Dro: I love writing Prussia. He amuses me so. Anyway, have at it!

Chapter Summary: Matthew and Gilbert have a chat. Gilbert has a plan. Matthew isn't sure he likes it.

Warnings: Violence; Language

Disclaimer: Dro is refusing to allow herself to buy anything for the next several months. Sadly...

He had stared at Gilbert Beilschmidt as if the man was a ghost since he'd first awoken. It was immensely surreal to see a dead man walking, his voice still as animated as every, his arrogance still ramped up on high. Gilbert had been talking to him for several hours—from the moment he'd opened his eyes to their move from the clinic to the SS officers' base of operations—but Matthew had missed most of the things he had said. His ears seemed to have ceased functioning, and his brain absorbed nothing but the image of the German man before him. He honed in on the blank space where Gilbert's right arm had been, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. At first, he had thought he'd left the man to die while he escaped, and while this was so much better than that scenario, he couldn't help but feel slightly responsible that the man had lost a limb saving him.

"—thew. Matthew!" Gilbert snapped his fingers, and Matthew jumped.

"Yes?"

He snorted. "You 'ave not heard a vord I said, 'ave you?"

Matthew cleared his throat and turned his head, trying to hide his reddening cheeks. "I'm sorry. It's just…You're alive. After all that's happened since you…since we thought you were dead…it…To have you come back is just…"

Gilbert shook his head. "I understand. Really. It vas a surprise to me too. You know vhat it is like to vake up and 'ave everyone tell you that you vere the only survivor?"

"The only one?" Matthew stared. There had been many people in that house, and Gilbert had been the sole survivor of the fire?

He nodded. "Ja. The only one. They pulled me out from underneath a segment of roof, missing a few parts, obviously, but…still breathing."

"That's amazing." Matthew replied breathlessly. And it really was. Gilbert had to be one of the luckiest men alive. So many soldiers were being killed day after day, some from nothing more than stray bullets or tiny pieces of shrapnel. And yet Gilbert had survived being trapped in a burning house that had literally exploded. Matthew was honestly surprised he didn't look worse than he currently did. He still had his hair, and his face, besides the mostly gauze-covered right side, was devoid of burns. He had come out of that house relatively unscathed, especially considering everyone else had not made it out all. "You're…you're really something else."

Gilbert grinned. "You just figured that out?"

Matthew snorted. "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

"And I never vill. You can bet on that, too." He chuckled.

"And what makes you so confident, huh?"

"Because I am awesome!" He exclaimed.

Matthew blinked. "What?"

"Awesome! Alfred taught it to me, the vord. I used it right, ja? Awesome? I am awesome?"

Matthew held in his laugh for all of two seconds. "Y-yeah! I guess you sort of are!" He hadn't laughed so light-heartedly in months, he realized. He admired Gilbert for that ability, the ability to make those around him laugh and smile. His mirth was almost contagious in a way.

A new doctor, who'd apparently accompanied the SS to this town, came in then, and they both went silent. Matthew listened to the doctor prattle on in German, Gilbert nodding every few moments. When he finally replied, Matthew found himself desperately wishing he spoke German. He still hadn't got around to asking Gilbert just how he'd convinced the SS to not tied him up and torture him to death. The doctor quickly checked his leg over for a few seconds before excusing himself, and Matthew turned to Gilbert expectantly.

"He said you vill be fine. Just take it easy." He groaned slightly. "And the others are asking for me, vanting to know vhat valuable intelligence I 'ave learned."

"Huh?" was the only thing Matthew could come up with.

"Oh, right. Forgot to tell you. I, uh, may 'ave lied and told the SS you vere an informant from France."

He stared. "You did what?"

"Vell, it vas either that or I tell them you are an enemy spy so they von't kill you immediately. But since ve already vent that route and it ended vith me in an exploding house, I did not vant to really try that again." He pursed his lips. "Do not vorry! I 'ave got this under control!"

Matthew tried to wrap his head around this. "Wait, if you told them I was one of your informants, then why did they shoot at me and Arthur?"

He coughed and grinned sheepishly. "Vell, I figured if I told them there vas more than one informant, then they vould get suspicious, so I just said you vere an informant and enemy spies had blackmailed you vith your hurt brother."

"So, let me get this straight. You said Arthur was an enemy?"

"Ja…I know!" He held up his hand in defeat. "I know. Not the best plan, but I vas pretty sure they vould keep your friend around long enough for me to make an escape plan for him."

"And you could have used the same plan with me."

He frowned. "Vell…I thought it vas better this vay."

"Why?" Matthew asked indignantly.

Gilbert stared at him for several moments before letting out a loud sigh. "I…" He sounded embarrassed. "I did not vant you to get hurt."

Matthew opened his mouth to retort but stopped as he realized the implications of that statement. He felt his cheeks begin to warm, and he turned away, trying to push back the image of Gilbert kissing him that was steadily working its way back up into his conscious mind. "Oh…"

The silence was stifling.

Gilbert suddenly slammed his hand on the table. "Anyvay…are you hungry?"

"Um…sure?"

"Okay. I vill go get you food then?" He shot up and slipped out the door before Matthew had another chance to speak.

He fell back on the bed, staring at the doorway Gilbert had disappeared into. This is going to be a long day, isn't it? His thoughts gradually returned to Arthur, and he prayed that the man had safely escaped from the SS. He would never forgive himself if Arthur had been gunned down while he'd been spirited off to safety with hardly a scratch. He glanced at his leg, wondering how long it would take him to recover from his injury. He knew he should have asked the doctor, but he was slightly afraid he could ruin whatever ruse Gilbert had going on if he said too much. He tried to glue "Speak French!" into the forefront of his mind and hoped for the best. Gilbert was a man who took risks, he had quickly figured out. And he could only hope the man's gambit played out in their favor.

Of course, he had no clue what Gilbert's entire plan was yet. He made sure to make that his primary question. He needed to the know the intricate details of this if he was to play his part right. On cue, Gilbert returned, balancing a tray of food on his palm. He placed it on the bed and sat down next to Matthew.

"Good enough, I hope." The food wasn't much, but Matthew didn't complain. He was starving. He dug in, listening as Gilbert began to elaborate on his little ploy. "Vell, here is vhat I said. Vhen they told me that they had begun to track a group of mysterious people and that a civilian had seen my bruder among them, I came up vith this little plan. I said, my bruder must 'ave been kidnapped by these spies, as ve had just come into contact with a French informant. So, I helped them track you to here, hoping that I could get you and Alfred and your cousin back." He nodded. "That vas about it."

Matthew shook his head slowly, sipping at a glass of water. "And what if some officers come along to question me about my supposed information? What am I supposed to say?"

Gilbert nodded, a smug smirk crossing his face. He dug around in his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Matthew. "Use these. Took them off a real informant."

Matthew unfolded the paper, realizing it was a listing of troop movements. He frowned. "This could put my allies in danger, you know?"

He snorted. "Your allies are already in danger, and so are you. If ve can get you and Alfred and your cousin out of Germany, then at least one party vill be out of danger."

Matthew was tempted to point out the flaws in his reasoning, but he let it go. His primary goal in coming to Germany in the first place had been to retrieve his brother and return him home safely, and that was still his goal. He gripped the piece of paper tightly. How many laws had he already broken? And how many more would he break? He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to either of those questions. Regardless, he hid the piece of paper in his shirt and fell back on the bed, sighing.

"Are you okay?"

He wasn't sure how to reply to that. There were a lot of things that weren't okay here. He was happy that Gilbert was alive. There was no doubt about that. But he questioned Gilbert's judgment. Granted, Gilbert's didn't know that…

"Hey, Gilbert, do you know who the man we were all traveling with is?"

Gilbert tilted his head to the side. "A Russian spy, right? Ve 'ave been trailing him for several days now. He did kidnap my bruder, ja?"

Matthew figured it was a bit more complicated than that, but he nodded curtly. "Yes. He sort of kidnapped all of us, but he decided to let Al, Arthur, and me go. However, we willingly decided to go along with him toward Russia because Al refused to leave without freeing Ludwig first."

Gilbert grinned. "Did I ever mention I really like Alfred?"

"Well, that makes two of us, doesn't it?"

Gilbert chuckled. "I guess it does."

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Gilbert rose to his feet, frowning. "I vas not expecting anyone." He mumbled. A chill shot down Matthew's spine, and he started pleading with God. Please don't let this be another setback. I can't take anymore! I just can't. Please don't do this to me. He watched anxiously as Gilbert headed for the door. The man hesitated before opening it.

And for good reason.

He dived out of the way just as the door burst open, and an armed man marched through the threshold, gun poised to shoot. He aimed it at Gilbert. Matthew froze. He recognized this man. He almost hadn't at first, but he was sure of it now, sure he wasn't making a mistake. He knew the man standing in front of him. And it appeared the man recognized him too. Because he gradually began to lower the gun, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Matthew, right?" He asked cautiously.

Matthew looked over him carefully. His clothing was in tatters. His face was bruised. He had several lacerations, some of them still bleeding, running down his neck and arms. His eyes were wide with adrenaline and panic, as if he'd just run right through a mine field. And perhaps he had in a way. He looked like he'd been hit by several mortars. His breathing was incredibly labored, and Matthew was sure the poor man would collapse any second now. But instead, he stood up straight, as if attempting to appear like the intelligent, dignified, polite spy that Matthew had previously encountered.

Gilbert frantically glanced back and forth between them, obviously lost. "Um, vill someone explain vhat is going on here?"

"Personally, I would like to ask the same question." Both of them looked toward Matthew, as if they expected him to magically have all the answers.

The only thing he could do was shrug his shoulders and go for it. "Um, this is Gilbert," he said, pointing to emphasize his point. "One of the men who saved Alfred and me." He met Gilbert's perplexed gaze. "And, Gilbert, this is Eduard, a spy that works with the spy that kidnapped your brother."

Gilbert frowned deeply. "I see."

Eduard huffed. "I don't. Will someone explain to me just what the hell is happening here?"

"Um, I don't know." Matthew answered slowly. "What happened to you?"

Eduard laughed bitterly. "Well, one moment, I was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast. The next second I was being dragged out by the SS, who then beat me for information, knocked me out, and hauled me off with them to this place."

Matthew's head slowly titled downward, focusing on Gilbert. But Gilbert just shook his head. "I had no idea he vas here. I promise."

"Yes, well, if I'm here, getting tortured. And you're," he pointed at Matthew, "here getting…pampered. And you," he said condescendingly to Gilbert, "didn't know about this…then what the hell is going on here?"

Matthew's throat had gone oddly dry. "Hey, Gilbert. How many officers went out to chase down my group?"

"Earlier? About sixteen people. It was a joint operation. Ve had gathered several groups for support for the 'rescue.'"

"Sixteen…" Eduard murmured. "About how many total had gathered here?"

"About thirty. Vhy?"

All the blood drained from Eduard's face. "Because I just escaped. And I only came across four men in the entire complex."

"But…" Gilbert's face contorted with horror. "That…That vasn't part of the plan."

Dro: Hey, look! I gave Estonia a role that wasn't completely inane! And as is standard with a role upgrade, he got a free "get severely injured to gain sympathy" pass. =D

Next Chapter: One Arthur, One Ivan, One Alfred, and One Ludwig. Versus twenty-seven SS officers. Uh oh...