16

Decades have passed since that terrible war. It is now spring in the early 1990s and Prussia no longer exists as a nation - in any form. Not only has he been abolished, but the East Germany satellite to the Soviet Union no longer exists, either. So he, Gilbert Beilschmidt, lives in a strange half existence. He cannot feel the people around him anymore, and he doubts he would survive and heal any serious injury the way most nations do.

But that doesn't mean he sits around and wallows in self pity, either!

He's actually on his way back from bugging Austria when the idea comes to him. He grins and speaks of his plan to only one person: Gilbird. The bird lands in his hair and chirps that it's a wonderful idea and that he should have thought of it earlier. Gilbert nearly swipes the bird out of his silvery spikes at the comment, but he decides not to make too much of a scene as he walks out of the train back into Berlin.

His old capital. His old home. Taking a deep breath, Gilbert soaks in the air for a moment. He can't feel the people the same anymore, but he still senses a connection to the city. This place doesn't feel like home anymore, but it carries so much of his history. And his memories.

He walks past old buildings, some being remodeled after years of disrepair. Some of those withstood the war; so many did not. So much history in his nation has been destroyed or swept under the rug, so much has been labeled not worth allowing into public spaces. And, really, he can't blame them. The pain and shame of that war clings to all the German people in one way or another.

Though of course now there's other problems. Internal issues with reunification. The Eastern and Western sides of Germany don't really fit back together in a neat little puzzle piece. There's too many things - technology, infrastructure - where the West sits ahead. Capitalism won out in the end, though, really, there's far more to blame than the ideologies of each side. A lot of good had been done for his people under the communist regime, but Gilbert knows it wasn't enough and the changes were too sudden to mean much of anything. Maybe someday in the far future they can try a different set of ideas.

The world turns and life is always changing, after all.

When he makes it to the Berlin mansion that West claims as his own again, Gilbert takes a good look around the place. West isn't here. There's no one else here. It's so empty. West handles all of the nation's business now. He's the one that talks with their leaders and makes decisions for the people as all nations do. He's probably working hard right now, too.

Meanwhile, Gilbert walks through the empty mansion room by room with Gilbird hovering around him. The bird flies in circles and Prussia takes little snapshot memories. He doesn't plan to be back for a while, after all. He'll grab the little he owns to his name and leave everything else for West. The house, the people, the nation.

It feels a little like saying goodbye, and he kind of wishes West were home to see him off. The decision is a little sudden, but he can't shake the urge to move, to leave this place. Leave and only return as a visitor. God, it's been a hell of a trip, though.

"You think Canada will be happy to see me?" Prussia asks the yellow chick flying around his head. "He'll be shocked for sure."

Tweets respond to him and he laughs. This is going to be fun.

~!~

Germany catches his brother at the doorway, and he pauses with the door open. Silence echoes between them as Ludwig takes in the large duffle bag slung over Gilbert's shoulder and the absurd outfit. His older brother has taken to the new styles of the 90s, wearing jeans with a silver chain around the pockets, a black T-shirt with the words "my chick is awesome" in bold white print. And of course the ball hat he wears off to the side that covers most of his hair, a pair of sunglasses to hide his red eyes, and a black armband around his wrist with an old emblem of Prussia that hides the numbers.

Funny how those haven't disappeared yet. He would have sworn any kind of injury or tattoo would heal up like most other things nations suffer. Then again, they still have their scars. Physical and mental. Maybe there's a connection.

"Bruder," Germany says, standing in front of his brother and refusing to move. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yep!" Gilbert says with a wide grin, handing his key over. "I don't know when I'll be back so you can go ahead and keep this."

Ludwig feels a chill run up his spine. "Wait. You're not - you're not giving up your -"

"Pft, no, not that," Gilbert says, far too casually for Ludwig to relax completely. "Though I feel like the immortality doesn't work right for me anymore anyway."

At this, Ludwig nearly jumps forward. He's been a little distant since his brother returned, since reunification happened. He's been busy. But he still doesn't want to say goodbye now or ever. He's been worried ever since Gilbert mentioned being unable to feel their people, but it wasn't like there was anything he could do. The people did what the people wanted.

"Relax, Ludwig, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Gilbert pulls the sunglasses down and smirks. "Yeah. I'm awesome. I'm taking the last of the money you gave me and getting a plane ticket to Canada."

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The tension falls out of Ludwig's shoulders and he takes a deep breath. He even cracks a half smile. Canada. That nation from across the ocean who tried sneaking into Berlin in the midst of World War II. The nation that Prussia was supposed to guard. The nation that stole his brother's heart when no one was looking.

He takes a moment to look over Gilbert, frowning at how his brother is always wearing something that hides his albinism. Ludwig hasn't confronted Gilbert on it yet - how can he? - but he hopes it doesn't last too much longer. Whatever happened during those awful years must have stuck with him in deeper ways than Ludwig could have suspected. But approaching Gilbert about such things was impossible.

Maybe Canada will have better luck.

Closing his hand around the cool metal key Gilbert gave him, Ludwig nods and steps down the entry stairs to the pavement in front of the house. "I'm glad I caught you before you left, then. I would have been a little upset if you disappeared without saying anything, you know."

"Hah!" Gilbert laughs. "I left a note. You would have been fine."

"I do care about you -"

"I know, I know," Gilbert says as he steps down to stand beside Ludwig, the yellow bird flying circles around them before landing on the hat bill. "I'll call when I get in so you don't have to go into super worried mode. I'm not Italy, you know."

He blushes a little at the mention of his Italian lover. Then he shakes his head. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah. It'll be a nice surprise for Mattie, too."

While Ludwig gapes at the fact that his brother can feel so confident about a surprise visit to someone he hasn't seen in decades, Gilbert cackles and walks away without a care in the world. After a nice distance is gained between them, his brother turns around and waves, a wide grin plastering his face. Ludwig smiles and waves back.

All he can do at this point is wish him the best.

~!~

Canada takes the sheet of paper in front of him and crumples it into a little ball before tossing it into the trash can along with the others. So many sheets of paper thrown into the wastebasket. It's stupid. He should be able to write a letter. He's written so many over the years.

Of course this time is different. Prussia's yellow bird isn't hopping around waiting for a reply. Gilbird isn't tweeting and chirping and cleaning his feathers as he prepares to go out into the snowy wastelands, across the ocean, into possible hostile territory. No one is waiting on him. He doesn't feel rushed anymore.

Yet he can't find the right words to say.

The wall has come down and Germany has been reunited. He knows this much. He watches the news the same as anyone else. He listens to what Alfred says about beating communism when the Soviet Union dissolved. He listens and observes as he does best, but he still isn't sure what became of Gilbert after…

After everything…

Is he still around? He shudders at the thought. Someone would have told him if Gilbert had disappeared, right? Prussia may not be a nation anymore, and Germany may have fallen under complete control of Ludwig, but Gilbert can't have -

He shakes his head. No. He can't allow himself to think the worst has happened. Someone surely would have told him. England. France. Someone would have let him know. Instead there's just silence. No letters from Gilbert anymore. And no news from anyone else. He's left to wonder and worry.

Maybe that's why he can't write a letter. He's terrified of sending it and getting a call from Germany relaying the harsh truth. No. Gilbert is still alive. He has to be. He would know. Right? He would have to know. Oh but he keeps getting this sick feeling in his stomach and his chest aches all the time and -

The phone rings from the kitchen and Canada's thoughts are cut off. He sets his pen down on the oak wood desk, climbs off the stool, and takes a few deep breaths. Once he is calm enough, Matthew tugs his red hoodie tighter around his body and makes his way to the kitchen. The phone continues to ring, calling to him, and the absolute worst thought courses through his mind as his hand hovers by the plastic covering.

What if it's France calling me to say that Gilbert really has disappeared? What if I didn't get to him in time? What if there won't be any relationship anymore? What if -

Chewing his bottom lip he finally answers the call and sets the phone to his ear. "H-hello?"

"Mein Gott, Birdie! You sure took your time answering!"

That's Gilbert's voice.

"Gil?" He clears his throat, fighting the dumb tears that insist on forming in his eyes. "Is that really you?"

"Ja, it's me. Look, I'm calling from a payphone at the airport. I was planning to go all the way to your house, but Gilbird says it's too far to walk and you don't have any special trains or anything that heads that direction so -"

"Wait." Canada blinks. "What?"

There's a light chuckle. "I sure surprised you with this, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, you did. You say you're at the airport? Here?"

"Ja, ja, so come here and pick me up already."

"I - uhm -"

"Unless you aren't interested in seeing my awesome self again. If that's the case, I'll use the last of my money to head back home and -"

"No!" Canada clears his throat. "N-no. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right there. Just, be patient, okay? It's going to take me a little time to get there."

"Sure," Gilbert says, his voice dropping in volume. "I'll wait forever if I have to, though that wouldn't be very fun."

Canada chuckles. "Goodbye, Gil. I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Yeah! See ya soon, Birdie!"

A click is all he hears before the dial tone and Canada has to shake his head, even as he smiles. He can't believe it. Gilbert is actually here. In his nation. He should have felt it. Why didn't he feel the touch of another nation when he's so close? Closing his eyes, Canada sets the phone down and breathes out slowly.

Right. Gilbert isn't a nation anymore. That must be why. He's still around, though. Still alive. He hasn't disappeared. That's a good sign for the future, right? If it hasn't happened yet, then it probably won't happen.

They can be together forever.

With those optimistic thoughts, Canada nods and hurries to be ready to drive out and pick Prussia up from the airport. The smile that's been so awkward and absent now refuses to leave his face.

~!~

Gilbert Beilschmidt sticks his hands in his pockets and whistles a little as he walks through the Canadian airport. It's a little chilly for spring, and he's thought about buying a light jacket to wear since he didn't exactly remember to pack one. He didn't have many things to call his own back at the mansion in Berlin, not after everything had been taken from him and left to rot for all those years. All he has now that matters is in the large duffle bag he carries over his shoulder.

Thankfully, a flute is small enough to carry without any problems, especially when he's padded it around so many clothes. He's glad to have Fritz's old flute, and maybe one day he'll play for Canada. Once he can admit to owning the damn thing at least. But if he stays here long enough…

Gilbird chirps and lands on his shoulder. Prussia picks up his whistling, ignoring the looks from the few people in the airport that hear him, and Gilbird tweets back in a sing-song tone. After a while, he chuckles and stops, but the fun of releasing that tension is kind of nice. Now he just needs to find another way to pass time as he waits for Canada.

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to drop in unannounced, though his Birdie's voice had sounded so excited - if shocked - over the phone. He can't wait to wrap his arms around the younger nation and proclaim his love for the world to hear. He doesn't care anymore. After everything that's happened, he just wants to be with Matthew; nothing else will satisfy him anymore - not even annoying Austria or teasing Lizzy.

He takes a moment to stop in a little store and grab a drink of some kind of flavored water. It promises to hydrate while also having more of a taste than regular water. Not that he cares. Just something to keep him going while he waits outside. The water feels good going down his throat, and he is quick to share with Gilbird, too, though the bird can survive on his own so easily he doesn't usually bother.

Soon enough, Gilbert is standing outside the airport, watching the taxis come and go as people get off one flight or prepare to board. He watches families and businessmen going about their plans, though none of them spare a glance toward him. Which he's grateful for. After the war, he's not too fond of people staring at his silvery hair or strangely colored eyes. The super pale skin isn't something he can cover up as easily, but most folk are pale enough here to not really notice on a passing gaze anyway.

Time passes and he waits, leaning against the wall of the main entrance. He's moved away from all the doors while still trying to stand under an awning so he can stay in the shade, but there's still the occasional person who passes by him with their gaze focused on the ground, on the tickets in their hand, on their watch, or straight ahead. It's interesting how many different people exist in this world.

It's interesting how long it's taking Canada to get here.

Finishing off the last of his water bottle, Prussia sits down on the ground and crosses his legs. He shifts the sunglasses up to rest on his hat since no one is seeming to notice him anyway, and then he decides to go ahead and open the duffle bag to pull his flute out. Somehow, Ivan had found Fritz's original flute way back when and handed it over, expecting him to play for his boss - which, admitting, he had to do even after a lot of persuasion, feeling like a performing monkey the whole time. But at least that meant he got to keep the flute when the wall came down and he separated from Russia.

Now, he opens the case and reverently puts the instrument together. What better way to waste time than to play something into this busy world. It's not like anyone is paying attention to his awesomeness right now anyway. Maybe he can get away with playing softly and not drawing a crowd. The people don't react to this kind of music the way they used to, after all.

He just wants to play around, so he sets his lips to the instrument and blow softly but with firm control. The music lifts into the air all around him and Gilbird settles down on the pavement near his feet, his beady little eyes looking up at him with head tilted. Prussia takes a moment to stick his tongue out at the bird, then goes back to playing like no one else in the world can hear him.

For a few moments in time, he loses himself in the music. Nothing too fancy. Not one of Fritz's compositions or anything. That sort of thing doesn't really work as well when he's not reading the sheet music. Just something nice and sweet. A little too upbeat to be a lullaby, and yet…

The sound carries. Gilbert doesn't notice if people stop at the rare sight. He keeps right on playing, shutting his eyes and losing himself in a world where he's back in his glory days, where life is perfect, where he has someone that loves him. He plays with the music at the thoughts that run through his head, lifting from something sad and melancholy to a happy lilt as he imagines Canada and all the feelings that go along with such an image.

"You play beautifully, Gil."

The words make him cut off mid note and he jerks his heads up to see Matthew standing in front of him with a gentle smile on his face. Instantly, Prussia feels his own cheeks heat up. He clambers to his feet and tries to hide the flute behind his back, which earns a chuckle before he gives up and lets it hang naturally in his fingers.

"You, uh, weren't supposed to catch me like that."

"Hm?" Canada tilts his head, one single lock of a hair curl bouncing with the movement. "Why not?"

"Well, I," Gilbert breathed. "I kinda wanted to keep that for something special."

"And this isn't special?"

Good point.

For a moment, neither one of them can say anything else. They just stand there, trying to be casual, trying not to be overwhelming. There's a light awkward tension as they each wait for the other one to move. Someone walks past them, but neither of them shift or glance over.

Instead, Gilbert lets himself fall into those blue-violet eyes. Those gentle eyes that show more than the innocence he had assumed at first. Every nation has been through hell and back by this point of history, but Canada is really good at picking up and moving on, at finding the best solutions he can and working with what his people give him. He's not one to give up, even if he's soft spoken and far from the worn torn nations of Europe and Asia.

Above all that, though, Canada accepts him for who he is. Matthew is responsible for pulling him out of the darkness when things were at their lowest. He knows it, too. They both know it. Gilbert isn't sure what he's done in return, but he has to remind himself of all the letters they shared when they were separated. All the wishes they made to each other where no one else could hear them, or read them. All the plans for the future.

Well, it's the future now.

Almost as one, they move and embrace. Lips connect and hold for a few, long, beautiful heartbeats. Then they break the kiss and Gilbert starts to say something, only for Matthew to practically glomp him with another hug. Tears are falling from the sheer flood of emotions and Prussia laughs loudly as he pats Canada on the back and clings back just as hard.

"Thanks, Birdie, for everything."

"You're still going to use that nickname?"

"Of course," Gil grins. "Can't help it. Your letters came in by bird and they kept me going in ways you don't even…"

Matthew laughs. "That's fine. I like it. Welcome home, Gil."

Home.

Feeling the spark settle in his heart, Gilbert moves his lips to Matthew's ear and whispers a soft bit of German that he'll forever refuse to translate for him. "Du hast mein Leben gerettet."

You saved my life.

THE END

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read. We've finally gotten to the end. I appreciate all your support. It's always a weird feeling finishing a fic. Like the world has to stop for a moment as I process that, yeah, I'm done. Hope to continue writing in the fandom though I'm mostly chilling on Ao3 these days (under the same name).