This Is Our Last Song

Seven- The War Was in Color

"The Soviet Union took my brother away after the end of World War Two, and here you are doing the same thing after World War Three. History repeated itself, didn't it?" Germany slumped over onto the table, defeated. "We were allies, America. We have been for a long time. And you and my brother, you were good friends. My only question is how could you have done something like this to me, to him, after all we've been through?"

"You of all people should know that the actions of my administration are not an accurate depiction of my or my people's wants, needs, and ambitions, Germany," he spat back angrily. He didn't mean to be short with him, but he knew that if he didn't keep this as strictly-business as possible that he wouldn't make it through the rest of the meeting.

"What's happened to you, Alfred? You used to be so expressive and full of life and emotion. Where did all of that empathy go?"

Ludwig looked at him then, and truly saw. Not what Alfred put on display for everyone else, but straight to his core; seeing his secrets and long-abandon emotion. And his eyes were those of a lost man. "It's still there, isn't it, Alfred. You can still feel things like you used to. You've just gotten better at hiding it." His voice sounded distant.

"So what if I do, Ludwig. You've done this before; been forced to hurt your friends and family and killed too many innocent people in someone else's name. Was it a good feeling? Did you feel accomplished when it happened?" Alfred's voice began rising in volume, sounding almost manic as he continued, "Could you sit there and listen to their screams, their agony, and smile through it all, high off of some kind of euphoria? Because if you tell me that you could then you deserve to join them."

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying, Ludwig? What is the message that I'm supposed to be getting?" Alfred's tone was short and frustrated, showing through his calmer facade.

Germany rose to be eye level with the American Empire. "I'm saying that this didn't work once, and it won't work again. You may win the war, but you'll fall all the same. And all of this affects people more than you'll ever know, because you always get what you want, then act like your actions don't have consequences. People have wills of their own that are too strong and too different to be held under a single ideology." They looked each other in the eyes, both shades of blue clashing softly. "Your repercussions will come in due time, America. But I will not be here to witness it."

America paused, coming back into himself slightly and eyes narrowing. "Germany, what are you saying?"

The German let out a low chuckle. "My brother is gone, my family is gone, and my people are gone." He stood, leaving the room through the door near the opposite corner of the room, pausing in the doorway to say, "And I'm going to see them again." Then he disappeared around the corner. America followed him out.

"Germany, where are you going? Isn't the exit the other way?"

He said nothing, just kept walking. At the end of the hallway, he stopped in front of the last door, his hand on the knob. "Alfred," he said.

"Yes?" he responded tentatively.

"Why did you follow me here?" Ludwig still faced the door, so his voice sounded slightly muffled.