Chapter 54
"Here," Gil opened the door of the hotel room. It was simple but comfortable. He wanted to get her the best room in the city, but then his men would really talk, and that was the last thing he needed.
Gisela looked around the room with a grateful smile, "Danke, Gilbert."
"Bitte," Gil smiled back, nodding to her, "Are you sure you're all right? Have you eaten?"
Gisela shook her head, "But I'm fine, don't-"
"No, I'm going to make sure you get dinner…" Gil sighed. Dinner… The last time he had dinner with her family was just a few days before… but he tried not to think about it.
"You shouldn't be seen with me, Gil… it… it would be better for you if you weren't seen with me…" she looked down.
"Hey," he walked up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder gently, "Don't. I don't care. I owe you at least dinner and a safe room, let me help you?"
"What if I don't want more help? What if I chose this and…" she looked down.
"You're telling me you like… doing this? Gisela…" Gil didn't believe her.
She didn't answer.
"I won't ask what happened, but… Gisela this is illegal here, you could get in trouble, you could go to pr-"
"You think I don't know that? Gil…" Gisela looked away, "Please… please don't lecture me…"
Gil sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to protect you…"
"I know. You… You're not going to turn me in…are you?"
Gil shook his head, "Nein," he thought for a moment, "But I'm going to help you stop."
Gisela nodded, "Okay…"
Gil smiled, nodding then sighed again, "Ok, well we need to get you food… and something else to wear…"
"I shouldn't go shopping with you… people are going to get the wrong idea…"
Gil nodded, "Just… tell me what your sizes are and I'll get them for you. I know, I know that's still not a great plan, but it's better than you wearing that."
Gisela nodded back. She walked to the small desk and picked up the pad of paper and the pen. She wrote down her sizes and handed it to Gil, "There you go. Thank you." She smiled.
Gil smiled back, "Ok. Now, don't run away or anything?"
Gisela nodded, "Ok." She took his jacket off her shoulders and handed it back to him.
Gil slipped the paper into his pocket and took the jacket, putting it back on. He looked at her for a moment again, pity hitting him in the chest. He walked out of the room and to the nearest store, which was open for barely a half another hour. He found her a pair of jeans, a pretty burnt orange tee shirt with loose sleeves, and a pair of tennis shoes. When he got back to her hotel room, he stopped in front of the door, hoping she was still there. He knocked.
There was a long pause before Gisela opened the door. She was wearing the robe from the hotel and her hair was soaking.
Gil looked into her face. All her makeup was washed off. She looked beautiful, very much like he remembered her, despite the ten years that had passed. He handed her the shopping bags and stepped inside as she motioned him in.
"Hopefully that all fits," he said, sitting down in one of the chairs across the room by the window.
"Danke," She smiled, looking into the shopping bags and smiling. She stepped back into the bathroom and took off the bathrobe. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment. She was skinny, too skinny. She looked at the bruises on her ribs and hips. She hated it. She looked back at the bathroom door. Was he really going to help her? And he didn't want anything? She wanted to trust him. It'd been so long since a man was kind to her… but he shot her sister… to protect her and her mother and her brother… but it didn't change what he had done. And he was helping her, and he promised to help her more. She didn't know if she could believe him. And he wasn't human? She tried to process everything. He was alive, he was immortal, and he obviously hadn't aged a day. He looked exactly like she remembered him, though a bit skinnier, and his eyes were darker, more tired. She wasn't surprised. Her own had done the same thing. She changed into the new clothes. They fit perfectly. She brought the towel to her hair and tried to dry it off a little more. She smiled at her reflection. She looked almost normal. She walked out of the bathroom and spun around, smiling at Gil.
"What do you think?"
Gil smiled, nodding. He stood, walking up to her, "You know, without all that makeup on your face, you look a lot like your mother."
"Really?" Gisela tried to hide the excitement in her voice.
Gil nodded, "Yeah. For sure. Now, food. If anyone asks, you're my little sister, ok?"
Gisela smiled, "So you're adopting me?"
Gil laughed, "Sure."
Gisela smiled still, putting her arm around his as he offered it.
"Anywhere, in particular, you'd like to eat?"
Gisela shook her head, "I know a few places where I don't want to eat… they… know me…"
"Well, we won't go there then. Where wouldn't you be recognized?"
"Just about anywhere on the far northeast side of the city."
"Then we'll go there," Gil nodded, opening the hotel room door for her.
…
"Hey!" Germany ran after Italy as the redhead kicked the football away from him.
"Catch me if you can, former champion!" Italy laughed.
"Mph…" Germany tried to cut Italy off, failing as Italy kicked the ball to his brother.
"Got it! We're better than you, Germany!" Romano smirked, running towards the goal where England guarded the rope that served as the goal line.
"Non!" France ran in and kicked the ball away from Romano, just as he went to make the goal.
Romano fell flat on his back and swore at France, who was busy trying to keep the ball away from Italy again.
France kicked the ball to Germany.
"Who won the World Championship again, Romano?" Germany grinned, kicking mid-field towards the goal guarded by Spain.
Spain blocked it, earning a cheer from the Italy brothers. The cheering silenced suddenly as Germany dropped to his knees, falling forward on his hands, coughing hard.
"Germany!" Italy rushed forwards, kneeling in front of the bigger country, putting his hands on his shoulders, "Germany, Germany are you ok? Germany?"
Germany brought his hand to his mouth, pulling it away, closing his eyes hard as he saw blood. He wiped his hand on the grass, hoping Italy didn't see it.
"Germany…" Italy whispered, putting his hand on Germany's pulling it up to see the residual blood between his fingers, "Germany…?"
Germany looked up at him, licking the blood off his lips.
The others had gathered around them, worried.
Germany stood slowly, looking around at all of them, and finally back at Italy's terrified face. "I'm fine." He nodded, his voice hoarse from coughing. He cleared his throat, trying again, "I'm fine!" That was better. His voice was stronger, clearer. He tried to hide how tired he was.
"Germany, you don't have to pretend…" France put his hand on the man's shoulder, "If you're not all right-"
"I'm fine! But… I don't want to play anymore, I-" He stopped, turning to look as a car drove up next to the field. Three men walked out, one of them was one of Germany's bosses, the other two his bodyguards.
"Ludwig Beilschmidt," the political leader walked up to the group of countries, which parted to let him get to Germany. He extended his hand to the country, who shook it.
"Yes, sir?" Germany stood straighter, forcing himself to look stronger than he felt. He felt sick.
"I think it goes without saying that you're needed back at work. We'll have a suit sent over for you, come with us right away, please."
Germany nodded, glancing back at the others as he walked behind the man. He was more worried than he would admit. Things weren't going well.
Italy grabbed Romano and hugged him, burying his face on his brother's shoulder, trying not to cry.
"Really Feli?" Romano rolled his eyes but hugged back.
France glanced at England, worried, "Does America know what's going on?"
England shook his head, "No… but I don't know if he has time to do anything about it… none of us do. Germany can handle this by himself."
"Maybe our countries can't help, but we can, right?" Italy looked around at all of them.
"You know that's not how this works. He'll be fine. They'll figure it out…" Spain said kindly, putting his hand on Italy's shoulder.
"Are you sure about that?" Romano asked, looking up at Spain.
"Lovi, stop being so negative…" France said, annoyed, "Italy needs encouragement, not whatever you think that was." France sighed, putting his hand on Italy's back and pulling the little redhead into a hug, "Sh… sh… he'll be ok…" he rubbed Italy's back as he cried.
…
Germany stayed silent, looking out the window, away from the political leader who sat across from him. He felt awkward in his soccer clothes. He wanted his suit. He knew they'd have it there, but he didn't like being seen like this by any of the politicians. He crossed his arms over his stomach, trying to make it look casual. He pressed into his ribs, trying to make the sick feeling go away. It wouldn't go away. He swallowed hard, feeling sweat drip down the back of his neck. Whether it was from the game or the pain he wasn't entirely sure.
"This is about RAF, isn't it?" He asked finally, worried by the trembling in his voice. He cleared his throat again, hoping it would steady it.
The leader nodded, "As you know, the Red Army Faction is becoming something of a problem."
Germany nodded back, "What are we going to do about it?"
"That's what we're going to discuss. They've made several attacks now. Are you all right?"
Germany nodded again, "Don't worry about me. Have they changed any of their demands, or… their… propaganda?"
"What, that we're all Nazis? No. Still the same."
"Do they have any idea who I am?" Germany asked, concerned.
"It doesn't appear that they do."
Germany nodded again, with a sigh of relief, "Good." He looked out the window again as the car stopped at a sign. His eyes widened suddenly as a car sped towards them. "LOOK OUT-"
…
Gil led Gisela back into her room, smiling kindly, "I'll talk to you in the morning, Gisela."
She smiled back at him, then looked away, "And… you're sure you don't want anything in return for this? I'm quite good at-"
"Nein!" he cut her off, shaking his head, "Nothing. Ever. Ok?"
She smiled again, her eyes welling up with tears. She nodded, "Danke…" she hugged him.
He hugged back with a sigh, "What happened to you…?" he didn't realize he said it out loud until she pulled away from the hug, wrapped her arms around herself, bit her lip, and looked down. "I'm sorry you don't have to-"
"I ran away when mother died. I was 17…" She sighed, walking to the bed and sitting down.
Gil walked to the chair by the window, and sat down, drawing the shades. He looked at her, nodding for her to continue, "Only if you want to tell me."
She sighed deeply, and looked up at him, "When mama died… Cort and I didn't know what to do… he was working in one of the hotels in the West, and he was doing a good job. He became one of the assistant hotel managers, and mama and I were proud of him… When she died Cort promised to take care of me but… every time I looked at him I just saw Mama and Adelaide and… it was stupid and selfish, but I ran away… I figured he'd be fine, but… I do regret it. Everyday…" She looked down again, continuing, "I got a job… at um… one of the clubs… I… I said I was 18, I… I thought it would be an easy job, something I could do…" She shrugged, picking at her bracelets, "I know it's illegal here… but the pay is better. It makes the pay better… It's dangerous, but when has my life not been dangerous?" She rolled her eyes, and looked back at Gil, "I don't love my life, Gil, but it's the life I have. I'm probably going to die of some horrible disease way too young, but… what am I supposed to do? Go back west? That's going to work…" She rolled her eyes again, "I'm stuck here again… I've resigned myself to that. And whatever Cort is doing he's better off without me."
"That's not true," Gil shook his head, "He misses you."
Gisela stared at him for a moment, "You've seen him? Oh, Gil is he all right? What's he doing now? He's alive? He's all right, isn't he?"
Gil nodded with a sigh, "I think so, yes… uh… I 'm not entirely sure how to say this…"
Gisela shook her head, "Gil, what is it…?"
Gil sighed, "Cort was a spy for my brother, West Germany, (yes, he's my brother, and yes, there are personifications for all the countries), and uh… well, he shot me. 4 times actually…"
"What!? My brother shot you?" Gisela stood, horrified.
"I did kind of deserve it…"
She sat back down, shrugging, "I'm not going to argue."
Gil smirked, "Anyway… he took me to a hospital and Russia found us."
Gisela froze, "R-Russia?"
Gil nodded, "You've seen him. He was the one who… ordered me to…"
"Did he hurt Cort? Gil, please tell me he didn't hurt my brother…" She fought tears.
Gil shook his head, "He shot his leg… several times… I'm sure Cort is fine, but… I don't know if he kept that leg… it uh… I don't Russia wanted those injuries to be fixable…" Gil set his jaw, angry, "But I'm sure Cort survived, he's a tough kid, and those injuries weren't life threatening I'm sure."
Gisela leaned over, putting her face in her hands, sobbing.
"He went back over the wall… Russia let him go. He's back with West now…" Gil stood, sitting next to Gisela, hugging her, "Sh… sh… I'm so sorry…"
Gisela looked up at him, brushing her tears away, "Thank you, for telling me… for helping me…"
Gil sighed, "I'm going to get you back over the wall. I'm going to make sure you're safe. Ok?"
She looked up at him. She couldn't believe him, but she nodded, "Ok."
"Now, Schlaf gut (sleep well), and I'll see you tomorrow, Tulpe."
Gisela smiled, giggling, "Tulip? Why?"
Gil shrugged, "I don't know, it seemed cute. Innocent?"
Gisela grinned nodding, "I like it."
"Perfect. Gute Nacht, Tulpe," he stood, walking out the door.
Gisela put her head in her hands again, breathing hard, gasping as she sobbed. How could he be helping her? She couldn't trust him... could she? He murdered her sister, but he wasn't evil… He was forced to kill her. He didn't want to, he loved her… She tried to reason with herself. She felt sick. What was happening? But he said he'd help her, that he'd get her back to her brother… her brother… was he all right? Really? Did he lose that leg? How badly did Russia hurt him? What was he like? Was he still spying? Where did he learn to shoot? She had too many questions… and nowhere near enough answers.
…
Germany groaned, trying to open his eyes. Black fabric. He was instantly awake. He struggled, realizing he was bound to a chair. He stopped moving, listening. There was almost no sound in the room, just the faint buzzing of a light he couldn't see. The air felt damp.
"Hallo?" he said. The room didn't sound terribly small, but not large. He moved his feet, his tennis shoes rubbing against the hard ground. Concrete? He struggled again, managing to pull the chair forward a little, hearing the wood scrape the floor. Definitely concrete. A bunker? "Hallo?" He called again.
He heard a lighter, then smelled smoke.
"Who are you?" he asked calmly. He stopped struggling, sitting up straight, trying to look stronger than he felt, with no hint of fear.
"If I tell you who I am," A voice came from the darkness. It was rough but cool, "You'll tell me who you are. Deal?"
Germany nodded, "Deal."
"I represent RAF, at least to you."
Germany heard another chair creek in the corner of the room. The room was smaller than he'd estimated originally, the smell of smoke was relatively strong.
"Now," The voice said, slightly farther away. Germany figured the man had sat back in his chair, "You were the only one to survive that car crash. Who are you?"
Germany sighed, "My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt," he didn't see any point in lying.
"I've never heard of you. You must be important…"
Germany shivered, he could hear a smile in the man's voice, "What am I supposed to call you?" he asked.
"Call me RAF. That's who I am to you."
Germany nodded, "All right, RAF, why am I here? And what are you planning to do with me?"
He heard the man's clothes move, figuring he shrugged. He was wearing a leather jacket and a tee shirt? Germany couldn't quite make out the second fabric.
"That, my friend, depends a lot on you…"
"Oh?" Germany forced himself not to swallow hard, feeling sweat dripping down his neck again. He tried to breathe normally, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
"Just how important are you to the leaders of the country?"
Germany resisted the urge to smile, "Not very. I'm not worth anything to them." He tried it. Maybe they'd shoot him, toss him somewhere, and he could wake up and get back home like nothing happened…
The man laughed, "You know, I reeeeeeealy don't believe you."
Germany could hear the smile in the man's voice. He jumped, mentally kicking himself for it, as the man stood and walked up to him slowly, walking around behind him. Germany forced himself not to struggle again as he heard the soft ring of a knife being pulled from its sheath. He winced as the man laid the knife against the side of his face.
"How about this?"
Germany shivered again, the man was so close he could feel his breath on the back of his neck.
"You don't lie to me…" the man traced the knife down Germany's neck, lifting his chin with it, "And you keep all your fingers? How does that sound?"
Germany winced as he felt the tip of the knife digging into his jaw and the itch of a drop of blood running down his neck.
"Do you accept those terms?" The man smiled, laying the knife on Germany's cheek again.
"J-Ja…" Germany whispered, failing to hide the fear in his voice. He wasn't worried about injury, he could heal, but it sounded like an experience he could live without.
"Good."
Germany tried to hide his relief as the man brought the knife away from his face and sat back down in the chair.
"Now, how valuable to the government are you?"
Germany said nothing for a moment, struggling a little as the man stood, "Very…" He kept his eyes straight ahead, hearing the man sit back down, "I'm very important… Important enough for them to come get me while I was obviously not at work…" He almost growled. Being kidnapped was humiliating enough but in his soccer clothes? Kidnapped…. the word stuck in his mind. Captured? Hostage? He didn't know what word he wanted to use. None of them sounded good, and all of them sounded potentially painful.
"By now, you've probably figured that you're in a concrete bunker."
Germany nodded at the confirmation of his previous thought, "What are you going to do with me?" he asked again.
"Well first, I'm going to find out how valuable you really are to them…"
Germany listened as the man stood and walked to the back of the room towards what he assumed was the door. He didn't like that the door was behind him. Even tied and blindfolded he would rather face his enemy.
"Then we'll see."
"'We'll see' what?"
"If they get you back in one piece or not."
Germany winced as the door closed and the room fell silent again. He struggled at the cords again, knowing he wasn't going to be able to break them. He stopped finally, sitting back in the chair.
Well isn't this just great…
A/N: since things are going relatively well for Gil right now... Germany has his own mess to deal with back in West Berlin. RAF was a real problem for a while in West Germany, and I had a friend from Germany mention it to me as a potential plot point. I hadn't really heard about them since I live in America, and when I researched, I decided I must use it! (also I haven't seen any other fics ever talk about it... so here I go!) Also, cameos by quite a few of the other counties in here! (hi France, England, Spain, and Romano!) and more Gil talking to Gisela... which is fun/sad... poor Gisela... *hugs her* I think she would be conflicted... but at the same time, who else does she have to trust? :/
As always, I LOVE reading your reviews and replying to them! Thank you so much to all the regular reviewers! You always make my day! (or night... since I upload at ridiculous hours of the night/morning... =_=) Yes, it really is midnight. I don't live in a timezone where it's a relatively normal time of the night. Because all the best writing happens late at night guys! Anyway, cookies and hugs and lemonade for you all!
