Songs: Mein Herz Brennt (Piano Version)- Rammstein, The Kill- 30 seconds from Mars, Out of sight- Spirtualized
His red eyes were closed as he pulled the trigger. It was the first and only time that he had pulled that trigger without a uniform on.
It began with the fall of the Berlin Wall. He struggled so hard to feel. He would do anything that would take the pain away. Codeine became Morphine, Morphine became Heroine, and Heroine led to more. Nothing took the emptiness away. Memories would flood his mind, all the pain that the wars piled on him. He became more and more paranoid as the days went on.
It was becoming so bad that his brother was considering making him see a psychiatrist. Any time anyone would visit they would be turned away. "Tut mir leid, Gilbert is not up for company." Really he didn't want anyone to hear the murmurs and accusations of the albino former nation. He wanted them to remember him as he was, not the raving lunatic in the basement.
Finally he decided to get out, free himself from the partially self-imposed prison. He held the Makarov in his pocket, still afraid that the Russian would try to bring him back to Moscow. The man who had broken his mind would be the type to do that wouldn't he? The war was entirely his fault. The atrocities his brother committed were all on his head, because he had trained him. He had made him into the nation he had become.
Part of him had considered turning that pistol on himself. He was nothing more than a burden, a memory of the past, a relic; but he knew how much his brother hated messes and he wouldn't think to leave that mess for his brother to clean up.
His footsteps echoed in the alleyways of Berlin when he heard a familiar voice. No, Roderich should be at home in Vienna, not here in Berlin. "Please, let me go, I just took a wrong turn." That was so like him; getting lost and into trouble.
The other man's voice had a menacing timbre his words threatening. "Now why would I let a fine piece of ass like you go when I can have a taste for myself?"
The Prussian rounded the corner to see the larger man pressing his Roddy against the wall. No the Austrian hated him, this he was sure of. How would one explain the fact that he hadn't even bothered to visit him in all the months since his release? Regardless, the glint of a knife in the twilight caught the Prussian's eye and without thinking, the Makarov was in his hand. "Let him go!"
"Oh look we have a goody little two shoes who thinks he can save the day." The larger man reminded him of someone. No, he wasn't going to take the Austrian and screw him up like he did the former nation.
He lifted the pistol and took aim. "Nein, you verdammten Arschloch!" His eyes closed as he squeezed the trigger. It was the first time he had killed a man when he wasn't in uniform, and it would be the last.
He stood there the gun still smoking in his hand as the sirens started to wail nearby, the look of shock when he realized he had shot a normal human, one of his brother's citizens. His eyes blurred and he fell to his knees.
The Austrian stood there and gazed at the man who had held his heart for so long. "Gilbert…" It was soft, and he was amazed that the Prussian had stepped in to save him. Shocked more so that he had left the house, as he was just on his way to see him. He knelt before him, for once ignoring the compromising position and wrapped his arms around him. "Danke."