bits of my mind

grieve (🇩🇪, 🇵🇱/mourn pt 2.)

"Hey."

Germany was slightly spooked by the familiar voice. He quickly wiped away his tears and turned to face the owner of the voice, straightening his tie with a little tug.

"Oh, uh, hey," he sniffed, hoping his eyes weren't red. Taking a few steps away from his brother's gravestone, he waved awkwardly at the newcomer.

"Long time no see," Poland greeted, softening his tone. Germany nodded his head. "Um, yeah. Saw you a few times at UN conferences, but I never really got the chance to speak to you. Didn't think you'd be at the funeral... thanks for coming," Germany said, cracking a small smile.

"It's all good," the Polish man shrugged, and Germany realised with a pang that he only had one wing.

"Your wing... I'm sorry," Germany muttered. Poland tilted his head. "Why are you apologising? You did all you could. It was inevitable."

"I should've done more. Should've helped you escape earlier. Maybe it could've been avoided," Germany murmured, scrunching his face up.

"Oh, Niemcy," Poland sighed. "How would you have known? He shattered the bones in my wings the first chance he had, to make sure I wouldn't escape. It's not your fault. You tried, even though you knew he could've killed you and me both. Besides, I made the choice to have the wing amputated, since it was far too gone."

Germany said nothing.

"Listen, I probably would've died in captivity if you didn't make the decision to steal your father's keys," Poland continued, exhaling. "You're brave. Thanks for helping me get to the Western Allies."

The Pole spread his arms, inviting Germany into a hug. "I know it's hard, and I'm sorry that you're going through this. But I've got your back, okay? It's the least I can do. You're a great friend."

The German returned the hug. "Thanks Poland, I just... I just wish things weren't so complicated, y'know?"

"Mhmm," Poland sympathised. "I get what you mean."

"I didn't expect it at all," Germany confessed. "My brother's, uh, death, that is, I... I knew it was coming, he was getting sicker and sicker every day, but I thought... I hoped he'd survive and beat the illness, so the- his death came as a huge shock to me. I didn't expect it at all, and I wasn't even there when he- when he took his last breath."

Poland patted him on the back. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. Like you said, you didn't expect it. You couldn't have known."

"I guess... but I can't stop thinking about it. It hurts, and I hope he was sleeping when he went, 'cause I can't imagine the fear he could've felt if he was awake. I hope it was peaceful. He's not perfect, but he was my twin brother," the German man told his companion.

"I hope he went peacefully too," Poland said, just as someone called his name. "Ach, kurwa mać! Soviet is calling me... I better go before my ass gets toasted."

"Yeah, you should. See you again, hopefully. Thanks for talking and listening to me," Germany nodded, stepping back.

"Kurwa, I'm sorry, I wish I could stay longer. Uh, before I go, can I get your address so we can stay in contact? If you're comfortable, of course," Poland requested.

"I actually don't have a place of my own to stay in yet, I'm moving out of Britain's... can I get yours instead? I'll write to you when I settle down and tell you my address so you can write back," Germany replied, taking out a pen and a notepad out of his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." The former took the two and scribbled down his address, passing it back to the latter. "Okay, I've got to go now, catch you in the future, alright?" he said, leaning in for one final quick hug and running off, swearing as he caught himself from tripping.

Germany couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. He read the address and tore out the page, folding it neatly and keeping it safely in his wallet. Giving the headstone of his resting brother a final pat, he headed down to his foster family as well, watching as what remained of the crowd began to clear.