Chapter 74

"Who are you dreaming about?"

Prussia lifted his head suddenly to the sound of Russia's voice. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. He winced at the chains that held his wrists above his head. He shifted to his knees, trying to relieve some of the stress on his arms. He didn't look at Russia, moving again, trying to ignore the burning through his arms. His fingers were numb.

"How long have I been asleep?" He asked simply.

"An hour? Maybe two. It's hard to keep track of time like this," Russia shook his head, looking down.

Gil could hear the stress in his voice. He turned to look at him. Russia was still chained with his arms behind his back, leaning forward, his knees bent to keep the stress off his wrists. Gil winced. There was no way Russia could avoid straining his arms, shoulders, and back. He tried not to care.

"How… how are you holding up?" he asked finally without looking at Russia.

"I'm doing fine… you?" Russia looked over at him.

"Same," Gil lied. He tried to ignore the cracked dried blood on his chest. It felt stiff and the smell of his own blood made him feel sick. Or maybe it was the drugs. He couldn't tell. He could feel the needle mark in his neck. He hadn't expected General Winter to be kind enough to give it to him. He was more grateful for the mercy than he would dare to express or show. He didn't want the General to think he was weak. The stronger he was, the less pain he'd have to survive. He tried to move, tried to make himself more comfortable. He felt pins and needles in his fingers as he tried to move them. He glanced at Russia again, then away. He didn't want to talk to anyone, least of all Russia, but the silence made it harder to keep his mind off the screaming marks on his body. He tried to think of something funny to say, something to distract himself, but he could barely think in complete sentences, let alone jokes. He closed his eyes again, sighing deeply, trying to remember one of the few happy memories he had since the war, though even it was tainted with horror. He smiled faintly, forcing back tears. He wasn't going to let Russia see him cry, or worse, General Winter. He didn't know when he'd be back.

"Did I fall asleep, or did I pass out?" He hoped he'd fallen asleep. It stung his pride to think he couldn't stay conscious.

"I don't know. Once he gave you the drugs you didn't last long," Russia's voice was weak.

"Did I say anything stupid while I was high?"

Russia smiled a little, shaking his head, "Unfortunately, nyet."

"I still hate you, by the way. Just because I'm talking to you, don't think I don't!" Prussia turned away, then looked back at Russia.

Russia smiled sadly, "I know you do. I don't you I'm not angry with you for that, didn't I?" He turned to look at Gil's face.

Prussia looked away again. He didn't like the look in Russia's eyes. He hadn't seen Russia so weak in hundreds of years, not since he was a child. He bit his lip. He'd been less than kind to him, even as a child.

"You know, I was kind of an ass when we were kids."

Russia nodded, looking back at Prussia, "Da. You were."

"Ja, um… yeah."

"Are you trying to apologize to me?" Russia looked back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Um… ja? Nein… I… don't know…?" Prussia looked away.

"It doesn't really matter anyway, does it? I still own you, GDR."

"Thanks for that reminder."

"Don't talk to me like that," Russia almost snapped.

Prussia looked up at him, a shiver running down his spine. He'd expected Russia to change just because they were tied up together? He shook his head at his own stupidity. Russia wasn't going to change.

There was a long silence, neither of the two countries wanting to speak to each other.

Russia's arms and shoulders burned unbearably. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest where General Winter's knife had left its mark. He turned to look at Gil again, who'd turned away from him.

"You never answered my question, GD-, Gil…"

Gil turned to look up at him again, "What question?"

"While you were sleeping… who were you dreaming about?"

"Why do you ask?" Prussia looked away again.

"I thought I heard you… crying…?" Russia's voice was almost kind.

Gil sighed deeply. He didn't know if he wanted to answer Russia. Maybe when he was less sane, he would use it again him. He wasn't sure it mattered, "I was dreaming about… her…"

"'Her'?"

"The girl you made me kill… so many years ago now…" Gil closed his eyes, still turned away from Russia. He tried to choke back the tears. He didn't want Russia to see them, "I bet you don't even remember her name, do you?"

"Adelaide Muller, da?"

Gil turned to look at him immediately, shocked, "You… you do?"

Russia nodded, "Da. I remember. I didn't like doing that to you…"

"Oh really? You didn't like it?" Prussia turned away, his breath catching in his burning chest.

"She couldn't live, GDR… you know that… you knew that then-"

"Why did you make me kill her!?" Gil looked back at him. He didn't care if Russia saw the tears anymore. His half-numb hands closed into fists.

"I was loosing you, I needed you back… And I'm sorry it had to be that way. but-"

"Would you have killed the boy?" Gil cut off Russia's words. He didn't expect an apology, and he didn't want one.

"What?"

"If I hadn't…. if I hadn't done it… would you have shot the boy?"

"Does it matter if-"

"It matters to me!" Prussia snapped, looking straight ahead. He couldn't look at Russia.

Russia sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He remembered everything almost as vividly as he was sure Gil did. His hands around Cort's shoulders, the end of his pistol pressed into the boy's head. The soft light brown hair that tried to hang in the child's face. The way the boy had clutched at his arm, screaming for Gil not to kill his sister. He'd had his finger on the trigger, threatening to fire if Gil didn't follow orders. Adelaide's tears, her mother's screams, the look on Gil's face. The pain in his own chest as all the memories of the pain his Alexei endured while watching his mother and sisters die… He hadn't wanted to do that to him again. He couldn't have done that to him again…

"I don't know. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't followed my orders. But I wasn't going to let her live. And I was going to make you kill her. You couldn't have gotten out of that. And your choice meant no one else had to die."

Prussia shook his head, "What a great answer," he said under his breath.

"I probably would have had my men shoot the little girl first, then the mother, I would have saved Cort for last… I hear the sister is doing well, by the way, on the other side of the wall… again… and what an escape she had… da?" Russia turned to look right at Gil's face, which had turned to his in shock, "Da, I know all about what you did."

"You never-"

"Nyet. I've been too busy with other things. Besides, having to deal with your boss is punishment enough for you. Even I don't like him. He's useless. Useless and frustrating!"

Prussia half-laughed, "Oh look, something we can actually agree on."

Russia smiled a little, trying to move his shoulders a little, trying to find a different uncomfortable spot to give his sore muscles a chance to relieve his more-sore muscles. He looked back at Gil again, surprised to see the very slight hint of concern in his eyes. "I'm fine."

"I didn't ask," Gil looked away. He bit his lip. He wanted to be satisfied to see Russia in pain. He wasn't. "Try leaning back against the stone. If you do it right, you'll take pressure off your knees and your shoulders. The cold will probably feel nice on your back too. It'll help."

Russia looked at him, confused, "Chto? What" He corrected himself to the language they both spoke at the confused look on Gil's face.

"I saw one of my prisoners do that once. He lasted days longer than the others, so I assume it helped," Prussia still didn't look at Russia.

Russia sighed, slowly trying to lean back far enough to rest his shoulders on the black stone, stretching his legs forward. It still was far from comfortable, but it did relieve his shoulders and arms. He let his head fall back against the stone and took a long, deep breath, the first he'd been able to manage in hours.

"Spasib-" he stopped himself, "Danke, Gilbert."

Prussia looked up at him, shocked to hear his own language coming from Russia's mouth. "Bitte…" he whispered, turning away again. He wasn't sure he liked Russia speaking German. It felt both reassuring and violating. He already owned him, he didn't necessarily want him speaking his language. But something about hearing a voice other than his own speak even just one word of his language was more comforting than he would admit.

"The chains he used for you," Russia's voice was considerably less strained, "The bolt in the wall is loose. If you work on it hard enough, it'll probably free your hands, at least from the wall."

"And make General Winter mad? That sounds like a great idea."

"It might be worth it."

Prussia considered it. His arms still burned. He wasn't sure he actually had enough strength to pull the bolt from the wall. Part of him wanted to try it. He tried not to listen to that part of him. He looked back at Russia. The man's eyes were closed as he leaned back against the black stone. His chest was covered in as much blood as Prussia's own was, maybe more. Prussia saw dark red marks and thin bleeding lines across Russia's ribs. He didn't think he was supposed to ask about them.

"Did he do that while I was out?" Prussia nodded to the marks.

Russia nodded slowly without opening his eyes, keeping his head resting back.

"And?"

"And I didn't make a sound," Russia said, almost proud of it.

Prussia sighed, shaking his head, "How long has he been-"

"As long as I can remember," Russia lifted his head, sighing deeply again, "Like I said before, there's nothing he's done to you that he hasn't already done to me, and much, much worse, many, many, times."

"Nyet! Nyet, Pozhaluysta! Nyet!" the little blond boy screamed, grabbing at the arm dragging him down the staircase. He looked up at his sisters huddled at the top of the stairs, the younger crying on the older's shoulders. He kicked and fought, looking up into the icy grey eyes that stared straight ahead, never looking at him.

…

Terrified violet eyes looked up at grey as the giant held a knife to his neck. The boy didn't move, almost too afraid to breathe.

"Don't scream."

Russia gasped, turning his head to the side, looking away from his own memory. It didn't feel like his. It felt like he was looking at someone else, some other little blonde boy, so weak, so terrified, crying so much… he'd gotten stronger, so much stronger. He let his head fall back against the stone again, keeping his eyes open. He didn't like what he saw when they were closed.

Prussia looked away. He'd never seen Russia trembling before. It scared him. If General Winter could terrify Russia… he didn't want to think about it.

"R-" Gil stopped himself, looking up at Russia again, "Ivan?"

Russia looked at him instantly. It had been a long time since he'd heard anyone other than his sisters use his name, his real name. "Da…?" he asked almost hesitantly? What did Gil hope to gain by using his name?

"Have you ever been happy?"

Russia looked away again. He hadn't expected Gil, or anyone else, to ever ask him that. He didn't have to think to answer it.

"Da," he smiled, closing his eyes, sighing deeply, "Da…" he whispered, "I was the happiest man in the world… once… jut once…"

Prussia looked up at him, confused, "What happened?"

"Catch me!"

Ivan turned, looking up with a laugh as Anastasia jumped from a tree branch just above his head. He caught her into a hug, "You shouldn't go jumping out of trees, silly little thing!" he grinned.

"Well, you caught me didn't you?" She beamed, sliding down from his arms and running towards her brother, who sad in one of the garden's chairs, a sad look on his face.

Ivan walked up to the fragile dark-haired boy, "Why so sad, Little Sunshine?"

"I really did want to run and play… but Dr. Botkin said I can't today because my legs were bleeding yesterday…" he looked down.

Ivan lifted his chin gently, "Well… since you're being so very brave about it all, and cheerful too, about I take you on the ship for a ride this evening, da?"

Alexei's face lit up, "Really? I love sailing! I love it so much!"

Ivan laughed, "I know. So, today isn't really so bad then, da?"

Alexei nodded, grinning.

"And now I suppose we should take you inside for dinner…" Ivan pretended to look around, "But it seems we left your ride back at the house…"

Alexei laughed, "You carried me out here, remember?"

"Oh, that's right… I guess I'll just have to carry you back then." He smiled, turning around and kneeling, "Get on," he nodded to the boy. He smiled as the child climbed onto his back, and he carefully caught his legs, "Am I hurting you, Alyosha?"

Alexei shook his head, "Nyet. I'm fine. Just don't run…?"

Ivan smiled, nodding, "I won't run."

"Perfect!" Alexei grinned.

…

Ivan put his hands on Olga's shoulder, resting his chin on them, looking down at her sketching.

"What are you working on, now?" He grinned.

She jumped, pushing him away with a smile, "Don't sneak up on me like that! I might pull my gun on you!"

"Oh! I'm terrified, Olyashka."

Olga pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "You should be."

Ivan smiled, looking back at her sketch, the wind blowing his hair in his eyes. He tried to move it out of his face gracefully, failing miserably.

Olga laughed, taking the ribbon bookmark she kept in her sketchpad and tying it around his head, pulling his hair back, "There. Now you can see."

Ivan rolled his eyes, "Really?" he pointed to the bow.

Olga giggled, "It doesn't really suit you," she smiled.

"Hmm…" he pulled the bow from his hair and pushed the stray piece of hair back over her ear again as the wind tried to blow it into her eyes, "How are you sketching in this wind…?"

"Carefully," she smiled, "But the fountain does look beautiful in it, don't you think?" She pointed to the sprays of water that leaped off the streams coming from the fountain.

"Da, beautiful," he whispered.

"You didn't even look."

"I don't have to," he smiled.

"Ivan… please…" she blushed.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," he smiled still, looking at the fountain, "I agree. It is beautiful. Now, will you show me your sketch?"

Olga laughed, shaking her head, turning her paper so he could see it, holding down the corner to keep the wind from turning the page.

Ivan smiled, "It's beautiful too," he looked up at her again.

…

Ivan brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his laughter as one of the female guests at the very important dinner squealed suddenly, pulling a strawberry from her shoe. He looked right at Alexi, who bit his lips into his mouth, trying not to giggle. He gave the boy a slightly chastising look, far too entertained to be really angry. He looked up at Nicholas, who was considerably less amused. The Tsar was apologizing profusely to the female guest, saying he had no idea how such a thing could have happened.

Oh yes, Ivan thought, I'm sure it had nothing to do with Alexei sneaking under the table earlier… he smiled at the boy again.

…

Ivan smiled as Alexei leaned against his side, the whole family sitting in the upstairs sitting room with a few of their closest friends, mostly servants, and Alexei's doctors. It was Christmas.

"Aren't you going to open your present, Alyosha?" Ivan asked, petting the boy's hair gently.

Alexei shook his head, "Nyet. It's from you, so I want to save it for the very last present."

"Oh?"

"Da! Because it will be special."

Ivan looked at him, his heart melting. How could this angelic little boy care so much about him? He almost wished he didn't. He had so much blood on his hands, he'd done so many terrible things… but this child loved him. He looked up at the whole family, tears welling up in his eyes. Maria was hugging her new doll with a giant smile on her face as she tried to show Anastasia, who was far more interested in one of Alexei's toy soldiers than Maria's doll. Tatiana sat next to Alexandria, both of them looking over the details of the embroidery pattern she'd just opened. Nicholas and Olga also sat side by side as they flipped through a giant book of the works of great artists together, discussing quietly what they liked or didn't like about the works.

Ivan looked back down at Alexi, "I think you have the last present now, Sunshine."

Alexei smiled, turning to the package wrapped in shiny silver paper. Slowly, careful not to rip it, he pulled the paper away from the paper box. He looked up at Ivan, smiling.

"Well, open it," Ivan nodded.

Carefully, slowly, Alexei opened the box. He looked up at Ivan instantly, his mouth open with surprise, his eyes lighting up with joy.

Ivan smiled, "Do you like it?"

Alexei nodded, to shocked to speak. He lifted the tiny ship from the box, holding it up for everyone to see it. The glittering candlelight shimmered on the glossy details.

"Did you see the name?" Ivan asked.

Alexei turned the ship to look for the name, "The Alyosha…" he looked up at Ivan again, tears filling up his eyes, "It's the most beautiful ship in the whole wide world."

"Maybe someday we'll build it for real, da?"

Alexei nodded, "Da!" he set the ship down carefully, then reached up to wrap his arms around Ivan's neck, crawling up to sit up on his knees on the couch so he could hug Ivan properly.

Ivan wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him gently, but firmly too.

Alexei laid his head on Ivan's shoulder, letting himself be held. He whispered gently, "Can you be my brother forever?"

Ivan smiled, nodding.

"Ivan?" Prussia whispered. He'd never seen Ivan cry before, not once. But tears streamed down the man's cheeks. "Ivan?" he asked again.

Russia opened his eyes, not looking at Prussia, "Happiness… is not the fate I've been given… but… but I glad… but I'm glad that just once… I got to know what it was like…"

A/N: This chapter... This chapter broke my heart. I think I cried writing this one more than any of the others. This is the "Real Russia" That Lithuania mentioned so early on in the story. A man most don't get to see... Gil only gets to see it now because he's so weak and so alone. They both get to have some important conversations here. And you all get to learn more about Russia. And I get to write about the Romanov family, which is one of my favorite subjects in all the world. One of my favorite things to write about. I've studied them so much... so much... such a beautiful family. Btw, that thing with the strawberry in that woman's shoe? Yeah, Alexei really did that. ;)

Reviews are, as always, so deeply appreciated! Thank you guys so much for continuing to review and read this story! Hugs to you all! And some Russian treats for you. Strawberry's Romanov (Strawberries, Sour Cream, and Brown Sugar. It's deliscious I promise) for you all. A dish created for Nicholas II and his family in fact. Enjoy! And again, extra hugs!