"Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have mad or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broke; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused."
Alan Cohen
Pre-note:
I would like to warn you; in this chapter it will start getting into the groove of years and a new time flow. I like to believe nations (because of their lives beginning longer) human years are very quick to them. So from now on, years here and there will be skipped if nothing really exciting happened in them or if they did and are not mentioned, they will be shone in the future in a flashback.
Ludwig sat at a metal table, running his fingernails against it smooth surface to create some sound to break the silence. He had stuck in here for two hours or so and currently the last an hour and a half alone.
Left to his thoughts was an absolute horrible idea on the behalf of the Allies; he could sadly suspect that maybe that was one of their tactics to get information out of him to help them win against Kiku.
During the war, he and Kiku hadn't been that close. The Eastern nation had a different way of doing things not to mention that they needed a translator to speak to each other when they joined together. Thank goodness that Kiku had learned English near the end of their relationship, however.
It was three weeks since he had been brought to the Allied headquarters.
He could tell it was England- boring and dismal did nothing to improve his mood. And Ludwig could still not see Gilbert or Feliciano. He was going to go on a rampage if he did not see one of them anytime soon. Even Lovino would do.
Anyone besides the Allied bastards that kept him imprisoned in either his room or this basically holding cell, they had gotten on his nerves lately (especially with the constant talking behind his back and hearing them say "kraut" all the time).
What seemed to feel like a lifetime, did Alfred come in and seat himself down on the table, holding a collecting of papers in his hands.
"Okay, Ludwig," Alfred grinned, leaning back in his chair and sticking the butt of the pen into his mouth, biting down on it lightly.
"Since we've been interrogating you for like a month straight…" The American flipped one of the papers, revealing the one before it to be an American calendar with scribbles of words on each day with either red or black ink but at the top labeled to be "May".
"I'm gonna tell you what we've been doing to you over the past three weeks and what we plan on doing with you in the future." Alfred continued, placing the packet of paper on the table, their blue eyes meeting.
"We've arrested all the people that pose as a security threat. Soooo, combining Francis, Arthur, and I we have," Alfred closed his eyes for little bit, doing the math in his head, "around 492,500 people."
Ludwig raised an eyebrow. That was quite a lot of people in prisonHonestly, he was glad that Alfred wasn't (sounding like it) going to tell him how many Ivan took. No one ever it made it out alive easily there. The Soviets weren't the most trusting people.
"And your mind must be thinking, 'Golly, why in the hell would Alfred be telling me this?' well, Mr. Ludwig Beilschmidt, cause your people actually need a sense of security."
Oh, Alfred was in his annoying nickname mood today.
It was better to Alfred's stressful mood and the quite offensive nicknames followed by his stress relieving smoking habit. Ludwig hated the smell and just smoking in general, everyone had done in during the war, it had been disgusting. He had gone to the lengths once of smacking one out of a general's hand. Ludwig had stormed out of the room before they could yell at him though.
Hopefully during the reconstruction Ludwig could get him to quit that one-day.
"We're going to go through and rename all your streets and public buildings. After we do that, we'll select homes and other buildings to set up temporary governments before we get all official and everything."
Alfred nodded to himself. He glanced up at the other blond, searching the German for any signs of questions.
Ludwig didn't look like he had any questions, so that was an okay pass for Alfred to continue his spiel.
"Next month, we will also withdraw my troops along with Arthur's out of Eastern Germany cause Gilbert is now under Ivan…" Alfred kept pausing in-between his list of things they were going to do to keep checking the piece of paper.
"And do a bunch of reforming stuff."
Alfred buzzed his lips together with small mumbling to himself.
"And ya'know, there'll be other stuff then just that. Arthur and I want to combine zones and get Ivan and Francis too. I doubt Ivan will cooperate…"
He wasn't sure why he had brought so many papers when they had such little to talk about. Alfred had way too many things on his mind today- dealing with Ludwig's reconstruction and putting Kiku back into his place.
He stood from his seat and turning on his heel before stopping and facing Ludwig at the table.
"Anyway, Ludwig, I want you to understand that this time we will make sure that nothing can happen again. I know what it's like to feel the physical pain of the people, trust me, and I don't want to see you weak like this. It's not natural. So, I plan on being your plan supervisor, like the big cheese," Alfred grinned, a light coming back into his eyes that Ludwig hadn't seen in days, "As you know, reconstruction isn't easy nor fun. I'll make sure you get back on your feet."
The American then continued his way to the door, opening it.
"Thank you, Alfred, I appreciate it." Ludwig said.
He was being honest.
Ludwig did not want to go through the past twenty years all over again ever. He did regret not doing something to stop them or anyone that wished to hurt people, but the people influenced Ludwig's emotions with their actions. They had all been swayed by poverty and tragedy. Revenge had been crucial at the time.
This time, Ludwig was going to be in control. He was determined to not let them influence bad decisions. This time, he was going to make sure he did things right.
Alfred flicked his hand before leaving, "No problem, Ludwig."
Now Ludwig had to wait until someone got him out of the godforsaken room.
Possibly this was the time to convince Arthur or Francis that he could see Gilbert or even Feliciano. He needed someone he held dearly to.
Someone who that Ludwig needed to know if they were all right, that Gilbert and Feliciano were safe and that none of the Allies laid their gloved hands upon.
Someone Ludwig loved dearly.
"Do you know what color your hair is Ludwig?" Feliciano giggled as he sat in the others lap, reaching up and playing with the hair that he combed forward in an attempt to get rid of Ludwig's uniform look.
"What color?" Ludwig asked softly. His blue eyes gazed down at the amber brunet, the other's gentle hands running through his hair.
"It's like a combination of honey and milk."
"Honey and milk?" Ludwig repeated with an amused expression.
The little Italian giggled once again with an excited nod. "It's like honey but not quite enough. Like if I was making tea and I decided to poured in honey to sweeten it and then milk to get rid of the strong sweet flavor. "
That was quite of an odd explanation.
A crooked smile appeared over the German's face. The kind of smile Feliciano recognized very well when Ludwig's corners of his mouth would begin to perk up but he knew that the other was fighting it. It always made Feli laugh more.
Feliciano sat up a bit so that his bottom sat in Ludwig's lap instead of just his head. His amber eyes flickered over the scenery of the Italian countryside. He knew that his German lover enjoyed his country so much, he just didn't know why.
But Feliciano did agree that it was beautiful. When Ludwig was having hard times in the war or just came back from fighting on the front lines, they usually came to Feli's little cottage to admire the refreshing blue eyes and crisp air.
It must be comforting to Ludwig, Feliciano thought as he sat there on the hill with him, he couldn't go home unless he wants gunpowder to fill his nose, the smell of death, ashes littering the floor… I would love Ludwig to stay here with me forever- in our own world on this hill. But, we're loosing this war. Ludwig's people can't do anything to stop the Allies from advancing…
"Ludwig?"
"Yes, Feliciano?" Ludwig replied, his head tilted back to gaze at the lovely blue sky that matched the other's eyes.
"If we win this war, can we stay on this hill forever?" Feliciano asked quietly.
In truth, they both knew that there was a small chance of their success. The two people they had to worry about was Alfred, and Ivan who seemed driven more by his power hunger than any possible justice value.
"Yes, forever."
The German loomed over the other, their eyes meeting. Feliciano warmly smiled up at him, which Ludwig couldn't help but return the smile with the same warmth in his eyes.
The warmth in Feliciano's eyes was soon replaced by glistening water, bubbling at their edges. His thoughts and doubts tended to crawl in his mind, and since the weakening of his government due to that he had already surrendered (that didn't mean that he still didn't hang around with Ludwig even though others discouraged it).
"What if we don't?"
Ludwig turned the small Italian's body to face him but kept him in his lap. After doing so, he cupped the other's face.
"Feliciano, even if we don't win this war, don't think I'll ever abandon you. I will always be there, so if you need my help, call me."
Even after the kind words, the tears did not stop.
"T-They will take you away from me."
Feliciano couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks despite Ludwig using his thumbs to smear them gently away.
"T-They will interrogate me. The Allies will hurt you. They'll do horrible things…"
"Shh, Feli," Ludwig hushed, lowering his face closer to Feliciano's. In reply, the smaller man brought up his hands to stop from getting his tears onto his lover.
"As long as I love you, I'll keep you safe from harm," one of the blond's strong hands drifted from the side of his face up to his ear. He gently tucked a couple messy brown locks behind his ear.
Feliciano's crying begun to die down, taking deep breaths in instead and his bright, brown eyes squeezed shut in protest. If he opened them, Ludwig may be gone and this might had been all just a dream.
"I love you too, Luddy," Feliciano mumbled quietly, his eyes finally fluttering open after moments. If his friend did disappear, then he still knew that the dream version of Ludwig knew that he loved him too. But to the Italian's relief, he was still there.
Ludwig winced slightly as he pulled the other into a kiss. Just one kiss that contained love, reassurance, and a little bit desperate too, leaving no hints of lust.
Afterwards, Feliciano wet face contorted in confusion. "Why did you wince?"
"Northing, just a pain in my neck."
"It has to hurt if you wince at something, Ludwig, you have a high pain tolerance," his Italian lover muttered, sitting on his knees now and pulling the other's head down for a closer look.
On the side of Ludwig's neck, blood bubbled from an incredibly red patch of skin, black brimming the edge of the newfound wound. The burn continued to travel up the side of Ludwig's face in the time span that Feliciano was looking at it. His amber orbs dashed over to the blue ones in worry.
"I-It's nothing, don't worry about it…" The blond tried with a semi-reassuring smile but Feliciano knew better to not lie in these situations.
Feliciano stood up and gingerly grabbed onto the German's arm, pulling him up into a standing position. "What are they doing?"
"They've been bombing Berlin nonstop this whole month," Ludwig sighed, slipping their hands together and interlacing their fingers.
"Where else are the burns?"
"Along my spine and coming up to the base of my neck. They just started appearing now, so the fires from last night must have gotten out of control now... I believe their goal is to break my people's spirit, but gladly, it isn't working." The blond nation snorted, giving their hands a firm and steady squeeze.
Feliciano smiled gently, casting his eyes down before up to make sure they were headed in the correct direction. There was the cottage, the small farm cottage on the top of the hill surrounded by colorful flowers. The flowers that he and Grandpa Roma had planted long ago.
Many wonderful memories had their called this cottage home.
"I'm pretty sure I have some aloe," Feli said out loud, his lips pursing together in thought as he began to swing their hands back and forth.
"Danke schön."
"I haven't done anything yet, Luddy." The Italian laughed, a pleasant grin appearing on his face.
Ludwig rolled his eyes. That wasn't the only thing that he was thanking Feliciano for. The Italian had given him hope and even though sometimes he was a pain in the ass, he meant well. He meant to be in his life as Ludwig was meant to be Feliciano's life.
There was a connection between him and the one he felt a not just a romantic attraction to, friendship and possibly even sexual to. He probably would never admit the last one though (it was kind of obvious since Gilbert kept telling him to do the do with Feliciano despite his protests and embarrassment).
Even if Feliciano believed it or not, the Italian was there for him in his times of need.
Maybe not physically, but mentally. He was a great listener, he had such a pure heart, and Feliciano was everything that the German wasn't. And he loved him for it.
"Arthur, let me see Gilbert, please." Ludwig said to the Brit as he escorted him back to his room.
Arthur glanced back at the other as he led him to this room before shaking his head.
"You know I can't do that."
"Then, at least let me see Feliciano."
"I can't do that either." Arthur said emotionlessly.
It wasn't worth it anymore. Every time Ludwig demanded to see his family or technically his lover, he was met with a negative reply. But, he was determined to not believe them. He needed Gilbert and Feliciano.
Ludwig looked behind himself, studying the guards' faces before his head flicking back. Damn Allies. They could at least let him take a shower, but for the past three weeks he had only gotten two. His blond hair was matted with grease- he probably didn't smell good.
That was not his biggest problem.
What constantly was on Ludwig's mind was his own country. He could damn the Allies as much as he wanted for the next couple years. That wouldn't help anything. It would probably back it worse if he had said it out loud.
Even though the people's emotions seemed much calmer during the war, he felt steadily hungry. He knew his people were starving; every country in Europe had limited rations.
Besides that feeling remaining every hour of every day, Ludwig could not stand to be with himself alone in a room without anything to do. He assumed that the Allies realized that since they had given him a typewriter. That didn't help either for the purpose of the typewriter was to write down accounts of the war. It was still better. When he had the paper, he could write without reliving what he was talking about.
But, when left alone in isolation, flashbacks came violently. None of them were good.
That was the mental damage.
There was physical damage as well. Ludwig was stuck with a broken arm, his right one to be exact. The whole left side of his neck and face were crawling with burns. Finally, because of the war being over, they were actually starting to heal.
Accompanied with the burns on the left side of his neck, on the left side of his face he was sporting various ugly bullet-grazing marks that had sliced through his blond hair. They still weren't as red as the burns, but due to that they might be easily infected, Arthur had decided it a good idea to wrap bandages around the side of his head. He had made the bandages cover his upper eye for above his eye he had also suffered some injuries.
Growing up, Ludwig hasn't a fan of pirates. He still wasn't. The problem was that he now looked like one.
There were other wounds on Ludwig's now weakening body. He still looked pretty strong, and yes, he still was it's just that his energy was always drained and his mind was blank, he couldn't seem to be able to control his thinking.
Snapping back into reality by one of the guard's butts of his gun shoved into his back and some ugly French words, Ludwig couldn't help but dangerously glare at the guard.
He was not in the mood- everything hurt. Even though it sounded cheesy and he would never admit it, his heart hurt the most.
Arthur dismissed the guards, opening the door to the German's room before ushering him quietly in and following him inside.
Ludwig sat down at the desk in the corner, looking out to the window, watching the trees sway gently in the wind.
"When will I ever be able to see them?"
Arthur pulled up a chair, turning it so that it's back pressed up against the wall.
"I don't know, Ludwig. You may be able to see Gilbert soon, but for Feliciano, it may be a few years."
He already knew why. It was better to keep two countries that are reconstructing separate especially when they were allies in a war.
"A couple of weeks ago, we gave Feliciano something," the Brit muttered, standing up and rummaging first through his uniform coat pockets, "he told me to give them to you right where hey were ready..."
After a while, Arthur moved down to his trousers and ran through their pockets. Nothing. "Hold on a moment, Ludwig."
-oooo-
When Arthur returned, he seemed slightly off-put, his clothing ruffed and his hair a tad on edge. But he managed to regain his composer as he took his seat again.
And with gloved hands extended, he held out a small manila envelope.
"Since Feliciano cries a lot and Lovino yelling at us to let him out soon, Francis decided to give him a camera. I'm not sure how much film was in there, but here."
Ludwig took a hold of the small envelope in his hands, undoing the small flap on top and pulling out a large chunk of photographs.
Arthur stood as he watched the other removing the photographs ever so gently it was a little funny. Ludwig was strong, but he treated the papers like if he held too tightly they were to disintegrate. He seemed too absorbed in the pictures to notice Arthur heading for the door.
The Brit opened up inside of his breast pocket, pulling out the camera he had given to Feliciano early. He stood a little bit hidden behind the door, taking a picture and making sure the flash did not go off. Ludwig did not notice.
Arthur would remember to get that developed.
The nation was too engrossed in the silly and loneliness in the pictures that Feliciano had taken to notice that the Brit was now gone.
The one he had found himself to be particularly fond of is that Feliciano standing in front of the Italian's door to his room, his arms up in the air and a smile stretched as wide as he remembered it. He must have put the timer on to take that one.
A couple other of the photographs were Feliciano holding the camera and taking a picture of himself in what looked like bed sheets and others taken in the same style of taking pictures of himself were all over the room. He had taken some photographs on his room, the bookshelf in the corner behind the door, a closet, and the clean, white bed.
It made Ludwig smile.
Feliciano was healthy looking. His eyes were full of hope but there was a small sadness hidden behind them.
He had a few scratches on his face and adhesive bandages everywhere. In the one of him standing in front of the door, he had several on his legs, arm, and neck and especially the one on his nose and upper cheek on his face made him look even more of a child.
The smile on Ludwig's face grew.
Then it broke.
The smile fell from his face and was quickly replaced by the blurriness of his eyes.
A photograph was not enough. He wanted Feliciano, here, with him.
But that wasn't going to happen.
Their photographs were already old. On the back, in Feliciano's cursive had been written the date. Two weeks ago.
They too, would grow old and fade.
Soon enough, maybe Ludwig was cease to remember the way when Feliciano laughed so much that he started snorting.
Or the first time when Ludwig confessed his feelings.
They would all be memories. Memories that would be forgotten and replaced with an aching void that was already beginning to form.
Notes:
Thank you everyone who wrote reviews. You have empowered me to write another chapter of this fanfiction.
To be honest, I have a passion for writing this because I don't have a large knowledge of the time period. It keeps my interest for the politics and reconstruction in different areas going on in the world. Because of that, it's hard to get uninterested in the subject you have 1945 all the way to 2014 to cover and every single day something different happens in the world. It's like all of the fanfictions I've ever wanted to written rolled into one haha.
The order of events in the story will mostly be told chronological. All things in the war will be told according to flashbacks and or the country sharing them with someone else.
On other sites where I have posted my stories, they should have a reference list of all the websites I used :)
I hope to update this every Thursday or Friday.
Reviews are lovely and keep me writing (;
"I was calling, for the last time.
We'd been here before; they found pictures in the snow.
I could tell your eyes, looked beneath the blue.
I woke underneath the trees, for the first time."
You Are A Memory – Message to Bears