Chapter 43

GDR ran into Russia's office, opening the door and staring at the bigger country, terrified.

"I just heard that-"

"I know…" Russia looked up. He was standing, leaning against his desk, his gloved hands and arms shaking. His voice was quieter than GDR was used to hearing it, and his eyes were tired, "America's president just resigned."

GDR said nothing, stepping fully into the room. He closed the door behind him and stood to attention, "What's our plan?"

"I don't know yet. His new president means business. I'm already losing this war…" Russia shook his head, sitting down in his chair, exhausted.

"Are you all right?" GDR walked forward, closer to Russia, looking at him, concerned.

Russia nodded, "Yes, I will be," he sighed, pressing between his eyes for a moment before looking back up at GDR, "How's your skin?"

GDR looked down at his hands. The skin was peeling badly, but it was less painful than before. "I'm all right."

"And you've learned your lesson, Ptitska?" Russia smiled a little, kindly.

GDR nodded, "Of course. I was stupid in Berlin. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. All is forgiven." Russia nodded back with a bigger smile, "You're a good friend, GDR."

GDR smiled back, "Spasiba."

"Now, I suppose you will be wanting another assignment?"

GDR nodded again, "Ja, if you have one."

Russia smiled, "Yes. There is a celebration being planned for you. 25 years as the German Democratic Republic. I want you to be in Berlin for the festivities."

GDR nodded.

"I also want you to find any more spies and kill them. I need to make sure your country is strong. America's going to fight back harder. We need to be ready. Your men need to be ready."

"Oh they'll be ready," GDR smirked.

"Khorosho," Russia stood, walking to GDR and putting his hand on his shoulder.

GDR looked up at Russia and smiled.

"Never betray me, GDR. Never betray me, and I'll keep you safe."

"You always do," GDR smiled.

Russia smiled back, then sighed, "I suppose you need your morning dose, am I wrong?"

GDR shook his head, "No, I'm ready."

Russia nodded for GDR to follow him to his desk. He took the drugs from the small drawer where he kept them. "Arm or neck today?"

GDR shrugged, "Arm?" He didn't care anymore.

Russia agreed, readying the syringe.

GDR took off his jacket and set it on the back of a nearby chair. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the bruised, peeling skin hidden by the black fabric. He let his head fall back in relief as the drugs began working almost instantly. He opened his eyes wide suddenly, shaking his head, pulling his arm away from Russia. He fell to his knees, leaning his back against the desk. He covered his ears, trying to blink back the faces that flashed in front of him. He looked up, screaming again to see the four figures standing in front of him, the burning smell invading his senses, stinging down his throat. He coughed, covering his mouth. He looked down at his legs, shaking his head, struggling as he felt Russia's arms wrap around him.

"Sh…" Russia's voice was calm, too calm, "Sh, you're all right…" Russia slid the needle into GDR's neck, giving him another full syringe.

GDR blinked hard, his mind blurring. He couldn't make out shapes anymore, everything turning to black shadows. The smell was oppressive. He could barely breathe.

"Stop struggling," Russia held him tighter, holding his wrists, trying to keep him from fighting back.

"Bitte…" Prussia shook his head, struggling still.

"Stop, GDR, you're safe. I'm keeping you safe, remember?"

GDR nodded, trying to relax. Another syringe of the drugs shot into his blood. He closed his eyes, shaking violently.

Russia helped him to stand, "You're going to be all right, I promise. I'll keep you safe. I take care of what is mine," Russia smiled.

GDR nodded, forcing himself to smile at Russia. He felt sick.

"You should go pack," Russia nodded, "Or do you need to see General Winter again today?"

Gil shook his head, looking up at Russia, terrified.

"Maybe you do…?"

"Nein! Please… I… I'm ok…" He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head.

Russia looked at him, disapprovingly, "You're stronger than this. I need you to be stronger than this, GDR. Don't you want to be stronger than this?" Russia shook his head.

Gil looked up at Russia, nodding. He bit his lip. He didn't want this, any of this. He didn't want to be 'stronger'. "Russia please…"

Russia sighed, shaking his head again, "I'll call him in. It won't take long, I promise. I'll be right here."

Gil said nothing, shaking his head, gripping his own arms as Russia called for General Winter. He wanted to fight back. He would fight back. He wouldn't just let Russia do this to him. He couldn't let Russia do this to him. He jumped as the door opened and the giant of a man walked into the room.

General Winter looked irritated, almost more inconvenienced than angry.

Gil shivered as General Winter walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He didn't want to see him. He lowered his arms, clenching his hands into fists. He would fight back. He shivered again as General Winter walked up to him, towering above him, and grabbed his shirt, ripping it open. He gasped as General Winter threw him to the ground. He looked up as Russia knelt above his head and grabbed his wrists. He struggled, kicking at General Winter as Russia held his wrists into the wood floor.

"No, please… please don't…" he barely whispered, still struggling. He closed his eyes as General Winter knelt on his legs, stopping them from defending him. He looked up at General Winter again as the man pulled out a knife and pressed the blade against his chest.

"One sound from you, and you know what I'll do," General Winter's voice was annoyed, sharp with hatred, thick with power.

Gil looked up at him, shaking, arching his back in pain, turning his head to the side and gritting his teeth as the knife dug into his skin. He squirmed, barely able to struggle. He didn't cry out. He couldn't. The last time he'd made any noise General Winter had nearly killed him for it. He managed to glance up at Russia. The bigger country's face was worried, upset. Gil didn't care. He didn't care if Russia didn't like what was happening. He wasn't stopping it. Gil gasped as General Winter's fingers closed around his heart. He struggled again, trying to move his legs, trying to kick General Winter away. He looked to the man's face as he felt his fingers grow tighter around his heart. He opened his mouth to scream in pain, but didn't let it escape. He saw General Winter smile.

"You're doing well," General Winter grinned, his eyes flashing with bloodlust.

Gil gasped for breath as General Winter released his heart, pulling his bloody hand from his chest. He traced his finger over the wound, freezing it shut instantly. Gil struggled, trying not to cry out, turning to his side as General Winter stood and Russia released his wrists. He coughed then stood, looking into General Winter's face.

"Spasiba…" he whispered, breathing hard, trying to stand up straight, dizzy from pain.

General Winter clapped his bloody hand on Gil's face, "You're getting stronger. Every time you do get stronger. How many times has it been now? Seven?"

"Eight," Gil whispered, shivering. Eight times General Winter's hand had nearly crushed his heart. It hurt. Every time he felt pieces of himself slipping away. Hate hated it, but he needed it. More and more he was losing himself, becoming exactly what Russia wanted him to be. The pain was fading, slowly, but surely. He was almost free.

"Now, do what Russia asks you to do, Ptitska," General Winter smiled, "Together, you will both be stronger," he grinned, then turned to Russia, his expression changing to anger. He brought the back of his hand across Russia's cheek, hard, grabbing the giant country's scarf and pulling Russia towards his face, "Keep you little pet under control. You're losing him again. When am I going to have to stop saving you? Just try to be useful for a change," General Winter snarled, letting go of Russia's scarf and walking out of the room without another word.

GDR glanced at Russia, "Are you-"

"Da. I'm fine. Ignore it. You're feeling better now, da?"

GDR nodded, "Da."

"Khorosho. Now, we must plan for your trip."

…

"America?" Germany walked into the young country's room, sitting across the desk from him.

America's face was pale, his breathing shallow. He smiled up at Germany, nodding, "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm getting stronger by the minute, can't you tell?" he smirked, "Russia doesn't stand a chance!"

Germany nodded, but didn't smile back, "You're new president…"

"He's so much better! He isn't lying to people, and he's actually going to try and end this d**n war!" America smiled still.

Germany nodded, "Since… things have changed…"

America sighed deeply, shaking his head, "I still don't have the resources to help Gil, Germany, I'm sorry… if I did I would save him in a heartbeat, but I just don't. I can't. I'm sorry…" America put his hand on Germany's arm for a moment, reassuringly, "But as soon as I can, I'll help you free him, I promised that much, and I intend to follow through with it!"

Germany nodded, saying nothing.

"Ludwig please… please understand."

Germany stood, nodding again, "I understand. I hope your new president is strong. He'll need to be."

"I know you're upset, but-"

"No, it's fine. Rest. Heal. Get better. Defeat your enemies first." Germany sighed deeply.

There was silence for a moment, just long enough for it to become uncomfortable.

"How's the kid?" America tried to change the subject, breaking the silence.

"What kid?" Germany looked at him, confused for a moment.

"The one who got shot? Oh, what was his name…? Cory?"

"Ah, you mean Cort," Germany nodded, "He's doing well."

"His leg?"

Germany sighed, "He's getting used to the prosthetic. He's walking better though, sometimes he can even manage without the cane."

"That's good," America smiled sadly, "Did he give you more information about the other side of the wall?"

Germany nodded again, "Ja, a lot actually, especially about Gilbert. I'm already making preparations for when he comes back."

"The drugs?" America looked down, he understood.

Again, Germany nodded, "Ja. I have some of the best doctors working on how to help him. They say it won't be easy but…"

"Well he's going to have great help," America looked up at Germany, smiling.

"Danke," Germany looked down. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to help his brother once he crossed the wall. How badly damaged was he? Cort had said he was nothing like himself, that he didn't even stand up to Russia anymore. He was more nervous than he would admit to. How much damage had Russia done to his brother's body, or worse, his mind?

"You should go now," America motioned towards the door, "I have a lot of work to do," he sighed, then looked back up at Germany with a smirk, "It's pretty hard being the hero sometimes, you know?"

Germany rolled his eyes with a very slight smile, "I wouldn't know."

"Hey…" America sighed again.

"Kidding. I know you work hard. Like I said, rest well. This is the first time something like this has happened to you, isn't it?"

America nodded, "But I'll make it! I always do!"

Germany sighed, nodding back, "Good. I'll go then."

"Say 'hi' to Italy for me!" America grinned, watching Germany walk towards the door, "And thank him for the pizza. It's definitely cheering me up."

Germany smiled slightly, "I'll be sure to tell him. He'll be glad to hear it."

"Yeah. I bet." America smirked, watching Germany leave. He sighed, looking back towards the stack of papers on his desk. He crossed both arms over the wood and let his head fall into them. It was going to be a long day.

A/N: Another update for you all! Because I love you! (and I'm not sure if I'll be able to update this week due to filming, we'll see. (my call time is 8:45 tomorrow, and I'm dying of happiness guys... it's been 5:30 am most days, so I have been usually dying of early-mornings... *is a night-owl... obviously...* it's 1:13 am uploading this... because I'm stupid like that XD)

Lots of things happening in this one. Russia's being nice (as much as he knows how), and trying to help Gil (even though he's failing). Gil is slipping between wanting to feel everything and wanting to feel nothing. He's just not doing well in general... speaking of General... yeah, he shows up again. And this isn't just the second time he's done this to Gil, as we heard. If this continues for long...

An update on Cort. Poor kid... but Germany is still keeping tabs on him, and his story isn't over yet. In case there was confusion, yes, he lost the leg that Russia destroyed. More details on that later, but he's walking!

Obviously, there were many references to Nixon's resignation in this one, and how it's going to change some things! For those of you interested in a date, this puts us firmly on August 9th, 1974.

As always, thanks to reviewers! I LOVE reading all your reviews! :D :D :D And thanks for the lemonade and pretzels Kattie. Here are some more for you! (fresh pretzels, the best kind!) A thought! I listen to a LOT of music while writing this story, and if you are interested, I could put some of the names of the songs down here in the notes. I'd also LOVE to know what music you guys are listening to that this story reminds you of! :D Just a thought! XD Hugs and cookies for all! And Pretzels! And Lemonade!