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OoOoOo
December 12th, 2014
America sighed, knowing that today was just another day wasted. E-mails, phone calls, entertaining the other countries with smiles and polite laughs. There were times when she hated to bureaucracy of all this utter bullshit.
She'd done rather well, in avoiding Germany the rest of the day. Her head was too wrapped up in bittersweet memories of things that could never be again. She rubbed her throbbing temples, blowing out a breath. She felt his eyes on her once or twice during the meeting.
Her body would know the weight of his gaze anywhere. She kicked off her shoes, and took off the jacket to her overly stuffy business suit. She smiles grimly at the America flag pin on the breast. Her memories crowd with her secret shame.
There are times she hates herself, and most of them stem from negative emotions toward other nations. Italy was her main focus for this feeling, and yet she had to laugh at how ridiculous it all was. She ran a hand through her hair, shuddering as she felt the phantom sensation of Germany's fist in her hair.
Fuck.
Being around him was making her go insane. America took a steadying breath. She needed a shower and something to eat.
They had an unspoken truce. Neither of them had ever breathed a word of her time under his control, and surprisingly, Prussia hadn't made mention of it. America knew she could never confess what had happened to the allied forces. How could she?
What could she ever hope to tell them? That she loved the country that had forcefully subjugated her? But, she did. Oh, how she did.
The memories were drowning her.
OoOoOo
August 1st, 1952
She's heard rumors about the German blockade being built a year ago on June 24, 1948. It was too painful for her to do much of anything other than pray for Germany. He was likely being torn apart and it felt as if she were in agony with him.
Because she suffered horribly without him.
America played the fool, the act so wondrously perfect that no one could detect that she felt as if she were dying inside. Her smiles were just as radiant as they had been prior to December of 1944. Her laughter was boisterous and infectious. It was the greatest act she'd ever preformed and in it she was truly a sight to behold.
The female nation clung to the vestiges of her battered pride and held together her bleeding heart.
She was successful in refusing to intervene, her world turned on its side. She would have been content to try and piece back together her psyche. However, the Soviet Union blocked the Western Allies' railway and road access to the sectors of Berlin under Allied control. She should have known that Russia would turn on her, now that the largest threat had been removed.
She had felt that he would, an inclination or instinct had always made her just a bit more suspicious of the larger nation with the vacant smile.
So much like her own these days. Russia, looked at her the longest when they'd had a conference right before his treachery. America had worried that he somehow knew. However, the rational side of her brain understood that it was only her paranoia, not his intelligence network.
General Lucius D. Clay, in charge of the US Occupation Zone in Germany, was the one America personally went to see when word reached her of the suffering of the people. She gave the order for the Berlin Airlift. It was headquartered out of Wiesbaden Army Airfield. America silently coaxed the Allies to lend aid. The Allies supplied almost 9,000 tons per day of supplies to the beleaguered city until the blockade was lifted on May 12, 1949.
She never said a word to Germany, but she caught a glimpse of him once in a photo of the city after the worst had passed.
Her fingers gently traced his face, uncertain of the strong emotion threatening to claw its way out of her chest. Crystalline tears filled her eyes and spilled onto the picture. Hastily she wiped the moisture off the picture so as not to ruin it. She placed it back in the file as she struggled for breath.
She missed him as keenly as if she'd lost a limb.
A new joint United States European Command, abbreviated as USEUCOM, was established today on Aug. 1, 1952. Today, the Army headquarters at Heidelberg, formerly known as EUCOM, became Headquarters, United States Army, Europe.
And all she could wonder was if Germany knew she was there? She'd shied away for years, but now time had eased some of the sting of her confusion. Her blue eyes, shielded by Texas looked over his country with a sense of longing.
She saw him everywhere she turned still.
However, her stay wasn't meant to be. Even though the Cold War was thawing, Russia was still an ever present threat. America leaves, never seeing him and never knowing if he even wanted to see her again.
OoOoOo
July 15, 1958-1966
It was warm morning when America dressed for another day of defending the world, strolled into a conference detailing the latest conflict.
Most days she's struggling to keep up with each and every nation that wants to be her ally and those that want nothing more than to watch the world burn. She impatiently waits for her coffee from the secretary, as she turns her attention to the presentation outlining the plan of action. Today, July 15, 1958 USAREUR forces are ordered to assist the Lebanese government. Lebanon looks at her from across the table, not terribly pleased and more than a bit shaken.
America squares her shoulders, flashing a reassuring smile. She'll help the nation anyway that she can, not wanting a repeat of the bloody war from a decade ago. They agree to send her Task Force 201, the Army component of Operation Blue Bat . She thought it a slightly poetic name and she talks with Lebanon, allowing the country to express its concerns over the impending conflict.
She holds back the battle-ready look she always seems to hold these days as it teeters on the edge of her goofy air. She practices the epitome of walking softly-talking loudly- but carrying a big stick. She did miss Roosevelt, he had been an ridged leader and there are moments she wishes she could lean against him once more.
America rapidly deployed more than 8,000 Soldiers from Europe to Beirut by air and sea, not wanting to allow a chance for a bloody conquest to consume thousands again. Her strategy was a large success for she was able to have her troops redeployed from the country within 4 months.
She wonders if all the world is watching as she becomes the Hero she hadn't been before. Some part of her still needed to prove it. To herself, to God. She did not know, but she's trying to outrun the aching loneliness that threatens to cripple her.
She knows she'll have to interfere again, and a large part of her relishes it. It's an excellent excuse to go back, maybe bury the hatchet so to speak. However, she cannot seem to say a single word when they finally enter a room together for the first time in years. It's been long, so very long, and she still feels as his touch upon her skin when their eyes meet.
Blue on blue, both guarded as if the other will strike first. The tension in the air so thick she believes it chokes them. He looks the same, perhaps a bit more tattered around the edges, but he's so painful to look at. All she wants is to throw herself at him and scream at him in the next breath.
Bastard. That lovely bastard.
Her thoughts stray to their time together, and she sees his eyes darken. Is he remembering it too?
He really is driving her crazy and she cannot tear her gaze away from him.
Her boss calls her from the room, and they are gone without a single word spoken.
Damn it.
Although the open East-West conflict had ended, political tensions remained high in Europe. "Particularly troublesome was the impasse over the Federal Republic of Germany and the German Democratic Republic ", the memo that passes across her desk says and she grits her teeth. Germany and Prussia were in conflict and she could do nothing. He was a house divided and she prayed, very nearly begged, that he would not fall.
Berlin posed an additional problem; it was surrounded by East Germany, but Great Britain, France, the United States, and the Soviet Union all occupied sectors in the city; and she'd promised to cut off Russia's balls if he tried one more fucking thing. She makes certain to get her point across with Russia. They quietly tear each other apart behind a pair of heavily closed doors. She leaves bleeding, but he is no better off.
Despite their little brawl, Russia remains quiet and the travel between the sectors was unrestricted. Then at the Soviet premier, something America had her men infiltrate to bring back word to her, Nikita Khrushchev announced in June, 1961, that the Soviet Union was planning go through with a peace treaty between them and the East German government. America watches with concerned eyes as 3,000 East German refugees flowed daily into Berlin, hoping to stave off destruction. Her heart in her stomach, knowing that the worst was still looming in the horizon.
She's proven correct on the night of Aug. 12, 1961, when Russia's commie fuckin' Soviets closed the border crossing points. With narrowed eyes she heatedly glares as they begin to construct the Berlin Wall. America understood that he was isolating the three western sectors of the city both from East Germany and the Soviet sector. Or, as she called it, East Berlin.
She was furious when Prussia was shackled to Russia like a damn dog, though she held no love loss for Prussia; she was beyond pissed on his behalf. She met his eyes once, as the wall was being constructed, her blonde hair caught in the breeze and Nantucket swayed softly. She nodded to Prussia with cold blue eyes and an expression that could have frozen the sun.
She wouldn't leave him to that fate. She couldn't. Though she'd worked through her anger at him for his part in her soldiers' deaths. She knew that they were nations, and nations did not have the true luxury of dwelling on the grievances over long. Today's enemy was tomorrow's ally. It depended on the will of their peoples.
Prussia's people had sold him to Russia. The poor bastard.
Russia catches her looking at Prussia and he smiles at her. The empty and challenging smile that always has her teetering on the edge of starting a fucking nuclear holocaust just to annihilate the bastard. As she turns to walk away, she misses the familiar blue eyes that watch her as she goes.
She can't let the challenge go unanswered, she refuses because she'd the United States of America and she'll beat that damn commie bastard till the end of time if possible.
In response, America deploys an additional armored cavalry regiment to Europe. Complete with the support units. She pushes and pulls strings to get everything into place and the USAREUR strength reaches an all-time high of over 277,000 soldiers and she will guide her men to achieving Russia's destruction if he so much as twitches a finger at Germany.
She refuses to let Russia have him. The very idea gnaws at her bones until they burn.
in June 1962 she sends a reinforced infantry to back up the garrison already there.
She stands guard over Germany form the distance from 1962 to 1963. The extra forces she sends home, keeping her eye on the ever present threat of Russia. Her people develop better technology and America is so damned proud of them, even as their will is changing her slowly.
December of 1966 dawns cold and bitter. France has withdrawn his military, but America refuses to leave. He withdraws from NATO so she withdraws from France. The communications zone headquarters moved from Orleans, France, to Worms, Germany. She moves USEUCOM to Stuttgart.
They are always so close and yet worlds apart. She dances around him, and they are finally able to have a single conversation about mundane things.
"I'm not leaving," She tells him quietly, as their bosses discuss things behind closed doors. America hadn't wanted to go in, afraid he'd be there.
Germany found her, coming out of the meeting. His face betrayed nothing as he stared at her with unreadable eyes. She flushed, trying to keep her emotions in check. Her throat is dry and her mouth is oddly heavy. She doesn't know what to say.
They both know her nation has been stubbornly staying when others are leaving. If he wonders why she says, he doesn't ask.
"Ja, I know." He replies equally as quiet.
Her back straightens at the sound of his voice, and she stares out the window. Several seconds tick by with agonizing slowness that is at the same time much too fast.
"Sorry," she says suddenly, "about Prussia."
Germany's eyes are on her. She can feel them, and it makes her shiver.
"Thank you," he says and then leaves her alone in the hallway.
America wonders why she thinks that there was more he wanted to say.
OoOoOo
She steps into the shower on full blast. Her body tense as she watched the steam curl around her. Her blue eyes clouded at the world passes her by.
Lost in her own little bubble of steam and lost dreams.
OoOoOo
1968
They call it 'The first Redeployment of Forces From Germany'. America dubs it REFORGER and she's honestly happy for Germany.
America removes 28,000 military personnel from his soils, though they remained committed to NATO. She watches with a true smile as more than 12,000 soldiers returned to Germany for an exercise using pre-positioned equipment. She discreetly watches him from beneath her lashes and the corner of her eyes. He looks so happy, so proud. She notices his brass is shining and she imagines he must have stayed up all night polishing it.
Why is it never easy between them? They've only had a handful of talks and all of them have been in front of others. Italy becomes nearly a constant around him. It is the first time she feels jealous of the happy-go-lucky nation that gets Germany to smile and speak freely.
America leaves them feeling strangely bereft of anything except turmoil.
OoOoOo
The heat of the water stings her skin, but she remains scrubbing with a floral scented body wash. However, she takes her time, allowing the sensations to wash over her.
She grabs the shampoo bottle and pours a dollop in her palm. Briskly rubbing them together, before smoothing in on her hair, gently massaging her scalp.
OoOoOo
1970's
The impending need in the Vietnam conflict greatly reduce her presence in Germany. She's on the ground with her troops again. Wading through jungles and humidity. Assassination attempts, bombs with much more deadly accuracy and power rain from the sky along with napalm.
She rouses her men into action , though they are ill prepared to deal with the guerilla tactic. It is a devastation to America's forces on several occasions. Still she fights, watching more die around her, trying to be their comfort in the last moments.
She returns to her home bleeding and scarred.
At the next meeting, she doesn't even look at Germany and she doesn't feel his eyes on her at all. She swallows thickly as he speaks with Italy and the others. America knows she's being quietly shunned, and she says nothing. She sits through the whole damned meeting with her head held high.
Fuck 'em. Fuck them and fuck Germany.
Maybe he has forgotten about her now that she is no longer the 'Hero'.
OoOoOo
America holds her breath as the water cascades down her, carrying the suds with it, and she rinses the soap from her hair.
Her hand blindly reaches for the conditioner. Her moves enough to keep her face from being splashed as she squirts some into the palm of her hand and rubs it in at the tips.
OoOoOo
1980s
"The dramatic events of the late 1980s – the opening of the Berlin Wall, German reunification, and the collapse of the Soviet Union – combined to change USAREUR again. Intermediate nuclear weapons were withdrawn, chemical weapons were moved out of Europe, and units began to depart the European continent while others were inactivated."
It has finally happened. Germany was being reunited with his brother. America grins as the first bricks tumbled down on the street. It is not long before the crowds gathered on both sides of the wall are finally able to see each other.
America closes her eyes and savors the moment. When she opens them again. She sees the two nations.
Prussia looks so relieved, even though he is no longer a nation, when he steps out from behind the wall. His red eyes locked on Germany and he smiles. America watches from a distance, a nearby building as the people cheer and celebrate. It is a great time for the world. A magnificent moment for Germany. How could she not show up?
The albino former nation looks up suddenly and catches her eyes. He knows she's there. He returns the nod she gave him so very long ago. Doubtless he has heard about America's President demanding the wall come down. She hadn't forgotten her promise.
Neither had Prussia, it seemed.
Her blue eyes are glittering with tears and she smiles at him so brightly that her heart is practically overflowing with happiness for him. She salutes him, and he returns it slowly. She sees Germany watching her, and her heart stutters in her chest.
Why does he have this hold on her?
She turns and leaves so they won't see her breakdown.
OoOoOo
She stands under the spray for a long time. So long that the steam has already fogged the mirror and started curling out from under the bathroom door.
She'll get out soon.
Soon.
OoOoOo
They are all business, America and Germany. They don't speak of anything in private and they do not socialize after the meetings with each other like the others.
Sometimes if they are supposed to go to the same event, she arrives late and leaves early. She's never forgotten him. Not for a single day, but he appears content with his life, so what is there left to say?
Except everything she wants to say.
Things she can never say.
He has everything he ever wanted and she was fucking pathetic still pining after him for so long. She resolves to push him from her mind and heart. She could possibly have succeeded, however, Iraq invaded Kuwait in August 1990, and America is off again with her men, refusing to back down again. Images of Prussia being forced to join with Russia still burn her and she just won't allow it to happen again.
And because she thinks of Prussia, she remembers Germany.
OoOoOo
America dries herself off with a fluffy towel, the water having symbolically washed away the memories of her past.
It still never quite gets rid of his touch upon her skin or the feel of him inside her.
God, she needs a drink.
She's never told him that she kept the gun he gave her. She has it locked away in her storage locker, in a glass case that she dusts every time she visits. America runs her fingers through her wet hair, watching the spare droplets as the fall to the floor.
It is the sound of knocking that rouses her from the memories. Her blue eyes swing upward, and she sighs heavily.
She must have forgotten something, or England was coming to chew her a new one again. America didn't bother to do much more than wrap the towel around her. Her feet left wet foot prints as she walked across the bathroom and into the bedroom area of her hotel.
"Just a minute," She called cheerfully, falling into her act with practiced ease.
She hurriedly lifted the lid to her suitcase and rummaged for a bra, shirt, underwear, and slacks. America slipped on her undergarments, cursing internally at the timing of all of this. Couldn't a country sulk in peace?
Was that really such a difficult request?
She shoved her legs through her pants, doing a slight dance to get them all the way on. Her hair was a wet mess, but it would have to do. She pulled the shirt on and reached for the door.
Japan was waiting patiently on the other side.
"Good evening America," he says kindly.
She flashes a trade mark grin that leaves her even more tired. "Hi Japan."
The dark eyes nation peers at her blankly and gestures toward the hallway.
"You are coming to dinner, yes?" He asks politely.
It's on the tip of her tongue to accept when her very own personal torment comes walking out of his room. His room... is right next her this time. Damn. His blue eyes meet hers and she cannot look away. Even with Japan standing right in front of her.
Fucking hell.
"No, thank you," she said with a gentle smile. Her eyes lingered on Germany. "I think I'll just stay in tonight."
"Are you feeling alright?" Japan asked politely.
America waved him off with a laugh and tucked a damp lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm fine dude, don't you worry. I just want to turn in a little early, ya know?"
Japan readily accepts her excuse, making only a token inquiry. "Very well, if you are sure?"
She feels Germany's eyes on her and her hear clenches painfully. The air around her felt too hot and she swallows quickly.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she supplies as part of a informal conversation. "Right?"
Japan nods thoughtfully and turns to leave. Germany lingers in the hall for a moment longer than necessary.
She's unable to keep herself from looking at him. America's eyes meet Germany's again. The longing as plain as day in her face.
The sudden rush of heat is too much, there in his gaze, and she flushes. She bites her lip and starts to close the door, looking away.
"Gute Nacht," He says in a low timber.
America flicks her gaze to him again. Her mouth parts in slight surprise. Her heart is beating fast, too fast and she feels both elated and nervous.
She smiles at him, fondly, her grip on the door slackened.
"Yeah," she says softly, "you too. "
They stare at each other for a moment before she closes the door. America turns and leans her back against it.
Her body feels as flushed as her face. A nearly forgotten moisture has pooled between her thighs. She covers her mouth with one hand and her eyelids slide closed.
He hasn't touched her, but she wishes he had.
OoOoOo
Germany touches the door gently, with his eyes staring at where America had been. Had he imagined it? The look in her eyes. It was so achingly familiar. Her hair still wet from a shower, and he hadn't even realized they were in adjoining rooms.
She was staying in. Everyone else was going out. It would be easy, so easy to hash this all out now. He could just knock on the door and ask her.
Germany could not get her look of naked longing out of his mind.
His blue eyes stare at the door, weighing the probabilities versus the realities of his situation.
His hand curls to a fist, and he hesitates at knocking.
Torn.
OoOoOo
She listens to the sounds of retreating footsteps with a heavy heart. She'd wanted him to say something more, She'd wanted to be able to speak with him.
He had lingered. Did that mean something? Or nothing?
America decides to open the door again, after some minutes have passed. She peers out into the hallway and it is empty, just like she'd known it would be. Her blue eyes are tinged with sadness.
Fool. She scolds herself again.
Fucking idiot.
She's so caught up in her self-deprecation, she doesn't hear the door open.
She feels the hand over her mouth and is yanked back. She struggles, lashing out. Only to be dragged to her bed. America twists and her blue eyes land on the door that joins her room to the next.
The door that was very much open.
The one she hadn't even noticed in order to lock.
She's thrown on the bed, and she feels fear and excitement war within her. He's standing at the foot of the bed, watching her through half-lidded eyes.
"Germany?" She breathes the question, half-terrified that it is a dream.
That same look is in his gaze as it was back in 1944. When he was unwilling to take 'no' as an answer. Its twisted and wrong, but she quivers at it. He wastes no time in crawling over her and capturing her lips with his.