AN: Based on St Stephen's Cross by Vienna Teng. Lines in italics (aside from the German) are from the song.
Si autem quod non videmus speramus.
He was there the night the wall came down. He'd been there since September, a part of his own peaceful revolution (a new and foreign concept to him, but one that he'd taken up with surprising ease). He could have left already, he could have crossed the border in Hungary when the chance arose, but that would have been abandoning his people. And so Prussia – the German Democratic Republic – had joined his people as they marched against the regime that kept them trapped in their own country. Prussia's white hair and red eyes had made him stand out dramatically in the crowd, even after he'd acquired a hat to cover them, and they'd attempted to arrest him several times, but he wasn't giving in.
He was surprised when she joined him, pushing her way through the crowd to stand by his side. She'd forsaken her green dress for a pair of jeans, and her hair was tied back in a rough ponytail, and she glared at him.
"The sooner this wall comes down, the sooner you'll stop trying to get through my land!" Hungary shouted about the roar of the crowd, and he smirked, reaching out to grab her by the waist.
"Oh, you know you like it when I in-"
She wasted no time in punching him square in the jaw, and he fell back against the crowd. Unable to fall with so many bodies around them, he was forced to recover, but he was still grinning as he rubbed the spot, which would soon become a bruise, and moved to stand against her again.
They don't fall silent, but instead become one with the endless crowd, shouting and screaming the slogans that had become so familiar. "Wir wollen raus!" had faded into "wir bleiben hier!", and then "wir sind das Volk!" They were the people, and the people wanted out. Prussia wanted out.
He was surprised when he felt fingers lace with his, and he looked at Hungary's smile, and then squeezed softly. Times had changed, and tonight of all nights he was grateful to have her beside him. It seemed like such a long time since anyone had stood beside him, and it felt right to have someone that had been there all along, though the good times and the bad, with him again.
He lost her in the endless crowd, his fingers slipping from her hand. He wasn't quite sure when it happened: one moment she was there and the next she wasn't. At the same time he was being pushed forward, one figure amongst many, towards the foreboding shadow of a wall. It might have lasted a hundred years, perhaps, if it hadn't divided them so, but Prussia realised with a sudden surge of glee that it wouldn't last the night. His feet suddenly light, he ran. West was waiting for him on the other side, and tonight was the night that they would be reunited. One last night until he faded away, replaced by the brother that he had selected to become great.
She was there the night the wall came down. Not because of Prussia, but because of his people. Because Hungary knew what it was like to be trapped behind the iron curtain and because she wanted them to have the same freedom that she did. But she had also seen the changes on the Nation that she had grown up along side. She had watched him grow thin, watched his smile falter and his spirit come close to breaking point, and now she was here to watch him become the Nation that he once was again – even if that Nation was Prussia and therefore a complete dick.
As the crowd grew, she reached out to take his hand, afraid that she would be pulled away from him by the pull of the crowd. But even their laced fingers were not enough to stop her being ripped away from him. She looked around for his familiar figure, but even had she been able to spot him there was no way to struggle over in this chaos.
She faded into that newborn crowd, knowing that she'd find him on the other side. Moving with the crowd now, it was easy to follow as they surged past the checkpoint, past what guards remained. There was no fight to be had, because it was pointless to try and stop the tide of people as they flooded over the boarder into the West. She cheered with the people around as she stepped over into Germany's territory and she breathed in freedom before daylight tread.
The new day came and people continued to surge over the wall. Pieces were ripped off, and holes were broken through. Bright coloured graffiti covered the dull grey walls, and in it's shadow, families were reunited. One white haired figure threw himself into the arms of a blonde, and the pair went down laughing and crying as the world faded out around them. And as the day ended, they could say that they were there the night the wall was drowned in the surging of that tidal crowd. An old world had been made new on the same holy ground.
She found him standing, looking lost, in the shadow of St. Stephen's cross. Stepping forward, she hesitated, watching the way he stared up at the cathedral. It was in the way he held himself, in the way that he stared. His shoulders were slumped, defeated despite their victory, and that was something she had never seen on him.
"Pr-" Hungary hesitated, looking for a name, and then settled for one that hadn't changed in all their history together. "Gilbert?"
He looked back at her, and smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Do you think he'll be happy?"
Hungary hesitated, and then snorted, stepping forward. "Idiot. He's got you back, he might finally stop moping around like a kicked puppy." Prussia's lips twitched, and the smile almost reached his eyes. "And as for you, stop being so melodramatic. You're Gilbert – you're Prussia. What would Old Fritz say if you gave in just because Germany's in charge now?" She pressed her hand against his chest, resting over his chest. "There will always be a Prussia in the hearts of his people."
Looking down at her, he hesitated and put his hand over hers.
"Close your eyes."
And he closed his eyes and heard no sound but her breathing warm against his mouth.