"Death of a Nation" (APH, Prussia/Hungary, Germany, K+)
Title: "Death of a Nation"
Author: Yukari_Rin
Series: Hetalia Axis Powers
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Prussia (East Germany), Hungary, Germany (West Germany), with slight Prussia/Hungary.
Summary: A wall falls and someone dies.
Rating: K+
Word Count: 3,290
Historical Context: the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany
Notes: First APH fanfiction (of more than one sentence), please be kind. Written with respect to Mr. Christopher Clark. Wheee for symbolism!
Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powers and related properties belong to Himaruya Hidekazu and related parties. Title not related to any pre-existing media of the same name (such as songs, books, or documentaries).
He was one of the first to reach the top of the wall. But rather then continue over into the outstretched arms of West Berliners, he crouched down and sat atop the cold concrete. Eager East Berliners paid him little mind as they hurried across, fearful that the government would rescind its permission to cross. There were all ready some people chipping away at the cement, those that had a premonition of what was to come in the following months, maybe.
East looked left and right at the crowds on either side, noting the differences between the people and the city. On West's side the gray slabs were covered in bright paints. Graffiti of abstract faces and the like as far as his eyes could see. On his side, on Russia's side, nothing. Nothing but trenches marking the death strip. East's chest tightened as the names of his fallen citizens who had risked it all for freedom flashed through his mind. He wondered if any of them had had family on West's side, and if they knew.
He was drawn from his reverie by the noise of the crowd. Everywhere people were talking excitedly, nervously, laughing and crying, shouting, embracing. Strangers to strangers, only wanting to be together once more. This was real, he had to remind himself.
“Big brother!” a deep voice called near his feet. It was familiar, but one he hadn't heard in many years. East looked down and saw West trying to remain in place on the ground below, jostled by the crush of human movement. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Memories playing in each of their minds. West made the first move, holding his hands up, cupped together for a foothold.
East rolled onto his side and lowered himself from the ground with his brother's help.
And time began moving again.
A few months later the wall was nearly completely gone. Most of it had been destroyed by those wanting to move forward or saved in little pieces by those who swore never to forget. Hungary watched the people go about their new lives as she walked through the streets. Reunification. The word tasted sweet on her tongue. It had been a long road, and upon reflection on her part of the Iron Wall's fall, it was the brothers' reunion that meant the most to her.
She arrived at their home and knocked on the door. West opened it a few moments later and invited her in. His older brother was in the study, he told her. She could go on, he'd bring some refreshments in a moment. She nodded gratefully and headed down the hall, but was stopped by the younger man's hand on her arm. She turned to look up at him with curious eyes.
“Thank you for coming,” he told her hesitantly, shyly. Awkwardly.
She smiled and placed her hand on his. “What are old friends for?” She searched his face briefly. “You and I are going to have to have our own little chat soon, too.”
He nodded, expression stoic. He let her go and they went their separate ways. The door to the study was open a few centimeters and she could see her friend seated behind a large library desk, frowning over the volume in his hands. It was a rare moment of quietness that enveloped the usually loud man, she wasn't certain she wanted to disturb him. But something about his brother's tone and expression after greeting her had her worried.
“You know, if you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles,” she offered, pushing the door open.
East looked up at her, red eyes ringed by shadows. “I'm too awesome for winkles,” he returned, “and besides, if I do get them - and I won't, mind you - I'll make them awesome and everyone'll want 'em, too.” He gave her a lopsided grin and placed a ribbon on the open page before closing the book.
“Wrinkles won't ever be fashionable. These days nobody likes getting old, and I doubt that will change.”
He shrugged as she sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, his eyes regaining some of their sparkle. “That's just because no one is cool enough to truly showcase how great one can look with them.”
“So are you saying you want wrinkles now?” she teased, fingers tracing the gilded letters on the cover of a tome on the small table beside her.
“Maybe I am,” he said boldly. She chuckled softly, but he remained quiet, watching her intently. “What?” she asked, feeling that odd sensation on the nape of her neck that she never liked. It never signaled anything good.
He opened his mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by his brother bringing them drinks and finger foods. He stayed with them for the rest of Hungary's visit, and it wasn't until she was back home that she remembered her question has gone unanswered.
More time has passed, and she hadn't seen the brothers in a while. She'd been busy keeping her own country in order, but needed a short break. West was out when she called, but East told her to come on over. With the stipulation that she stay for supper. It went unspoken between them that she'd be the one cooking the meal.
It was exactly the distraction she had been hoping for. There wasn't anyone else she could feel so free with. They had been through so much together, good times as well as bad. The worst of it being held down under Russia's thumb, but they had patched up their previous grievances during that time. But that was in the past, the recent past, but behind them.
Or so she thought.
“East,” she began, short of breath from laughing at the joke he had made. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but kept from finishing her scolding when she saw the pained expression on his face. “East...?”
“Don't call me that anymore,” he spoke quietly. Gone was the gaiety from his mood.
“What?” Hungary asked slowly. “But... what else am I supposed to call you?” she asked incredulously. 'East' had been forced into her vocabulary and thought process over the past years. Russia had made it clear that 'Prussia' no longer existed, and had christened the red-eyed man East along with the rest of the Allies. It had been a hard fact to swallow for many of the nations Russia had been given care of.
“How about by my name?” he raised his eyes to hers, sad humor reflecting the light.
“That's what I was-” she caught herself. Oh. Oh. “Gilbert.” She hadn't called him that in hundreds of years, but it brought back memories of warm days spent racing each other and practicing swordsmanship. She couldn't help but smile embarrassedly at recalling how she had believed she was a man for so many years. She glanced at her friend and he smiled knowingly, recalling the ways she had firmly insisted that she'd grow a penis.
Hungary lifted her glass of water to her lips in an effort to cool the blush from her cheeks and throat. “Gilbert,” she began again.
“Gil is fine,” he inserted grinning.
“Gil... why....” she searched for the words.
“Because there's no longer two of us. Brother's boss and my old boss... it's been decided to make the reunification deeper.” He moved the food on his plate with his fork. “They think it'll be more awesome for everyone, this way.” But his heart wasn't in it.
“But, but every country has different regions, why strip you of your designation?”
He sighed and placed his fork down. “The connotation. Saying 'East' this and 'West' that, it keeps us separate. It'd be bad for the citizens, they might keep their old ways of thinking.”
She knew this, knew it quite well after divorcing Austria after so many years of marriage. Hungary nodded and swallowed hard, fighting a lump in her throat.
“And because I was all ready stripped of my nation status, brother was the obvious candidate to take over. That's why he's not here tonight, he's been at a meeting with our new boss all day.”
“I see,” she replied. “Gil, I'm-”
“This Linsen mit Spätzle is awesome!” he complimented, cutting her off. “How come you never made it for me before?”
She bit her lip, wanting to continue along the train of thought he was pulling her from. He was trying so hard, she realized. So she let it go and answered him as brightly as possible. They stayed on lighter topics for the rest of the evening and were still at the dinner table when West, no - Germany came home.
She had resolved to visit again, sooner, and more often (if she could). Each trip back was a bit more trying. She could see how Germany was growing weary. There were so many who were still uncertain of how to work with him, even after all these years. The reunification was supposed to have helped, but conditions were still strained.
Gil had taken ill a few months after the reunification and had taken to staying in bed. It was the warmest place in the apartment, he said in defense of his behavior. Hungary did her best to be there for him without spoiling him. He could be such a brat when he was sick and able to take advantage of people's kindness.
But then the turn of the year came and Spring crept into the city.
“A bit of fresh air would do you some good.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.”
Hungary huffed. “I mean it, Gilbert. You've been cooped up inside for too long. It isn't healthy.”
“You must really miss taking care of Italy, huh?” He sighed at her glare. “I'm fine.” His friend started to protest that he cut off. “I prefer to stay in.”
His declaration stunned her. It had always been impossible to keep either one of them indoors when they were younger, and even as the years went by Gil was out romping around who knows where half the time. “Since when?”
He shifted uncomfortably in his bed. “Don't worry about it-”
“Tell me. Please,” she ended softly.
Their eyes held each other's for several moments before he looked away. “I'm too awesome to go out and mingle.” She frowned. He sighed again. “I don't want to cause any trouble, that's all.”
That was so unlike him, she thought.
“Things are still tense. I'm just lying low for a little. Until things get sorted out. That's all.” He peeked at her to gauge her mood. "Really," he tried to assure her.
She smiled weakly and nodded. “Okay.”
When Spring was in full bloom Hungary visited the brothers, a bouquet of wild flowers in hand to brighten their rather austere home. Germany thanked her politely and apologized that he had to leave, but she assured him it was all right, and that she'd look after his brother, who truly looked like he needed the bed rest now.
Hungary bit into the apple Gil had offered her as she settled herself in the chair beside his bed. He held up his own, half finished, and licked the fruit's juice from his lips. “I've been thinking,” he told her as if it was earth-shattering news.
“You mean you're able to?” she raised a brow at him.
“Oh ha haaa. You should know not to underestimate the awesome me.”
“My apologies. Go on, I'm curious to see if you were thinking anything of worth.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat at continued. “I've been thinking - about what makes a country a country. Is it the land? Its laws? The people who live within its borders and jurisdiction?”
Hungary moved the fruit to the left side of her mouth and held her hand up to cover her mouth. “This isn't a new topic, Gil. There are dozens, maybe even hundreds, of published books and essays on it.”
“Yeah, but there's not one conclusive answer. Which is what I've been thinking about.” He took a large bite and watched her as he chewed.
She swallowed and tilted her head gently. “And what have you concluded?”
His grin grew wide and he let her wait before regaling her with his answer. “A country, my dear Eliza, is nothing without the belief of it existing. It's not the land or the laws or its economy. It's the people with their belief in being a part of something greater than themselves simply by existing where they do that makes a country. One or two people believing they're a kingdom is stupidity, I'll admit that, but the collective population believing that they are great... that's a country. A nation is only as awesome as its people believe it is.”
He was looking out the window when he finished speaking, his expression a mix of emotion, his eyes distant, as if trying to see beyond what was before him.
“Some have said that before, you know. You can't take all the credit for that,” she said slowly.
He shrugged. “Maybe not, but I can claim being the one to declare it the definitive answer.”
She smiled and took another bite. “If you say so.”
A knock on the door put a lull on their discussion. Germany poked his head into the room and met Hungary's eyes. “Excuse me, Miss Hungary, but there's a phone call for you. It's from one of your boss' aides.”
“Ah, thank you, Germany,” she said barely tripping over the name that still brought her some pain. She rose and tossed the rest of her apple to her bedridden friend to finish. “I have a feeling I'll be going home sooner than expected,” she apologized. “But I'll be back before you can miss me.” She grinned at the older brother.
“Pft,” he spit out. “As if anyone would miss you,” he returned in the same joking manner. “It's great being alone.”
She shook her head and walked to the open doorway.
“Eliza?” he called, a trace of anxiety in his voice and expression. She nodded at him to go on. “A country is nothing without its people believing in it.”
“As you say. I'll be back.”
He nodded once. “Good-bye.”
She waved as she stepped into the hall, the heels of her shoes clacking down the bare hardwood floor. Gilbert leaned back against the headboard and looked for a moment at the apple she had given him before biting into its hard skin.
Spring was in full bloom when Hungary next managed to return to Berlin. There was an air about the city so different from her previous jaunts. Everything looked and felt different, but she couldn't put her finger on the exact cause. It gave her a niggling sensation on the back of her neck and she hurried along her way.
She arrived at her destination slightly out of breath, but was even more surprised by how quickly West answered the door after she knocked. His hopeful expression fell when he registered who was on his doorstep. “Miss Hungary- what... I wasn't expecting you for a little longer.” He stepped back and to the side to let her in.
“I know, I'm sorry. It was weird, walking through the city, I mean. Everything felt different.” She could see the pain in his eyes, the tightness in the firm line of his lips. Her stomach dropped. “How's Gil?”
But Germany paused too long for her liking and she ran down the hall, pushing open the door to her childhood friend's bedroom. It was empty. She spun around, hands rising to clutch the door frame.
“I was hoping it was him, when you knocked on the door,” Germany explained without prompting. “We... we've kept the door locked on a regular basis since last Autumn, just to be careful. But he hasn't gone out and never had a key to use.”
“Where did he go?” she asked softly.
“I don't know. He didn't leave a note.”
“H-how long has he been gone?” Hungary gripped the doorframe so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her voice cracked at the beginning of the question and she was willing with all her might to not cry. She hadn't cried in a long time, especially not over him. She wasn't going to start now. She wasn't.
“He was asleep when I went to bed last night, but when I woke up this morning... his room was as it is now.”
Hungary turned back to the room that was now so cold without its master dwelling in it. It looked abandoned despite all the belongings stored in it. The bed looked as if it had never been slept in.
“When will he be back.... do you think?” she asked, trailing her fingers along the thick comforter.
When Germany kept silent she looked to him. His blue eyes were veiled, his jaw tight, hands fisted at his sides. “I... I don't think he will be.”
She didn't notice the tear sliding down her cheek as he slid his gaze towards hers. “I think he's gone. For good.”
“Eliza... A country is nothing without its people believing in it.”
Countries and empires rose and ruled for ages, and just as easily fell and vanished in the blink of an eye. She had seen it happen numerous times, they all had. But she had never expected this to happen. She had believed that her loud-mouthed partner in crime in ages past would come into his own once more. He had fought against so much adversity before... why should now be any different?
But Germany was no longer East and West, and Prussia had been gone for decades in name and state, dismantled and forced into something else. But the people had still looked to their homeland for strength then. Now they were joining together under his brother. They had a new country to believe in.
Hungary squeezed her eyes shut and covered her mouth to muffle a sob. He had known. The bastard! He had known and hadn't told her. Not in his usual manner, at least. Why hadn't she noticed? But then again, she had.
But for once in their long relationship, she had played along to his game.
She took a deep breath and rubbed the back of her hands over her eyes. Germany held out a handkerchief for her, she accepted it quietly and noticed belatedly it was his brother's. A proud black eagle with its wings spread over his name, the one long since stripped from him, Preußen, carefully stitched in gold thread. The tightness in her chest was returning, memories from across the centuries coming unbidden.
“You'll call, if anything happens? Please?”
He nodded. “We still have to have our talk, after all,” he reminded her.
She understood it was his way of saying she could still visit, still return to a place where Gil would always remain in some way.
She smiled weakly and closed her hand around the handkerchief. “Yes, we do.”
She left the apartment feeling numb, the bright spring colors blurring into muted shades. She walked past one of the old check-points where the guards used to look threateningly at those lucky enough to travel between the divided sections of the city. She walked past buildings that had seen better days decades ago.
She left the part of the city that was slowly on its way to becoming something different.
Something Prussia could never be.
Would never be.
Something distinctly new.
But awesome, in its own way.
Author: Yukari_Rin
Series: Hetalia Axis Powers
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Prussia (East Germany), Hungary, Germany (West Germany), with slight Prussia/Hungary.
Summary: A wall falls and someone dies.
Rating: K+
Word Count: 3,290
Historical Context: the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany
Notes: First APH fanfiction (of more than one sentence), please be kind. Written with respect to Mr. Christopher Clark. Wheee for symbolism!
Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powers and related properties belong to Himaruya Hidekazu and related parties. Title not related to any pre-existing media of the same name (such as songs, books, or documentaries).
He was one of the first to reach the top of the wall. But rather then continue over into the outstretched arms of West Berliners, he crouched down and sat atop the cold concrete. Eager East Berliners paid him little mind as they hurried across, fearful that the government would rescind its permission to cross. There were all ready some people chipping away at the cement, those that had a premonition of what was to come in the following months, maybe.
East looked left and right at the crowds on either side, noting the differences between the people and the city. On West's side the gray slabs were covered in bright paints. Graffiti of abstract faces and the like as far as his eyes could see. On his side, on Russia's side, nothing. Nothing but trenches marking the death strip. East's chest tightened as the names of his fallen citizens who had risked it all for freedom flashed through his mind. He wondered if any of them had had family on West's side, and if they knew.
He was drawn from his reverie by the noise of the crowd. Everywhere people were talking excitedly, nervously, laughing and crying, shouting, embracing. Strangers to strangers, only wanting to be together once more. This was real, he had to remind himself.
“Big brother!” a deep voice called near his feet. It was familiar, but one he hadn't heard in many years. East looked down and saw West trying to remain in place on the ground below, jostled by the crush of human movement. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Memories playing in each of their minds. West made the first move, holding his hands up, cupped together for a foothold.
East rolled onto his side and lowered himself from the ground with his brother's help.
And time began moving again.
A few months later the wall was nearly completely gone. Most of it had been destroyed by those wanting to move forward or saved in little pieces by those who swore never to forget. Hungary watched the people go about their new lives as she walked through the streets. Reunification. The word tasted sweet on her tongue. It had been a long road, and upon reflection on her part of the Iron Wall's fall, it was the brothers' reunion that meant the most to her.
She arrived at their home and knocked on the door. West opened it a few moments later and invited her in. His older brother was in the study, he told her. She could go on, he'd bring some refreshments in a moment. She nodded gratefully and headed down the hall, but was stopped by the younger man's hand on her arm. She turned to look up at him with curious eyes.
“Thank you for coming,” he told her hesitantly, shyly. Awkwardly.
She smiled and placed her hand on his. “What are old friends for?” She searched his face briefly. “You and I are going to have to have our own little chat soon, too.”
He nodded, expression stoic. He let her go and they went their separate ways. The door to the study was open a few centimeters and she could see her friend seated behind a large library desk, frowning over the volume in his hands. It was a rare moment of quietness that enveloped the usually loud man, she wasn't certain she wanted to disturb him. But something about his brother's tone and expression after greeting her had her worried.
“You know, if you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles,” she offered, pushing the door open.
East looked up at her, red eyes ringed by shadows. “I'm too awesome for winkles,” he returned, “and besides, if I do get them - and I won't, mind you - I'll make them awesome and everyone'll want 'em, too.” He gave her a lopsided grin and placed a ribbon on the open page before closing the book.
“Wrinkles won't ever be fashionable. These days nobody likes getting old, and I doubt that will change.”
He shrugged as she sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, his eyes regaining some of their sparkle. “That's just because no one is cool enough to truly showcase how great one can look with them.”
“So are you saying you want wrinkles now?” she teased, fingers tracing the gilded letters on the cover of a tome on the small table beside her.
“Maybe I am,” he said boldly. She chuckled softly, but he remained quiet, watching her intently. “What?” she asked, feeling that odd sensation on the nape of her neck that she never liked. It never signaled anything good.
He opened his mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by his brother bringing them drinks and finger foods. He stayed with them for the rest of Hungary's visit, and it wasn't until she was back home that she remembered her question has gone unanswered.
More time has passed, and she hadn't seen the brothers in a while. She'd been busy keeping her own country in order, but needed a short break. West was out when she called, but East told her to come on over. With the stipulation that she stay for supper. It went unspoken between them that she'd be the one cooking the meal.
It was exactly the distraction she had been hoping for. There wasn't anyone else she could feel so free with. They had been through so much together, good times as well as bad. The worst of it being held down under Russia's thumb, but they had patched up their previous grievances during that time. But that was in the past, the recent past, but behind them.
Or so she thought.
“East,” she began, short of breath from laughing at the joke he had made. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand but kept from finishing her scolding when she saw the pained expression on his face. “East...?”
“Don't call me that anymore,” he spoke quietly. Gone was the gaiety from his mood.
“What?” Hungary asked slowly. “But... what else am I supposed to call you?” she asked incredulously. 'East' had been forced into her vocabulary and thought process over the past years. Russia had made it clear that 'Prussia' no longer existed, and had christened the red-eyed man East along with the rest of the Allies. It had been a hard fact to swallow for many of the nations Russia had been given care of.
“How about by my name?” he raised his eyes to hers, sad humor reflecting the light.
“That's what I was-” she caught herself. Oh. Oh. “Gilbert.” She hadn't called him that in hundreds of years, but it brought back memories of warm days spent racing each other and practicing swordsmanship. She couldn't help but smile embarrassedly at recalling how she had believed she was a man for so many years. She glanced at her friend and he smiled knowingly, recalling the ways she had firmly insisted that she'd grow a penis.
Hungary lifted her glass of water to her lips in an effort to cool the blush from her cheeks and throat. “Gilbert,” she began again.
“Gil is fine,” he inserted grinning.
“Gil... why....” she searched for the words.
“Because there's no longer two of us. Brother's boss and my old boss... it's been decided to make the reunification deeper.” He moved the food on his plate with his fork. “They think it'll be more awesome for everyone, this way.” But his heart wasn't in it.
“But, but every country has different regions, why strip you of your designation?”
He sighed and placed his fork down. “The connotation. Saying 'East' this and 'West' that, it keeps us separate. It'd be bad for the citizens, they might keep their old ways of thinking.”
She knew this, knew it quite well after divorcing Austria after so many years of marriage. Hungary nodded and swallowed hard, fighting a lump in her throat.
“And because I was all ready stripped of my nation status, brother was the obvious candidate to take over. That's why he's not here tonight, he's been at a meeting with our new boss all day.”
“I see,” she replied. “Gil, I'm-”
“This Linsen mit Spätzle is awesome!” he complimented, cutting her off. “How come you never made it for me before?”
She bit her lip, wanting to continue along the train of thought he was pulling her from. He was trying so hard, she realized. So she let it go and answered him as brightly as possible. They stayed on lighter topics for the rest of the evening and were still at the dinner table when West, no - Germany came home.
She had resolved to visit again, sooner, and more often (if she could). Each trip back was a bit more trying. She could see how Germany was growing weary. There were so many who were still uncertain of how to work with him, even after all these years. The reunification was supposed to have helped, but conditions were still strained.
Gil had taken ill a few months after the reunification and had taken to staying in bed. It was the warmest place in the apartment, he said in defense of his behavior. Hungary did her best to be there for him without spoiling him. He could be such a brat when he was sick and able to take advantage of people's kindness.
But then the turn of the year came and Spring crept into the city.
“A bit of fresh air would do you some good.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.”
Hungary huffed. “I mean it, Gilbert. You've been cooped up inside for too long. It isn't healthy.”
“You must really miss taking care of Italy, huh?” He sighed at her glare. “I'm fine.” His friend started to protest that he cut off. “I prefer to stay in.”
His declaration stunned her. It had always been impossible to keep either one of them indoors when they were younger, and even as the years went by Gil was out romping around who knows where half the time. “Since when?”
He shifted uncomfortably in his bed. “Don't worry about it-”
“Tell me. Please,” she ended softly.
Their eyes held each other's for several moments before he looked away. “I'm too awesome to go out and mingle.” She frowned. He sighed again. “I don't want to cause any trouble, that's all.”
That was so unlike him, she thought.
“Things are still tense. I'm just lying low for a little. Until things get sorted out. That's all.” He peeked at her to gauge her mood. "Really," he tried to assure her.
She smiled weakly and nodded. “Okay.”
When Spring was in full bloom Hungary visited the brothers, a bouquet of wild flowers in hand to brighten their rather austere home. Germany thanked her politely and apologized that he had to leave, but she assured him it was all right, and that she'd look after his brother, who truly looked like he needed the bed rest now.
Hungary bit into the apple Gil had offered her as she settled herself in the chair beside his bed. He held up his own, half finished, and licked the fruit's juice from his lips. “I've been thinking,” he told her as if it was earth-shattering news.
“You mean you're able to?” she raised a brow at him.
“Oh ha haaa. You should know not to underestimate the awesome me.”
“My apologies. Go on, I'm curious to see if you were thinking anything of worth.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat at continued. “I've been thinking - about what makes a country a country. Is it the land? Its laws? The people who live within its borders and jurisdiction?”
Hungary moved the fruit to the left side of her mouth and held her hand up to cover her mouth. “This isn't a new topic, Gil. There are dozens, maybe even hundreds, of published books and essays on it.”
“Yeah, but there's not one conclusive answer. Which is what I've been thinking about.” He took a large bite and watched her as he chewed.
She swallowed and tilted her head gently. “And what have you concluded?”
His grin grew wide and he let her wait before regaling her with his answer. “A country, my dear Eliza, is nothing without the belief of it existing. It's not the land or the laws or its economy. It's the people with their belief in being a part of something greater than themselves simply by existing where they do that makes a country. One or two people believing they're a kingdom is stupidity, I'll admit that, but the collective population believing that they are great... that's a country. A nation is only as awesome as its people believe it is.”
He was looking out the window when he finished speaking, his expression a mix of emotion, his eyes distant, as if trying to see beyond what was before him.
“Some have said that before, you know. You can't take all the credit for that,” she said slowly.
He shrugged. “Maybe not, but I can claim being the one to declare it the definitive answer.”
She smiled and took another bite. “If you say so.”
A knock on the door put a lull on their discussion. Germany poked his head into the room and met Hungary's eyes. “Excuse me, Miss Hungary, but there's a phone call for you. It's from one of your boss' aides.”
“Ah, thank you, Germany,” she said barely tripping over the name that still brought her some pain. She rose and tossed the rest of her apple to her bedridden friend to finish. “I have a feeling I'll be going home sooner than expected,” she apologized. “But I'll be back before you can miss me.” She grinned at the older brother.
“Pft,” he spit out. “As if anyone would miss you,” he returned in the same joking manner. “It's great being alone.”
She shook her head and walked to the open doorway.
“Eliza?” he called, a trace of anxiety in his voice and expression. She nodded at him to go on. “A country is nothing without its people believing in it.”
“As you say. I'll be back.”
He nodded once. “Good-bye.”
She waved as she stepped into the hall, the heels of her shoes clacking down the bare hardwood floor. Gilbert leaned back against the headboard and looked for a moment at the apple she had given him before biting into its hard skin.
Spring was in full bloom when Hungary next managed to return to Berlin. There was an air about the city so different from her previous jaunts. Everything looked and felt different, but she couldn't put her finger on the exact cause. It gave her a niggling sensation on the back of her neck and she hurried along her way.
She arrived at her destination slightly out of breath, but was even more surprised by how quickly West answered the door after she knocked. His hopeful expression fell when he registered who was on his doorstep. “Miss Hungary- what... I wasn't expecting you for a little longer.” He stepped back and to the side to let her in.
“I know, I'm sorry. It was weird, walking through the city, I mean. Everything felt different.” She could see the pain in his eyes, the tightness in the firm line of his lips. Her stomach dropped. “How's Gil?”
But Germany paused too long for her liking and she ran down the hall, pushing open the door to her childhood friend's bedroom. It was empty. She spun around, hands rising to clutch the door frame.
“I was hoping it was him, when you knocked on the door,” Germany explained without prompting. “We... we've kept the door locked on a regular basis since last Autumn, just to be careful. But he hasn't gone out and never had a key to use.”
“Where did he go?” she asked softly.
“I don't know. He didn't leave a note.”
“H-how long has he been gone?” Hungary gripped the doorframe so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her voice cracked at the beginning of the question and she was willing with all her might to not cry. She hadn't cried in a long time, especially not over him. She wasn't going to start now. She wasn't.
“He was asleep when I went to bed last night, but when I woke up this morning... his room was as it is now.”
Hungary turned back to the room that was now so cold without its master dwelling in it. It looked abandoned despite all the belongings stored in it. The bed looked as if it had never been slept in.
“When will he be back.... do you think?” she asked, trailing her fingers along the thick comforter.
When Germany kept silent she looked to him. His blue eyes were veiled, his jaw tight, hands fisted at his sides. “I... I don't think he will be.”
She didn't notice the tear sliding down her cheek as he slid his gaze towards hers. “I think he's gone. For good.”
“Eliza... A country is nothing without its people believing in it.”
Countries and empires rose and ruled for ages, and just as easily fell and vanished in the blink of an eye. She had seen it happen numerous times, they all had. But she had never expected this to happen. She had believed that her loud-mouthed partner in crime in ages past would come into his own once more. He had fought against so much adversity before... why should now be any different?
But Germany was no longer East and West, and Prussia had been gone for decades in name and state, dismantled and forced into something else. But the people had still looked to their homeland for strength then. Now they were joining together under his brother. They had a new country to believe in.
Hungary squeezed her eyes shut and covered her mouth to muffle a sob. He had known. The bastard! He had known and hadn't told her. Not in his usual manner, at least. Why hadn't she noticed? But then again, she had.
But for once in their long relationship, she had played along to his game.
She took a deep breath and rubbed the back of her hands over her eyes. Germany held out a handkerchief for her, she accepted it quietly and noticed belatedly it was his brother's. A proud black eagle with its wings spread over his name, the one long since stripped from him, Preußen, carefully stitched in gold thread. The tightness in her chest was returning, memories from across the centuries coming unbidden.
“You'll call, if anything happens? Please?”
He nodded. “We still have to have our talk, after all,” he reminded her.
She understood it was his way of saying she could still visit, still return to a place where Gil would always remain in some way.
She smiled weakly and closed her hand around the handkerchief. “Yes, we do.”
She left the apartment feeling numb, the bright spring colors blurring into muted shades. She walked past one of the old check-points where the guards used to look threateningly at those lucky enough to travel between the divided sections of the city. She walked past buildings that had seen better days decades ago.
She left the part of the city that was slowly on its way to becoming something different.
Something Prussia could never be.
Would never be.
Something distinctly new.
But awesome, in its own way.