Guess what time it is? EILOGUE TIME! Cause this baby is OVER! Yes, I'm very sad too, but it means I get to move on to two rather complicated stories I've been itching to write! Thankyou so much to everyone who has read/favorited/reviewed. Your support means alot, really. No BS there.

In speaking of reviews, after the last chapter, a few people got upset with my mention of past UsUk relationships and Israel and wondered why I didnt keep this story strictly RusAme. Well, normally I would if this were just a story about Russia and America but since this is history we're dealing with here, I really cant. In my personal history headcannon, history is just a big mess of sex and war as far as countries go. After WWII, the US DID cheet on England with another special relationship with Israel and in WWII, UsUk was pretty much happening. I also cant see sibling or parent relationships between nations being fesable, so I never saw UsUk as incestuous. But even if it is, I dont see things like that mattering to countries. So, I'm sorry if I offended anyone or made people angry, but thats how I view the world of Hetalia and it works best for me.

Here the final chapter opens with a few historical facts from my old AP US history notes. Enjoy!

From 1990 to 1991, the Soviet Union underwent disintegration and finally collapse. Twenty nations, some new and some old, suddenly emerged from what seemed to be thin air as the Union's boarders crumbled and the boundary receded closer and closer to Russia itself. The Berlin Wall; the staunch symbol of the division between east and west was brought tumbling down on November 9th of 1989, the year of the final summit between the US and USSR. Thousands of Germans, divided for three decades as East and West, poured over the wall's crumbling remains. This symbol of Germany's reunification was also symbol of the final end of the most tumultuous century yet. On the surface, all seemed at ease.

Unfortunately, for the people of the East the end of the Cold War brought on a whole other era of suffering. With the collapse of one over-seeing power, the newly-liberated Satellite Nations turned on themselves in turmoil. Little aid from the West was provided and the small nations were unused to independence. A long history of oppression under powerful empires left the countries clueless. No nation knew where to start. The people turned on each other in bouts of ethnic cleansing and civil war. Even within Germany, the once like-blooded people had grown so vastly different, with one half completely modernized and adapt to Western culture and the other forever stuck in the past.

The day the Berlin Wall fell was a day America would remember for the rest of his life as a country and human.

That afternoon, the mighty nation stood beside his new boss. His blue eyes were hard as ice. His posture remained rigid, and not even the hardest gust of the iciest wind seemed to move him as he stared at the ugly gray mass before him. The Soviet economy had finally collapsed. After two years of crash after crash and sky-high inflation, Russia gave up the ghost. America could not say what exactly happened. He speculated that the situation was so far past dire; Russia had to give up everything just to stay alive. Yet a part of him wondered if the other had simply stopped trying. Maybe by letting himself collapse, Russia was showing his surrender? But what could ever possess the proud and stubborn Russia to stoop so low?

The wrecking balls were in place and the countdown began, in German of course. A large crowd had gathered for this historical event. It seemed as if the entire city of West Berlin was congregated in this one place, and maybe even people from other parts of the country as well. In the corner of his eye, America glimpsed their personification himself several yards away. Pulling his ancient bomber jacket tightly around him, America went to the stoic blonde.

Germany looked far from well. His face, normally pale but always tinged with pink at the cheeks, was washed a sickly white all over. There was a sheen of cold sweat on his sharp Aryan features that even the biting winter air did nothing to eliminate. He failed to move an inch even when America came to his side less-than quietly. It looked as if the strong, level-headed man was about to either cry or faint; perhaps both.

America reached a hesitant hand up to grasp Germany's broad shoulder. Steely blue eyes flickered and for a moment their eyes met.

"You ready?" America asked. He tried to sound confident, but his voice cracked, betraying both his cold and his fear.

"Yes and no." Germany muttered, looking back to the wall. "I…I cannot wait to see him. Yet at the same time, I do not what to see what he has become."

"Yeah. Me neither…"

Shouts and screams issued from the other side of the Wall. The American looked at the German nervously, but the German's eyes never moved from the cold gray stone.

"They riot again." Germany muttered so quietly America was unsure whether he was meant to hear. "They have been protesting and demonstrating for months now. Rumor has it, the riots got so bad they are now forced to tear this wall down just to keep the peace."

America was sure that was not the whole story. The Wall is coming down because the system is dying. He had not seen Russia since the last summit they had spent together. As Alfred, he missed Ivan terribly, almost enough to buy a plane ticket and make the ten hour flight on his own. But Russia was sick. Lithuania had called one day unexpectedly and said Russia was too sick to speak. Russia had ordered the phone call. He wanted America to know he was failing. It would only be a matter of time before he crashed and burned.

There was a loud snap and crash. A panel of the wall fell. The crowd cheered and people screamed and cried. Behind the wall stood a line of East German policemen. Behind them, a mass of people were pushing and shoving in their desperation to get through. America and Germany winced as a gunshot rang out and someone barked orders in rough German. Germany said they were telling people to wait, as if they hadn't waited long enough.

"You cannot imagine what it was like…when the Wall was built." Germany spoke suddenly. His voice trembled, and he spoke quickly. America watched his chiseled face wearily. He had no idea why Germany was opening up to him like this. "The pain was unbearable. It felt as if they had ripped my heart in two."

Another section fell, and then another and the crowd on both sides whooped and roared. It was not until a sizable section of the Wall was removed that the police and military finally allowed the East Germans to come through.

They flowed in like a flood.

Hundreds of people poured from the gap in the Wall through the Brandenburg Gate. West Germans were immediately attacked with hugs and kisses. It didn't seem to matter if they knew them or not. The flow of bodies seemed to go on for an eternity, but the nation of Germany stood rigid and firm as stone throughout. After what seemed like hours, the wave of people started to ebb and America thought he glimpsed a frock of snow white hair standing directly under the Brandenburg Gate.

"Germany! Germany, is that-" America pointed and shouted the words, jumping ecstatically, but Germany was already gone. America watched the blonde man push his way through the throngs of his people with his jaw on the ground.

Germany reached the giant columns of the Gate. The crowd was thickest here, but he didn't pause for a second. His blood was on fire with adrenaline and while the previous minutes he spent navigating through the mob were a blur, in this moment time seemed to slow.

Prussia stood in the middle of the two central columns. People were running all around him; hugging and screaming. They did not stop when they came to him, but parted their ranks to move around him like a river does a boulder. Germany moved against their current, moving only inches closer to his brother at the pace of a snail. He reached his Eastern brother finally and without shame, joined the many other Germans and threw his arms around Prussia's stone form.

"Ost! Oh Gott, Ost!" He cried. Sobs suddenly broke free and made him shake all over as he get himself go for the first time since the end of the War. "G-Gott…b-brunder, ich hätte nie gedacht, ich würde dich wiederzusehen!"

The nation in Germany's quivering arms did not even flinch. Germany managed to finally control his sobs and pulled back to look at his brother with tear-blurred eyes.

Germany did not know what to name the expression on Prussia's face, but it was far from celebretory. The best word that came to mind was somber, but the awful emptiness in his blood red eyes made even that definition an understatement. Exhaustion and malnutrition wreaked havoc on his face. Black rings lay under his dulled, milky eyes and wrinkles appeared at the coners of them as if he were tired of opening them. Lines were etched into the corners of his mouth from many grimaces and frowns. His entire countance seemed haggard and beaten down. The ever-youthful misfit nation had been stripped down and beaten until nothing but an empty shell remained. Germany pulled his older brother to his chest once more.

"We are one nation now, Ost, but you do not have to die! Stay with me, Bruder, please! We can share this country! Sterb nicht!"

Germany swore he imagined it, but he felt his brother's cheek pull up into a smirk against his own and a gloved hand reached up to clutch the fabric at his shoulder.

"Dankeshön…" He heard a cracked voice whisper.

It was December 31, 1991; New Years Eve. The USSR

was now gone for good. All the satellite nations had declared themselves sovereign, and to the world's shock, Russia did nothing to stop them. Hungary, East Germany, Romania, Albania, Afghanistan, and even the Baltics simply left one by one. Russia's two sisters even left him. The only response Russia gave was to create a CIS; a Commonwealth of Independent States. In their absence, the large mansion outside of Moscow lay empty and began the slow process of decay as the economy outside its ancient walls remained stagnant.

No nation stepped in to give aid. Not a nation in the West was willing, as Russia had been the cause of several gray hairs for forty five long years. Even those who had the means and the inclination were voted down immediately by the majority of NATO.

The world simply stood by with passive, unsympathetic eyes as Russia struggled to pick up the chaotic pieces that were left of his country.

On the eve of the New Year that marked the beginning of a new era, the bitter, merciless wind howled at America as he reluctantly left his warm car for the violent Russian winter. Chunks of ice assailed his exposed face, which had fallen instantly numb, as if even the land of Russia violently rejected his presence.

America ignored the pain of the icy rejections and plowed his way through the unshoveled driveway. The snow's weight quickly tired his legs. It must have been at least three feet deep!

After what felt like hours, America conquered the hellish obstacle course and stepped one frost-bitten foot after the other under the protection of the stone porch. He raised a hesitant hand to the large cold metal knockers and with all his strength, announced his presence.

It was long before even a light flickered in the hallway, and even longer still before the door to the house opened a crack.

"Privet?" The voice of Russia rose from the crack, in a tone cold enough to match the negative temperatures outside.

"Howdy, Ivan!" The light and carefree words left America's mouth before he could stop them. He had come to cheer the destitute nation up since it was the only thing his Congress would agree to pass.

There was a pause, then a sigh from within as the door was opened fully to reveal a ragged and sickly Russia. "Amerika…what are you-"

"Geez Ivan! Are you gonna invite me in or what? Even my balls are probably frost-bitten by now!"

Amethyst eyes searched the blonde lethargically before the tall nation silently stepped aside and let him in.

The place was trashed.

America could tell that much even from his limited view in the front room. Vases were smashed to bits and the antique wall paper hung down the walls in shreds. Rich furniture was turned upside down and thrown out of place. Books and pages of books lay strewn across the floor and empty glass bottles of Russian vodka littered the place. America looked to Russia in shock and sympathy as the large man moved around the house and attempted to make it somewhat presentable. In the large sitting room, he righted an over-turned chair and threw logs into the feebly glowing fire. He sat himself in another chair; the only one that escaped abuse and beckoned to his guest, who was standing frozen in the doorway.

America cautiously approached the chair Russia had offered him and slowly sat, swallowing hard as he faced the Russian. Russia emptied a bottle of his signature hard liquor into two large wine glasses and offered one to America. America raised his eyebrows and took the glass in his hands. He never ceased to be amazed with Russia's unnatural tolerance to alcohol.

Russia took a long slow sip of his vodka, staring at America all the while. Not knowing what else to do, America flashed a goofy grin. Russia set his glass down and gave a small twitch of his lips in a half-hearted smile.

"Why have you come, Alfred?" Russia asked. America could detect some impatience in his melancholy tone, but also relief.

"Well, I wanted to help you out and give you some aid, but my Congress voted that down fast…so I decided dropping by for a visit was the next best thing I could do." America said with a shallow shrug.

"Ahh…well I appreciate the thought, Alfred. This house has been quite empty these days…as you can see."

"Why don't you move out?" America suggested. "I mean, this place is huge and I don't know…maybe it would be good for you to get away, you know?"

Russia snorted. "And where do you suppose I could go, Alfred?"

"The city? You could get a small apartment or something…"

The Russian nation cut America off with a biting, sardonic laugh. "The city? Ha, moĭ dorogoĭ there is nothing in my cites but riots and deadly mobs. Nyet, Alfred. I cannot step foot in Moscow without feeling my heart break. It is much too painful."

"Well…if it ever gets too unbearable, I'm only a ten hour plane ride away." America said with a wry smile. He felt that other, more light-hearted subjects would be better; something removed from the hectic lives of nations.

Russia downed his remaining vodka and America took a tentative sip of his own drink. The clear liquid sent a trail of fire down the inside of his throat. He gasped and coughed.
"Damn!" He swore loudly, clutching his throat. Russia laughed and poured himself yet another glass.

"To the new era." He said with a smile, raising his glass.

America coughed once more. "Y-yeah…to the new era." He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was ten minutes to midnight.
"Hey, I bet the ceremony in Times Square is on now! Maybe that will cheer you up instead of sulking in this scary room!" He suggested hopefully.

Russia shook his head with a smile. "Alfred dear, most of Russia cannot afford even electricity at the present…and besides, Soviet Television is much more limited than your improving Western technologies. As with everything else I suppose, we just do not have the resources."

America slowly rose from his seat, setting his untouched glass on the mantle. He approached Russia's glum form slowly with emotion burning in his blue eyes.

Russia attempted to lift his glass to down another glassful of liquor when America caught his wrist and confiscated the drink and placed the glass out of reach. With two fingers under Russia's square chin, he lifted the other's head and leaned in for a kiss that quickly deepened and became impassioned.

America pried himself from those iron lips and pulled the larger man to his feet.

"Well then…" He whispered in Russia's ear, "I'll just have to distract you some other way."

It was April of 1992 and all the nations were gathered at the United Nations headquarters in New York for the first time. The former Soviet states all made their first appearance, looking like beings out of a dream. A small number of Latin and African nations were even invited and made the former European empires fidget uncomfortably in their seats.

The meeting room was tense. All nations, rich or poor, were connected by their own histories. Some were former colonies, some had people used as slaves, some were Empires and slave-holders, and some were responsible for unimaginable horrors of war. They all had blood on their hands. Not one had a history without corruption, whether it was in the past or present. The most difficult part of being a nation is living with one another and yourself on one small planet.

The meeting was minutes from starting. Germany was at the front of the room, outlining the day's agenda in the midst of the uncomfortable atmosphere when two nations burst in the room.

One was instantly recognized as America and the whole world snorted in amusement. It was typical that he would be late to his own meeting. His companion however came as a surprise.

The glowing blonde strutted proudly into the midst of the room with Russia's tall form at his side. The familiar electrified atmosphere that appeared whenever the two nations were present was gone, but with the familiar animosity gone, the nations of the UN felt a new wave of unease.

"Y'all started without me, huh?" America asked jovially. The young nation was the same cheerful and naïve country they were all familiar with, but the ease of his antics seemed out of place considering just who he was standing next to. The stares persisted in silence.

America looked up to his towering companion and shrugged. Amethyst eyes scanned the hundred petrified faces in the room and that signature child-like smile stretched his cheeks.

"Is there something the matter?" Russia asked sweetly. "Hmm, anyone?"

All the nations instantly dropped their gazes and the room filled with chatter. America flashed Russia an affectionate and grateful smile as the two took their seats.

Germany roughly called the room to attention and the meeting began. Looking around the room, America caught a glimpse of a familiar white haired nation. Prussia was leaning against the wall in the back of the room, watching his brother with laughing eyes. He still looked incredibly thin and sickly but the ex-nation was alive and kicking as a collection of states under his younger brother in some weird flip-flop of history. Red eyes found blue and as soon as America met the German's gaze, the albino gave a small fluttering of the wrist in a mocking flirtatious wave, pulled a rotten potato from his pants pocket and began tossing it in his white hands, looking back to his younger brother at the front of the room with a grin that screamed devil-may-care.

America smiled and stretched back in his seat, already bored and ready for some amusement as a single thought floated in his head. Some things never change.


Bruder - brother

Gott - God

Ich haette nie gedacht, ich wuerde dich wiederzusehen! - I never thought I would see you again! ("ae" and "ue" replace the umlauts here because I'm too lazy to go to Google translate to get some)

Sterb nicht! - Dont die!

Dankeschoern - thankyou ("oe" = o umlaut. I'm lazy)

This epilogue was going to be cracky. I had a funny scene in my head for a while and I wanted to stick it in at the end for giggles but a wise reviewer once warned me against purposeless crack and I realized that an epilogue depicting the end of the Cold War would be a nice way to tie up my take on the Regan-Gorbachev summit meetings. They played a huge role in ending the cold war after all.

Thankyou again for all the love guys! See you later!