Difference Between Brothers

The letter had said to come here, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe Prussia had lied to him. He hadn't seen the country much since the revolution, so why did he want to meet up a century later. Didn't he have "vital regions" to seize?

"Oi, I thought I told you to stop zoning out!" America was snapped back into reality by a harsh voice and an even harsher smack to the head. He wheeled around to see his red-eyed, former mentor and an unknown blond man who was almost identical to him in stature.

"Why'd you ask me to come here, Prussia? You know that I'm an isolationist country."

"Yeah, yeah," shrugged the kingdom. "I know the whole jazz. But I wanted you to meet someone. Alfred, this is my little brother Ludwig, the representation of Germany. I figured since the awesome me trained both of you, you should be the first to be introduced to the big guy."

"Little brother? Damn, you Europeans are weird." Alfred's eyes ran over the muscular, blue eyed blond. He looked like he had a stick up his ass, but Alfred guessed that would go away eventually… hopefully. "Well, Ludwig, it's nice to meetcha!"

Their gloved hands shook as Ludwig nodded. "T-Thank you, America. The pleasure is all mine. I was wondering-."

"Hey, Luddy," Alfred interrupted with a hundred watt grin that Ludwig wasn't sure how to respond to. Or maybe it was the nickname… probably both. "Don't call me America. That's for stick-in-the-muds like that posh bastard."

"Yes, sir, Amer- A- Alfred."

The North American country looked at his pocket watch with a scowl. "Sorry I can't stay longer, but I don't want my boss to worry. I'll see you two at the world meeting," he said as he retreated. "Don't get into any trouble. I'd hate to have to save your sorry asses!"

When Germany and Prussia were alone again, Ludwig raised a thin eyebrow at the albino. "Bruder, what was the point in that?"

"Don't worry about it, West. You'll see later."

~~**~~

Another goddamn rendezvous. America glared at the sky, watching the smoke from his cigarette mix in with the endless blue above him. The outlines of a plane became visible, until details could be seen by the bespectacled nation. Only when he was sure the pilot could hear him did he speak. "The Red Baron, eh? Isn't that a little too inconspicuous for you?"

"Did you get a thesaurus, hero boy? Those are big words for you." Prussia and Germany emerged from the craft with scowls that looked permanently etched onto their faces. "Anyway, it works, and it keeps those allied bastards off my back."

America handed the two some cigarettes and a lighter. "Let me guess. You want my support in that damned European War."

"You'll have to eventually. Might as well join us instead of that "posh bastard", right?"

Feet shifted uncomfortably, America avoiding Prussia's intense glare. Germany wasn't really participating in the conversation, instead choosing to keep watch for prying eyes.

"Let me guess," the albino scoffed. "You finally came to terms with him, didn't you?"

"And if I did?" He asked quietly.

"Well, I guess we'd add you to the list of those to shoot down."

"And if I didn't?" His voice was even quieter this time.

"Then we'd keep trying to convince you to join our fight."

Stamping out the cig with his foot, America sighed. "Until I decide, I guess I'll stay neutral."

"Stop lying to yourself." Prussia turned on his heel and got into his plane. "You were never neutral. Even against him, you're on his side."

Germany started to follow his brother, but turned to America. "Why? He hurt you. Why would you take his side over Prussia, who helped you?"

"England's my brother. You would do the same for Gilbert, no matter what."

Germany looked at the other blond with an incredulous expression before boarding the plane.

~~**~~

The two dragged their exhausted, war torn bodies up the hill, the taller lugging along two shovels. "Hurry up, git. You know that kraut hates waiting."

Glancing at England through his dirty glasses, America huffed. "I'm sure he'd wait a bit longer if it meant he didn't have to see your face first thing out of the ground."

"Getting a reasonable sense of humor, are we? Plenty would die to see my face."

"England, having someone die as they saw your face, and having someone die to see your face are two different things."

"Shut up, git. Start digging."

America stopped short, looking at the grave that Arthur had motioned to. "This is it?"

"Hence why I stopped walking, bloody bastard."

"I was expected some big sign that said 'AWESOME ONE'."

"Well, he did die as the Red Baron. Not Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Dammit," the sky eyed nation lit two cigarettes, taking a draw from one. "He didn't even have the decency to die." Abandoning the shovel intended for England that would not be used, America started to upturn the soil until he hit the casket. After a bit more digging and pure heroic strength, Prussia found himself staring at the sky.

"It took you bastards long enough. I was about to suffocate on my own awesomeness."

"Not much to choke on," England muttered.

"Where's West?" Gilbert glanced around, as if hoping to see the nation waiting for him.

"He's currently occupied."

"Oh." Gilbert became uncharacteristically quiet, and became uncomfortable in the presence of the English brothers.

~~**~~

"Why do you visit me? Can't you just leave me alone like everyone else?"

America looked over at Germany with-.

"And stop looking at me with pity in your eyes! Dammit, stop acting like you're better than me." The battered nation fell to the ground, tears of frustration making their escape from the icy blue eyes. "I don't need your pity," he whispered.

"I know." This gained Germany's attention. "I know exactly what you need and what you don't need."

"Why? Because you're the hero?"

"No, because a hundred years ago, I was in the same boat as you. I lost my brother, but I was too proud to admit that I needed him. Ludwig, Gilbert took the blame for your actions even though he was against them in the first place. Now, he's being tortured by that commie all because you got a god complex."

"Shut up!" Germany grasped the nearest chair, heaving it at the man who threw it aside. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I do. Ludwig, I'm not going to say I regret my decision about leaving England. It made me into the superpower I am now. But I didn't become a superpower by brewing in my misery across the power. I got strong when I got over my pansy ass and-."

"This has nothing to do with me."

"Fine," America sighed. "Let's not have story time, and get straight to the point. You may not think you need him, but Gilbert's your brother. You'll come around eventually."

~~**~~

"Do you get some sick satisfaction out of others' happiness?"

"Of course, you old cynic." Alfred flashed Arthur that Hollywood grin in a Berlin pub the day that the Berlin wall fell. Nothing had made him happier than seeing the stoic German wrap "Osten" in a hug.

"If I were really a cynic, I'd say the only reason you're so happy right now is because you were right."

"Right or not, they're finally together again."

"You're such a romantic." Arthur smacked Alfred over the head, but couldn't hide the grin stretching over his face. "I raised you better than that."