Ivan wheezed as he performed his last kettlebell swings. His hands were getting weak and losing grip, his arms felt heavy. Additionally, he did not seem to get enough air. As difficult as it was, as much as his body hurt, somehow Ivan had always went back to the basement to work out as soon as his body stopped hurting. So far, Gilbert had only ever made positive comments – whether conciously or unconciously, Ivan did not know. He would not tell this loud smart-mouth that, as draining as all of this was, he came back to hear a simple comment along the lines of "well done".

Russia, who had been looking for recognition for a very long time, who often felt not taken seriously by the western powers, felt some recognition in the form of a smile of admiration by his former enemy. He wasn't even sure Prussia noticed. Now, they were just humans, doing human things. Funny how being a nation and being a human were so separate yet to entangled.

"Are you alright?", Gilbert interrupted Ivan's thoughts, causing the other to smile to himself. Prussia always liked to demand attention. "I'm fine, Prussiya.", Ivan said, putting the weights down and wiping his forehead with his arm. "You sound like-" - "I'm fine.", Ivan emphasized again, then gave the other one a small smile to show he was not lying. He could feel the effect of the pandemic on him, had felt it for weeks now. But it was alright. It would pass, he would not die of it, just like he had not died of any other pandemic either. Since it was a proxy-sickness he could not heal himself. The people would have to heal, and he would proceed as far as he could.

Gilbert's face flickered into worry before returning to a neutral expression. Funny how being a nation prevented you from being human sometimes.

Ivan was lying on his couch wrapped into his blanket when Gilbert sat down next to him on the couch. This time, Gilbert did not sit in his usual corner on the opposite end of Ivan, but rather in the middle of the couch. Ivan pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Gilbert cleared his throat – the only introduction he ever really needed apparently – and asked: "Are you sure you're alright?"

Somehow this question hit Ivan on various levels. Was this about his physical well-being? His mental well-being? The well-being of his people? Maybe this even was a question concerning their rocky relationship? What he would have given to hear this question centuries ago.

It seemed that Ivan had been quiet for too long, because Gilbert continued: "You called me Prussiya." At this, Ivan lifted his head. "Slip of the tongue. I guess you will always be Prussiya to me." Gilbert leaned on the backrest of the couch, his body not relaxed despite the slouchy position. "You mean like you were Russia despite being the Soviet Union?", he challenged. Ivan sighed. "You know I did not choose my name." Gilbert held his gaze, then suddenly his whole form seemed to sink into itself. He slightly turned to have his back to the backrest, not directly facing Ivan any longer. "I don't like it.", he muttered, crossing his arms.

Ivan tilted his head. "Don't like what?" Gilbert breathed out through his nose. "Being called Prussia." "What?", Ivan asked, confused. If anything he would have thought Gilbert liked to hear his real name. But he understood when Gilbert quietly said: "Because it reminds me that I am dying."

Ivan felt a chill go through him, even though he knew. Even though he was one of the main reasons Gilbert was still there. If something frightened you, look at the facts, he thought. Objectivity will take the scare out of many things. "You are still here, though.", Ivan therefore said calmly. "You don't look very dead to me." Then he reconsidered. "You don't look any deader than you always have, to be precise." Gilbert groaned. "Is that a reference to my pale skin? Really? Now?" He rubbed his temple and the white hair moved wildly. Then he shook his head. "I just wanted to make sure you're not exercising while being sick. How did we end up with my death?"

So he had worried about him. And Ivan had to remember a time where he had looked up to the wild younger boy, despite getting beat up a couple of times in the process. Of course he had gotten stronger then, and beat up the other in return. But as someone who had to use his elbows to survive he had to admire someone who against all odds had managed to rise to the top. By all means Prussia had been meant to vanish in history, become a meaningless vassal to another country, and in the end maybe a county if anything should remain at all. Instead he had elbowed his way into history books.

They sat in silence for a while.

Ivan looked down at his plate. Today there was fish and broccoli. It looked awfully healthy to him. For some reason it did not feel weird. A part of him mourned the absence of a nice sauce or anything to add more flavor to it, but he had mainly gotten used to plainer food than 'before Gilbert' (was this an era now?). Though the food was not bad, despite containing decidedly to little soups. There had even been some very nice things which he would actually like to eat again – not that he had told his housemate.

He looked over to Gilberts plate which had decidedly less fish. Actually, Ivan's portion seemed to be almost double. "Are you not hungry?", Ivan asked, somewhere between surprised and suspicious. Gilbert, who had been putting things away at the counter, sat down in this moment. There was a look on his face as if he was contemplating something, then he looked down at his own plate and shrugged his shoulders. "I just thought you may be hungry after that workout yesterday.", he said in a very neutral tone. "Priyatnogo appetita."

It actually was true, Ivan thought. Besides, the work he put in would not pay off without some protein, that much was obvious. Not that he worked out to lose weight or anything – he had no reason to. But regeneration was much faster with some protein. And the fish did taste good. Much better than expected, actually. The broccoli as well. "What did you make this with?", Ivan asked after swallowing. "It's just fish, broccoli, some salt and – as something extra for you – sliced almonds.", Gilbert answered with a small smile. "Huh." "But it is good quality fish and vegetable.. you know that elderly lady who likes to wear that red-blue scarf with the fringe who sells vegetables at the corner of the street, you know, when you reach that third intersection after that bigger street and then go to the left, -" "No!", Ivan interrupted exasperatedly, "Okay, anyway, she gave me this broccoli since it was, well she said, it was the best one thus far, so I got it for us. Good, huh.", Gilbert finished, nearly beaming from his story. Ivan hummed in agreement, wondering whether he wanted to dare hear more details of this story or not. He finally settled for: "Sounds like you made a lot of friends here."

Gilbert grinned back. "Of course I did! Who wouldn't want to be friends with someone like me?" Ivan smiled his friendly smile to mask a sigh. "It seems like you will be able to return home soon. Have you said your goodbyes yet?" The other one's grin dimmed slightly. "Yes, of course. Ludwig said he will keep me posted. It's a bit of a pity though, I would have liked to see your neighbour's orchard in summer." Ivan hummed in thought.

After what felt like an eternity everything ended quite quickly. The long spring weeks had bled into the beginning of summer, and the incidences went down in almost all countries. It felt as though you could finally breathe again, and breathe they did. One day a car had arrived to pick Gilbert up and he had stuffed his things into his bag, gotten on the car, then gotten on a plane, then gotten on another car, and then had stepped into his home after months spent abroad. It felt like home and odd at the same time. When Gilbert unpacked, he noticed that he had accidentally taken that one large shirt with the stripes in different blues with him. Later he checked his notes on his training progress to set up his food plan for the next week (he had to adapt this now since he did not have to take another person into account) and looked over his detailed calculations. It had not been easy to guess how many calories Ivan needed in a day without invading his privacy (like asking for his actual weight and height), but he had made educated guesses and then fed the other man what he would need to work out together, while heeding macro nutrients and also unknown likes and dislikes. Sighing, Gilbert contemplated deleting the document in which he had saved his calculations and notes for Ivan, then decided against it.

A few weeks later Gilbert received an e-mail. "Could you share how you did that lentil stew?", it said, and: "You forgot a sock. Do you want me to ship it to you?"

"Shipping a single sock is extremely cost-inefficient.", Gilbert typed back, "Besides, I am not missing a sock."

"I will keep you sock then until you want it back or come by. The orchard is beautiful, by the way."

Gilbert handed in vacation for September. A lot of his work had been pushed back and he spent the summer trying to catch up. Everything then happened a little later than he wanted to, but then, after what felt like another eternity, he stepped out of the car in front of the large mansion. "Came to pick up your sock?", Ivan asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

The next lockdown unexpectedly hit one week later.

Note

So I am keeping this one open in case motivation hits again. I definitely have some more ideas. :D

Originally I had written a somewhat heartbreaking ending with the "Prussiya"-scene, but it never felt right to post it. So I won't. My personal headcanon is that "East Germany" is fading, and the person "Gilbert" remains. This is why he keeps going back to a more personal, human level - which is what the scene would have been revolving around.

Thank you for your comments, I appreciate them.