DISCLAIMER [PLEASE READ];

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

All coincidences with real life people, characters and places is purely coincidental.

This fiction contains;
war-time typical violence; strong language; sexism; questionable ideologies and such.
Relevant content/trigger warnings will be mentioned before every chapter.

This piece of fiction is not meant in any way; shape or form to idealise or promote Nazi (and other imperialistic) idealogies mentioned in this chapter (and in the future); they only are being used for historical representation/re-telling purposes.

No matter how much effort and love I had put in trying to fairfully represent historical events, there might be still minor (rarely, major) historical inaccuracies or changes for the plot purposes (or to align with nation-verse! in hetalia).

Used historical sources/facts are mentioned at the bottom of the every chapter.

Important to note that; Hetalia is at the core already (Alternate History!) because human personifications are 100% imaginary and do not exist. It is impossible to fully portray the complexities of history/culture/reality in the confines of a singular (or even multiple) fictional individual/s.
[ .com]

This fiction is not meant to be read/interacted with for anyone below 17 for your own psychological safety; no matter relevant trigger warnings before every chapter, this fiction borders "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" at times, and can be extremely traumatising for more sensitive individuals.

All of my gratitude goes to cultureandseptember in /ao3 for original story 'Matter of Time';
delightful, yet tragically sad piece of creation, inspiring for me to write my own.

AUTHOR'S NOTE;

This is meant to be read as (x reader!) insert, just replacing name + physical characteristics while you are reading, or as a stand-alone story.

For all intents and purposes, Erica is carefully crafted persona, which is representative of a girl behind this account; including (irl!) name and looks. Please be respectful.

In the nearby future, parts of this fiction will be animated into little series, depicting the saddest and most tragic parts of the history; as a way for this fandom to apologise and redeem itself, for once and all.

Furthermore, all of this fiction is set in November-verse!; painfully realistic au! of Hetalia, where nations and peoples' lives are at stake.

Thank you so much for reading; any hearts/follows or any ideas regarding this fiction are more than welcomed. 3

Stay safe out there and take care of yourself.

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TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS;

psychological/emotional abuse (gaslightning/manipulation); graphic depictions of violence (war-typical one and physical abuse); fucked up nationhood mechanics; war-torn Poland; Prussia & Ludwig in such setting are warnings themselves.

1939, September 9th, Warsaw

'You want to leave, don't you? This seems like a terrible place to be in', Ludwig whispered, his sharp features glaring down at the girl.
A pair of silver, anger-filled eyes stared back, sadness engulfing them; girl looking down suddenly.

'I can provide you with a warm bed, homemade food, and a ticket back. I can even arrange falsified documents, if you just let me know what I need,' he continued, his roughened fingers ghosting above pale skin.

'Y-You tortured me! Made me bleed! How dare you suggest such things, Ludwig?', her small frame rattled against the worn down wooden chair; it squeaking slightly against the bleak concrete floor.
Such anger, hatred even boiled in her veins at the moment; Ludwig's gaze hardened.

Roughened up fingers ghosted above the pallid skin; pressing slightly, while pulling her jawline closer. Champagne lips moved in way too close for her liking, icky goosebumps covering pale skin too quickly; like an instinct. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Way too wrong.

Thick silence hung above; sinking into every crevice; nook and cranny; covering all surfaces with a thin layer of unspoken dust.

Uncomfortably familiar, warm breath hit the shell of the ear before Ludwig spoke, accentuating every single word, so his point would stand clear.

'I am only offering this once, frau. I have more than enough duties to attend and look after; and merely sitting you here, and trying my best to be as kind as I can - given the circumstances - seems not to be working.'

Red indent against the jaw was pressed in; his fingers digging into the flesh, painfully so.

'Or… I could leave you with Prussia, and it's really a shame, since you are really pretty.
I'm afraid you won't be after.'

Girl cringed against the sudden pain shooting up her nerves, trying to twist her neck away, to no avail.
Yet, her eyes widened from the sudden mention of Prussia's name; knowing what sort of terrible faith would await her, most probably skin sickly adored with watercolour shades of bruises, to say the least.

Throat went dry, words getting stuck in the background…
at least regaining a small part of her composure, Erica spoke hesitantly so even; sincerely terrified of her fate.

This behavioural shift delighted Ludwig, washed out blue eyes observing what she had to say next.

'Future plans of occupying Britain, in any capacity, would be a terrible waste of Germany's resources; since you would be met with terrible resentment and resistance on a very large scale', her words being dry, without much emotion in it.

Painfully tight grip loosened on her neck somewhat; soft kiss on the sensitive skin caught the girl off guard; silver orbs widening, faint blush tainting otherwise pale skin; albeit in confusion, more than anything.

'I'm glad to hear this; I hope your… way of acting will stop; and it will be easier to talk with you onwards.
Prussia will handle you tomorrow.'

Pair of icy eyes gazed down, before the girl could comprehend anything, rusty steel doors were swiftly slammed shut;
confusion… anger, and betrayal filled her mind with overwhelming static; muffled screams of his name could be heard in the dimly lit hallway.

Ludwig let out a heavy sigh; loosening his tie, air becoming too… stuffy for his liking.
Footsteps echoed away, just like the last drops of humanity Ludwig had.

The atmosphere in the room remained heavy, the girl left alone with her thoughts, still reeling from the encounter. She knew the precarious position she was in, trapped in a world where trust seemed impossible. With each passing moment, the weight of her knowledge burdened her further, the weight of a war hanging on her delicate shoulders; silver eyes glaring up at the dark ceiling; only a little window above providing any sort of light. Faded out hues out orange, stretching thin into indigo sky indicated it was already sunset, evening so.

As the minutes turned into hours, her mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament - scanning the entirety of the empty room for any sort of sharper tool, or shard of glass; or even anything blunt that could be used to cleanly break the window open once the opportunity would arise.

Slight shimmer of some sort caught the girl's attention; eyes darting to the direction where (little?) knife laid under the dusty wooden shelf. The main problem was - how she was supposed to reach it when her limbs very promptly tied up by Ludwig several days ago - he mentioning, 'as a precaution'

Eri knit eyebrows, lost in thought, trying to figure out a quiet, yet efficient way how to untie her hands at least; fiddling with the rope around the wrists. Successfully figuring out simple knot formation, the girl started to glide rope across the knots, feeling pressure relieving (apparently, years of unknotting wired headphones out of her backpack in the bus was a useful skill, it seemed.)

After several minutes of twiddling around, rope fell loose to the floor, sigh of relief leaving a pair of champagne lips.

Yet, her legs were stuck, terribly numb due to sitting through countless hours of psychological torment by officers. Tingling sensation went up through the nerves, shivers spiralling down the spine, before finally she stood up; still unsure if her legs would be functioning as intended.

Step - one, two, three… wobbly, clumsy, unsure – but most importantly, some sort of progress.

Sudden anxiety shot up the system; as one of many explosions echoed somewhere not too far, noise reverberated across the walls, empty halls, the entire structure of her being.

What happened next wasn't well thought out sequence of actions, as it was survival instinct taking over - no matter how repulsive that particular toilet looked, it served its basic function – after doing what she intended to do; shaky limbs grasped flimsy tool, pale finger ghosting above the edge to test how sharp it was.

Seemingly enough for the task at hand, prickling tiny cuts appearing.

In the moment's notice, the blade was stashed into the hidden inner pocket of her skirt, zipped tight.
Silver eyes gazed up towards the small window, the outside world seemingly peaceful… for now.
Small, sparkling dots in the sky reminded the girl of the more peaceful times, yet she couldn't waste any time waiting for another chance to escape.

Pale fingers grabbed the wooden chair, placing a spindly frame on the floor, shaking it a little to make sure it was stable enough to keep her weight - it was.

Having made sure everything was in order, Erica dashed towards an old wooden nightstand in the corner of the basement, opening it just enough to prevent any creaking, sliding out thick, slightly worn down satchel. Heavy sigh of relief left her lips, as the girl softly closed the door, securing the satchel around her hip.

Now, the main event would begin.

Once again listening for any suspicious noises surrounding her presence, as she heard none; the girl found herself stepping up on rickety stool; it slightly squeaking upon sudden weight. Her eyebrows knitted in concern, a girl making a 'shhh' sign with her finger as if this would silence furniture with no conscious will or desire.

Trembling hands moved towards the skirt, very carefully taking out the blade, grip on it turning knuckles sickly white. Focusing her attention on the task at hand, Erica twisted the window frame to understand where exactly the weakest points were located, wood cracking under the pressure close to the glass. Tip of the knife was plunged several centimetres away from the glasspane, forming a rectangle of lines, until louder splint could be heard. Girl took this opportunity to give the glass a slight push, it smoothly falling out on the cold grass.

Cool air rushed in, replacing stuffy one, eri taking a deep breath in; freedom just a inch away from her grasp. With such luck, now the hardest challenge awaited - how was she supposed to get out?

Satchel was first to go, neatly placed aside on the soil to make space for the girl; as she stood facing back to the wall, fingers ghosting the upper side of the concrete slab, meant for the window.

1… 2… 3…

With one strong push, the girl got on her tippy toes, using all physical strength she could to pull herself up, even if her palms were bruised up, small glass shards getting stuck to the cotton fabric when Erica kicked herself up. Dusting herself off, and picking any visible shards away was the main priority at the moment, dainty fingers moving across the fabric with diligence.

Breathing the sigh of relief, empty streets facing her ahead became dreaded anxiety; yet once she cleaned off any crimson from her palms with the tissue from her satchel, and messy handwritten instructions by Feliks in the other hand; Erica ran; ran across the streets much as physically possible.

Yet messy, small footsteps remained on the mud, along with blood-stained tissue.

;;

Orange, soft hues of the sunrise faded into the indigo sky, last remnants of the stars dwindling away. Chirps and songs of birds filled the bleak atmosphere of the Warsaw; them contrasting with faded out bombings somewhere out; German forces seemingly getting closer by the hour.

Neat, polished shoes stepped across the grass, clacking of spinning keys echoing across the empty palate of the horizon; sharp eyes taking in peaceful view. For now. Yet, something specific in the corner of his caught particular attention - Prussia kneeling to the ground to examine it further. Long, slender fingers picked up, seemingly, the blood-stained tissue; and judging by the brown-ish tint of the blood, it has been blemished recently.

Gilbert's eyebrows knitted, scanning the scene for anything elusive; messy footprints in the mud appearing so. They were small and relatively round, pointing in the direction towards the downtown.
And, the last piece of the puzzle was cleanly taken out window - so neatly, no shards or broken wood for the most part. It proved to be terribly amusing for him; shit-faced grin twisting into Prussia's features, while tissue (force of the habit), was neatly folded, and shoved into the pocket after.

'Huh, wer hätte gedacht, dass es so enden würde... meine kleine Maus ist der Falle entkommen… [Huh, who could have thought this would end up like that… my little mouse escaped the trap]', he chuckled, darkness prominent in his voice; mind churning already of the possible places she could have been hiding in.

Clicking of the heels drew Ludwig's attention; his icy eyes scanning the hallway - seeing a ever-so-familiar silhouette. Putting the ink-stained pen away, he stood up, wishing to say something, yet words got caught in the throat, seeing terribly distressed (mad even!) expression on Prussia's face.

'Gil, du bist normalerweise... nicht so? Was ist passiert? [Gil, you are usually-... not like that? What happened?]', Lud's voice softened, sounding concerned.

'Sieh an, sieh an, es scheint, dass unsere kleine Maus der Falle entkommen ist [Well, well, it seems our little mouse has escaped the trap]', Gilbert sneered, his tone laced with a mixture of irritation and grudging respect, 'anscheinend, indem er das Fenster des Kellers sehr sauber aufbrach, so… [apparently, by very cleanly breaking out the window of the basement, so…]'

Ludwig's jaw tightened painfully, breath hitching for several moments; before he straightened himself, attempting to regain his composure; his mind racing with thoughts of how Erica could have managed to escape. His frustration grew, but he also couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for her tenacity.

'With what– how? I made sure to check the room for anything useful and found nothing-'

'Halt die Klappe, ich weiß nur, dass wir es mit einem Mädchen zu tun haben, das "nationaler Skandal" genannt wird [Shut the hell up, all I damn know that we have a girl named 'National Scandal' on our hands]', Gilbert interrupted, being clearly more than irritated by the current situation, clenching the bridge of his nose; leaving red marks on the paled out skin.

Silence in the hallway was loud, way too loud, too stuffy to bear; when it was suspiciously broken by unexpected predicament.

'Es muss ein Pole dahinterstecken; sie hätte auf keinen Fall fliehen können, höchstwahrscheinlich - wieder das Ausland für sie. Haben Sie einen Moment Geduld mit mir, ja? [Polish has to be behind this; no way she could have escaped in, most probably– again, the foreign country for her. Bear with me for a moment, will you?]', Ludwig raised his eyebrow before continuing.

'Als ich die Unterlagen über den Verlauf der Invasion für den Kongress ablegte, fand ich einige geheime polnische Dokumente, die sich auf... ihn bezogen. Es war größtenteils nichts Interessantes, nur Dokumente, die sich auf seine menschliche Beschäftigung, sein Gehalt, seine Position bei der Arbeit und dergleichen bezogen - aber… [while filling the paperwork of the invasion progress for the Congress, I found some classified Polish documents, relating towards… him. It was mostly nothing interesting, just documents relating towards his human employment, wage, position at work, and such – however…]'

Germany with great attention to detail scanned through the papers in front of him, shuffling some, before taking out the required one, pointing to the address printed out on the blank.

'Es ist eine seiner Wohnungen, irgendwo in Warschau. Sie muss dort sein, oder? [It's one of his apartments; somewhere in Warsaw. She must be there, no?]'

Cold smirk glazed across sharp Gilbert's features, him cocking his head to the side.
'Ach, unsere kleine Maus hat sich mit der Politur verbündet? Furchteinflößend, nicht wahr? [Aw, our little mouse decided to ally up with the Pole? Formidable, huh?]'

'Egal, wie die Umstände sind, wir müssen sie finden - wir dürfen nichts unversucht lassen. Wir können nicht zulassen, dass sie uns wieder entwischt [No matter the circumstances, we must find her– leave no stone unturned. We cannot let her slip away again]', Lud spoke, his voice full of dripping venom.

'Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen, West. Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass sie gebührend empfangen wird, wenn wir sie finden. Das nächste Mal wird sie nicht so leicht entkommen. [Don't worry, West. I'll make sure to give her a proper welcome when we find her. She won't escape so easily next time]'

'-Außerdem, nur aus Neugier, bevor wir uns hier... beschäftigen, haben Sie körperliche Gewalt gegen sie angewendet? [-also, just curious, before we get ourselves… busy here, did you use physical force on her?]'

Germany raised his eyebrow, slightly surprised by the abrupt question.

'Geprellte Wange, nicht mehr, muss ich sagen. Versucht, sanft zu sein, wie ich kann, Osten... schien dies nicht gut genug funktionieren, nach zu urteilen... dies [Bruised cheek, no more, must say. Tried to be gentle as I can, East… seemed this didn't work well enough, judging by…. this]', he shrugged, sitting down to type out a report for the higher officials.

;;

One or either way, the escape of Erica had unforeseen consequences; Polish newspapers splashing out titles of her successful escape against German officers, girl becoming the symbol of hope and defiance against oppression and darkness of the Nazi regime; at least in the war-torn Poland.

Personal vendetta was formed.
One from personal failure, the shame burning in his consciousness – that was something Prussia felt.
And another from how dangerously precarious position they were in as country personifications, but also as high-ranking military officers - Ludwig had a broader outlook on such matters.

Downtown Warsaw was scoured upon; poor people related to Feliks investigated to the last bits – screams echoing across basement hallways, faith of them being uttermost tragic.
In the meantime, Ludwig was questioning anyone who might have seen a young woman matching Erica's description.
Yet, the news of her escape began to spread, whispers floating through the ranks of the German forces.

;;

Prussia, fueled by his personal failure and the shame that weighed heavily on his conscience, led a relentless pursuit.
Cries of the people echoed in the streets, which were caught in the crossfire of unfortunate circumstances; as Prussia's desperate quest for vengeance became increasingly frenzied.

Yet, morning after escape and following days after seemed like hell, when neighbours close to the Feliks' apartment, given to her (in a way) were taken away by the German officers; cries and screams echoing across the hallway; rifles to people's backs; her small figure shaking when she saw everything happening through the peephole of the door.

Anxiety overtook Erica's thoughts, as she knew that she would be next. Her pale hands trembled, vision going hazy - in and out, shifting between blurry hues and clear perception, heart beating drums away.

Dainty fingers shifted across the door, making sure it was locked in all the ways possible to ensure her safety… for now; moments after girl rummaging through the closet for any sort of practical, yet pretty clothing for the journey. Also, shoes comfortable enough to walk long distances would have been perfect as well.

First item to be pulled out was a dark beige coat, decorated with tiny flowers on the sleeves, as well at the bottom of the fabric. Quickly, Eri slipped it on, it being a little too large on her, sleeves hanging loosely down; yet nothing rolling up couldn't fix - as it was put away on the sofa nearby.

As the girl continued to shuffle across a huge closet, filled with various garments, a washed out pink skirt caught her attention, being just below her knee - with little lace at the bottom, yet seemingly modest enough for this time period. As other clothing, it was gently folded and put away in a small pile.

Next, dark chocolate turtleneck awaited, perfectly fitting, as fitted light cream cardigan went other on the top, gently being tucked into the skirt; as girl dusted fabric off carefully to remove any wrinkles. Small hands scrambled through the closet more; taking out a pair of dainty black oxford shoes, with little heel at the bottom.

Sitting down on old sofa, it was quite a struggle to get them going, pale fingers unfastening ties, moments after small feet attempting to slip in, uncomfortable friction making Eri's eyebrows knit closely. Yet, which satisfying 'pop' and quick tying up, one was ready to go.

A little too snug, but beggars can't be choosers, also, considering her situation...

Same procedure repeated on the other leg, girl stood up against the mirror; taking several shaky steps, subtle clacking of the heels against the worn down wooden floor echoing over the apartment.

It was unusual at first, Erica never wearing any sort of heeled shoes due to ankle problems, but as long she had something on, it was alright.
Beige coat was carefully slid on; satchel - seemingly life and bane of her existence securely hung from her hip, girl once more scanning herself down in the mirror, twirling. In her opinion, she looked very formal, even gorgeous.

Piece of neatly folded paper was gently placed on the nearby dark wood table, labeled with;

'For Ludwig & Gilbert'

;

several days later, when finally Prussia was at the same stairwell, where Erica first stood, her heart and mind laced with terrifying anxiety; mind-numbing sensation; his long fingers twisted the doorknob with anticipation to see... her, the damned traitor, the scandal amongst the ranks -

yet he was only met with seemingly abandoned apartment, wilted roses on the nightstand with a little letter adorned by neat cursive; brothers' names upon it.

wilted roses stood there a reminder of his failure; pink colour all drained out of once lively petals, bleak and empty.
vase, seconds after, shattered; glass shards scattering all across the creaky floor; as Prussia left, his sillhoutte blurring down the stairs; slammed doors echoing...

away...

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