I Am East (Hetalia Prussia)

Chapter 5: The Fall

Prussia sat at his desk, drumming his fingers against its hard wooden surface. There was another rally meeting again today. This one was big. He could feel it. Hundreds of thousands of Germans would be gathering in the streets today.

He had been confined to his room, but that's not where he was. No one confronted him, though. Despite being in full view of everyone, he stayed at his desk, scribbling away at something. After some time passed no one had made a move to stop him, Russia finally approached.

"GDR?"

"Ja." Prussia looked up.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing a letter." Prussia pulled the paper a little closer to himself.

"Who to?" Russia maintained a friendly expression despite the growing knot in Prussia's gut.

"My brother. I don't want him to worry."

Russia grinned.

"Now, why would he have to worry, comrade?"

In a swift motion, catching Prussia off guard, the letter was snatched from his hand and Prussia scrambled to his feet.

"You can't do that!" he cried reaching for the letter, but Russia kept it from his grasp.

With a cheery smile, Russia unfolded the letter and read it in front of his subordinate, then with no change of expression, ripped it to shreds. The pieces fell to Prussia's feet, and his face grew red. His fist clenched, and his body began to shake. Whatever fear he had of the Russian man was now rage as his fist collided with Russia's cruel smile. The blow knocked Russia to the ground, and the whole room jumped to their feet.

"I have had enough of you! You can't control us! Not anymore!"

Prussia marched out of the room, leaving Russia stunned on the floor. It had been over a century since another nation could knock him down. He was weaker... and now everyone knew it.

Still heated from his dealings with Russia, Prussia decided to let the night air cool him down. He wandered the streets, lost in his thoughts. At first, he was unaware of the scurrying around him, but as he went deeper into the city, he noticed the people darting past him.

"Hey! Where is everyone going?" he asked one as he passed.

"Didn't you hear? The police gave up. The streets are ours!" said the man, turning backward as he kept running.

Surprised by the idea he once thought impossible, Prussia took off with the rest of his people.

A massive swarm of people filled the streets while the guards stood idle, helpless against the mob. Prussia watched a half million of his citizens chanting, and singing, and waving his flag.

After this, it was clear things were different. The government no longer had control. Russia and his bosses were in meetings all day. Border controls were strained as more and more East Germans demanded the freedom to cross. Many already were.

New border regulations had to be enacted, and the nations of the Soviet Union gathered to watch the televised conference explaining them. It was a dull hour-long explanation that didn't offer much until the very end. The Union's spokesman read the note he had been handed earlier.

"All refugees will be allowed to exit directly through crossing points between East and West Berlin for private round-trip travel."

Thinking this just another hollow promise, a reporter challenged the government rep as to when these regulations would take effect.

The spokesman hesitated. The note hadn't stated. "As far as I know, effective immediately, without delay."

The cameras went off, and the room came alive. The border was open. Travel was possible. They were free.

The nations watching cheered, but the noise was just a dull hum in his ear as Prussia stared at the Television. Without a word to the celebrators, Prussia sprang to his feet and racing up the stairs.

Grabbing his old satchel, gathered what few belongings he had and tossed them inside, only slowing down a little at the cross Russia had given him. Throwing it and everything else into the bag he sprinted back down the stairs.

He turned a corner, reaching the foyer, and froze in his tracks. Russia stood between him and the door, gun in hand, aimed at him.

"Where are you going, GDR?"

This was it. He would be free or a dead man.

Prussia gripped the strap of his satchel tighter. "To West. You heard the news. We can cross now."

"You really think you can do this?"

"Do you think you can do this? You know you can't stay this way. You know this isn't working. You know you aren't strong anymore." Prussia voice wavered, but he held his ground.

Russia continued his cold stare, then slowly lowered his weapon. Prussia waited, but Russia showed no signs that he would raise that arm again and so started for the door. Russia stood still, not even looking as Prussia walked right past him and out the door. Sprinting from there, Prussia came to the Berlin checkpoint.

Even though it was too late for anyone to have enacted those regulations, nearly midnight, that meant nothing to the people of Berlin who were already dismantling The Wall with sledgehammers and pickaxes.

Prussia charged with the crowds over the crushed barbed wire fence and clambering over the concrete barrier. He jumped off and into a moment of jubilation. Everywhere people were celebrating, beer was being toasted, and loved ones embracing those they thought long lost.

Help was already being brought in from the west to support the newly freed Easterners. Buses drove in and out to take hundreds of East Germans to their families. It was from one of these buses that a certain West German stepped off and Prussia's heart stopped.

"West!" Prussia called in a gasp.

Germany's head whipped around.

"Bruder!"

Prussia ran to him, and Germany met him halfway. They collided but neither let go, only gripping the other tighter. They laughed and smiled as tears of joy streamed down their faces.

"Mein Gott, bruder, I am so glad you are alright," said Germany, his voice breaking.

Prussia pulled out of Germany's crushing grip enough to get a look at him. It was unreal, after so many years. He reached up to hold Germany's face in his hands.

"I missed you, West."

"I missed you too," said Germany, blinking back more tears and Prussia hugged him again.

"Hey, west? Can I come home?"

A/N Sharing time! This one goes out to my Polish friends who told me that their mail would often be intercepted. So that's one for authenticity! Whoop!