Chapter 60

Gisela looked in the mirror, adjusting her lace arm band over the bandage, being sure to cover it. The long wound where the bullet had grazed her arm still stung, but it was healing, slowly. She looked up at her face, sighing deeply and reaching for her lipstick. She pressed it to her lips, swiping the color over the dry, chapped skin. She tried to blend it with her finger, trying to hide how caked and thick the makeup was. The lights would hide it anyway.

"So, it's your first day?" A pleasant, sad voice, came from behind her.

Gisela turned to see a very young woman, with dark brown messy hair, smiling at her kindly, standing in the open doorway of her dressing room. She nodded to her, "Yes. Here. I've worked before, though I'm not really nervous…"

"Did some guy do that to you?" The girl motioned to the bandage on her arm, visible where the lace had slipped down.

Gisela pulled the band up again, sighing, "Yeah, sure, some guy…" She tried to keep it over the bandage.

"Here," The girl walked up to her, pulling some tape out of her small bag, "This'll help."

Gisela smiled, nodding, letting the girl use the special tape to adhere the lace band to her skin.

"Just use some water when you want to get that off," the girl smiled, "Don't worry, they're nice here," she nodded.

Gisela nodded back, looking away as the girl left the room, walking down the hallway. She looked up at her face again, then turned away. What was she doing? She walked up to her clothes rack, searching through endless lace and satin. She looked back at the jeans and shirt Gil had given her, lying on the floor where she had dumped them as she changed into her robe. She sighed deeply, wanting nothing more than to put them back on and leave. She didn't know where she'd go. She wasn't sure she'd care. Anywhere but where she was. Anything but having to laugh and smile at another man who didn't care what was inside her head. She looked away, turning to the rack of clothes again.

…

Lithuania knocked on the white door of Poland's room, pausing to listen for a response. He frowned, worried.

"Felek?" he asked, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt, "Feliks are you ok?" He waited for an answer. The blonde country hadn't come to dinner. He called once more, still without a reply. He wrapped his knob around the handle of the door, not sure if he should open it. He shook his head, deciding to trust his gut instead of his head. He opened the door, leaving it open behind him. The room was dark, lit only by the last of the evening light peeking through the drawn curtains, and the dim light from the hallway through the open door. Lithuania stepped closer to the bed slowly, then ran, putting his hand on Poland's shoulder, his voice panicked.

"Feliks? Feliks wake up!" he moved Poland's soaking hair out of his face, laying the back of his hand on Poland's forehead. He looked back towards the door, worried, "Feliks can you hear me?"

Poland groaned, nodding very faintly.

"I'll be right back, ok?"

Poland didn't respond.

Lithuania set his jaw, shaking his head, his hands trembling. He ran into Poland's bathroom and took all the cloths he could find from the shelves, turning the water on as cold as it could be. He soaked the clothes, ringing them out slightly so keep them from dripping, and carried them back to Poland, laying them across his forehead and arms.

"Feliks, what's going on?" Lithuania asked, rubbing his friend's shoulder, trying to comfort him. He jumped the light dimmed suddenly as someone stepped into the door way. He turned, shaking.

"Poland's economy is breaking. His people are striking, they're trying to fight me. It's stupid. Look what they're doing to him…" Russia smiled, shaking his head.

"What does he need? What can I-"

"You can do absolutely nothing I'm afraid. He needs medicine of course. But I'm not going to give it to him. His country is going to deal with its own problems. I have other things to attend to."

"I can send-"

"Nyet!" Russia snapped, "You can't do anything either. Your bosses and I have already discussed this. You'll keep Feliks alive here, and his bosses will handle his people on their own. They want a more 'peaceful' solution than if I step in. Too many people there hate me for some reason," Russia smiled, almost laughing, "If I get involved, I'm going to crush the little… 'Solidarność' going on. His bosses want something less dramatic," Russia shrugged, "I'll humor them. As long as they can keep everything under control."

"Is… is America getting involved?" Lithuania wasn't sure he should ask.

"Not yet, but he's threatened to. I've taken steps to make sure he doesn't become a problem."

"How long is this going to take, Ivan? Why don't you just help!?" Lithuania took a step back as Russia took a step forward, hiding his shaking hands behind his back.

"I've given his bosses a deadline. This winter. If they haven't solved their problem by then, I will, but no one wants that… do they?"

Lithuania looked at him, shaking his head, then back down at Poland, "Please… please give me some medicine. Let me help him… please…"

"I will allow a small amount of help towards Feliks, but not Poland, is that understood?" Russia took another step forward, silhouetted against the light from the hallway.

Lithuania shuddered, nodding, noticing Russia's hand was on his pipe.

"All I need you to do, Toris, is keep Feliks alive, da?"

Lithuania nodded, "D… da, Mr. Russia… I'll keep him alive."

"Khorosho!" Russia grinned, turning to the door, glancing back at Lithuania as he reached the hallway, "Don't do anything you'll regret, da?"

Lithuania shivered, nodding. He watched Russia's giant shape disappear past the door. He fell to his knees, shaking, bringing his hands to his face, forcing himself to slow his breathing down. He stood, turning back to Poland, who met his eyes.

"Liet…" Poland whispered, his voice so weak Lithuania could barely hear it.

"Tak?" Lithuania picked up the cloth on Poland's forehead, folding it and wiping away the sweat on the blond's face, flipping it to the cooler side and replacing it on his head.

"Liet… I'm not scared…"

Lithuania set his jaw, worried, his hands shaking as he rubbed Poland's shoulder again.

"My people…" Poland whispered, closing his eyes, a few pained tears slipping from them.

"You don't have to talk, just rest-"

"They're starting to fight back, Liet… they're starting to fight back…"

…

"Sir?" Schulz stood straight beside Gil's bed, his hands behind his back, "Sir?" he asked again, louder.

Gil groaned, bringing his arm over his face, shaking his head.

"Sir, I'm afraid I have to wake you up now," Schulz said, looking down at Gilbert.

Gil groaned again, louder, "How much did I drink last night?" he brought his other arm over his face, muffling his voice.

"I… I didn't count sir…"

"Mmmph," Gil growled, turning to his side, bringing the pillow over his face, "What do you want?" he asked, barely intelligible through the goose down.

"You've been called back to Moscow, sir…"

Gil sat up instantly, blinking in the light, bringing his hands to his face. He swore, shaking his head, "Close the d*** curtains, would you?" he winced, keeping his hand over his eyes.

Schulz looked down at Gil, rolling his eyes. He walked to the other side of the room and drawing the curtains, "Better, sir?" he asked, walking back up to the bed.

Gil nodded, "Sure." He pulled his hand away from his eyes, still blinking in the light that insisted on invading the room. He looked up at Schulz, "He wants me to come back?"

"I… I'm not sure who's calling for you, sir. I just heard that it was Moscow."

Gil held back a laugh, turning to sit on the bed, falling back onto it, pressing his hands into his face, "Why is it light outside?"

"Because of the sun, sir," Heinrich said.

Gil moved his hands, looking up at him, "Well aren't you smart," he rolled his eyes, sitting up.

Schulz ignored him, "There's a car coming for you in an hour, sir."

Gil nodded, standing. He looked down at the military pants he had forgotten to take off the night before, and adjusted the waistband, wincing from the button having pressed into his skin all night. He sighed, walking up to his suitcase, pulling out the case and taking his morning dose. He glanced at Heinrich, who looked away immediately.

"There's a lot you don't know, Schulz," Gil said simply, zipping the case closed and replacing it into its pocket in the suitcase.

"I know that's a lot of drugs, sir."

"Well, you're certainly taking this role of babysitting me quite seriously, aren't you?" Gil snapped, annoyed.

Heinrich set his jaw to keep from replying.

"All right, what is it? Say what you want to say." Gil turned to look at the young man, walking up to him, crossing his arms over his chest.

Schulz said nothing.

"That's an order. Speak."

"I lost someone to drugs once, sir. I… I'm not anxious to see anyone else hurt by them."

"Mm," Gil looked away, nodding, "That's a good reason. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't take them in front of you."

"You're going away this afternoon, sir, so I suppose it doesn't matter."

"I guess not," Gil turned away, walking back towards his suitcase, "Wait, did you say afternoon!?"

"You did have quite a few drinks last night, sir…"

Gil rolled his eyes, taking his black button-down shirt from the hanger. "Do you know anything about why I'm being called back? I'm going to miss the celebration if I leave now…"

"I only heard it has something to do with Poland, sir."

"Fel- that um… doesn't sound good. What's he- what's going on?" Gil shook his head, mentally kicking himself. He found being hungover unhelpful to keeping secrets. He slipped on his shirt, glancing at the mirror to see the bullet wounds were continuing to heal quickly. He started on the buttons of his shirt, looking back at Schulz, who watched him, confused.

"What's wrong, Schulz?"

"Nothing, sir," Heinrich shook his head but continued to watch Gil. He'd heard a few rumors while he'd been training. Rumors he'd dismissed as fairy tales. He wasn't sure anymore.

Gil finished buttoning his military jacket, walking back to the mirror to begin adjusting it to near-perfection. He glanced back at Schulz through the reflection. He didn't like the look on his face. It was too contemplative. He'd said more than too much. He didn't want Schulz putting the pieces together.

…

"Who's the kid?" A man with not quite enough grey hair for his age leaned up against the bar in the club, motioning towards a young, dark haired man sitting in the back corner.

"Not sure on his name…" The bartender shrugged, glancing at the young man, "But he never orders anything. The boss said we're not supposed to ask questions, just accept it. He just sits there. Every few days he'll show up. He stays for hours, and barely watches any of the dancers. He's a bit weird if you ask me." The bartender shook his head, finishing drying the glass he held, setting it back down.

"Hmm…" The man shrugged, "I'll take a beer please, the darkest you've got."

The bartender nodded, glancing up at the young man at the table again as his boss sat next to him. He picked up the glass again and brought it to the tap.

"Well?" The owner of the club, Klein, sat next to the young man, looking at him kindly.

"Well, what?"

"Any luck?"

The young man shook his head, "Nein…" he sighed, "I made the full circuit tonight… every club within ten miles of here… nothing," he sighed deeply, "Is there anyone new? Someone I haven't seen yet?"

"We do have a new girl, yes," Klein nodded, sighing, "But I don't know… it doesn't sound like-"

"I want to see her."

"She'll be out in an hour or so…" Klein shrugged, "I don't want you going back there and bothering the girls."

The young man sighed, "Fine. I'll wait."

"Can I get you anything?"

The young man shook his head, "Nein. I'm fine. Actually…" He stopped Klein as the man started to walk away, "I would ask for a glass of water if that's all right."

Klein nodded, shaking his head, "You're a strange one, Hans."

The young man shrugged, turning back to his book, not bothering to look up at the stage, trying to drown out the music and voices that were almost unbearably loud. He looked up almost forty pages later as the music quieted and Klein took the microphone to announce the new girl. He froze, looking up at her face as she walked onto the stage. He bit his lip, hardly daring to believe it could possibly be her.

…

Gisela waved to the other girls, sighing deeply as she opened the large metal door that led to the outside world, and another night sleeping in a bus station. She turned to her right, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She glanced behind her, seeing a man, silhouetted by the dim light above the door. She stopped, turning to look at him, shaking. He didn't move, just stared at her. She couldn't see his face.

"Can I… Can I help you, sir?" She asked, her voice trembling.

"Oh God, it is you…"

She saw the man shaking his head, bringing his hands to his face. "Excuse me…?" She asked, taking a step forward towards him. She gasped as he looked up, taking a step back so she could see his face. She dropped her back, bringing both of her hands to her mouth to muffle a gasp.

"Gisela…?"

"Cort!"

She ran to him, throwing her arms around him, letting him hold her. She could hear the tears in his voice.

"You're ok… You're alive…" he whispered over and over, "Oh thank God…"

She sobbed on his shoulder, gripping his jacket, holding him as tightly as she could, her voice too choked with tears to speak.

"I've got you…" Cort whispered to her, "I've got you… I've got you, you're safe now…" He kissed her hair, his own breath choked and his voice thick with tears, "I'm going to take you home. You're going to be ok…"

She nodded, still unable to speak. She just held him and let her hold her. She was going home…

A/N: So. Many. Things. Happening. For those of you who asked about a Cort and Gisela reunion... here it is! It has always been my intention to reunite these two. From the moment we heard she ran away. Because: happiness. Some joy for this family. They need it. Life hasn't really been too kind to these two, and they will have a lot to talk about. More scenes to come with them, I promise. :)

So, what's going on with Poland? The Polish Crisis of 1980-81 (more me squishing history by the way to make that timeline work. I'm still running most things like it's the mid-70;s, and so I'm kinda moving this forward? I'm only squishing a few years...). It would be quite long to explain all of it, but basically, Russia didn't invade, instead, letting Poland deal with its own mess, which got martial law declared eventually... but it is seen by many as Poland's first really big step towards toppling the Soviet regime in Poland., which is quite a good thing! So in it goes. A lot of it started with economic trouble, resulting in a strike, which started a union. So, Poland is very, very sick. And Russia isn't going to be much help. GDR Was involved, as was America (so he'll be showing up soon!) in the real historical event, so stay tuned!

Cort being called "Hans" in the club. I'll probably have him explain this later, but just in case that was confusing: he's using a fake name. That's all, lol.

As always, I LOOOOOVE reading all of your reviews! Thank you to all of you who review so faithfully! Cookies and treats and lemonaide and all things wonderful for all of you! This chapter was a mix of emotions, so I hope those help! :)