind of change- routine or political -a secret from me until the last possible second. What in the world would he find worthy of my concern? "I'm going to be twenty-nine in August," I started. "And most woman are married and bearing their first child. I love staying here, but I'm not a country."

"I know you're not," was his reply. Ludwig ran a hand over his smoothed and greased hair. "That was actually what I wanted to bring up." Was it really possible that we were thinking the exact same thing?

The nation brought his coffee to his lips. "But I do want your help," he continued. "I do know and appreciate all the 'motherly'-" I scowled and he smirked "-things you do for me, but I'll understand if you want to leave."

"I don't want to leave," I said. The rain continued to fall, never-ending and never-starting. "But I know I have to."

I looked up at the Union Jack hanging from a small, newly built building. Even though we were technically in the Soviet occupied part of Germany, Berlin was split into four different zones. It was so that each of the Allies in control of the nation would receive equal representation.

"Why not hang a German flag somewhere?" I thought as we entered the United States sector. The star-spangle-banner looked down upon us, promising a world of liberty and good-fortune. "Remind the people that they're German." Isn't that why the war was started in the first place? Because Hitler claimed that the world was oppressing German pride?

Ludwig drove the car silently, concentrating on the road before him. Like always, he seemed tired. Add the state his government is in with all the paperwork he has to do daily; it took him a few months to get me my exit visa. If this was some cheesy romance novel, you would think that he took so long because he liked me. But that wasn't possible- he was still fighting Heilrich for Feli's heart.

Plus, when the nation had first given it to me, the nation had slammed the paper on the table and gave a triumphed smirk. In my head, it translated to 'ha, ha! Now I don't have to deal with you anymore!' If that wasn't an obvious sign, I don't know what is.

I ran a finger over the passport on my lap. It was hard to believe that five years ago, this thing would have been a gift from God. It was rare and precious- like gold. Bitter-sweet-honey tasting gold. But now I feel as though I could've lived my whole life without it.

"Well be at the train station in a few minutes," Ludwig said, barely glancing at me. "Are you sure you didn't leave anything behind?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Positive." Just as we settle into our silence again, I gained the courage to ask, "Are you glad the war is over?"

His reply, though nothing more than a grunt, was instant. "Ja. I am."

At last, we pulled up to the train station. Unlike the rest of Berlin, this building was in good quality. It was one of the first repaired, allowing supplies and people to commute across the country. The only unsettling fact was the stoic soldiers posted at every few feet. At least this time they aren't Nazis.

I looked at the front steps and felt a wave of nervousness over come me. Heilrich, Feliciano, and Lovino were there. The happy one was waving excitedly, calling for his blond lover as the empire and brother scowled. Grimacing, I asked shakily, "Hey Ludwig, what are they doing here?"

The nation undid his seat belt and looked out the window as well. "To see you off," he said simply.

"See me off?" I gave a fake laugh. I really did not want to have an audience today. "Why would they do that?"

Ludwig climbed out of the car and, like a gentleman, opened the door for me. "Two reasons." He grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the pavement. "They either care about you or have nothing better to do today. You're choice."

I groaned. "Point taken," I said as Feli came running up to him. As I pulled out my luggage from the trunk, the Italian hugged the German. He kissed his cheeks, rambling on about how much he missed him. Heilrich sulked at his side, muttering in German. From what little I knew, he was saying something about how inappropriate he was acting.

"Get your fucking hands off my fratello Potato bastard!" Lovino shouted, ready to shoot the nation dead. But he did not persuade his case any further. Instead, he addressed me, "So you're leaving." He chose to look at his shoes, not my face. "So you couldn't stand the Potato Bastard any longer?"

I smiled softly and gave him a small hug. "Something like that." Our grandfather-daughter moment was interrupted all too soon. Feli jumped off of Ludwig and wrapped his arms around me.

He cried into the crook of my neck, nuzzling it slightly. "Vee~! Are you really going to leave?" He wailed with no shame. I could feel his tears soaking my blouse.

Like a mother, I patted his back. "I am," I told him, melancholy dressing my voice. I motioned for the empire to save me. Heilrich did so readily, gently pulling him off. I mouthed a 'danke' to him and he mouthed unidentified German in reply.

The blond brothers dragged the crying Italian up the train station steps. I watched them go for a moment. Lovino picked up my suitcases and scowled. "You know Annie, I could do with an assistant-" I shook my head. The brunette paused, looking down and scowling deeper. There was a pained look on his face. "Fuck. Was it something I-"

"Of course not." I took one of the suitcases from him and entwined his free hand with mine. "You know I love you, Nano."

"Don't fucking call me that," he muttered. There was a light blush on his face as he quickly added, "Nipote." I smiled and nudged his shoulder. We followed the men up the steps, nudging each other playfully.

The station loomed above, like the only citadel for miles all around. It's grand and regal atmosphere made me freeze in place. "Are you fucking coming or what?" Lovino asked, pulling me along. My feet came back to life and I inched my way inside.

The walls and ceiling were decorated in the same manner as the interior, but that was not what made me stare. Inside was filled with civilians trying to make their way across Germany. It would seem normal, except a small area a few yards from me. Arthur, Elizaveta, Rodderich, Antonio, and Yao sat on a bench, waiting impatiently for me to arrive. I counted heads.

Why were they here? I could understand some of them, like Elizaveta and Arthur, but why the Asian and Austrian? Both of the men hated my guts. The only woman of the group rose and met me half way.

Tearfully, she held me close to herself. "Szia Annie," she said, speaking into my hair. "I am going to miss you."

I felt a few tears prick my eyes. I dropped my luggage and greedily hugged her back, saying, "I'm going to miss you too."

Antonio, finished with his hello kiss for Lovino, happily wrapped both of his arms around us. "Tristeza~" he cried, lifting us into the air. "You really are going."

Struggling out of both their grasps, I gave a small, sad smile. "I am, but it is for the best."

Yao's brown eyes met mind as stole my attention. "So you are finally leaving- aru," he said. "If you had waited any longer, I would have gotten rid of you myself- aru."

My expression was a mixture of a grin and scowl. "Well you're a bit testy today," I growled, looking at the small crowd of nations. "Is it because you're boyfriend isn't here?" Yao looked just about ready to kill me.

He opened his mouth, ready to snap back at me angrily, when Arthur took a stand between us. He was dressed in a fine suit, looking clean and prim. "Now, now, let's not start fighting here," he said, a strange tiredness in his voice. Despite his healthy appearances, I guess he really was affected by the war. "We're all grown adults now; we would not want to cause a scene." Yao and I glared at him, demanding he stopped laying peace maker.

Before argument could start, Ludwig loudly cleared his throat. "Well let's get a move on," he urged, glancing at his watch. "Your train is going to leave soon."

Yao gave a defined nod, dropping his case. "That's right, so we must go over everything one last time- aru." He glared at me again, saying, "You are very lucky that we are allowing you to leave at all. We normally would kill anyone would found out about us- aru. If any word about our existence leave you or your brother's mouth, you better have your funeral planned, understand- aru?"

"The punishment is severe," Rodderich piped. There was a daring glint in his purple eyes when he added, "And no doubt it will be acutely agonizing." Well gee, thanks Roddy, like I needed encouragement.

Sarcastic moment aside, I took a moment to think it over. I could still back out. I could say one word and I could be working as Lovino's assistant. One simple word could also end my relations with them forever. Meeting the Asian's dark eyes, I nodded. "I understand."

My fate was sealed.

The train whistled loudly, bringing us all back to reality. Ludwig nudged my shoulder and handed me my suit cases. "Let's go," he urged gently. I couldn't tell if he was tired or sad. Probably the former.

I started to move. Feli looked ready to break down into another bout of tears. Sighing, I dropped them to my feet and out stretched my arms. "Group hug," I said. Elizaveta, Feli, and Antonio readily joined. We all embraced for a long moment, savoring each other's smell and touch.

When we separated, Lovino gave me my own hug. The sudden realization that I may never see my nano again made my heart drop. "Vivi una vita buona," he whispered, loud enough for only me to hear.

"Anche tu," I replied. We pulled away and I gave him a smile. All the Italian could do was scowl. I chuckled and lightly punched his shoulder. He brushed me away and stood by the Spaniard, secretly wanting his own form of sympathy.

Yao and Roderich tapped their feet impatiently. "You're going to miss your train," the brunette said, adjusting his glasses.

Smiling mischievously, I ignored them. Instead, I turned to the German I spent the past few years with. "Stay away from the alcohol," I advised, taking my luggage back in hand. We started to make our way to the train. It was going to take me to Switzerland, then Italy where I'll join Caroline, Edward, and David at our new home. "It's going to kill you someday."

He frowned. "You always say that."

Standing in front of my car, I gave the nations one last glance. All of them were frowning, each for different reasons. I waved and bid them all goodbye before climbing inside. It was nicely furnished with separate rooms for each passenger. I claimed mine and locked the sliding door shut.

Just when I had my luggage in the over head compartments, there was a knock on my window. Arthur stood behind it, smiling kindly to me. Blinking, I pushed the window up. "Sorry Annie," he apologized. "But I nearly forgot." The blond pulled out a thick leather book and placed it in my hands. "America and I thought it best if you had something to remember us by."

I stared at it, shocked. It was the book Emily Basil had used to identify each nation. "Arthur. . ." I could not find any words to express my gratitude. Everything they did for me was too much. Resisting the stronger need to cry, I placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you." I nearly laughed at how emotional I was getting. "Thank you very much."

The train whistled one last time. He stepped away as I stayed at the window. I wiped the water for my eyes and did my best of smile. Just as the train started to move, I called out one last time: "Good bye!" I saw Ludwig and gave him one last message. "And thank you for tolerating me!"

As the train picked up speed, Feli did something unexpected. Eyes filled with tears, he chased after me, crying my name. Heilrich and Ludwig cursed before running after him. Elizaveta, Antonio, and Lovino joined them. Led by the Italian, they ran down the length of the station. It seemed as though they were going to chase me forever.

But the train station didn't go on forever. In the few seconds before they would reach the wall, Feli outstretched his hand towards mine. I brushed my fingers over his for the slightest second before snapping my arm inside. I barely missed the wall.

I stood there, panting as I waited for the window to clear. When it did, I stuck my head out again. I didn't see them; there was already too many ruined buildings and solid walls blocking my view. Was I really never going to see them again?

"No, I can." I looked down at my gift. "I have the book."

With that single thought singing in my mind, I sat on the red velvet seat and opened it to the first page. To my surprise, there were multiple things written. Like some sort of photo album, under each picture was a written message from each nation.

"See ya around! You should immigrate and live in me!" Is what Alfred wrote. I flipped through many of the other pictures. Matthais wished me "fevrval" and hoped that I "visit the King of Northern Europe one day." Kiku apologized for not seeing me off, but reported that he'll miss me very much. Ivan wrote that he was going to go through with his promise soon.

Turing the page, I saw that even the nations who personally saw me off wrote something to me. Amazingly, Ludwig also wrote me a long message. I peered at it, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me.

Annie,

You are, and always will be, a pain in my arsch. Had I known that, maybe I would not have agreed to save your life that day. Actually, that's not true. I have tried to convince myself that Kiku's persistence was the reason for me sparing your life, but that is a lie.

I chose to save you in order to defy my boss and my country. I thought that if I went against my boss's wishes, I could hold on to whatever small amount of free will I had. And I admit, having you around was an adventure. An annoying one at that, but an experience I will remember for a few centuries.

It is only right that you should know that.

Everyone writing in this silly thing is offering a small piece of advice. I guess I shall offer mine. If you weren't such a smart-ass, we could have avoided haft of the problems we got into over the years. You brought everything upon yourself.

Danke, Auf wiedersehen, and may I never see you again.

Sincerely,

Germany, Ludwig

"For some who doesn't care, you sure put a lot of thought into that," I said aloud. Sighing, I leaned into the seat. The train rocked like a mother cradling her baby to sleep. "Maybe you didn't hate me as much as I originally thought."

"Nein, he hates your guts." I raised an eyebrow at Gilbert. He had randomly appeared in the seat cross from me. His hands were cross over his chest and he smirked happily at me.

I smiled and leaned in further. "You had to ruin the moment," I chuckled. "Then again, when have you ever kept to the moment?"

The ghost laughed. "Only awesome people get to do that," he replied. For a moment, he chuckled loudly to himself. "Oh yeah, there was a reason why I came here." I gave him my attention, motioning for him to tell me. "I went down to Russia's house and spied on him. Because I'm awesome. Let's just say that 1964 is going to be a very short year for you." He looked out the window and cursed. "Speaking of which, Russia got General Winter to chase after the awesome me. Gotta go! Auf wiedersehen!" With that, he disappeared from my sight, never to be seen again. He didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye.

Sighing, I laided on the seat and closed my eyes. This journey was going to be emotionally stressful, I needed my sleep. Even now, I had the urge of turning around and returning to the nations, begging for a reason to stay.

As I moved my book to my lap, I felt my first real tear fall from my eye. It traveled down my face and onto the cushion. I closed the book and rubbed a hand down the leather cover. I sunk deeper into the seat. It felt as though I was falling. Falling and falling into an abyss with no end.

In a way, it was almost relaxing. "I'm never going to see you again, aren't I?" Saying it aloud is the only thing that made those words seem real, veritable. "We had a good run, didn't we?" Silent sobs shook my body. It was becoming hard to breath.

I took a large gasp of air and a waterfall of tears left my eyes. "I'm going to miss you," I whispered. I prayed that maybe they could hear me. Somehow. "I'm going to miss you all."

August 19, 1964

16 Years Later

"Get up Auntie Annie~!" Before I could crawl deeper under my blankets, the mattress I was laying on was flipped off the bed frame and onto the floor. I landed with a loud and painful thud. I will never know where she found the strength to do that.

I groaned and grumbled a series of incoherent swears. "Did you have to break my bones?" I demanded, trying to crawl my way out. "I am forty-six years old, I cannot be flipped off a bed like that, Caroline!"

My 'darling' niece laughed and lifted my prison off of me. She was a finely grown twenty-two year old, dressed in a lose flowery skirt and blouse. Her long blond hair fell perfectly to her waist whereas he green eyes sparkled happily at me. In summary, endowed with everything I lacked. "But it's your birthday!" She cried, pouncing to the spot next to me. "You should have been up hours ago!"

I grumbled and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "It's only noon," I complained. "You could have let me sleep longer."

She sighed, a frown forming on her face. In moments like that, she looked exactly liked her mother. "Uncle David and Aunt Elda called at seven to wish you happy birthday and Edward called an hour ago from England."

Unlike me, David was stilling living in Italy. Years ago, shortly after changing his name back to 'Rossi', he met and married the Italian beauty named Elda. They have three children now, all not even in their teens. Their first born, a son was named Patrick Romano (named after our father and grandfather). The other two, twins, were named Piera Milano (in honor of me) and James Seborga (in honor of his deceased friend).

Edward, now eight-teen, was living abroad in England. He was studying business with the intent of taking over our family's oil company. He was so smart, graduating top of his class in high school. My nephew had also found a love of writing. Apparently, he was in the process of writing a book. Of what, I didn't know.

That only left why Caroline was living with me in America. After David eloped, I packed my bags and sailed on The Arsenius to New York. I had never desired to stay in Italy; I just had to wait for a 'certain group of people' to stop paying close attention to my immigration status. Caroline came with me, declaring that she wanted to finish high school in 'the land of the free'. We found a place in Virginia and have been living there since.

I sighed. "I'll call them back tonight," I lied. I cracked my neck and stretched my arms out towards her. "Now be a doll and help an old lady back to her feet."

The girl groaned, stood, and helped me up. "You ain't that old," she said. "Besides a few wrinkles and maybe some gray hairs, I'll say you looked as young enough to marry Elvis himself."

I dragged my legs towards the bathroom. "Are you implying something?" I demanded, flicking the lights on. The mirror came to life, showing me an aged woman with long, gray streaked hair. I snatched and jammed my toothbrush into my mouth.

Caroline sighed and leaned against the door frame. "Well Auntie, you ain't getting any younger and you've never been hitched." She paused and added quickly, "Well there was Mr. Alwin, but that obviously didn't work out."

I spat into the sink. "Is there any reason why you are always bringing this up?" I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling away at the tangles. My hand lingered over the white bandage on my missing ear. The white was slightly brown. When Caroline leaves, I would have to change it.

I lead her out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen. "I just want you to be happy," she told me. "You know, it's never too late to start dating."

Of course. She had the same argument every time. If she was a little older, then maybe I could turn the tables and demand she get married. "You, your brother, and David are the best family anyone could ever hope for," I replied hotly. There was a platter of cold pancakes on the table. I took a seat, finishing with a "what else could a woman possibly want?"

A dreamy sigh left her mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right." We sat in silence at the table, stabbing away at our late breakfast. My niece swallowed loudly- a price of living in America -and realized something. "What about Mr. Big Eyebrows?" she asked.

I choked and punched my chest. "E-eyebrows?" I gasped, trying to regain lost air. I had a feeling who she meant.

"Yeah. He was this friend of yours. I met 'em long ago at a party." There was a far off look in her eyes. "He talked to me about fairies, remember?"

I swallowed and blinked rapidly. Of course it's him. Over the years, I have done my best to avoid any mention of 'a certain group of people'. "I remember him . . . "

She did not wait for me to continue. "He was a handsome fellow," Caroline said. "Why didn't ya ever hook-up with 'em?"

"Reasons best left untold." I continued to eat, singling that our conversation was over. Once again, we settled into a silence.

Once again, the blond broke it. "Hey Auntie I was wondering . . ." She trailed off; reconsidering her question I raised an eyebrow, imploring her to speak. "Annie, I . . ." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I was wondering what happened to Mom and Dad." I paused and placed my knife loudly back on the plate. "I know you never want to talk about it, but it's been how many years? I just want to know what happened."

I sighed. She asked me this question every year. Like every year before, I could avoid the question. But this year was different. I placed my elbows on the table, carefully considering my words. "There was a fight," I said. Caroline jumped back, not expecting me to answer. "Your mother, she was a kind-heart woman. One day, while I was caught in Germany, a group of men broke into our family's mansion and there was a fight. Your mother and father died during it."

"My story doesn't match what she experienced," I thought, reading the expression of disbelief in her face. I wished that I could tell her the truth, but I was bound by my promise to stay silent about a 'certain group of people's' existence. And there was my own conscience. "I don't want to ruin her image of her mother."

The blond nodded, pretending to accept my story. "Alright, that makes sense." I rose and gathered our empty plates. I brought them to the sink, filling the sink with water. Caroline smiled sweetly and crossed her legs. "We should do something today," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like let's go sail The Arsenius." The very thought made her bounce in place. "It's always fun when we do that together."

"Not today." I drowned the plate in the soapy water before scrubbing away at the gunk.

She frowned. Normally, any mention of going for a sail would cause me to act like an excited teenager. But not today, today was different. Very different. She peered at me curiously, wondering if I was a different person. "Auntie Annie, are you okay?" she asked, rising from her seat. She placed her hand over my forehead. "Are you feeling sick?"

I continued to scrub at the plate. "I'm fine."

Did you hit your head when I flipped the bed?"

Scrub, scrub. "No."

"Are you feeling anything other than normal?"

Scrub, scrub, scrub. "No."

"Are you sure?"

Scrub, scrub. "Positive."

"Did something happen?"

Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub. "No."

Caroline puckered her lips in frustration. "I bet you're sick," she stated, straddling her legs and placing her hands on her hips. "You're just too proud to admit it."

I killed the plates with my scrubbing. "I'm a nurse, dear. I can diagnose myself when I'm sick," I told her. I declared the plates clean and placed them in the strainer. "Why don't you go spend the day with your friends?" I suggested. "Didn't you say that they wanted to go for lunch anyways?"

There was an unidentified look on her face. "Um. . . are you sure?" The younger woman sounded unsure. "This is your birthday."

"It's fine, enjoy yourself." I gave her a small hug and kissed her forehead. "Just don't go doing whatever they smoke nowadays."

She laughed and swung her leather purse over her shoulder. "It's perfectly safe," she defended. "And it's not as though you didn't do anything like that when you were young."

I playfully laughed and smacked her forehead. "There was a war going on!" I defended. "The worst I ever did was drink moonshine and smoke cigs. Not Mary Janes."

"Right." Caroline strode to the back door and waved. "See ya Auntie!"

"Caroline!" She paused. I smiled and blew another kiss. "Just know that I love my family more than anything." I received another suspicious look before the door closed softly behind her.

That was the last time I ever saw her.

For the rest of my birthday, I anxiously prepared myself. I cleaned the living room, ensuring it was neat and posh. Afterwards, I took a long shower. Dressed in my Sunday best- a satin red dress decked in white lace -I sat on the living room's couch and made myself comfortable. There was two items on the coffee table: a handgun and Alfred's gift.

I waited for hours, passing time by looking through the book. It seemed as though the messages that 'certain group of people' left for me were new each time.

The sun moved across the sky; the sky turned an intense shade of orange. The color seeped through the windows and painted the room. The tint made the torrid air drier. I sat still, watching the day pass on. "Maybe he wouldn't come," I thought. "America and Russia do have bad politi-"

My front door creaked open and a man peeked his head into my house. "It's been a long time," I greeted. I gave him a weak, but meaningful smile. "Wow, you really haven't changed a bit."

Ivan, wearing his signature trench coat and scarf, ignored my comment. Almost determinedly, he strode up to the coffee table in front of me and placed something on the desk. "I believe this is yours," he said, showing me the iron cross. "Da?"

I gently took it off the table. Rubbing a finger over the old, cool metal, I smiled softly. "Yes, it is." The looked on my face was relief. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," I told him. "With all the bad blood between you and Alfred nowadays."

"I had to sneak into the country," he replied, moving to my wall. "He brought it upon himself."

My eyes followed him. He was as creepy and eccentric as I remembered him. In a way, it was mocking. "You know, you probably just started a war," I said, wondering what he was doing.

"Da." His arm shot into the plaster without a second thought. I jumped to my feet, demanding he tell me what he was doing. "I was not able to bring my usual weapon with me," Ivan said, yanking one of my water pipes out. "So I am making my own."

I gawked at the water that spilled from the hole. Seriously? I was hoping Caroline could have a perfect house to live in when this was all through, but no. He had to destroy the plumbing! "I have a gun right here!" I snapped, pointing to the fire arm. "Why else would I have it out?"

The Russian cocked his head to the side, his violet eyes looking confused. "Is that so?" he asked. When I nodded, he smiled happily, saying, "Oh well. That changes nothing." I smacked my forehead.

Releasing a long sigh, I lowered myself back into my seat. My bones creaked and protested. I had forgotten how strange they all were. Even though today was suppose to be solemn and couth for once. I rubbed my temples, muttering curses to myself.

A cold piece of metal tapped me from under my chin and guided my face upwards. The nation smiled down at me; unapparent to the stress I was feeling. "I kept my end of the bargain," he said, indicating to my Iron Cross. "It is now time you keep yours. Da?" Last I checked, he forced this 'bargain' on me.

"Yes." I took the medal in my hands again, feeling its presence one last time. It was like the missing piece to a puzzle. It tied everything together, created an image for the world to admire. How I've missed it. "Ivan, can you do me a favor?" I held it out for him. "Can you give this to Heilrich? It was his in the first place."

He stared at it for a moment. His gloved hand met mind as he gripped it strongly. "Da. I will," he said, placing it in his pocket. Ivan took my hand and led me from the couch to the center of the room. "Do not cry out," he instructed, fixing me in the perfect spot. "Or else you'll alert your neighbors and the police."

"Alright." Was I the only one thinking how odd this all was- Setting up your own death? "I have another question for you."

If he was annoyed by me, then he did not show it. "What is it?"

I bit my lip for a moment, wondering how I asked him this. "Dying . . . does it hurt?" I asked. "Do you experience anything?"

A raised eyebrow was the only indicator of his surprise. "I am a country, so I do not know," the Russian said. "But many of my citizens have theories. They say that you might see your life flash before your eyes. They theorize that there will be intense or no pain. They do agree that it is like falling asleep- it is instinct."

"I see." I bowed my head and closed my eyes. I took a few long breaths. "I'm ready," I said. "Tell everybody I said 'hi.'"

"Da. I promise." Ivan carefully placed the pipe on the top of my head, making sure he'll hit the perfect spot. Meanwhile, I saw faces I haven't seen in years: Mom, Dad, Abigale Parker, Charles Bright, James Fisher, Rosa Bright, Walter Alwin. I wondered if they were in heaven right now. Then again, Rosa and Abigale were among them. Maybe I was going to hell instead.

How fitting.

When the pipe was lifted off my head, I couldn't help but to open my eyes once last time. I saw Ivan lifting the weapon high in the air and bringing it down swiftly towards me.

In the seconds before it hit my head, I saw a familiar story play out in front of me. It was all familiar. The characters, plot, and scenarios were familiar. But most importantly, the opening was familiar. The first words were my own.

The memory I treasured the most took place on my eighth birthday . . .

HETA: START

Funfacts and Translations

"His capital used to be: Berlin." Used to be known as 'Königsberg'.

"Suum cuique". To each his own. Latin.

"Gottverdammt" Goddamnit. German.

"Es tut mir leid" I am sorry. German.

"You're a ghost!" Before you all explode on me, this is actually a popular theory for Prussia's existence in modern day strips. It is not used commonly since the creator himself said that this is the least likely explanation.

"V-J day." Victory in Japan.

"We ended up spending his birthday in Italy together." A little hint to Rebel-AK's one shot ;)

"Alfred, Francis, and Arthur…Ivan" America, France, Britain, and the Soviet Union had control of Germany. China didn't.

"Nipote." Granddaughter. Italian.

"Szia" Goodbye. Hungarian.

"Tristeza" Sadness. Spanish.

"Vivi una vita buona," Live a good life.

"Anche tu," You too.

"Danke, Auf wiedersehen" Thank you, goodbye. German.

"Ferval" Goodbye. Danish.

"Mary Janes." Slang for 'marijuana'. Please note that I do not support the use of it. Caroline, however, is a hippie and like most, does not know better. To better support my position, I will tell you that she died haft a year later of a drug abuse. Remember kids, say no to drugs.

Next Chapter: Omakes.

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