1941, Oświęcim, Poland.

"Quickly, take this." Austria's voice was hushed. He glanced towards Prussia, standing in the doorway. A thumbs-up. All clear. "I'm sorry, we don't have more. We return next month. Please, do your best to survive till then."

Seeing that everyone in the barrack had gotten their equal share, Roderich tipped his hat and left. Once in the hall with Gilbert, he allowed himself to shudder. "This is horrendous. I can't bear to look them in the eyes."

"You're right, it's torture." They spoke in Hungarian in an attempt to prevent the guards and prisoners from understanding. Gilbert kicked a pebble that had the misfortune of being before him, his head bowed. "But we're doing the right thing." He bit back the 'for once' that longed to escape. Not now.

"Has America declared yet?" Austria knew the answer, but it was something to talk about. He didn't consider himself a smoker but accepted the cigarette Prussia offered. It gave him something to do with his hands and something to calm his nerves.

"No, but he will." Uncertainty laid at the edge of Prussia's words. He had to declare war, it wasn't conceivable that he would sit this one out. The only way this hell would end is if Stalin or Roosevelt blinked first. He prayed it would be Roosevelt. "If he wants to save Britain, he will."

This elicited a chuckle lacking all humor from Roderich. "Who cares about saving Arthur? Who will save us?" He took a long drag on his cigarette and watched the smoke leave his lungs, turn into clouds, and fade away.

There was no appropriate answer to that. What could Gilbert say? That they'll save themselves? How long had the Führer been in power? If they hadn't been able to save themselves and their people then, there was little more they could do now. All that was left was their personal rebellion. Fighting back against the system in small ways. That had to count for something more than their consciences.

Both of them sighed with relief. At last they were nearing the entrance. Soon they would be free of this wretched place, able to put it out of mind and try to forget about everything here. Everything they had to witness to keep them in line, to remind them of where they would end up for acting out.

A blond man appeared out of nowhere, blocking their path. He would've been unremarkable had it not been for his eyes. A shimmering shade of green, they pierced through both men. For however old he may have appeared physically, his eyes were like theirs – ancient, a witness to a millennium of history.

Unwittingly, they had found him. Feliks. Poland.

They quickly turned between two buildings, away from Feliks' gaze. "You think he noticed us?" Roderich's voice was a whisper. He glanced over his shoulder.

"No shit, he noticed us. He's in terrible shape. I think we can outrun him if we keep moving."

Right as they reached the other side, Feliks appeared again before them. His hair was thin and much shorter than either of them remembered. He leaned a bony elbow against the wall, a smug smile on his lips. "Where's the rush?"

Cornered. There was no option left but to engage. Austria sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We hate to be impolite, but we're rather adamant about returning home as soon as possible. I'm sure you can understand why we wouldn't want to be here for longer than we must." Blinking, he remembered where exactly they were. Confusion took over. "Wait, why on earth are you here?" His eyes widened at the only possible answer.

Prussia had no time for this. This was not a conversation that needed to be happening. "Who cares why!" He flashed a mocking smile at Feliks. "Good luck to you, Polen." Pushing past him, he began walking away.

A tsk followed him. "Really? Leaving already? I had so much to tell you! France and Britain told me all about the documents you sent." That stopped him. Time for Feliks to play his trump card. "Or you can keep running. I'll tell Erzsi all about it whenever I see her again."

Both of those proved impossible for Gilbert to ignore. Being validated as a good guy in this situation and not getting in trouble with Hungary? Irresistible. He resumed his spot besides Roderich and nodded at Feliks to continue.

Poland smiled, happy to have a captive audience for his tale. "You two have to keep this as our secret, but I'm part of the Home Army. Since I can't be killed, I volunteered to go underground here and record what happens to send back to everyone else and the Allies." He pointed at the pink triangle on his chest. "All I had to do was get arrested as a homosexual."

"I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you." Austria couldn't help himself. He and Prussia shared a look, giggling like schoolchildren.

Feliks, for his part, wasn't going to let that get him. He struck a pose. "You're the expert, Rod, you tell me." That got a hearty laugh from Gilbert and a death stare from Roderich, whose face was bright red.

"Yes, well, it was nice catching up with you. We really must be going now." Austria begged whatever god there might be to let him escape from this man. He never liked dealing with Poland but found him especially tedious now. He supposed he should pity the man's poor luck, but he was Feliks. Arrogant, annoying Feliks. Roderich firmly believed he deserved whatever he got.

"Not so fast. I have a favor to ask of you." Feliks reached into his pants. The two men before him turned away in disgust. "Oh, relax you babies. Don't be so perverted." He waved a stack of notes, stuck together with a paperclip that had been swiped off a guard's desk, in his hand. "I need you two to deliver these for me to the headquarters in Warsaw."

Gilbert wrinkled his nose. "Why the hell do you think we want to be your little errand boys? We've got much more important things happening. You'll have to find someone else."

"What Gilbert is trying to say is that travelling to Warsaw is simply too out of the way for us. We never travel further east than here." Roderich affixed a sympathetic expression to his face, shaking his head mournfully. "My sincerest apologies, Feliks, but we're simply of no help to you. Perhaps there's someone else you can turn to? Now, if you don't mind."

Feliks blocked Roderich from moving any further. "Right, because I have a lot of options here for help. You two totally don't understand that, that's why you bring food and supplies whenever you come." The color drained out of both their faces. "Did you expect word not to travel? It was easy to figure out. Gilbert's an albino and, Roderich, your eyes are purple. You both stick out."

Gilbert hit Roderich in the shoulder, scowling. "I told you to wear sunglasses."

Roderich hit him back. "And I told you to dye your hair. Looks like we're both at fault." He turned his attention back to Feliks, stomping the stub of his cigarette out. "Fine, we're not exactly the most discrete. That doesn't exactly provide you with the upper hand."

"Really? I thought you two couldn't stand me, now you trust me with such an important thing?" Poland smiled, enjoying this moment of power. He had forgotten how it felt to be in control of a situation. Despite the circumstances, this was a pleasant respite. "Nothing's stopping me from running off and telling Germany all about you two playing hero. I don't think he would be too moved by the fact that you're only helping German and Austrian prisoners. Not that I would ever expect you two of having any compassion for the plight of my people."

Panic. The prospect of Ludwig hearing about any of this set Gilbert's heart racing. "No!" He realized he was shouting and fought to lower his voice. Being discovered by the guards working here would only complicate things further. "You know what will happen to us if Ludwig finds out. Don't threaten us with these things." Still, how could he trust Poland not to act on what he said? He was a slippery fellow and had plenty of reasons to want to guarantee his and Roderich's suffering. He closed his eyes and swallowed his pride. "If we help you, what do we get?"

"Is my gratitude not enough?" Their scowling made Feliks laugh. It was light and airy, too carefree for the circumstances. "Give me a pen. I'll make an addition." Taking the one Roderich offered, he began scribbling a few lines onto the last page. "These will go to my government in London. France and Britain will know you two helped me. Maybe, when all this is over, they'll go easier on both of you than they will on Ludwig. And here, the address." He handed the pen and notes over to Roderich.

The reward was one better than they ever would've expected. Both men looked genuinely touched. They weren't friends with Poland, far from it. Austria and Prussia had spent too many years dedicated to crushing his people and conquering his lands for any feelings of any real warmth to exist between them. This was something better than they ever deserved from him.

Feliks noticed their staring and shook his head. His usual peppy mood shifted into a more somber tone. "The people you're helping likely won't live long enough to tell the world what you've done. Me doing this is to let them be heard more than it is a gift for you two." He turned on his heel, beginning to walk away. "You two have the luxury of leaving, better use it now while you can."

Warsaw.

They passed the drive over in silence, the weight of everything hanging over them. This was not a time for idle chit-chat, for trying to forget the misery of the time. To distract themselves would feel negligent.

The address Feliks had given led to a nondescript home. The only thing remarkable about it was how unremarkable it truly seemed. No one would guess there was a whole resistance being formulated there, a whole connection to the outside world. It was perfect.

Roderich knocked lightly on the door. He glanced around the neighborhood. Wherever he turned, curtains rustled to show they had quickly been thrown closed. He looked down at himself, noticing the unmistakable uniform clinging to his frame. He slipped the armband off, but it still came off as menacing due to its symbolism. "Dammit, Gilbert. We never got changed."

As Gilbert came to the same realization, the door swung open. A wire-thin woman peeked her out of the door. She tried to hide the fear in her eyes with a cautious smile, but the result was only to make her more pitiable. Roderich bowed his head politely. "Hello, I'm terribly sorry about how we're dressed, but please don't be alarmed."

The entire time he spoke, the woman had a blank expression on her face. "Shut up, she doesn't understand a word you're saying." Gilbert wracked his brain. Centuries ago, he was fluent in Polish. It was a necessity due to his political situation. The language must have changed over the years, but dated Polish was better than nothing. "We…do not…want to…hurt…you." He hated how slow and unsure he sounded as he spoke. It was completely unimpressive. Regardless, it seemed to do the trick. The woman relaxed considerably. "For you…from Feliks." He pointed to the stack of papers in Roderich's hand.

She gleefully took them. Her smile was still reserved, but that seemed to just be the woman's personality more than anything Gilbert or Roderich had done. She opened her mouth, thinking over her words. Finally, they came. "Danke schön." She hurried back inside, locking the door with a 'click!' behind her.

Without even discussing it, the two walked to the neighborhood park across the street. They sat down on the first bench they came across. Another much needed cigarette for the both of them. "I forgot you knew Polish." Roderich watched ashes fall onto his boot. In any other time, he would find it distasteful how they dirtied up his appearance. But it wasn't any other time. He couldn't be bothered to care.

"If I'm being honest, so had I." Gilbert chuckled, but there was no emotion to it. Humor didn't feel as healing as it once did. He puffed smoke through his nostrils. It always made the tobacco sting more than usual, but it was grounding. It reminded him he was still alive. Whether or not that was a blessing or a curse, he hadn't yet decided. "What are we doing with our lives?"

"Well, if I recall correctly, we're trying to be the good guys for once." Roderich sighed, trying to release all the conflicting emotions swirling within him. "It's quite draining. I can see why we never tried it before."

"What the hell happened to us? We used to be so much more interesting." Gilbert leaned his head back, staring at the clouds. He silently pleaded for them to give him answers on when this would all end. They responded by taking the vague form of a duck. "I miss the days when we could invade whoever we wanted just because we could. It was simpler time."

"What happened to us? Ludwig happened to us. If you had ignored the nationalists the first time, we wouldn't be in this mess." Roderich plucked a dandelion up from the ground. He considered wishing on it, but it seemed too futile. His wishes were too heavy for such a delicate flower. Instead, he twirled the stem around his finger. "It was simpler, wasn't it? Our way of invading Poland was much more civilized. Three gentlemen agreed to it and the outside world respected that instead of two barbarians carving up the place with total disregard for the lives of the inhabitants." His mind was too lost in nostalgia to remember how brutal the prior partitions had been. With rose-colored glasses, every prior endeavor looked benevolent compared to now.

"I tried ignoring them. You're the one that wanted a son." It was a stale argument from a bygone era. Gilbert didn't wish to renegotiate the terms of Germany's existence, but it was familiar, it was normal. There was no passion in his words. They tasted as bland as they must've sounded. He leaned his head against Roderich's shoulder. "I can't escape the feeling that this is how everything ends. This is how the rest of our lives will be. What if it never ends?"

His vulnerability was surprising. "It has to end, please don't be so pessimistic." But what if he was right? Hadn't Roderich feared the same thing? Before this mess reached his border, he'd watched how it had started up a fever in his own people. How it was unstoppable even now, so many years later. It wasn't the first time he had fought against the will of his own citizens – he had been a staunch monarchist and remained so after all – but this was the first time it ever felt so polarizing. "As long as we keep doing our part. Neither of us should give up now. It's not in our nature." Despite it being how he really felt, he knew how weak his words sounded. They needed more than hope currently; they needed a miracle. He held up the dandelion to Gilbert's mouth. "Make a wish."

His wishes would be obvious ones. For there to be peace; for Ludwig to snap out of the insanity that gripped him; for everything to go back to the way it was before; for there to be the return of some joy to their lives. Gilbert watched the florets fly away, carrying his hopes on them. He closed his eyes, a memory coming to the fore. A long time ago, back when they were children, they had been sitting this way. They had been sitting along the Rhine – or was it the Elbe? Time had made the details fuzzy – giggling and talking about the things children did. It was a rare moment of peace between them, when they weren't focused on shooting each other's eyes out or slitting the other's throats. A glimpse into what a normal, medieval childhood was like.

He missed that feeling of serenity. Missed it more than anything in the world.

The sun had begun setting. Roderich gently nudged him up. Yawning, Gilbert rose and began heading to the car. "Hopefully we won't be home too late. I hate driving at night. All those damn bugs cling to your car."

Roderich sniffed. "Home. How I miss that." He lost himself in thoughts of Vienna. "I believe that's the biggest loss for me. You know how much my home meant to me. I cared for it like you would a child. Now I'm only permitted to be there one week each month." He noticed how Gilbert was looking at him, as if he was glass on the edge a counter, and smiled sadly. "Don't be so concerned. I'm homesick is all. I'll be there soon. I'll host a magnificent party where we can celebrate the end to this episode and do our best to move on."

Gilbert gave him a weak little smile, lacking all his usual bravado. "I can't wait, Roddy." It was a promise, a promise of a better day to come. Exactly the fuel they needed to keep carrying on until the bitter end. Gilbert shifted the car into drive, and they moved forward. It was the only thing they could keep doing.