( Hey folks. I know the time is distorted because Lithuania would have left sooner than this, but for the purpose of the story, ignore it. Also ignore the more brutal entry of Germany in this story, because the confrontation through history was more peaceful. I had to have him make a more urgent entry though. This is just for story purposes. We'll get to see some interesting parts of the past, and will Germany save him? Well, let's see shall we? )

Chapter Four: To Heaven or Hell?

[] Germany []

At the front of the thick wall separating him from Russia's abode, he stood. His gloved fingers touching against concrete, leather brushing away bits of snow. He stared at the large wall and could not help the pang in his heart…Prussia was likely grasping at his last bit of breath. He could not understand… he could not comprehend…what he should do…declare open war with Russia over his brother?

His very blood ran thick in Prussia's veins, elder nation and once mightier than Germany could ever have been. Standing at his post, he had been ambitious. He had always been strong and outspoken. He was the declaration of strength to the world that Germanics represented, and now his silver haired brother was being beaten down by Ivan, whose purple eyes had hell's flames within their stare.

He'd have to break through the wall, but the question was….would he have time?

"Vait a little vhile, Prussia. I am coming."

[] Prussia in the Past []

Deep cerulean and gold cloth covered his form. The red color was in the trimming and collar of the coat. Dark boots covered his feet, and his smile was genuine as he stood before Hungary, the nation settled in deep forest green. The features were masculine enough, but it wasn't hard to find that the nation was far more feminine than he had originally perceived. Standing against the wall, Hungary was grasping at the hem of her dress and staring intently at his deep crimson eyes with a pair of emeralds…frailty having hit her hard since the days that she quested against him so long ago. Maid's clothing cloaked itself over her form, financial instability becoming a great nuisance to her lifestyle.

"You've fallen hard, Hungary. Must suck balls."

"Mister Austria treats me good. I like it."

"You must hafe lost the last of your wits to like being vith that stiff! He likes to pretend he's a rich guy but he's cheap! You deserve better…"

"By better, do you mean you?"

"Vell….now that you mendion it yes I vould!"

Laughing, he stood against the wall matching up against the brick work and watching her brown eyes stare into his crimson ones. The world seemed absorbed in the contact of her staring at him, and he, for his part, did not ignore it. He moved in, brushed his fingers against her cheek, and brought his lips ceremoniously to hers.

"Vhat is going on here? Elizabeta! Vhere are you?" the stuffy call of the posh composer from around the corner called out.

"I have to go!" And she had rushed out of the scene, a flurry of green and white falling behind, her bandanna falling down at his feet…as the rain poured down.

"Goodbye then, Elizabeta."

[] Latvia in the Present []

It was true. Russia was every bit as scary as anyone could have guessed. From the moment he had arrived in Ivan Braganski's home, he had succumbed to the terror of the man's infatuations with torture. It was a scary position to be in when being Russia's toy, Russia's pet, Russia's infatuation. There were several infatuations of Ivan's and Latvia knew that Prussia would never be one of those desires. Gilbert was not China, and never would compare when it came to what Russia wanted for…bleed for, wanted to die for. None of the Baltics were high on that list. Maybe that's why he shouldn't stress over the loss of Lithuania, but he couldn't rightly think that. Lithuania was a possession, the same as Estonia and he were. This might reflect badly on them both…and Latvia knew that his words would always get him the worst of the bargain. He never slept in a night in Russia's room, no he wept deeply as the force of the blows knocked him from his feet.

Lithuania had been a brother, at least in spirit, for he had no relations at all. He, Estonia, and Lithuania had all been only children. Their appetites were different, their recreations different, and their general attitudes were very different. Everything about them had been different but they were all in the same position and found strength in each other. Lithuania and Estonia had always tried to help him tame his tongue, and they had feared together, shivered and fretted over the next decision Russia would make.

"Why'd he have to go and leave us behind?"

He asked out of outrage, but he couldn't rightly say that he was really angry. He would never be really angry at Lithuania for it. He just desperately wanted to escape too.

"Latvia, not so loud, he will hear you. Do think before you speak, would you?" Estonia said, grasping at the bridge of his nose and pushing his glasses further up. He was settled deep within the barracks that had been left for the Baltics…and in place of a full bed was an empty one with a simple "sorry" left behind on a note.

"We will do as we always do. Even without Lithuania, now be quiet or Russia will hear you!"

It was a hard life for a Baltic under the roof of Russia, but all the same, he was glad Lithuania finally could escape.

[] Germany []

He had slipped through the concrete wall, after using quite a few explosives to send pieces of concrete scattering against the cold and frigid snow. His mind kept seeing his brother's body slumped against the stone with three words on his lips the entire time.

"You're too late."

It would have been the worst moment of his life, and he struggled not to do something stupid and come running into Russia's home…full on. He had very diplomatic desires, and the wall was not going to impede him of removing his brother from Russia's grasps. The wall had to go. Piece by piece, he walked past the ruins and made his thick leather boots hit against the white snow. The idea rose in his chest and he moved at a quick pace. He would make it. He would see his brother's last breath, if he could do nothing else. His eyes closed, his face hiding the pain. The memories rolled around in his brain.

"Hey Vest, you aren't drinking beer? Our bloods made of beer! Are you okay?"

"Hey Vest, this is hov you hold a gun. You're doing it vrong, let me shov you!"

"Ludvig! Look at this, this says you're of the Vest and I'm of the East. It'll be our secret names for each other! We'll keep it a secret? Secrets are great!"

"You knov, bruder, I'll alvays be ."

Memories hit him hard, like a tornado whipping through the trees, ripping them from the roots, and slamming it against a church, school or residents. He kept insisting to himself he would be there in time but his heart was out of his chest, running on its' own whims. He could fail his older brother. He could fail him, and ultimately the one chance that the younger nation had to impact the older nation could be a complete failure. He knew this was a possibility, but this was the one arena he never wanted to fail him in. He could not leave him in the chaotic fingers of Russia.

Walking in the frozen chill, stepping through frozen fields where Russia's wildest dreams would have sunflowers popping out against the frozen surface. Russia's eyes were something out of hell, and his words were chilly and terrifying. Russia had been a contributing factor in his failure in seizing control of the world, to have the world revolving around Italy, Japan, Prussia, Austria, Hungary and himself.

Italy for his part continued to wave the white flag which was nothing short of exasperating, but Germany knew that if it had been Italy under the grasps of Russia, he would have seemingly had to take the steps to recovering his ally and friend all the same.

Why could it not have been Japan? He would have found his own way out, the level of mystery surrounding that country still left him on edge, wandering what was impossible under Japan's abilities. It was hard to figure out, aside from showing a little skin in the company of others, but that was just a quirk of Japan's he'd never understand.

Austria was not under the clutches of anyone either, unlike both Prussia and Germany both. Austria had been housed in Germany's house for quite some time, taking up valuable space, eating his food, and demanding the latest of comforts. Why could it not have been Austria for that matter? He was often a pain in the ass. At least then he'd just be making Russia wear dirty underwear he patched with his bare hands instead of Germany.

Hungary was far fiercer than Austria could ever be. Safe on his piano, his fingers lightly touching at the keys, the soft melody falling through the hallways, Austria sat often and relaxed. Behind him the guardian of his home, the true power-holder, was grasping at a frying pan, intentions to destroy anyone against Mister Austria well in her thought processes.

He knew very well that had it been him, a strategy would have been formed and he would either saved himself, died trying or was saved by the efforts of Prussia and Japan. His brother was always a formidable ally and he knew that he would rush into the fray, as he had in his youth, and somehow come out victorious and Germany would not be suffering as Prussia was.

He was breaking past the winds at break neck speed, his bright blues penetrating the cold and remaining open all the same. The chill was causing his face to turn red around his nose and cheeks, but he kept with the running as if nothing mattered more than to keep in pace. He had trained for this, but somehow, he never imagined it would be one of his own to suffer so that he had to run to their aid.

He could not promise what would happen to Lithuania who had tipped him off about Gilbert, but he could ascertain that the very attempt was very much a risk for the country under soviet rule. Perhaps, he could help him, but he just didn't know if that was possible. The fact that he expected to use force to remove Gilbert was scary enough in its own right. Regardless, he was coming for his blood kin.


Ivan had been waiting for the moment that Gilbert would reach the last strings of his strengths. The small dungeon floor was coated in Prussia's blood, and his dark amethysts were glowing with pride at his handiwork as he pulled out of his pet and allowed his crimson stained digits to roam through silver curls painting them with the color of passion.

Red; it was everywhere around Prussia and he had anticipated many things to come…the last of his breath being heard through his strained hearing…even the gasp and the blank eyes that would follow…but he had not anticipated to be disturbed by Estonia.

"Lithuania is gone, and Germany is at your doorstep, R-R-Russia," he whispered the words, knowing should Latvia have gone, though the coward wouldn't even peel himself from under the bed, that he would have had it twice as bad as Estonia himself.

"Dis very displeasing," he ground out, a look of darkness waning out of his eyes. "Wanted no one to disturb me, nyet, not happy," he growled out, his eyes were glowing and he watched as Estonia cowered out of sight, but that left his pet…dying on the floor though his eyes were filled with so much hope. Hope that he would get to crush….so it wasn't a bad exchange after all….

"He's coming, my brudder, he is coming," the hope in his eyes was the delicious glimmer of hope in a world of infinite despair and Russia licked his lips in greedy anticipation. For mother country, he would destroy Prussia; rip from him his hopes, dreams and lifespan.

"Nyet, he won't get to you, Beilschmidt, I won't allow it," he smiled, the dark glimmer of his eyes unmatched with his baby face as the pudgy expression conveyed a soft nature while the eyes were glowing like a demonic spirit encompassed in the form.

"If he does not give in, he shall be a zakljuchennij too. A new pet, da?"


Zakljuchennij: Prisoner.