Chapter 19

GDR leaned his elbows on his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at the stack of papers still in front of him, and at the clock. It was 2 am. He turned back to the papers. His eyes felt heavy, his mind starting to blur, all the words on the pages were running together, and he could barely register sentences anymore. He brought his hands down the sides of his face, rubbing his temples. His head ached. His whole body ached. He felt sick. He looked at the papers again. There was no money. His people were trying, but Russia wasn't helping, at least, not helping enough. He debated going to ask him for help, but he couldn't swallow enough pride. He let his head rest in hands, trying to think, trying to plan. He closed his eyes, opening them immediately with a gasp. He didn't want to sleep. He wouldn't allow himself sleep. He stood slowly, leaning his hands on the desk, and took a deep breath, shaking his head, trying to clear the images in his mind. He straightened his belt, standing tall, and walking towards the door. He nearly ran into Russia.

"W-I-um…" He collected himself, "Russia." He nodded to him respectfully, "What are you doing here?"

Russia smiled, handing GDR the glass of clear liquid he held, "I thought you might need something to keep you awake."

Gil smirked, nodding again, "Danke." He paused, "Or should I say 'Spatsiba?'"

Russia grinned, "You're doing well. It's almost right."

Gil saw Russia's eyes drift to the stack of papers on the table, "It's been a long night I see?"

GDR nodded, walking back to the desk, setting down the glass, "Ja… a long night." He shook his head, "I feel like I've barely even started."

"Do you need any help with the papers?" Russia asked, almost kindly?

"Nein. I'm all right. I can finish on my own," GDR looked at him again, "What are you doing awake?"

"You're not the only one with too many politics to deal with?"

"America?"

"Mmm," Russia nodded.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. There is actually," Russia smiled.

GDR smirked, "What is it?"

"I need you to go back to Berlin."

Prussia closed his eyes, opening them with a sigh, "What do you need me to do there?" He said, trying to keep emotion out of his tone.

"My military there isn't as strong as it was when you were commanding it. And, there's been… trouble in the city. I need you to take care of it."

"And by 'take care of it' you mean…?"

"Do I really need to explain?" Russia smiled.

GDR sighed, nodding, "Nein. I understand."

"Khorosho. Then we're on the same page, da?"

GDR nodded, "Are you sure you want me to take care of it? I'm a soldier, not…" he shook his head, "Also I'm not exactly inconspicuous now am I?" He pointed to his hair and skin half-jokingly.

Russia laughed, "That's true. But I don't want this to be quiet."

"Ah," Gil nodded, "You want to make an example."

Russia smiled again, "There. Now you understand. So. You'll do this?"

GDR nodded, "Of course. When do I leave?"

"In a few hours. The car will pick you up at 6. You should try to get some sleep."

GDR picked up the glass of vodka Russia had given him and poured it down his throat in one drink. He smirked at Russia, who gave him an impressed smile. "There. Now I can sleep."

Russia laughed again, putting his arm around Gil's shoulder as he turned to walk out of the room.

GDR winced, Russia's hand landing on the still healing wound he'd carved into his skin earlier that month.

Russia took his hand away, "Are you still in pain?"

GDR nodded, "Ja, but… it's nothing to worry about."

Russia sighed, "Take whatever medicine you need. I need you strong."

"Danke, Russland." GDR smiled. He and Russia walked together to the door, then Russia nodded a goodbye. Gil went straight for the medicine closet. He searched until he found several bottles of strong liquid painkillers and syringes. He slipped them into one of the small medical bags and carried the supplies up to his room.

GDR closed his door, leaning up against it for a moment. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes again, opening them immediately as screams of pain rang in his ears, and faces flashed in front of him. He shook it off. He pulled off his shirt, and changed into sweatpants, leaving his military pants and tee-shirt neatly folded on his dresser. He walked to his bed and sat down, setting the medical bag beside him. He opened the drawer of the nightstand and took out a band, wrapping it around his arm, pulling it tight with his teeth. He reached into the medical bag and pulled out one of the bottles. He turned it in his fingers, looking at the clear liquid sloshing inside the glass. He read the back, looking for the dosage. He filled the syringe with an extra half-dose and turned back to his arm. He pulled the band tighter, rubbing and tapping at his arm, slipping the needle into it. He pressed the syringe slowly, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, the images invading his mind finally starting to fade.

He jumped awake as he heard a knock on the door. He looked at the clock. It was 5 am. He winced, pain shooting through his arm. He looked back to it. He'd fallen asleep with the needle still in his arm. A giant black bruise ran halfway to his wrist, and blood had dripped around his arm onto his sweatpants. It was caked and dry. He heard the knock again.

"Give me a minute!" He snapped, turning back to his arm. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the syringe, pulling the needle out of his arm with a inhale of pain. He grabbed a bandage from the nightstand drawer and threw the rest of the medicine and needles into it. He'd deal with it all later. He pressed a piece of gauze into his arm, wrapping the bandage around it tightly. He winced again. The band around his arm had left a very tender ring around his upper arm, though he couldn't see a visible bruise.

"Gil, you're going to be late." Lithuania's voice, muffled by the door, snapped Gil back to reality.

"I'm hurrying!" He snapped again, standing, running to his dresser, throwing on his tee-shirt, pants, and a jacket. He carefully packed his uniform into his always packed suitcase. He kept it ready just in case Russia sent him somewhere short notice. He tugged on his boots and ran to the door, dragging his suitcase behind him. He pulled it open, giving Lithuania a rushed grin.

"You look like a mess," Lithuania crossed his arms.

"Something's wrong with your pony-tail," Gil smirked, pulling a strand of Lithuania's hair out of the band, and continuing to walk down the hall.

"Hey!" Lithuania watched him leave, "Don't get yourself killed."

"By you?" Gil called back, trying to sound cheerful.

"Only if you do that again…" Lithuania rolled his eyes, pulling the elastic out of his hair and retying it to grab the strand Gil had yanked from it.

"No promises!" Gil laughed, walking down the stairs to the door. No one was there to say goodbye this time. He tried to tell himself he didn't care. He wouldn't be in Berlin for long. He felt a twist of fear deep in his stomach. He didn't like what Russia had ordered him to do, and he didn't want to see… it… again. It was almost physically painful to think about, he wasn't sure what it would feel like to actually stand next to it again. But he had to. He had to stand next to it, to look at it, to touch it. He handed his suitcase to the driver, who threw it in the trunk of the car while he slipped into the backseat.

…

Gil lifted his head from the window as the car slowed, crossing into the city. He'd fallen asleep. He winced. His arm throbbed with pain. He felt it though the fabric of his jacket. He'd tied the bandage too tight, his fingers going numb. He'd fix it once they were at the hotel. He looked out the window at the city again but turned away. He couldn't look at it. The City Palace was gone, his favorite church was gone, the theater was gone, half the city was gone… he didn't want to look at it, but he couldn't take his eyes away from it either. It was his city. His home. He looked at the people in the streets. They wore dark colors, looking away from the cars that passed, keeping their faces down. His eyes caught those of the same girl he'd seen on his last trip. Her eyes met his again. He hadn't quite noticed how beautiful she was before. He watched her look away, glancing back at him briefly, and slip into her house. He made note of where it was. They pulled into the hotel entrance, and he opened the door of the car, straightening his coat, walking to the front door. He smiled at the boy who ran out to grab his luggage.

"Herr Beilschmidt!" The boy's face glowed with excitement.

Gil put his hand on the boy's shoulder kindly, "Hallo."

"My mother and sisters and I are so grateful to you… Danke."

Gil nodded, "Don't worry about it," He smiled still, "Your mother and sisters, are they well?"

The boy nodded.

"Good." He was relieved. He didn't trust many of the soldiers in the city, especially the Soviet soldiers, not after what happened after the war.

The boy nodded to him again, motioning for him to follow him upstairs.

Gil walked behind the boy, and another attendant carried his suitcase behind him. When they reached his room, he motioned for the attendant to leave, giving him a few marks. He turned to the boy as the attendant left, motioning for him to come inside his room, pulling his luggage in himself. The boy nodded, a little hesitantly.

"Tell me about your family." Gil nodded to the boy kindly as he set his luggage on the bed, starting to unpack.

"Well… my mother is kind of old. Not very I guess though…" The boy's face grew confused.

Gil chuckled, nodding to the boy to continue.

"My sisters are Adelaide, and Gisella, and…" he stopped, looking down.

"What was her name?" Gil asked, turning to the boy, putting his hand on his shoulder kindly. "Don't forget her name. Don't let anyone forget her name," he nodded.

"Her name… was Bern."

Gil winced, setting his jaw, trying not to let the boy see the pain, thankful he wasn't looking at him. He forced his voice to steady, "Do you… know how she died?"

The boy shook his head, still looking down.

Good. Gil tried to collect his thoughts, "You know…" he tried to continue speaking normally, "I don't think I caught your name…"

"Cort," he looked up at Gil again, smiling a little.

Gil forced a smile, nodding to him, trying to breathe as the pain finally started to subside, "That's a good name. Mine is Gilbert."

Cort looked into his face, worry writing itself on his eyes, "Are you… are you all right, Herr Beilschmidt?"

Gil nodded, the pain fading. "Yes. I'm fine. Sometimes… sometimes the memories of the war get… difficult."

Cort nodded back, looking down again, "Yeah… mama says the same thing… she cries a lot."

Gil sighed, reaching into his pocket again, slipping money into Cort's hand.

"I can't take any more… you don't have to-"

"Please. Take it. Your family could use it. Please." He smiled.

Cort put the money in his pocket, "Danke." He looked up at Prussia, his big eyes shining with tears.

"I would like to meet your family," Gil smiled. "Maybe, I could take you and your family to get dinner tonight. Would your mother be willing to meet me?"

Cort grinned, "Ja! Ja I think she would!" he beamed, "If… if you're sure." He tried to make himself look less excited than he was. Gil wondered if he'd ever been to a restaurant before. There weren't many of them in the city anymore, and they were expensive.

"Very sure," Gil smiled back, patting the boy's shoulder, "Now, you should get back to your work before I get you in trouble."

Cort nodded, looking up at Gil with a smile, "Danke again." He smiled. "I can come and get you after work today, and take to my family?"

"Go home first, ask them if they would like to meet me. Then come get me," Gil smiled kindly.

"Ok! Ok I will!"

"Tell them to wear good dresses, and you, wear good clothes too if you can. We will go to the best restaurant in the city." This side of the city.

"Ok." The boy nodded.

Gil caught something in his face as he nodded. They have nothing to wear. He realized. He said nothing. "Now, like I said, hurry along to work. I'll see you this evening," he smiled, turning back to his luggage.

Cort ran out of the room, almost skipping with joy.

Gil fell to his knees as soon as the door was closed, gripping his chest, breathing hard pressing his hand into his temple. He tried not to cry out in pain. He breathed hard, trying to force oxygen into his lungs. He would never tell Cort or his family how their sister died, never. He put his head in his hands, pushing his hair back, trying to focus his thoughts. He stood, slowly, catching his breath, panting. He looked at the door again with a sigh. Cort didn't remind him of his brother as much as Latvia did, but he had to help him. His family was fatherless, torn apart by the war and everything after. Gil couldn't sit back and do nothing. He'd done too much, he had to do this good thing. Finally, something he could do to start healing the wounds that had been left raw and bleeding when he joined Russia. Finally, a chance to redeem himself… maybe? He winced again, pulling off his jacket and shirt. He started to unwrap the bandage on his arm.

A/N: So... a lot of things happening in this chapter. This isn't the first time Prussia has used those painkillers to just stop feeling anything for a while... but more on that later. This is, in general, something of a lighter chapter. Still some dark spots, but also some hope. Some light for a change. Something good for Gil to do. (Besides annoying Liet. Come on Gil... really?)

So... apparently, I have OC's now. And also I guess Prussia has a soft spot for little kids that remind him of his baby brother. Cort is supposed to be quite a bit younger than Latvia though (I imagine Cort more like 11 or 12), and he doesn't look as much like young Germany. (I believe I said in the first chapter where we meet him that Cort has dark hair?) But Prussia still wants to help him. As far as his sister Bern... well... I was implying what I was implying. If you're up on your Cold War/post-WWII history, you know how Russian soldiers treated German women, (Not well that's how...). More to come on why Gil (and the others) can feel physical pain for some, and not others. That will be explained, though hopefully, it was clear that everything Poland told him is starting to seriously affect him.

I might not be able to update next week, as I will be gone, but I will try to get an update out tomorrow. Then I'm gone from Sunday to Sunday! O_O I will miss you all! but I will return with many more ideas! As I said, I think I can get a chapter up tomorrow though (Maybe two... no promises though).

Reviewers are given cookies and hugs! Thank you all for being so dedicated in your reviews! Kattie, since I can't reply to you, again, thank you so much for your reviews! I'm sorry some of the previous chapters have been traumatizing! *gives extra cookies* Thank you again to all reviewers! 3