Dro: Hey, I finished on time today! Here's your dose of A Crack in the Looking Glass for today, guys! Tomorrow, I'll be back with another exciting installment of World Powers!
Chapter Summary: America takes out one of the fighter jets and assaults the pilot, stopping when he recognizes an old friend. Meanwhile, the resistance argues about how to ensure Russia's death, and Germany is forced to step in to calm them down.
Warnings: Language, Slight Violence
Disclaimer: Sadly, Dro will never own APH
Alfred ducked into an alley as a barrage of bullets bounced off the sidewalk beside him. He ran through to the other side and back out into another street, slipping behind an overturned pickup truck. The fighter jets passed over head, turning around at a wide angle and returning for another sweep. One of the fighters dipped closer to the ground as it flew by, apparently searching for any sign of Alfred's presence. The missed him and kept going.
He pulled himself up to get a better look at them, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Those were Soviet jets. Soviet! What the hell kind of world was this? He looked around at the ruins of London, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. Was he really in some kind of alternate world where the Soviet Union hadn't fallen? The tension built up in his chest. This was not what he'd been expecting. I'm not sure I can deal with this again…There'd been so many close calls with Russia in the past, and to see his threats actually come to fruition…Alfred punched the side of the truck, denting it in.
Bullets blew past him, sending up trails of dust into the air. He ducked as the same fighter neared building level again, searching desperately for its target. Annoyed, Alfred crouched and pushed the truck up in a way that allowed him to lift it. He heaved it into the air at the exact right moment, swinging it around until he'd pent up enough momentum. Then he let it go. It soared through the air, too fast for the fighter to dodge. Just before impact, the pilot ejected, shooting into the air.
Alfred dove out the way as the two vehicles made contact, an inferno erupting then exploding as the ball of flame and twisted metal slammed into the ground. Taking a glance at the burning wreckage, Alfred looked for the pilot again. He needed information. Now. He spotted the man's parachute carrying him safely to the ground less than a mile away. Alfred took off in a run, weaving through the fallen ruins and of once beautiful homes and landmarks. He hit a corner and took a sharp turn just in time to see the man land safely on the ground. He hid back in the shadows, waiting for the unsuspecting pilot to get himself in a vulnerable position.
The man unhooked himself from his seat, stumbling as he tried to stand. Shaking, he started walking forward, trying to contact his comrades. He turned his back on Alfred, looking toward the sky to hail the other two fighters. Alfred took his chance. He lunged from the darkness and tackled the pilot to the ground, tearing his earpiece off and crushing it. The man fumbled for a gun Alfred spotted in his jacket, but Alfred pinned the man's hands long enough to toss the gun aside. He gripped the man's wrists until he heard a satisfying crack, and the man screamed. Letting the man's wrists go, Alfred tore at the man's helmet, ripping it off his head with one hand and raising the other into a fist, bringing it down.
He stopped less than an inch from the man's cheek. Not out of mercy. Out of shock. Familiar blue eyes met his own, equally stunned and wide with disbelief. Light brown hair, strewn about messily, frame his face. His mouth hung open in pure shock, a sputtering garbled gasp emerging from between his lips.
Alfred stayed completely frozen, his brain being pulled in multiple directions. Hit. Release. Strangle. Roll off. Say hi. Alfred's fist began to relax, and he sat up, straddling the smaller man beneath him. Their eyes left never the other's.
"Toris…?"
Lithuania gaped up at him, the shock still firmly in place. "A…A—Alfred?"
"Holy…" Alfred couldn't find the right words. Toris had been the one shooting at him? Toris was a fighter pilot? And then…Toris was still part of the Soviet Union. "You…you work Russia."
Toris' eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "What else is new? Besides you being alive…?"
"Huh?"
"You…you can't be…" Toris' eyes trailed over Alfred's body, as if he was trying to memorize every detail, trying to prove to himself that he wasn't hallucinating. "I know that you…I know you died…you couldn't have survived…not that…" He struggled to make a coherent sentence.
"Wait…I died?" Alfred had no idea what Toris was talking about for a second, then he realized. "Oh, you mean the me from this world." Alfred frowned. "Shit, I'm dead here?"
Toris' lip trembled. "What do you mean 'this world'?"
"Oh, well, long story…" Maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud. He looked down at Toris, noticing the man seemed to be thinking about something. Suddenly, his eyes widened, like he was having a sudden epiphany.
"You." He said decisively. "You're the Alfred from the same world as the other Germany, aren't you?"
"Uh…" How did he know that unless… "You know my Germany is here?"
"Of course. Nothing escapes Ivan's knowledge. Nothing." Toris laughed bitterly.
Alfred frowned deeper. Something about this Lithuania didn't sit right with him. There was something defeated in Toris' eyes, something submissive and broken and rueful. Something really, really bad was happening in this world. A noise caught Alfred's attention, and he realized the other two fighters were coming back. He heaved Toris off the ground, ignoring the man's protests, and slung him over his shoulder. Disappearing into another alley, he ran until he spotted a building still in one piece. He got inside the closed the door just as the jets passed over head.
Toris struggled in arms, demanding to be let go. Alfred set him down, immediately pinning him to the wall.
"You're going to tell me what's going on in this world. Got it?"
Toris met him with resentful eyes. "Sure, but you need to be more specific than that. The state of this planet is a little complicated, if you hadn't noticed. And you need to let me go afterward."
"And why should I? You're obviously working for Russia. You tried to shoot me."
"I didn't know it was you."
"Would you have still shot at me if you had?"
Toris seemed to consider his position but shrugged anyway. "Probably. I can't defy Ivan's orders."
"Are you really that compliant? Are you really so broken you'll do whatever that bastard says? This world…" Alfred laughed, low and dark. "It's really something. Destroyed. Barren. And full of broken—"
"It's not that I'm broken Alfred. It's that I'm being blackmailed."
Alfred's mind failed to catch up. "Wait. Huh?"
Toris rolled his eyes. "Still dense no matter what world you come from, I see."
"What are you talking about? What blackmail? Russia is blackmailing you?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Toris eyes darkened, and he stared at the floor. "If I defy him—at all—he'll torture Feliks to death." He swallowed, biting his lips. "And he promised to make me watch."
Ludwig watched as they debated for the fifth hour in a row. Elizaveta was pushing for an all out assault, pulling out all the tricks they had up their sleeves in one massive final showdown aimed directly at Russia's home itself so they could kill Russia and all his closest allies in one foul swoop. Arthur was for a more subtle approach. He was advocating for assembling a small team to slip into Russia's mansion outside Moscow and take him down in a covert operation. Francis had kept completely quiet the entire time, something that confused Ludwig. Antonio was attempting to be the mediator, but his vain attempts to stop the impending death match between his two friends weren't really helping.
They hadn't really addressed Ludwig's presence, despite the fact he'd come in Gilbert's absence. His bruder hadn't been feeling all that well since…He shook his head, watching Elizaveta threaten Arthur with a frying pan. He wanted to step in, wanted to give his opinions on the matter, but he felt like there was a wall between him and the others. He wasn't supposed to be part of their world, and he kept getting the impression they wanted to keep his as far out of it as possible.
Ludwig wasn't stupid. He was a part of their world. He'd had been for weeks now. And no matter how much he wanted to tear right through the dimensions and settle back in his own world, see Feliciano again, and reclaim his life, he couldn't do so without Arthur's assistance. And Arthur…the man was obviously overworked and at the end of his ropes. The dark circles under his eyes had become even darker since the attack on the London base. He wondered if the man was even sleeping at all. He was always on call, always up and about and fixing emergencies.
Ludwig was afraid Arthur's body might just give out on him one day. The yelling escalated, catching Ludwig's attention. Antonio was standing in between the two competitors now, holding his arms out and trying to get them to calm down before someone got hurt. Francis was still huddled in the corner, his eyes downcast. Arthur was incessantly yelling at Elizaveta, who returned the favor. They were closing in on each other, Antonio in very real danger of being injured by either one of them. Ludwig had enough.
He stood up abruptly, his metal chair clattering to the ground. "Shut up!"
The entire room fell silent. It had been a long time since Ludwig had use his voice in that sort of command. He clenched his fists and beat them on the table, causing everyone to jump. "Yelling and screaming like five year olds throwing temper tantrums isn't going to get us anywhere. Have you ever heard of something called compromise? Huh?"
No one answered.
"How about this? We take your plan," he pointed at Elizaveta, "and use it as a decoy to distract the Russian army's attention while your plan," he shifted his finger toward Arthur, "is put into action in the background. We make it seem like all our resources are being used in a last ditch effort. Meanwhile, we'll infiltrate Russia's home while the majority of his forces have been drawn away by the sudden attack. That should make it easier for us to execute the plan, yes?"
Antonio was the first to agree. He lowered his hands. "See, guys? We can work both ideas in. Agreed?"
Elizaveta glared daggers at him but nodded. Arthur mumbled a gruff agreement. With that settled, they got to work organizing their plan. Elizaveta took over the planning for her all out attack, arranging which regiments needed to be where when. Antonio volunteered to help her, leaving Arthur fewer choices for who to bring with him. They didn't want the humans involved with this. The covert operation would be a battle of nations and nations alone.
"Who to bring?" Arthur murmured to himself.
"I will go, Angleterre." Francis volunteered. Arthur jumped at his voice. It was the first thing Francis had said to him all day.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite." There was something in Francis' eyes that disturbed him, but Arthur wasn't couldn't be sure what it was. Francis had been acting strange since the London base raid, and Arthur was worried his long time friend was starting to lose it. Breaking his eyes from Francis', he shook the thought out of his head. This wasn't the time to try and pick at people's emotional problems. They were all hurting in their own ways, and the only way to remedy that was to take Russia down once and for all.
"Great. Now, who else? Ludwig, do you think Gilbert will be up to it?"
"No doubt." He answered. "Any opportunity for revenge will be his cup of tea."
Arthur nodded. "We need a few more though. I need to call Kiku and see if he can spare a Nordic or two. If only I could get in contact with Matthew…" His words faded. He still hadn't heard from Matthew. He'd managed to get a hold of the Canadian forces, finally, but the general he'd spoken to had said Matthew had been on the front lines, which they'd lost contact with. Arthur felt a nervous pit grow in his stomach. Losing contact was never a good thing. For all he knew, Matthew was…
"I'll go."
The entire room went silent for the second time that day.
"What?" Arthur stared at Ludwig like he'd grown another head.
"I said, I'll go." Ludwig knew they'd react this way.
"No, you won't. Are you crazy?" Arthur stood up, sliding his chair backward in a sharp grind against the floor. "We can't let you do something this dangerous with us. If you die…"
"And if you die, I won't be able to go home at all, will I Arthur?"
Arthur's words died on his lips. It was the truth, of course. If Arthur died on this mission, Ludwig would probably never get home. But how could he justify letting someone he'd promised to help participate in something that could very well be a suicide mission?
"I know exactly what you're thinking, Arthur, and I don't care. If nothing else, think of it as me protecting my interests. In order to get home, I need you. If you're going to be risking your life, then I need to be there to make sure don't die."
Arthur knew he couldn't fight Ludwig's decision. They needed all the help they could get. And Ludwig was a strong fighter and a good strategist. They could definitely use him. They really had no choice but to use him.
"All right." The tension in the room was tangible. "Welcome aboard then. Think you could help me with planning? I could use your expertise."
Ludwig nodded. "Of course."
In the back of his mind, Ludwig wondered what the repercussions of this would be. If he died here, would anyone at home ever find out what happened? The answer was probably not. Feliciano's face flashed through his mind. That was another thing. That was why he had to do this. If he stayed here and Arthur died (which was highly likely), Ludwig would spend the rest of his life without Feliciano. If he went and protected Arthur and they succeeded, then he'd be able to Feliciano again. If he went and they all died in combat, then what difference did it make? His options were pretty limited at this point. He had basically a one in three chance of ever seeing Feliciano again. Of ever getting home. Of ever having his normal life back. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try his hardest to make that chance a reality.
Dro: Aw, I always feel bad when I do something mean to Lithuania. He seems like such a nice person. Anyway...
Next Chapter: Lithuania explains the recent history of the world to America, who also discovers some very interesting things about his parallel self. Meanwhile, France cracks and contacts the Italy brothers, informing them about the resistance plans. Russia is nothing but amused.