(no subject)
Title: Auferstanden aus Ruinen
Author: Ammay
Rating: M for Prussia's mouth/mind.
Summary: 1961 to 1970. Prussia decides to take a small matter into his hands.
Prussia wakes in the middle of the night and doesn't have to ask to know there's something wrong. He grabs a jacket and a scarf as he runs out the door, towards West Berlin until he's stopped by his own fucking army.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
"Stand aside, comrade!"
Oh for fuck's sake. He doesn't have time for this. Prussia spits at the soldier's feet, take that Russia, before sprinting down a side ally. He's got to find West, surely he knows what the fuck is going on until he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
Fuck, is exactly what he doesn't say because he likes to think he'll make it to next year in one piece thank you very much.
"Deutche Demokratische Republik. Why are you running?"
Prussia winces at the butchered pronunciation, the bastard probably does it on purpose. He slowly turns, only to be met with a broad uniformed chest so he looks up into Russia's eyes and his wide smile and fuck.
"I am asking you a question."
"Going to see West."
Russia's smile widens and Prussia feels something sink within him. Nothing good has ever come from the bastard and he'd fuck Hungary if Russia started being the bearer of good news now.
"East should be finding that he cannot do that."
"Yeah well Russia should be finding that he should speak better German. I'm going to go find West."
The grip on his shoulder tightens and he will not squirm, he will not even if it hurts like a fucking bitch because he knows how much Russia wants him to, he can see it in his eyes.
"There will be no more visiting West."
"What the fuck do you mean." Because he can't mean, the fucking bastard can't be serious. There's no way that he can do that, no fucking way...
"We are building a wall."
-
There's something fucking creepy about how he can move all across East Berlin and wake up to find Russia sitting on his doorstep as if nothing is wrong.
But there is something wrong, and it's about damn time, Prussia thinks. He's been feeling better since that wall went up, which is beyond fucked up. Maybe Russia's here to tell him that his stupid dick measuring competition with America is up and he's totally going to be leaving him the fuck alone from now until forever.
"Ah. East! How good it is to be seeing you."
"What the fuck do you want."
"Am I not allowed a little visit?"
There's a warning in Russia's eyes that he decides to freely ignore, knowing that he'll pay for it later but the satisfaction of getting a rise out of Russia would be enough to get him through. It always was.
"Fuck no."
"We are improving the wall, you see. Sit down and I will be telling you all about it." There is no room for argument in his tone now, none of that stupid playful harmless bumpkin shit in anything except for his smile. So he shuts up and sits on his own fucking stairs to his own goddamn townhouse and shit it's far too early to deal with Russia.
"There have been far too many people deserting us, yes? Something must be done."
"How about taking it down."
His only response is laughter and he doesn't think he's heard anything so fucking creepy before in his life. It's mocking and jarring and there's no soul in it.
"No, no! We are making it stronger. Go and see, East. Go and see!"
Prussia knows better than to do anything that Russia says, he does, but that doesn't stop him from jumping up and racing to the border, racing to where he knows the barbed wire is and fuck.
He falls to his knees outside the 'death strip,' wants to yell or scream or rage or fight but nothing comes, just smooth concrete as far as he can see.
-
He's not quite sure how they found him. He's done everything he can to blend in and keep his head down, away from his government and far away from Russia as he can possibly can.
"We need your help."
The woman standing in front of him is haunting in her familiarity and he almost, almost calls her Hungary before he remembers no, Hungary has her own problems to deal with.
"Who says I can help."
But he doesn't shut the door on them, lets the small family file into the place he's calling home for however long and bolts the door behind them, just in case. He doesn't trust anyone, hasn't trusted anyone for a few long years because where the fuck are they when he needs them. Not that he isn't more than happy to wait half a century or more in order to punch America in the fucking face and England and France for good measure but he'd rather do it sooner than later.
"My husband, in the west, says he knows a man who said you'd be able to help."
His head snaps up, locks eyes with her because if she's lying so help him he'll turn her and her kids into Russia personally.
"His name. What was the man's name."
Her eyes are wide, and now there's fear on her face and that's not like Hungary at all -- oh fucking shit -- Prussia unclenches his hands from her arms but doesn't look away because he has to know.
"I-I don't know. He wouldn't say."
"God fucking damn it." And maybe punching the wall wasn't the best thing to do because now there's a reasonably sized hole and he's sure he's scared the woman all the way to Moscow.
When he lifts his head she's still standing there, her two sons pulled in close but she hasn't moved a centimeter. So Prussia decides that he'll help her get over the goddamn wall.
After all, he can't make his little brother into a liar.
-
They meet again a week later, no children this time. She introduces herself as Henrietta, how her husband moved to West Berlin a week before the wall went up. They'd pushed off crossing the border back further and further until it was too late for either of them to do anything.
It's a story Prussia's heard more than he really wants to and with every one his desire to go tell Russia to fuck off and tear down that damn wall grows.
"The way I see it, you've got two options since you've got the kids. Hand dug tunnels or the tunnels for the trains coming in and out of West Berlin for West Germany."
"And which one would you recommend?"
He shrugs. It doesn't matter which one he'd recommend, just whatever one she wants to take. He'll find the safest one he can once she picks.
"Trains."
Prussia nods, gets up to show her to the door because they can't spend too much time together, can't raise any suspicions, until he notices she's still sitting there.
"Who do you have over there?"
He stops, turns to her and does his very best not to tell her to get the fuck out of his house because she doesn't mean anything by it, can't mean anything by it. She doesn't know. No one knows.
"My brother," he says at last and then walks the fuck out of that room before he makes another hole in the wall.
-
When they meet again to finalize everything she doesn't mention it, doesn't even come close to bringing it up.
He doesn't either.
-
The smallest of the two kids is clutching to his scarf like his life depends on it. It kind of does, Prussia thinks as he slides through the shadows, Henrietta following close behind.
The grate into the train tunnels lifts up easier than he thought it would, doesn't make as much sound as he expected either. He can't breathe yet though, can't even think about breathing.
Henrietta goes first, and even though she's trying to be quiet her footsteps ring on the iron rungs. Prussia cringes, keeps a lookout because he'll be fucked if they get busted this fucking close. Next are the two kids, who are louder than their mother but there's still no sign of anyone.
He follows, quickly making his way down to where she's huddled with her kids.
"We follow this until we reach the tracks and then we go westward." His voice echos but if no-one's come for them now then he can't really find it in himself to fucking care. Russia doesn't control everything, he thinks, and the thought is almost enough to make him smile. Almost.
They reach the tracks without incident and he's just about to help them down from the ledge when one of the kids pulls on his shirt.
"What?"
"There's a train coming."
"Don't be stupid there's no-"
He stops, because he can see a light coming towards them now, can feel the vibrations in his feet and it's going to hit them at this rate and what the fuck will he do then?
"Shit. Get back!" He pats himself for a light or something to catch the attention of the train because this could be it. There's a lighter stashed in an inner pocket - not much but it's enough. It has to be enough. And he's probably fucking stupid for standing in the middle of the tracks waving a lighter and hoping that it'll stop.
But it is, it's fucking slowing down, it's stopping and he pulls himself up as the train screeches to a halt and the doors open and people are reaching out, encouraging him to take their hands and escape.
Prussia bites his cheek and shakes his head, motioning to the family.
"Get them in, hurry!" He's already lifting the smallest kid up into the open arms of the West Berliners, looking back for Henrietta until he makes the mistake of looking up into the face of the man he's handing them to. "Fuck."
West's frown deepens and Prussia feels like laughing because it hurts that fucking much.
"Don't stare, West, fucking help them!"
"Prus-"
He ignores him, instead pressing the kid into his brother's arms. "Just shut the fuck up and help."
Germany takes the kid, passes him deeper into the train car until Prussia can't see him anymore. Which is good - this is good. He grabs the next one, shoves him into the waiting hands until it's just Henrietta.
She smiles at him and takes his hand, squeezing it warmly. "Thank you."
He says nothing, just watches as West pulls her into the car until it's just them and he knows that they're risking everything by holding the train up.
"You better tell your friends to find a way to pull down that fucking wall."
West nods, doesn't say anything as the train starts moving forward again and Prussia watches him disappear into the crowd of people and the train disappear deeper into the tunnels.
Then he turns, kicks a stray pebble, and goes back the way he came.
-
The Berlin Wall was constructed on the order of Khrushchev in order to prevent a 'brain drain' from East Germany to West Germany and stabilize East Germany's economy in 1961. In that sense, it worked. It also fucked everyone else over - separating families and friends and providing a physical barrier that came to symbolize the iron curtain. A large number of people tried to escape from East Germany into West Berlin, as that was the quickest way to get to West Germany and the rest of the world.
The escape story in this fic is actually based on a true escape story, one of many truly amazing and inspirational stories that could end in death as well as success.
The title translates to "Risen from Ruins" and was the GDR's anthem.
Author: Ammay
Rating: M for Prussia's mouth/mind.
Summary: 1961 to 1970. Prussia decides to take a small matter into his hands.
Prussia wakes in the middle of the night and doesn't have to ask to know there's something wrong. He grabs a jacket and a scarf as he runs out the door, towards West Berlin until he's stopped by his own fucking army.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
"Stand aside, comrade!"
Oh for fuck's sake. He doesn't have time for this. Prussia spits at the soldier's feet, take that Russia, before sprinting down a side ally. He's got to find West, surely he knows what the fuck is going on until he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
Fuck, is exactly what he doesn't say because he likes to think he'll make it to next year in one piece thank you very much.
"Deutche Demokratische Republik. Why are you running?"
Prussia winces at the butchered pronunciation, the bastard probably does it on purpose. He slowly turns, only to be met with a broad uniformed chest so he looks up into Russia's eyes and his wide smile and fuck.
"I am asking you a question."
"Going to see West."
Russia's smile widens and Prussia feels something sink within him. Nothing good has ever come from the bastard and he'd fuck Hungary if Russia started being the bearer of good news now.
"East should be finding that he cannot do that."
"Yeah well Russia should be finding that he should speak better German. I'm going to go find West."
The grip on his shoulder tightens and he will not squirm, he will not even if it hurts like a fucking bitch because he knows how much Russia wants him to, he can see it in his eyes.
"There will be no more visiting West."
"What the fuck do you mean." Because he can't mean, the fucking bastard can't be serious. There's no way that he can do that, no fucking way...
"We are building a wall."
-
There's something fucking creepy about how he can move all across East Berlin and wake up to find Russia sitting on his doorstep as if nothing is wrong.
But there is something wrong, and it's about damn time, Prussia thinks. He's been feeling better since that wall went up, which is beyond fucked up. Maybe Russia's here to tell him that his stupid dick measuring competition with America is up and he's totally going to be leaving him the fuck alone from now until forever.
"Ah. East! How good it is to be seeing you."
"What the fuck do you want."
"Am I not allowed a little visit?"
There's a warning in Russia's eyes that he decides to freely ignore, knowing that he'll pay for it later but the satisfaction of getting a rise out of Russia would be enough to get him through. It always was.
"Fuck no."
"We are improving the wall, you see. Sit down and I will be telling you all about it." There is no room for argument in his tone now, none of that stupid playful harmless bumpkin shit in anything except for his smile. So he shuts up and sits on his own fucking stairs to his own goddamn townhouse and shit it's far too early to deal with Russia.
"There have been far too many people deserting us, yes? Something must be done."
"How about taking it down."
His only response is laughter and he doesn't think he's heard anything so fucking creepy before in his life. It's mocking and jarring and there's no soul in it.
"No, no! We are making it stronger. Go and see, East. Go and see!"
Prussia knows better than to do anything that Russia says, he does, but that doesn't stop him from jumping up and racing to the border, racing to where he knows the barbed wire is and fuck.
He falls to his knees outside the 'death strip,' wants to yell or scream or rage or fight but nothing comes, just smooth concrete as far as he can see.
-
He's not quite sure how they found him. He's done everything he can to blend in and keep his head down, away from his government and far away from Russia as he can possibly can.
"We need your help."
The woman standing in front of him is haunting in her familiarity and he almost, almost calls her Hungary before he remembers no, Hungary has her own problems to deal with.
"Who says I can help."
But he doesn't shut the door on them, lets the small family file into the place he's calling home for however long and bolts the door behind them, just in case. He doesn't trust anyone, hasn't trusted anyone for a few long years because where the fuck are they when he needs them. Not that he isn't more than happy to wait half a century or more in order to punch America in the fucking face and England and France for good measure but he'd rather do it sooner than later.
"My husband, in the west, says he knows a man who said you'd be able to help."
His head snaps up, locks eyes with her because if she's lying so help him he'll turn her and her kids into Russia personally.
"His name. What was the man's name."
Her eyes are wide, and now there's fear on her face and that's not like Hungary at all -- oh fucking shit -- Prussia unclenches his hands from her arms but doesn't look away because he has to know.
"I-I don't know. He wouldn't say."
"God fucking damn it." And maybe punching the wall wasn't the best thing to do because now there's a reasonably sized hole and he's sure he's scared the woman all the way to Moscow.
When he lifts his head she's still standing there, her two sons pulled in close but she hasn't moved a centimeter. So Prussia decides that he'll help her get over the goddamn wall.
After all, he can't make his little brother into a liar.
-
They meet again a week later, no children this time. She introduces herself as Henrietta, how her husband moved to West Berlin a week before the wall went up. They'd pushed off crossing the border back further and further until it was too late for either of them to do anything.
It's a story Prussia's heard more than he really wants to and with every one his desire to go tell Russia to fuck off and tear down that damn wall grows.
"The way I see it, you've got two options since you've got the kids. Hand dug tunnels or the tunnels for the trains coming in and out of West Berlin for West Germany."
"And which one would you recommend?"
He shrugs. It doesn't matter which one he'd recommend, just whatever one she wants to take. He'll find the safest one he can once she picks.
"Trains."
Prussia nods, gets up to show her to the door because they can't spend too much time together, can't raise any suspicions, until he notices she's still sitting there.
"Who do you have over there?"
He stops, turns to her and does his very best not to tell her to get the fuck out of his house because she doesn't mean anything by it, can't mean anything by it. She doesn't know. No one knows.
"My brother," he says at last and then walks the fuck out of that room before he makes another hole in the wall.
-
When they meet again to finalize everything she doesn't mention it, doesn't even come close to bringing it up.
He doesn't either.
-
The smallest of the two kids is clutching to his scarf like his life depends on it. It kind of does, Prussia thinks as he slides through the shadows, Henrietta following close behind.
The grate into the train tunnels lifts up easier than he thought it would, doesn't make as much sound as he expected either. He can't breathe yet though, can't even think about breathing.
Henrietta goes first, and even though she's trying to be quiet her footsteps ring on the iron rungs. Prussia cringes, keeps a lookout because he'll be fucked if they get busted this fucking close. Next are the two kids, who are louder than their mother but there's still no sign of anyone.
He follows, quickly making his way down to where she's huddled with her kids.
"We follow this until we reach the tracks and then we go westward." His voice echos but if no-one's come for them now then he can't really find it in himself to fucking care. Russia doesn't control everything, he thinks, and the thought is almost enough to make him smile. Almost.
They reach the tracks without incident and he's just about to help them down from the ledge when one of the kids pulls on his shirt.
"What?"
"There's a train coming."
"Don't be stupid there's no-"
He stops, because he can see a light coming towards them now, can feel the vibrations in his feet and it's going to hit them at this rate and what the fuck will he do then?
"Shit. Get back!" He pats himself for a light or something to catch the attention of the train because this could be it. There's a lighter stashed in an inner pocket - not much but it's enough. It has to be enough. And he's probably fucking stupid for standing in the middle of the tracks waving a lighter and hoping that it'll stop.
But it is, it's fucking slowing down, it's stopping and he pulls himself up as the train screeches to a halt and the doors open and people are reaching out, encouraging him to take their hands and escape.
Prussia bites his cheek and shakes his head, motioning to the family.
"Get them in, hurry!" He's already lifting the smallest kid up into the open arms of the West Berliners, looking back for Henrietta until he makes the mistake of looking up into the face of the man he's handing them to. "Fuck."
West's frown deepens and Prussia feels like laughing because it hurts that fucking much.
"Don't stare, West, fucking help them!"
"Prus-"
He ignores him, instead pressing the kid into his brother's arms. "Just shut the fuck up and help."
Germany takes the kid, passes him deeper into the train car until Prussia can't see him anymore. Which is good - this is good. He grabs the next one, shoves him into the waiting hands until it's just Henrietta.
She smiles at him and takes his hand, squeezing it warmly. "Thank you."
He says nothing, just watches as West pulls her into the car until it's just them and he knows that they're risking everything by holding the train up.
"You better tell your friends to find a way to pull down that fucking wall."
West nods, doesn't say anything as the train starts moving forward again and Prussia watches him disappear into the crowd of people and the train disappear deeper into the tunnels.
Then he turns, kicks a stray pebble, and goes back the way he came.
-
The Berlin Wall was constructed on the order of Khrushchev in order to prevent a 'brain drain' from East Germany to West Germany and stabilize East Germany's economy in 1961. In that sense, it worked. It also fucked everyone else over - separating families and friends and providing a physical barrier that came to symbolize the iron curtain. A large number of people tried to escape from East Germany into West Berlin, as that was the quickest way to get to West Germany and the rest of the world.
The escape story in this fic is actually based on a true escape story, one of many truly amazing and inspirational stories that could end in death as well as success.
The title translates to "Risen from Ruins" and was the GDR's anthem.