Chapter 6

Prussia felt sick. So, incredibly sick. His skin was even paler than usual, his lips dry and cracked. He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead, but he was freezing cold. His thoughts were groggy, almost like he was drunk. His body ached with pain. He looked around his new room slowly. It was better than his last one, the walls plastered and painted, an actual bed, a table, chairs, more light, even a bathroom attached to it. He was too sick to care.

Something was wrong with his country. Something was very, very wrong. He turned his head slowly to the door as he heard Russia's familiar boot-step.

"What-" The dry crack in his voice almost scared him, "What do you want."

"You're dying." Russia walked up to him slowly, sitting beside him, a bowl of water and a cloth in his hand. He touched Gil's face with the cold wet cloth as gently as he could.

Prussia relaxed a little. The touch was comforting, even coming from Russia.

"What's happening?" Prussia whispered, pressing his hand into his heaving stomach. He'd never been this sick. Russia was right, he was dying. He looked up at Russia weakly.

Russia sighed, "Your people are running away. They're leaving you to go and be with your brother."

Good. Let them go. He tried to take a deep breath, ending up in a fit of coughing. Russia waited patiently until his breathing slowed to normal and his lungs stopped rattling.

"GDR, your boss, and mine have decided on a plan to keep you alive."

Gil looked up at him again, too weak to ask what the plan was.

"You're not going to like it, but you'll live. It's what's best for you."

Prussia shook his head, "Wait… what… what is-"

"That doesn't matter, not right now. What matters is that you stay alive."

It almost sounded like Russia cared. Prussia didn't believe him. He nodded weakly.

"You do what you have to do to stay alive" His brother's words rang through his mind.

"All I need you to do is sign here." Russia held out a paper and pen to him. "Your boss already ordered it."

Prussia took the pen weakly. He didn't bother to read the paper, despite his better judgment. He was too weak. He didn't care. As long as he stayed alive, though, at this point, death was almost as welcome.

"Are you hungry?" Russia asked, kindly, taking the paper and pen back from him.

He nodded weakly

"I will send someone down with food for you then," Russia smiled, standing. "I know you will be feeling much better, very soon."

Prussia looked away again, coughing hard. He was so tired. All he wanted was to slip away into unconsciousness, but it was a gift he couldn't seem to manage to grab onto. He was unsure how much time was passing, it felt like hours. His lungs shook with each breath, his chest too painful to touch. Faintly, he heard footsteps coming into his room. He looked up.

Lithuania. He sighed. Of all the people Russia could send to bring him food. It had to be Lithuania. He watched as Toris set the tray of food down on the table beside the bed. He turned to leave.

"So. You still hate me?" Prussia's voice crackled, he tried to clear his throat, triggering another coughing fit. He turned to see Lithuania hadn't moved since Prussia had spoken.

"I don't hate you," Lithuania whispered. "I… I just…" He sighed, turning to look at Prussia again, "Some things are hard to forgive."

Prussia nodded, looking at Lithuania's face. He saw pity in the kind green eyes. He figured he must look like a mess.

"I'm still sorry you know." Prussia practically had to force the words from his throat.

"Stop talking." Lithuania shook his head, walking closer to Prussia. "Do you need help sitting up?"

Prussia nodded weakly, allowing Lithuania to help him. He glanced down at the country's wrists again. He managed to grab one of them, turning it to look at the scars closer. Lithuania pulled away suddenly with a small gasp, turning to leave again, obviously upset.

"What happened?" Prussia whispered. It was less painful to whisper.

Lithuania sighed, turning back to him again, unsure why he was staying in the room. "They're…" He sighed, "From um…" He rubbed them slowly, not looking at them. He shook his head, "I don't have to tell you anything."

"Does the fact that I might actually care…" the words choked Prussia, who bent over, coughing hard.

Lithuania rushed up to him again, putting his hand on his back, grabbing the glass of water from the tray he'd brought. He grabbed another handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Prussia, who took it, pressing it to his lips. When he pulled it away, there was blood on it. He helped Prussia take a drink of the water, and set the glass back on the table.

"I'm… sorry…" Prussia whispered, sitting back, gasping for breath, his face red from both fever and lack of oxygen.

"Don't be." Lithuania shook his head, looking at Prussia with pity again. "Are you all right?" He asked, almost reluctantly.

Prussia nodded. "Are you?" He touched Lithuania's wrist again.

Toris pulled away. "Stop." Please...

"You think you're the only country who's tried to kill himself?" Prussia chuckled darkly, looking away. He saw Lithuania freeze.

"What?" Lithuania's voice was shaky.

"How many times?" Prussia asked, unsure he wanted to know the answer.

There was a long pause as Lithuania debated internally how much he wanted to tell Prussia. Finally, he spoke. "Five." He whispered.

Prussia sighed, "Any in the past 20 years?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know that either.

Lithuania didn't move for a moment, then looked down, "Yes."

Prussia closed his eyes, turning away. The word hurt more than he thought it would. "I'm so, so sorry…"

Lithuania looked back at the white haired country. He pitied him. He'd never seen a country that sick before, except once. "I…" He paused, unsure if he should continue.

Prussia looked back at him, hopeful.

"I will never be able to forgive East Germany. Never." Lithuania shook his head. "And I don't know if I can forgive Prussia either…" He sighed, seeing the pain in Gil's eyes as he turned away, "But I might be able to forgive Gilbert."

Prussia felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of his chest. He looked up at Lithuania, more grateful than he could voice. "Danke…" He whispered.

Lithuania sighed. "I didn't say I actually did…"

"Oh come on, Liet." He tried to nickname, unsure how Toris would react.

"Really Priss?" Toris smirked.

"Hey!" Gil frowned at him. You promised not to bring that up again...

Lithuania laughed. "You should eat." He shook his head, picking up the plate of food. He'd actually tried to be nice to Gil. He'd brought him sausage. He smiled as Gil's eyes lit up, despite their illness.

"So you do have a heart," Gil smirked. Too much of one sometimes. He'd picked up on that right away.

Lithuania didn't reply but handed Gil the plate. "Do you need help?"

Gil shook his aching head carefully, "No, I'm all right." He nodded.

"Ok." Lithuania nodded back, "Do you need anything else?"

Gil paused for a moment, "Nein."

"Don't let Russia hear you say that." Lithuania reminded.

"He doesn't seem to care that much anymore." Gil noticed how much his words stung Lithuania, "Does he let you use your language?"

Toris shook his head, "Not really. He's taken most of it away… most of my culture…" He sighed. It was painful to continue that list.

Gil sighed, "I'm sorry for that too."

"That, for once, isn't your fault." Lithuania shook his head.

There was another long silence. Gilbert tried to take a bite of the sausage. It tried to catch in his throat, but it was so delicious he didn't care. There were worse ways to die. He stopped Toris again as he turned to leave.

"Why don't you hate Russia?" He asked, his voice still more hoarse than he'd like it to be.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't fight him. You don't… you just don't hate him." Prussia shrugged.

Toris looked down with a deep sigh, trying to decide which if Gil's questions he wanted to answer. "I don't hate him because I know too much. I've seen too much…" He shook his head. There were secrets about Russia he knew that he wouldn't share, at least not yet.

"Is that why you don't fight him?"

"Don't push it, Gil." Lithuania turned away, walking towards the door.

Prussia watched him leave. He pitied him. It actually scared him. The Lithuania he'd known as a child and the man he was now was almost a different person. He tried not to think about what Russia must have done to break him. At the same time, the thought frustrated him. Russia hadn't needed to fight him, or beat him, to break him. He'd just… given up?

No. I have not, and will not, give up. He set his jaw. He was trying to keep himself alive, that was all. He wasn't Russia's friend, no matter how many times Russia called him 'Ptitska'. He wasn't a bird Russia could cage. He wouldn't let Russia cage him, not now, not ever. Not. Ever.

...

Prussia stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the pins on his green uniform until everything was perfect. He was meticulous, careful. It wasn't his favorite of all the uniform's he'd worn, he reserved that honor for his blues from the Silesian Wars under Old Fritz. No uniform would ever be that awesome, not to him, but he still wanted this one to look as sharp as he could. He smiled, pulling on his cover, turning in the mirror. He looked awesome. He stood straight and as tall as he could make himself. He felt like a soldier again. He felt stronger than he had since the war began. Whatever Russia had done, it'd worked. He almost felt like himself again, almost.

He turned around, hearing a light step, to see Latvia standing in his doorway.

"Well," he grinned at the boy, "What do you think?"

Latvia smiled, but just barely. "You look good." He nodded.

"What's wrong?" Prussia stepped towards him.

"It's just…"

"No, what is it?" Prussia put his hand on Latvia's shoulder.

"You look… sc-scary…"

From just about anyone else, Prussia would have taken that as a compliment. He took off his cover and knelt, looking at Latvia's eyes.

"I will never, ever hurt you, you got that?" He kept his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Latvia looked away. He wasn't sure he believed Prussia. He was becoming too close to Russia to believe him.

"Latvia. What's wrong?"

The boy sighed deeply, looking back up at Prussia. "It's nothing, Gil. I just d-d-don't like…" He had never been good at explaining himself, "You look like…l-l-like Russia."

Prussia looked at him curiously, trying to figure out what he meant. His uniform looked nothing like Russia's, not even close. It looked relatively similar to his old one in fact.

"Latvia, what do you mean? I… I don't look like Russia, I-"

"You look like you're going to hurt people…" Latvia was trembling again.

Again, coming from anyone else, Prussia would have been glad to hear those words. But this was Latvia, and he cared too much about the tiny blond that looked too much like his brother.

"Well…" he tried to figure out what to say, "Military uniforms are, in general, designed to look like you're ready to hurt people." He didn't think he was helping.

Latvia chewed on the inside of his cheek, not looking at Prussia.

"Look," Gil turned Latvia's chin to him gently, putting both gloved hands on the boy's shoulders, "I'm not going to hurt anyone, especially you. Ok?"

Latvia looked into Gils' face, nodding slowly, "O-Okay."

Prussia smiled at him kindly. "All right, now, Russia and I are going to Berlin, we'll be there for a few days. You take care of the others for me, all right?" He ruffled the boy's hair.

Latvia nodded, with a soft smile. "Ok."

"Good." He stood, tucking his cover under his arm, standing up straight. He walked out of the door, Latvia following him close behind. His mind drifted to Berlin. He wouldn't tell anyone, but secretly, he was hoping he might be able to see West. Even just a glimpse of him in the distance. Something. Maybe he could convince Russia to actually let him see West. He'd been what Russia needed him to be. He'd trained one of the greatest armies in the world, again, and he hadn't fought with Russia. Maybe, just maybe, all of that would earn him a chance to see his brother. He was so lost in thought that he nearly ran into Belarus on his way down the hall.

"Watch where you're going!" Belarus snapped, glaring up at him.

"Sorry." He stepped back apologetically, "Are you all right?"

She sighed, looking up at him, "Yeah." She noticed a pin that had gone crooked on his uniform from the collision. "Here, let me fix that." She adjusted it until it was perfectly straight.

He watched, surprised she knew what she was doing. He didn't know why it surprised him. Her country had its own military, and she'd led them before. He smiled, she probably looked adorable in a uniform instead of threatening. He wouldn't dare tell her that.

"You're going to Berlin with brother?" She asked, almost absentmindedly.

"Ja-er- Da." He nodded, smiling at her.

"That's cool." She said, not looking up at him.

He nodded, "Yeah…" The conversation was awkward. He tried to figure out how to end it. He jumped suddenly as Belarus stood on her toes and girlishly kissed his cheek suddenly.

"Don't get hurt." She said, before walking away.

He stood, stunned for a moment, before turning to watch her walk away. He smiled. So she didn't hate him. That was comforting, given how much he knew she enjoyed playing with sharp objects. He walked through the long, dark halls. He looked at the beautiful paintings on hung along them. Paintings of the Tzars and their children, and their children's children. It was like they were watching him walk by, but they didn't seem angry, they seemed sad. Everything in Russia's house seemed sad. There was a cold, dark, heaviness over everything. Mournful, like something, was missing. He knew what was missing. Joy. Any kind of happiness. He wondered how long it had been since anyone had laughed in these halls, at least laughed with joy. Russia had a cruel laugh, almost a giggle when he was both entertained and upset, but it wasn't joy. He turned the corner, to walk down the long, grand, white staircase. He ran is hand over the banister, trying to imagine how incredibly beautiful the palace must have been before… everything. Russia's country had been destroyed long before the second war. It was the first, where most of the trauma had happened, and before it. He'd heard Lithuania mention 'Bloody Sunday' once, as the moment when everything had changed. He knew better than to ask Russia about it, and Lithuania refused to give him any more information either. He didn't push. As he reached the end of the stairs, he saw a some of the others already saying goodbye to Russia at the doorway. Hungary, Ukraine, Lithuania, Estonia, and Poland. They wouldn't be gone for long, but it was nice to see the other's saying goodbye to them. He smiled as Russia hugged Ukraine. Any humanity Russia showed encouraged him.

He's not the monster everyone thinks he is… Prussia noticed Lithuania shaking as Russia brushed past him, Most of the time. He walked down the last few steps. Hungary walked up to him, taking his hand gently, looking up at him.

"I'm glad you're not going away for long," she looked him over, "You look good in a uniform you know…you always did." She almost whispered the last sentence.

He smirked, "What are you admitting to?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She looked up at him again, indignantly, "Just that you look nice."

He leaned in, whispering in her ear, "You look even better in a uniform than I do." He smirked, standing straight again, his grin only growing as he noticed the blush on her cheeks.

"Go away, Gilbert." She rolled her eyes, pushing him away and crossing her arms.

"Only for a few days, maybe a week." He smiled, half laughing.

"Oh, joy," she said sarcastically, smirking. "Really though… take care of yourself," she nodded.

He smiled, nodding back, "I will."

She took a step back, standing straight, and giving him her best salute, which he wasn't ashamed to admit, was just as good as his. He saluted her back with a smile.

Prussia turned to see Russia waiting for him at the door. He nodded to him, walking to Ukraine and holding out his hand for her's. She offered it, and he kissed it with a polite bow and a smile.

"See you soon, Gil." She smiled back.

He nodded to Estonia, who nodded back and walked up to Poland.

"Um... well, I'm going to be gone for a while, so..." He tried to sound kind.

Poland didn't look at him, keeping his arms crossed over his chest, looking away.

Prussia sighed, at least he tried. "I'm sorry." He reached forward to put his hand on Poland's shoulder.

"Like, just keep away from me, ok?" Poland's voice sounded more scared than he'd meant it too.

Prussia sighed again, pulling his hand back, "If that's what you want." He shook his head and walked up to Lithuania.

"I'm sure Russia has already told you to hold down the fort until we get back?" Gil smirked at him, glancing back at Russia, who smiled.

Lithuania looked over to Russia. Russia's expression changed, but only slightly. The smile was slightly more threatening.

Lithuania looked back at Prussia, "Yeah."

Prussia smiled. "See you later then," he said, turning to Russia and walking out the door and up to the black car that waited to take them to the plane.

A/N: Another chapter today!? Yes! Because the writing bug is biting me hard. And I don't mind! I'm having way too much fun writing this! This chapter was almost two, but they were both short, so I combined them. Hopefully, the time shift isn't too annoying.

I am speeding up history quite a bit, making it seem like maybe he's been with Russia for about a year at this point, but it's been much longer than that. It's now late August 1961. Anyone catch by 'bird in a cage' reference? ;)

Writing the first part of this scene for Liet was hard... and sad. Liet is one of my favorite characters (right after Prussia and Russia) so... Painful. But now Prussia knows. And they're starting to get along. Liet is still quiet and distant, and very, very hurt, but at least he's on speaking terms with Gil now! Poland on the other hand...

Yay for cool military uniforms! ;) Prussia looks pretty dang good in it, doesn't he?

Talk to you all soon! I'm not sure if I'll get another update up today, but I will hopefully tomorrow!