Chapter 53

"Nyet… please…" Tears slipped down cold cheeks. The man winced as a gloved hand grabbed his face after striking it, forcing his chin up to look into a pair of threatening eyes.

"You know it has to be this way. Stop fighting it. There's nothing you can do."

"Nyet!" The man struggled at the handcuffs that bound him to the chair, "Please I'll do anything…"

"This is what you have to do. That's all. I'm sorry. Don't you realize there isn't another way?"

"Please…" The man brought his head down, shameless sobs shaking his giant frame. He looked up as another man, wearing a long black military coat and matching cover, stepped closer to him. He shivered, shaking his head, turning away, trying to fight back as the man grabbed his face, turning it towards his own.

"Don't you see? It has to be this way Snezhinashka (little snowflake) You need to be stronger. If there was another war, you would die. This is better. This is better for your people, for you. You don't have a choice anymore. This is what the people want. This is what we want."

"There has to be another way…" Russia shook his head as General Winter released his face, tears streaming. He didn't care. He wasn't afraid of the tears, not for this, "Pozhaluysta nyet… (please no). Please, I can't do this…"

"We're giving you a choice to sign the papers," The shorter balding man held out papers to him, offering to remove the cuff from his right hand.

Russia shook his head, gritting his teeth and looking up at the man, "You'd have to kill me first…" his voice shook with anger and pain.

"That won't be necessary…" the man sighed, shaking his head. He took the pen and signed the order himself, handing it to one of the officers standing next to him, "Yakov, see to this personally."

"Nyet!" Russia screamed, struggling. He couldn't break the chair. He wasn't strong enough… "Lenin please… please don't do this…"

"It's necessary. I'm sorry. It brings me no pleasure. But what needs to be done, must be done. There are no morals in politics."

Russia watched the man walking away, wincing as he felt General Winter's hand on his shoulder. He tried to hold back the tears. Whatever was coming, it would be worse if he cried. General Winter hated it when he cried…

"Well, Russia? Russia?"

"Russia? Russia?"

A voice drifted into Russia's mind. He winced, trying to wake up, trying to regain control.

"Russia?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. He sat up suddenly, pulling the gun from under his pillow and aiming it at the head of the man leaning over him. He pulled the gun away, instinctively reaching up with his other hand to make sure the bandages around his neck were still in place. They weren't, but it didn't matter. It was GDR, and he'd seen them already. Still, it made him uncomfortable. It felt vulnerable. He wanted to be strong. He grabbed his scarf from its place draped over the headboard and wrapped it around his neck before turning to GDR again.

"Why are you here?" Russia asked, his voice calm.

"I… I could hear you all the way across the hall, I wanted to make sure you were all ri-"

"I'm fine. Spasiba for your concern. Go back to bed," Russia laid the gun under his pillow again, starting to turn away from GDR.

"I didn't know you had nightmares…" Gil knew he was pushing it, but he was sick of not knowing anything.

"Everyone has nightmares sometimes," Russia tried to shrug it off.

"Not like that…" Gil shook his head.

"Like what?" Russia's voice was still calm, but he didn't move as he spoke, completely frozen, listening to Gil's response.

Gil wasn't sure if he should answer, afraid the truth would make Russia angry, but a lie was riskier… "You were crying… you were screaming for something to stop, begging… whatever it was… you weren't happy about it…"

Russia sighed, "Nyet… I wasn't…" He didn't know why he said that much.

Silence. The room felt even colder, like Russia's words had brought a horrible unsettling chill into the room. Finally, Gil stood to leave.

"I couldn't stop it…" Russia looked away, sighing deeply, "The uh…" he paused, trying to force himself to speak without letting the catch in his throat be heard, "The order to kill the Romanovs. There was nothing I could do. They killed the whole family and many of their servants… It should have taken 10 seconds… but it took hours. I went to see what they'd done after it was over. I had to go. I needed to see it…." He looked down with a sigh, "They were family, GDR. My family…" Russia looked up at him again, shaking.

Gil shivered. He couldn't tell if Russia was angry, or in pain, or both, but it didn't matter. It scared him.

"Do you know why they killed them, GDR?" Russia turned so he was sitting on the bed, facing Gil.

Gil shook his head, hiding his trembling hands behind his back.

"Because when you and your brother started a war, Nicholas had no choice but to fight you. We couldn't do nothing, it wasn't a choice we had. And we won but the cost…" Russia shook his head, "I was dying… I was weak…" he stood, taking a step towards Gil, "So my people followed new leaders and murdered an entire family and there was nothing I could do about it! I couldn't stop them! And the worst part? I knew we had to. I knew there was no other way for me to survive, but I…" he tried to steady his voice, "I didn't want to… not after what I saw in that room…" Russia grabbed Gil's neck and brought him to his knees.

Gil didn't fight.

"YOUR FAULT!" Russia threw Gil down on his side, releasing his neck.

Gil coughed hard, grabbing his neck, looking up at Russia, "Russland, I'm sorry…"

Russia grabbed his neck again, cutting off his words. He looked down into Gil's face, leaning down threateningly, "And now look at me. I'm stronger than all of you. Stronger than you ever were, 'Prussia'." he spat out the word like it stung his mouth.

GDR shivered, gasping in pain at the sound of his old name.

"And my revenge on you?" Russia leaned in closer to him, whispering in his ear, "You're never going to be strong again. I made sure of that. I broke you, GDR, and no matter what happens to you 100 years from now… you're never going to be what you were. You're never going to be strong again," Russia dropped him, kicking him with an order to stand, "Now: Get. Out. You leave in the morning." he stood straight, watching the smaller country scramble through the door. He walked back to his bed, putting his head in his hands. He was so tired. He hated it. He was starting to feel… weaker…

"And how I am supposed to know that, you're the country!?" Cort sat back in his chair, looking at Germany, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at the country for a second before smirking.

"It was a rhetorical question! I'm a country not a psychic."

"You know, you've mentioned you're a country 17 times in the past hour…" Cort smirked.

"Sorry…" Germany rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I guess I'm used to having to explain it to humans when they hear about… it…"

Cort shrugged, turning back to the books.

Both of them worked in almost silence for a while, the room filled with the scratching of pens and the flipping of pages. So. much. paperwork.

Cort looked up finally, pausing before speaking, "Germany?" He asked.

Germany didn't answer, clearing his throat a little.

Cort rolled his eyes, "Ludwig?"

Germany looked up, "Ja?"

"I know I said I didn't want anything in return for helping you with this… that serving my country is enough for me, but…"

Germany smiled a little, "What would you like?"

"I…" Cort sighed, "I want to find my sister. I… I need to find my sister…"

Germany sighed, "She said she didn't want to be found…"

"I know…" Cort shook his head, "I know she did, but I have to find her. I have to. I need to know if she's still alive if she's ok… did she start a new life, or is she… just ruining it… I have to know," he looked up at Germany steadily, "She's my big sister. And I have to get her back. I know you know what that feels like. I'm helping you get your brother back… help me find my sister?"

Germany looked at him, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man's. It wasn't an easy request, but Cort was right, it was fair. More than fair. "What's the last piece of information you got?"

"That she went back to Berlin."

Germany closed his eyes hard, pressing his fingers on the bridge of his nose, "Which side?"

"I don't know."

Gisela laughed hard, swinging her legs as she sat on the officer's lap, "That's hilarious! Tell another one!" she cooed, kissing the man's cheek.

"Well-" The officer smiled, then pushed her off his lap, suddenly standing, with the other officers in the room, and saluting the man who walked into the bar.

Gil motioned for them all to relax and went to sit at the bar.

Gisela froze, staring. She looked back at the officer, who motioned for her to sit on his lap again. She didn't move.

"Hey," he grabbed her wrist, "I'm paying for time, aren't I?"

"Let go of me…" she tried to pull her arm away.

"Calm down. What's wrong with you?" he grabbed her waist.

Gisela struggled, "I said let go of me!"

Gil stood to turn around, taking a step closer to the officer, "I believe the lady asked you to let. her. go." He stared into the officer's face until the man looked away, releasing Gisela. She ran out the back door of the bar, glancing at the two of them before slipping outside into the alley, sitting on the ground, her back against the stone. She pressed her hands into her forehead, shaking, gasping for breath. That couldn't be him. It couldn't possibly be him. He was dead. She knew he was dead, she'd seen him shoot himself, there was no way he was alive… Her thoughts were interrupted as Gil sat next to her, lighting a cigarette.

"I thought I saw you leave this way," he offered her a cigarette.

She stood instantly, stepping back away from him, "Who are you?"

Gil looked at her and sighed deeply, "So they didn't tell you…"

"Tell me what?" her hand shook. She wrapped them around herself, shivering in the cool night air.

Gil stood, taking a step closer to her, "You're not going to believe me."

"Try me!" She snapped.

"I'm a country. Literally. I'm the personification of the country of East Germany, or the German Democratic Republic, or GDR, or whatever the hell I am anymore."

"You… I saw you…" She trembled.

Gil sighed, "Like I said… I'm a country. I can't die. At least, not permanently…"

"That would suck…"

Gil shrugged, nodding, "Usually not, but… yeah. It pretty much sucks," he nodded again, sighing.

"You killed… you killed my sister…"

Gil said nothing for a moment, shaking his head, "I'm so sorry… I'm so, so sorry…"

"I thought… I thought you were in love with her…"

Gil nodded again, "I was. And she knew that I hope…"

"Why!?"

"Because I couldn't kill the rest of you! Because I couldn't let Russia kill Cort, or you, or your mother… It was one of the hardest choices I've ever made in my life, but I made it and I own it, and I will never be able to forgive myself for it, but it's what I did. And it's done… I'm so sorry…" He looked into her face with a sigh. Her makeup was old and smeared, and he couldn't help but notice her skit was very short, and her shirt was tight and low. She shivered again. He took off his jacket and walked up to her, waiting for a moment to see if she would push him away. She didn't. He slipped the jacket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms through the fabric a little, "That better?"

She nodded, looking down, biting her lip, "My family… everything that happened to us… to… me…"

"You can blame me. It's my fault, I deserve it…"

Gisela closed her eyes, leaning her head on Gil's shoulder, sobbing as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so… so sorry…"

"I forgive you…" she sobbed, "I had to… I forgave you a long time ago… I…" she couldn't speak anymore, her voice too choked.

Gil closed his eyes, refusing to cry, "Danke…" he whispered, not trusting himself to speak. He held her for a while, before she looked up at him, pulling away. "Now," he was almost afraid to ask, "Where do you live? I'll walk you there."

"N-nearby…" Gisela looked down again, picking at one of her bracelets.

Gil sighed, closing his eyes, "And um…" he wasn't sure how to ask, "Is it safe there?"

Gisela didn't answer.

Gil nodded, "Ok… I'll get you a room in a hotel somewhere ok?"

"I could stay with you…" She looked up at him.

"Nein," he shook his head, "I'm not asking for anything, you're not offering anything, and I don't want people to think you are. Gisela… to me, you're still a 14-year-old girl with too many questions about war. I will never ask anything from you… ok?"

Gisela nodded, smiling gratefully.

"Ok, let's get you somewhere safe and dry to sleep for the night," he nodded. He didn't care what his officers thought. She needed help, and he was going to help her. He owed her at least that much.


A/N: Lots of things happening...Russia's getting weaker, Cort is still Cort, and he wants to help his sister... but Gil gets there first! Poor Gisela... She needs his help. More on her story later. Gil's good side comes out again. He's a lot stronger when he's not around Russia. (raise of hands if you wish he'd had the opportunity to punch that jerk with Gisela? *raises hand*)

As always, reviews are deeply appreciated! I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading them. Even the long ones, for those of you who have been apologizing for leaving long reviews! XD Don't! I love it! It shows me how invested you are in the story! Thank you all again! I look forward to your thoughts on a (mostly) lighter chapter! :D Hugs and cookies and lemonade for all.