Chapter 16

Soft light illuminated the room, casting shadows along the back wall. The sun was barely starting to peek over the horizon, and it would only stay in the sky a few hours. The infectious cold of the house seemed thicker, heavier. It had been three weeks since GDR had really spoken with anyone else in the house. Hungary hadn't said a word to him, Estonia was indifferent as always, and Ukraine just smiled at him, but only at dinner. Lithuania and Latvia seemed to actively avoid him, and Belarus just glared at him every time she saw him. He hadn't seen Poland in over a month. The only person he spoke to regularly was Russia.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking over his uniform, his measuring rod resting on the table. He picked it up again and unlatched one of the pins. It was off center by a fifth of a millimeter. It bothered him.

"How long does it take you to get it perfect?" Russia smiled, standing in the doorway.

GDR smirked, "Perfect isn't possible."

Russia rolled his eyes, "You would say that."

Gil glanced back at him, his smirk growing, then turned to the mirror, repining the metal piece, this time in the right place. "You didn't have to come and get you know… unless you're here just to admire my uniform skills," he turned around, looking at Russia.

Russia laughed, "Nyet. But it is impressive," he smiled, "You realize it won't matter though… not for this."

"Oh, it matters." GDR smiled.

Russia shrugged, smiling in return. He walked up behind Gil. "That one's out of place," He pointed, quickly.

"Which one!?" Gil turned to the mirror again, grabbing his ruler.

Russia laughed, "It's fine, Ptitska."

Gil rolled his eyes, internally wincing. He still didn't like that nickname. "Did you just make a joke?"

"Despite what many people believe, I'm not incapable of making jokes." Russia shrugged, "Now, we must go. They're waiting."

GDR nodded, straightening his uniform again as Russia walked towards the door.

"It's fine, GDR!" Russia called back as he turned into the hallway.

Gil sighed, smirking again, turning away from the mirror and setting his ruler down. He followed Russia.

"G-G-G-Gil?"

GDR stopped, turning to see Latvia standing behind him. He sighed, looking down at the boy, "Ja?"

"W-w-w-why are you doing this?" Latvia trembled, "You… you you you look scary again…" Latvia looked down.

GDR sighed, trying to think of an answer.

"Is it because of me?" Latvia didn't look up.

Gil shook his head, "Nein… I just… I have too many people I need to protect," He nodded, "My people."

"Russia's people," Latvia snapped, still keeping his eyes down, unwilling to look up at Gil.

"Yes," GDR nodded, "People that belong to the Soviet Union. It's the best way to protect them."

"Unless they try to cross the wall…"

GDR raised his hand, then drew it back. A shiver went down his spine as Latvia looked up at him, his big blue eyes shining with tears.

"Do it," Latvia trembled, "Get it over with." Latvia bit his lip, looking away.

"Latvia…"

"Why are you doing this! Why!?" Latvia shook, with anger this time, his hands clenching into fists, "Why are you joining Russia? Wh-wh-why are you doing this to us!?" Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Gil looked away, "Because I have to. The Soviet Union is keeping my people alive. It's keeping me alive, Latvia please… please try to understand."

"I understand just fine," Latvia pushed past him, walking down the hall without another word.

GDR sighed, turning to the stairs, to find Lithuania waiting for him. The country's dark hair was pulled back, and he wore his usual uniform. His arms were crossed over his chest. He didn't look amused.

"Latvia's right, Gil. You don't have to do this. Why? Why are you doing this?"

"I told you. I'm protecting my people. Right now, communism is the best way to do that," he tried to push past Lithuania. This was a conversation he didn't want to have.

"You know what they're going to do to you… don't you?" Lithuania turned to look at him again, knowing Gil was trying to ignore him.

GDR winced, turning back to Lithuania, "Ja."

"And you still want to turn communist?"

"Ja," Gil straightened, looking at Lithuania, "It's what's best."

"For you?"

"I don't matter, as long as my people stay alive."

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," GDR shook his head, "This is my choice."

Lithuania looked down with a sigh, then back up at Gil, "Fine. Your choice. But I'm not helping you. I'm not listening to you. I'm not going to fight for you."

"I wouldn't expect you too," Gil turned away again, going down the first few steps. He could hear Lithuania walk to the top of the stairs and stop.

"Latvia tried," Lithuania said simply, watching Gil stop.

"Tried what?" Gil didn't turn.

"He thinks this is all his fault. He said…" Lithuania sighed, "He said if he couldn't cry anymore, maybe you wouldn't do this."

Prussia closed his eyes, trying to hide the emotion that punched him in the chest, "Is he all right?"

"For now." Lithuania walked up to him, facing him on the step, "Gil. Please. Please don't do this."

GDR continued down the stairs without another word to Lithuania. He had nothing to say. He had to do this. He stopped at the kitchen and smiled. Hungary was making her favorite soup. He could smell it. He stepped inside. She didn't look at him.

"Liz?"

"What do you want, GDR?" She snapped without looking at him. She looked at her soup, stirring it gently with a long wooden spoon, trying to distract herself.

"Do you hate me?" He took another step closer to her.

"Yes, actually." She kept her eyes on the soup.

He walked up behind her, putting his arm around her waist slowly. "Are you sure?" He leaned closer to her.

She spun around, slapping him with the spoon she held as hard as she could, smiling when he barely caught himself from falling to the ground. "Yes, GDR, I'm sure. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Liz-"

"Get away from me…commie."

Gil winced. No one had called him that yet. He didn't want to get used to it.

"It's only until I can get back to Germany…" He whispered, trying to reassure her.

She didn't answer, hoping he told the truth. "Get out of my kitchen." She snapped, nodding towards her frying pan.

Gil winced again, he'd like to avoid it if possible. He stood, slowly. "I'm sorry, Liz."

"Get out." Her voice choked, though whether it was tears or anger he couldn't quite tell.

He straightened his uniform and walked out the open doorway. Russia waited for him at the top of the stairs.

"I'm very proud of you," Russia smiled, "You understand now. You did learn, I didn't think you would." He opened the door, leading down the long, stone staircase.

GDR glanced at the door to his old room and shivered. It was still too cold in the hallway, the stone damp and freezing. They walked down the dark hallway, to a conference room Gil hadn't known was there. Inside were Russia's bosses, and his own. They were serious, standing tall in their uniforms. He looked at their faces. They were all pleased with him. He tried to ignore the nagging turn in his stomach, and the ache in his chest. This was wrong. This was all wrong. He closed his eyes, trying to write off the discomfort as nerves. He had to do this. He would protect his people. He would protect himself. He would protect Latvia.

GDR tried to take in the room. It was large, made of stone like every room in that part of the house. A giant rug sat under a long conference table that was covered in stacks of paper, folders, and charts. Gil sighed. This was going to take a while. His boss motioned for him to sit, which he did. Everyone else placed themselves around the table in their respective chairs, all eyes on him.

"German Democratic Republic, I'm glad to see you finally understand the benefits of communism," Russia's boss didn't smile. GDR doubted he ever smiled, "We have many things to discuss, and many things for you to sign. Then, you will be granted the full privileges that come with being a satellite of the Soviet Union."

GDR nodded, "Let's get to it then."

"We will start with the wall…"

Gil closed his eyes.

…

His left hand ached almost as much as his head as he looked at the last paper. He'd signed too many things already. It was an agreement to allow the United Nations to recognize GDR as it's own country, separate from West Germany. He looked down at it, with a deep sigh. The final piece that would keep him from his brother. He glanced up at his boss, a man he barely knew, appointed by Russia and his government. The man nodded. GDR hadn't expected anything different. He signed the paper and handed it to Russia, who took it with a beaming smile.

"Welcome home, GDR."

Prussia closed his eyes, trying to shove down the pain in his stomach that only grew worse. "So…" He cleared his throat, steadying his voice, "Is that all?" He knew it wasn't. He just wanted to get it over with.

"Not quite." Russia shook his head, standing. He motioned for Gil to follow him.

GDR was led to a patch of stone, away from the carpet. He turned to Russia, who held out his hand. Gil shivered internally, carefully unbuttoning his jacket, draping it over Russia's arm. He pulled off his shirt, laying it over his jacket and set his jaw.

You can do this. Remember what Russia will do if you don't do this.

Russia nodded to the stone, "Turn around."

Gil obeyed, hearing Russia hand the jacket to one of the others. He felt Russia's gloved hand on his shoulder, pressing down gently.

"Kneel," Russia said, kindly. Gil could hear the smile in his voice.

He knelt on the stone, his back facing Russia, and took a deep breath, trying to ignore everything in his mind screaming at him not to do this.

"Why are you doing this! Why!?" Latvia shook, with anger this time, his hands clenching into fists, "Why are you joining Russia? Wh-wh-why are you doing this to us!?" Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Gil closed his eyes as Russia stepped directly behind him.

"Wait," Gil set his jaw, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "I want to do it."

"Really?" Russia smiled, pleased.

GDR nodded, "Yes. I should, shouldn't I?" He held out his hand.

Russia smiled again, placing the knife in GDR's hand.

Gil closed his fingers around the hilt. For a second he debated using it to fight everyone, to get out, but he forced the thought away. He brought his arm across his chest, aiming the blade at his back.

"You do what you have to do to stay alive. Just stay. alive."

Ich leibe dich, bruder…

He drove the knife into his back, gritting his teeth, trying not to let the pain show on his face. He moved the knife, then stopped, feeling Russia's hand on his.

"Other way," Russia smiled, resting his other hand on Gil's shoulder.

GDR nodded, letting Russia help guide his hand. Hot blood ran down his back as he tried to bit back any indication of pain, looking straight ahead. The knife tore through his skin. A long curve and a line. Another line, diagonal, slicing across the other. And one, deep carve. He let out a short gasp of pain as Russia twisted the knife before pressing his hand into Gil's back, pulling the knife from his skin.

Gil stretched his shoulders, ignoring the pain. He looked at his hand, bloody to the wrist. He winced as Russia pet his hair, leaving a bloody mark in the white strands.

"I'm so proud of you… comrade."

Gil closed his eyes and stood, nodding to Russia again, forcing himself to speak. "Thank you… comrade." He looked at his boss, and Russia's. Both were pleased, though neither smiled.

Russia smiled, putting his hand on Gil's uninjured shoulder, "You did well."

Gil closed his eyes, trying not think about it. He wished it had hurt more. He wished tears would find their way into his eyes. It was over, but he didn't feel any less sick. He felt worse. He heard their bosses leave, ignoring them, too wrapped in his own thoughts. He snapped to reality as Russia laid a cloth on his back, soaking up the blood. He didn't fight Russia's touch but shivered with cold.

"I'm almost done, GDR. Then you may have your jacket back."

GDR nodded, "Danke." He winced as he felt Russia apply something cool to the wounds.

"It will help," Russia said, kindly.

Gil nodded again.

"Your blood is beautiful… GDR."

Gil shivered. "W-what?"

"It is. All blood is beautiful, don't you think?"

GDR looked down, "I… suppose so."

"Your skin is so pale, it makes it stand out more, I like it."

Gil shuddered again. Russia's tone making it clear the giant country was unaware of how disturbing his words sounded. Gil only nodded, "Yeah," he said, wincing again as Russia laid a gauze over the wound, and started to wrap a bandage around his shoulder.

"It'll heal in a few days." Russia smiled, "Until then, rest. You've done well."

Gil stood as Russia taped the end of the bandage down. He noticed his shirt and jacket laying on a chair at the conference table. He slipped them both on, imperfectly. It bothered him, but he had no way to fix it.

"I'm ready to work now. What can I do?" He didn't want another few days to think about anything. Maybe working for Russia would keep the pain from overwhelming him.

"There is one thing…" Russia's voice grew colder, almost angry.

"What is it?" He didn't care as long as it was distracting. It could be anything.

"Poland."

Anything except Poland. Gil froze, not replying. "W-Why?" He dared to ask.

Russia smiled, "He's not afraid of me anymore. I need him to give me names. Names of people who are against me. He won't do it. He's not afraid of me. But he's afraid of you."

Gil swallowed hard, "I…"

"The first time he asks you to help him beat Poland, let me know, so I can stop you." Lithuania glared at him.

"You do what I say… don't you?" Russia took a threatening step closer to Gil, his breath on the back of the smaller country's neck.

Gil shivered, nodding. "Ja."

"Khorosho." Russia smiled, patting Gil's good shoulder, "Then you'll do what I ask? You don't need to hurt him… unless it's necessary. Just get him to give me names."

Gil didn't respond. He shuddered as Russia stepped closer to him again, putting his hand on Gil's bandaged shoulder. He pressed his hand onto the fresh wound. Gil winced.

"You know what will happen if you don't… da?" Russia's voice was cold again.

Gil nodded, slowly, closing his eyes.

"Then you'll do it? I need your help."

Gil grit his teeth and nodded. "I'll talk to Poland."

"Khorosho. He's in the other room, you should go now." Russia smiled, turning to walk out of the room. Gil followed and watched Russia walk upstairs. He turned to the dark end of the hallway, and up to the black door. He closed his hand around the handle, slowly.

Poland struggled, screaming again, fighting Prussia, trying to press himself further into the corner. He scratched at Prussia's face and arms, crying with pain.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! PLEASE!" Poland screamed, begging, crying. "PLEASE! STOP!" He sobbed, wrapping his arms around his head in self-protection.

Gil forced himself to unlock the door.

"Please! Please stop it! PLEASE!" Poland covered the scar on his face, sobbing, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

He opened the door.

A/N: Well... that happened... Also, Poland chapter is next!

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