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Chapter Text

The bustling of people filling in the huge meeting room. Familiar faces, the chit chat of friendly countries interacting...the small talk. Eugh. It was always poland's least favorite day of the month. It was mostly useless, except for the rare times everyone made the same conclusion to a problem. He looked down into his lap.

Why did he have to come?

He didn't contribute much conversation wise. The big guys would talk over him anyways. All the damn time.

A few minutes passed, everyone has taken their seats. France quietly whispering to Belgium, earning a squeaky giggle from him, Russia playfully punching Belarus in the arm. Austria looking at his own lap and smiling. He must be on his phone or something, and Germany nowhere to be found.
Where the hell has he been? Last time he saw the guy, he was stuffing his shopping basket full of food like nuclear war was impending, all the meanwhile sweating like a pig.

Poland feels a twinge of worry before a loud voice interrupted the feeling.

"Alright lads, meeting in session!" Great Britian exclaimed, his gloved hands clasped together onto the hard metal table.

"What are we thinking in terms of goal discussion?" God, his voice was so huge. From such a scrawny man, it was shocking no matter how many times he heard him speak. Not that he could talk. Ever since the last conflict ended, he hasn't been in the best shape. So he wore sweaters. They were comfy, and hid his not so optimal shape. But his wings made them look frumpy. He really needs to start cutting holes in the back. But then he'd have them hanging out-

"Mister poland, do you have anything to say about this situation?" Great Britain pointed his speaking stick directly at his face.
Oh no. He must've zoned out again.
Everyone turns their heads to Poland.

"About what.. again?" Poland looked up with a nervous grin.

"About Mr. Germany's sudden absences. He is your closest neighbour after all."

Poland felt the gears turning in his head. Oh, right.

"Now that you mention it..where is niemcy??" Poland tried to pretend he was listening.

Why was everyone looking at him?? Why did he have to be the one to get caught not paying attention?

"I..am quite worried for poor Germany!" Poland suddenly stood up, one hand planted on the table. "I think we should go find him!"
He plasters a determined look on his sweaty face.
Czechia claps.

"Yes..yes!" Other than that, silence. And some slight throat clearing from Morroco. Russia grabs the speaking stick from Great Britain. "How rude! You must ask beforehand!" The older gentleman mutters. "Yeah, next time." Russia retorts. "Let's go find him. He owes me something anyway." He grins.

"We?" France grumbles. "I still have some very important matters to discuss with the lot of you!" She huffs.
"For the last time, your ideas for your new villa in Spain are NOT VERY IMPORTANT MANNERS!" netherlands spits out.

"How dare you talk to me that way little boy!?" France gasps, her eyes wide.

Thus ensues most of the central europe countries trying to pull both the Netherlands and France off each other. But the French's purse swinging in the air made it difficult to even approach her as she lunged onto the smaller country.

Great Britain sighs. "What a woman..oh right, ah, Germany." The other countries were more calm, albeit intrigued at the sight of France throttling Netherlands like a ragdoll.

"Poland, you investigate his house. Russia, you go with him because ah.." Great Britain takes Russia's shoulder, gripping it gently whispering to the bigger man. "You know, just in case there's trouble, you know as well as I do that he won't be able to defend himself." Russia nods, stifling a chuckle
Poland glares at the two men.

The British man sends them on their way with a bag of supplies "just in case you two run into difficulties" he said.

"I'm sure we'll be fine." Poland grumbled. He wasn't some baby to be taken care of. He shudders, feeling humiliated.

"Ooh, tea packets." Russia holds one up.

"No need to thank me!" The British man holds his head up high, closing his eyes.

"There's cough syrup! and painkillers, and they're gone." Great Britain huffs, opening his eyes to find the two men gone from the meeting room.

He swivels his head to see the rest of the countries getting themselves comfortable watching a heated argument between France and Luxembourg, she seems to be defending the now unconscious netherlands, Switzerland tends to the smaller man's purple eye.
Great Britain sighs. Looking around, he can't find the speaking stick. Russia took it with him, the damn bastard. He sighs, sinking back into his stiff chair. Meanwhile, the pair make their way to Niemcy's house.

Chapter Text

The walk to Germany's house was mostly uneventful.

The sun was nowhere to be seen as dark stormy clouds rolled in, threatening to pour down soon.

"Did Mr. Britain pack an umbrella?" Poland asks.

"Ah...yes. a frumpy looking parasol it seems. Fitting don't you think?" Russia smirks, twirling the small thing in his calloused hands.

"Mhm, sure." Poland sighs, kicking a small pebble out of the way of his next step.

"What's got you down little guy?"

"Ugh.. Just in a bad mood after the meeting."

"Why? It's like every single other one we've ever had." Russia says matter-of-factly.

"Exactly. It was like every single one. I hate them." Poland grumbles out.

"They're not that bad, and hey, You spoke in this one! I was very surprised." Russia cackles.

"How is that funny??"

"It's funny because it's true!"

"Shut up." Poland looks up, seeing Germany's driveway approaching. "We're here." He pokes Russia.

"Oh, and his little Volkswagen is still here! You don't think he's..?"

"Don't you say that!" Poland hisses. "That's stupid. He would have sent us a 10 day notice."

The rain begins to trickle, making Poland panic. He absolutely loathed getting his wings wet. "Hurry, under his patio." He takes russia's arm, leading him under the shelter. "You'll be fine you know, you're not made of sugar...Or are you?" Russia teases.
"Stop being gay." Poland grumbles.

"Don't you fucking say that. That thing with America was one time!-"
The door squeaks open, the wind picking up. "That's..weird-" Poland says, quickly ripping himself out of Russia's grasp.
Russia huffs, slamming the door open.

"Russia!" Poland hisses. "You could have broken the door!"

"Whatever, look around for Germany."

Russia digs into the bag, throwing Poland one of the heavy duty flashlights, or "torches" as the British man calls them.
While Russia heads over to to the kitchen, Poland makes his way to the bedrooms. "So creepy.." He looks over the walls, finding portraits of a smaller Germany.

How cute, the younger german in a too-small lederhosen holding up a fish he proudly caught.

He looked so happy, his grin wide and not so picture perfect, making one of those smiles young children do; teeth positioned in a way closer to a snarl with his conjoined brother on his hip. They were stuck for a bit before the surgery that turned fatal, leaving only one brother. "Niemcy doesn't talk about him often.." Poland whispers to himself.

He stifled a cough, moving deeper into the hallway.

There it was, an older family portrait. His creepy murderer of a father and an even tinier Germany, the poor boy looked malnourished.

Poland quickly looks away. Eugh. Before he knew it, he reached the end of the hallway.

The main bedroom was now in front of him. Gulping, Poland grabs the door knob tightly like it was going to fly away. Turning it and opening the door, He didn't know what to expect, a smelly bloated corpse ready to explode on him the moment he sets his eye upon it? A rabid animal prepared to lunged directly onto his face? God he hopes not.

Instead, he finds a relatively nice smelling room, albeit a bit messy looking. The floor was covered in clothes, the cabinets carelessly flung open, empty of course as the contents were scattered around the floor. Pens and papers laying flat around the well furnished bedroom. Laying his eyes on the bed, he notices a big fat lump under the wrinkled sheets. Niemcy! It must be! Poland sighs in relief, taking a quick stride towards the bed. The lump seemed to be breathing slowly.
In, then out. In, then out again. "Niemcy! You made us so worried!!" Poland tenderly places a hand onto his back. That's when the lump stops its rhythmic motion. "...Niemcy? Come on..if you're sick, me and Russia brought you medicine." Poland laughs, shaking the mass. It rumbles awake, quickly darting away from Poland's touch. "Polen? Hi." A groggy voice speaks quickly, peeking an eye out from under the blanket.

"Niemcy!" The pole exclaims.

"Hi polen..hi. What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you why you aren't here! Well, there..outside!" Poland huffs. "Do you think we wouldn't notice your disappearance?! I mean seriously, you haven't called in sick, or even gave us a notice! You dropped off the face of the earth!"

"Sorry, I'll talk to you all tomorrow-" The voice grumbled,

"No! You need some light in your room, it's so unlike you." Poland walks over to a lamp.

"Wait, wait!" The voice screeched.

The lamp turned on, its warm yellow light filling most of the room. Showing the full extent of the mess of the room as well as the head of the thing that was under the blankets. "Niemcy it's fine-"
Poland's face freezes in terror, looking down at the bed.
That isn't Germany.

"Wait please!" He squeals.

His horrible head poked out, its shape easy to remember. Poland tried to shake the vision away, his hands shaking.

Chapter Text

"You're not niemcy!" Poland yelps, backing away quickly to the closest corner.

This wasn't Germany, the slightly disheveled man that he knew well(ish).

"You're that thing..! What have you done with him!?" Poland manages to scream, alerting Russia from the other side of the house. The Russian barges in with his food. "What!?"
"You asshole, you were raiding his kitchen!?" Poland wheezes out, his eyes wide.

"Ohhh..shit." Russia looks at the writhing figure no longer concealed by the blanket. Reichtangle. That infamous animal. The inhumane monster that once paraded around as one of them, taking others into his unhinged maw without care.

Poland can still hear his ear piercing giggles, The weird sadistic games he'd play with the smaller man. He backed away, hiding behind Russia, who couldn't stop glaring at that..thing.
"I told you to wait! Bitte, I told you!!"

"Shut up! We're not listening to you unless you tell us what you've done with germany!" Polands ribs flared, his breathing ragged as he heard the familiar lilt of Germany's voice under the deepness.
Reichtangle seemed distressed. "No, no! It's me, germany!" He begs. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what's going on-"
Russia grabs Poland, bolting for the door. "I think Germany is gone."
Poland grabs at Russia's arm, making him wince. "It's..it's got to be niemcy!" He cries.
"You don't really think that nasty thing could be him?? He's just fucking with you!" Russia growls, his legs pushing them closer and closer to the heavy door. Reichtangle..or Germany's long unnatural legs made him fast. Poland turned around, Germany mere inches away from them. Russia yelps as he is pushed onto the ground along with Poland, his head banging against the floor, making his ears ring. The feared Tier was above them, wheezing for air, staring down at the two.
"Listen you idiots! I was...I was hiding okay??? I'm not going out like this." Germany points to himself.
"What the actual hell is going on with you?!" Russia huffs shakily, holding Poland close to his rapidly rising chest. Poland felt..oddly safe right now, but he wouldn't dare mention it. "I have..no idea either. I didn't want to scare anyone. Or get killed, so I er, stayed inside until it would go away..?" Germany got off of the two, dusting them off, Russia slapping his dark-clawed hand off of his leg. "What if it didn't go away??" The german went quiet, looking away pitifully. "You're not going to kill us?"

"NO! I'm not. I don't feel so good. Ever since this whole thing happened." Germany grabs his face, almost as if to rip his skin off.
"You look..really fucking creepy." Poland shudders.

"Don't you think I know that!?"

"Sorry..I'm sure the others can find a solution for this."

"We'll probably have to kill you." Russia pouts.

Germany does not like the sound of that, his eyes widening, the glowing dots twitching in fear.

"Russia!" Poland hisses.
"It's true! They got rid of him last time like that. I heard they burnt him alive-mmph!"
"Shut up!" Poland holds Russia's mouth closed. "I'm sure the others will find another solution." Poland looks in germany's general direction, not daring to look into his eyes. He was afraid, he couldn't lie. Looking at the form his friend took was like staring at the sun itself. "Can you cover yourself please?"
"Right..sorry." Germany stands up, his height horrifying. Watching his legs move further away felt like a relief. His presence right now was so heavy. The body carried horrible thoughts. Terrifying memories of the past that could never be forgotten. Poland didn't dare breathe until he was gone. "Russia, what if we never get him back??" His lower lip starts to tremble.

"Oh god..don't cry." He pats poland's back. "It makes you look really gross." He says tenderly.
"How helpful." Poland sniffles.
Germany comes back with his blanket, his face covered.
Now he looked like a oversized ghost costume.
"I-I suppose we can go right now, and tell the others that you're alive-" Poland is interrupted. "No." Germany mutters.
Poland glared at the fabric covered man. "What?"

"Russia can go. I..dont know..I really need you here..waiting with me."

"We can just bring you along."

"No. We're staying here. He goes."

Poland looked disturbed.

"I'll be quick." Russia glares at germany.
"You better not be fucking with us, or you'll be burning quicker than you can say your own name!" Germany huffs. "..It's me, I told you already..I just really need..him close by." He gently pulls Poland, making him gasp out a little in fear. "You don't mind..do you?" Germany grumbles softly, content for the first time in months. Poland gulps. "Whatever it takes to get you back, buddy."
Russia leaves quickly, glaring at the german one final time before the door shuts behind him. All is silent but the sound of germany's crumpled blanket shifting and twisting as he holds Poland closer. "I wonder when our friend will return.."

"Please hurry russia." Poland weakly whispers.

Chapter Text

First, darkness. Then a soft breeze hits Germany's face. He opens his eyes carefully. In front of him spans an endless field of wheat, the thin golden strands of stems blowing in the wind.
He smiles widely, giggling gently as the wind tickles his face. Germany decides to wander about this field. He had little chances of frolicking in his daily life, why shouldn't he take a chance now? His pace began at a gallop, then a sprint through the long wheat.
"Yay!! YIPPEE!!" Germany cried, his legs taking him through the landscape with surprising speed. That's when he bumped into a black wall that seemingly came out of nowhere.
"Ow-" Germany stumbled to the ground, his body flattening part of the ground.
A familiar pair of gleaming eyes stared down at the poor German.

"How embarrassing." The black wall cackles darkly.

"Fuck, what are you..??" Germany shook his head, coming to his senses.

"Is that any way to address your Opa?"

"Grandfather??" Germany's face freezes.

It's true. Looking further up, Germany begins to recognize the body as well. The gangly limbs and rectangle head attached to the broad torso, his atrocious taste of clothing (more like old war-time uniform rags), and his monstrous tone of voice, the friendly lilt of Reichtangle's voice so forced, it almost sounded painful.

"What do you want, Grandfather?" Germany gulps, his body trembling.

This must be a dream..he's been dead for so long. Any time Germany dreamed about him, he always wanted something.
"Why must you always insist on me having some ulterior motives whenever I visit you my dear boy? What if I just want to see how you are doing?" Reichtangle tries to make an expression that resembles a pout.

"Yeah, what if? T-The thing is you don't." Germany furrows his brows.

"Ah...You've caught me! Are you proud of yourself my boy?" Reichtangle giggles softly, his eyes crinkled up. "You should be very proud. You should wake up soon."

"Don't tell me what to do, old man!" Germany growls, getting up quickly to meet his grandfather's height and....Oh right. The guy is huge.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, boy. I have given you something so wonderful, and now you think you can boss me around?" Reichtangle lowers his head down to Germany's height.

"You're forgetting which one of us is in control, little boy."

"Control..?? You have no control over me!" Germany looks on, determined to get his point across.

"Oh really?" Reichtangle snarls mockingly. "Wake up and find out the truth, HAHA!"

"Shut up old man!" Germany huffs, running through the field away from his really odd grandpa.

"Come back here little boy!" Reichtangle began to gallop towards his fleeing grandson. Why was he running away?? Did he not already know this was a dream, The monstrous creature thought as he chased on. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" Reichtangle huffs.

Germany ran as fast as he could, which wasn't much. "Away from you!"

"You'd have to wake up for that, dumbass!" Reichtangle huffs, getting tired of this meaningless chase.
Germany stops running, tripping over a tangled wheat bunch.

All black once again.

"THERE!! HAPPY NOW?!" Germany exclaims, throwing his arms into the air.

"AHHGG!" Poland sits up, holding the sides of his head, his nonexistent ears ringing.
"Oh, you were sleeping too, polen?" Germany smiles from under the blanket over his own head.
"yeah, I had no choice. Either that or stay awake in your lap." Poland rubs his eyes.
"Ah..I see." Germany huffs, holding Poland, rubbing at his head in a soothing motion.

"You know, you have to take care of yourself, polen." Germany spits on his hand, polishing Poland's face. "I'm fine." Poland tries to reason with Germany, who was currently too busy spit-shining the pole to hear him out.
"Nein! You must moisturize!" Germany huffs, wiping Poland's face dry with the blanket. "Your spit burns, asshole!" Germany coos gently, singing gently to him. "I know..."
Poland grumbles, pushing himself off of Germany. He stands up brushing himself off. "You'll be fine if you're not holding me for a few damn minutes!"

"No..no I won't be!" Germany's breath picks up. He can't seem to stand the idea of being seperated from Poland.  "Okay, calm down!" Poland pushes himself back into Germany's shaking arms.

Chapter Text

Germany continues to hold Poland, slipping his long fingers on Poland's cheek in a very snake-like way.
"I'm so glad you're here.."
Poland grunts, unhappy with the situation. "I feel like Russia is taking long on purpose, the bastard."
"I'm sure the rest of the guys will find a solution for ah..this problem."

Poland glares at the sweaty german. "Let's be honest, it probably won't be for a long time. It could be weeks..o-or months! What do we do then??" Poland's eyes squeeze shut, trying to shoo away the possibility of the terrifying future. Germany squeezed in some cage to get gawked at and mocked by tiny little countries, unafraid of the huge creature from a dark past, sealed away until his inevitable-

"Snap out of it dummkopf! You're going to stress me out." Germany huffs, squeezing Poland's clammy hand.

"...I'll try."

Meanwhile, Russia huffs, running back to where the meeting was held not too long ago, stopping before the glass door.

"Hmm..." Russia hummed, his eyes gazing down to his grimy shoes. How does one explain the situation Germany was in?? Oh yeah, he turned into his damn grandpa that we thought of as dead!
What a family heirloom...a curse more. Maybe....

Russia quickly shakes his head. No..he can't do that to his friend..he could still be in there, wrapped around that nasty tissue and meat of Reichtangle.

Russia hesitates to open the door. He feels the cold air conditioning hit his hot face. Looking around the large hall, he spots the slightly opened door of the meeting room. Usually he isn't this nervous. Crazier things have happened in his life, why is he jittery now?

He opens the door fully.
"Guys! I found out what happened with Germany!"

Heads turned and faces were twisted with worry and confusion.

The rest of the western countries were still there, Netherlands nowhere to be found.

"He's gone isn't he?!" France shrieks, her grip on her beret that laid on her lap tightened.
Great Britain sighs shakily, removing his fragile metal framed bifocals.
"Is it true..?"

"Uhm, he's not dead, if that's what you're insinuating." Russia chuckles dryly.

"Merde.." France digs 20 euros out of her pocket, handing it to Great Britain.

He licks his lips, giggling in his leather swivel chair.

"So what happened?? Hurry up already!" Denmark sputters out, his small face puffed up, impatient to find out what happened to his friend.
"He's..turned into reichtangle?? I-i don't know how else to explain." Russia felt crazy just saying that.

"Are you crazy? We quite literally burned that thing at the stake!" Great Britain cries out. Spain is woken up from the yell, nearly falling out of his own seat. "Ugh..! Reichtangle..! That fucking grandfather of his??" Spain rubs his tired face.

The Czech Republic and Slovakia trade glances.

"No, I'm not crazy! He's turned all tall a-and fucking huge! He's got sharp claws and-"

"I've heard enough." America huffed from the other side of the meeting table. "That sounds like a monster, not our little bratwurst boy.."

"What are you suggesting, that I'm lying??" Russia grunts out, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What I'm suggesting is that...that THING ate him!" America yells, his arms flapping all over the place.

"You're fucking stupid!"

America glares at Russia, grinning as if he thought of something life changing. "Am I stupid or am I observant..?"

"YOU'RE STUPID."

"Alright, alright now lads! Maybe we go and..see him?" Ireland suggests, emerging from under the table.

Russia and America glare at each other, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe.." they say in unison.

Russia grins a little creepily. "I have an idea."

Chapter Text

Dusk sets in, light quickly draining for the night time to move in. Poland has a bad feeling in his stomach, a pit. This didn't feel real. Being essentially held hostage by Germany until Russia returned. For now, Germany was passed out on the couch, conserving energy for such a huge vessel no doubt. No use dwelling on it right now, the two men still had to eat. Poland grunts as he picks potatoes out of a cloth bag that seemed close to busting at the seams.

"So that's where the food was going." Poland muttered to himself, wiping a peeler for the potatoes. He also noticed bags on top of bags of bread, all types. Pumpernickel, Brötchen, as well as rye. There won't be any need for any of them for the recipe Poland had in mind.

He takes a pot, filling it with filtered water.
Why was the water so ..mineral-y at Germany's house?

Poland gets to work on peeling the potatoes. One by one they are peeled effortlessly, the finished ones dropped into a pot of cold water. He then looked around, finding a little salt shaker on Germany's table. "Perfect!" Poland smiles to himself. He is precise, adding but a pinch of salt—no more, no less.
He looks around for a lighter, realizing Germany had an electric stove. He giggles to himself.
"Let's see.." Poland sets his eyes on his friends refrigerator next.

"Let's see indeed..!" America laughs, comically large binoculars held in his hands.

"Are you sure he's not just being a good friend? Poland seems to just be making a meal?" Ireland suggests towards the two lovebir- men. The three men were in Germany's lawn, hiding in his tenderly cared for berry bushes.

"No! He's a hostage! I should have never left him.. goddamn it! Stupid..stupid, stupid!" Russia whispers harshly.

"Don't worry, we'll get Poland back, safe and sound." America chuckles, his mouth twisted in a mischievous grin. "But first, we need to see this new style of Germany's."

Russia was too busy punching himself in the face to hear.

America points his binoculars less to Poland calmly collecting the rest of the dish's ingredients, and more to the big..thing covered in a patterned blanket on the couch. It's lungs were certainly big if it made the fabric float up into the air whenever it took a breath out.
"Come on...show yourself.." America urges to no one. He was shaking with antici....pation.

Russia stopped to glare at America. "For the past hour that we've been here, you haven't let us see! What is happening to my weak friend?!"
"It seems he's being forced to cook..*GASP!* d-dill potatoes!" America gags. "And instead of using clarified ghee..he's using BUTTER!!!" The frightened American draws back in fear, dropping his binoculars right onto Ireland's head.

"Ow!"
Russia takes this opportunity to seize the binoculars, taking a peek at the supposed scene.

Poland was draining the boiled potatoes, quiet whistles are barely made out.

"He really is cooking..well, it makes sense." Russia grumbles. It's time to go in. Russia clambers out of the bush. "Come on men, we have to see what's going on!"
"WITHOUT THOSE FUCKING BINOCULARS!" Russia growls, holding them closer to his chest. America huffed, rolling his eyes pretending not to care.

Ireland groaned.

"Why did I agree to come??"

Russia hummed gently before kicking down the front door once more. "Poland, we are here to save you, don't resist!"
Germany shoots up, his eyes glowing sharply through the warm yellow lighting of his room, right at the intruders. Poland poked his head out of the kitchen, obviously confused.

"WHAT THE FUCK!? ARE YOU POSSESSED LAD?!" Ireland shouts, his limbs frozen.

America glares right back, grabbing a screwdriver from his back pocket before being stopped by Russia. "Not here.." he harshly whispered. "Hello ah..Germany?" Russia puts on his best smile. (Not that good.)

"Y-youre back!" Germany smiled with his eyes, his face sweaty. "I figured I'd sleep the time off. Did you tell everyone else..?"

"You can say that."

Ireland barely huffed out a "yeah."

"So, are there any plans? Any solutions yet?" Germany stood up, his full height revealed, the horror returns.

"Soon, my friend. Soon. Don't worry your pretty big head." Russia hummed gently, his hands hidden behind his back.

Germany sinks back into the couch, his eyes indecernable from the rest of his face when he blinks. "Thanks..?"

Poland has been silent the whole time, wondering what Russia and America were up to. Ireland just seemed to tag along. What's going on? When will this nightmare be over??

Chapter Text

Russia sniffs the air, looking around for the source. "Are you cooking something?" He asks a clearly stressed Poland.

"Yes. Dill potatoes." Poland quietly responds, looking at his feet.

"Are you sad?" Russia stifles a small chuckle, looking at America's face contorted into a smirk.

"No, I'm not! I'm so..so mad at you!" Poland yells. "Why did you take so damn long to come back?! Leaving me all alone with Reichtangle!"

Germany sinks into the couch, his eyes narrowing. "You still think that..?"

"No! I mean of course not.." Poland clears his throat.

America sighs. "Look guys, we're here to help. You should be grateful we aren't killing-!" Russia shoots him a glare.

"Killing..time! yes! That's right. We must get help in order!"

Russia says in a totally believable way.

Poland raises an non-existent eyebrow while America takes a seat at the table, little doilies for coasters, an off-white compared to the dark wood of the background.

"What are we having again?"

"Dill potatoes." Poland replies, shoveling spoonfuls of the yellow starch filled balls onto a chipped porcelain plate. America gulps, drool falling from his lips as the plate of food gets set in front of the him. "Not bad little potato boy!" America giggles, stuffing his face, pieces of tiny potato chunks fly onto his fat cheeks.

Russia takes a seat at the table right next to America, eyeing Germany walking towards the two. "Say big guy, what's it like in there?"

Germany grabs a full plate, slightly flinching at the inquiry, as if the question's reasoning was a shock.
"I.. hate it. It feels like I'm trapped in a mildewy suit."

Germany sinks into his chair, the rest of the chairs were folding lawn chairs, as the German did not have company often at home.

Russia hummed, almost in understanding. "Don't worry, we'll help. I'm sure we'll get your scrawny ass back! We'll kick your grandpa's ass." He chuckles, making Poland sneer with how nonchalant he was acting about this whole..thing.

"Can we address the elephant in the room??" Poland grunts, slamming his shaking fist onto the table.

America looks up, his face covered in pieces of dill, licking his lips. "What?"

"It's clear that youre uncomfortable with how Niemcy looks like his fucking opa." Poland huffs. "You're just trying to front, you don't have to hide it, Russia."

"Hey, don't tell me how I'm feeling, your gay ass wants to be an empath so badly. Just because you're facing your fear of Reichtangle doesn't make you better than me." Russia spits out a piece of potato skin missed by the potato peeler.

America gently pets Russia's back as he notices his lo- friend get worked up. "Dude, it's fine.."

Germany was keeping quiet during all this, dying of humiliation.
"I KNOW how creepy I look alright??" he strains his voice. "Now if you'll excuse me." He sets down his fork, leaving for his room.

"Niemcy, wait! You have to eat!-" Poland jumps up, walking behind Germany.

Russia looks down at his plate while America continues to rub his back. "You think they're onto us?"

Russia shakes his head. "Hopefully not. But they'll understand when it works. We just have to keep it hush hush."

The two men converse in silence with their eyes as they eat their potatoes.

Meanwhile, in Germany's room, Poland lays beside the dresser while Germany crawls into his too-small bed, squeezing himself.

"I hate this as much as you Polen, you know that right?" Germany's voice cracks ever so slightly.

"I know.." Poland has nothing to do besides playing with his own hands. "I'm sorry if what I said earlier ticked you off buddy."
"I know you're still Germany. It's so hard to see it, especially the way you were acting while they were gone-"

Germany tenses up, his eyes narrowing. "Ugh..I don't know what came over me then. I just really need you here. Just you. I don't know why you make me feel-"

"I think I know why." Poland stops him.

"Why?" Germany sits up from his bed, his eyes glowing with interest.

"Your grandfather, you remember how weird he was about me." Poland squeezed his eyes shut, almost not bearing to even think about the memories.

Chapter Text

The dining room is illuminated with candlelight, an embroidered cotton cloth laid onto a dark wooden table made at home, a place of pride for the homeowner, Reichtangle.

Walking by the window, He sees dark storm clouds pierced the outside sky with crackling lightning, followed by huge booms, reminiscent of a Gewehr 98 going off far, far away.

The large empire smiles, his shoes meeting his linoleum floor with loud *clicks.*

Reichtangle hums to himself, setting a plate of braised flesh onto his table, staring down at his succulent meal.

This wasn't just any meal, it was delicious victory in a dish. Reichtangle's rightful feast after a conquest for his own territory. As he sat down, tucking a napkin under the collar of his shirt, a piece of skin slipped off of the piece of meat, floating to the top in the still-simmering liquid of the dish, the plate more of a shallow bowl.

Reichtangle couldn't help licking his sharp mouth, he was so hungry, all the damn time. He knew he was missing a piece deep inside. He searched for it in this.. It was all worth feeling less empty.

Taking a knife and fork into his closing claws, he surgically cut a piece of shiny, oily skin off of his neighbor's leg, cooked to perfection, to fall-apart texture.

Another lightning strike cracked through the quiet atmosphere, a candle flickers out.

"Sheiße." Reichtangle huffs, his glowing eyes narrowing into slits. Now, he didn't necessarily need the light, but he loved making things look pretty. Reichtangle pushed himself away from the table almost mechanically, slowly traversing his now dark house. Down the hallway, taking a right down to the cellar, dry and moldy.

Looking for the matches wasn't easy, he usually used his old lighter, but it recently ran out of oil, and he didn't want to fuss with the tiny thing with his large hands. Opening the cellar's door, the sight of the rest of France laid in a small pile on top of a white tarp, her severed limbs laid on top of each other like royal blue and red branches to feed the fire within him.

"Frankreich? Have you seen the matches?" Reichtangle asks calmly, his hand pulling the small piece of string that lighted the lightbulb above.

France clearly didn't respond, her torso slipping off of limbs slowly, the coagulation of her blood essentially making a large scab on the outside of her body, connecting everything with a brown-red web.

"I asked you a question, woman." Reichtangle grumbles, his claws rummaging through boxes until he comes across a smaller box with large black letters on the side that read "STREICHHOLZCHÄCHTELCHEN."

He smiles as much as his face allows him to when feeling that familiar little box of matches, rubbing a claw on the side.

"Thank you for the help, Frankreich." He huffs to himself, closing the cellar door behind him when he walks into the hallway.

He begins to hum an up-beat tune, usually he would be grumpy if his meals were interrupted. However, nothing can ruin this for him. Absolutely nothing. This was a special occasion.

He sighs into his chair, melting onto the cushion. Carefully grabbing a match with the tip of his nails, he strikes the side of the box, gently lighting the only candle on the table. Orange light illuminates the surrounding area, the white table cloth softly glowing underneath the small flame.

Reichtangle and his stomach both groan. "Come here you lovely piece of-"

A knock rings through the quiet manor, the large oak door vibrating with the force of the rather large fist hitting it.

"WHAT?!" Reichtangle screams in the direction of the entrance, his torso flaring with his breathing picking up.

One instance of distraction was enough, now two?

Reichtangle fumed, pushing himself up with a grunt, shoving his chair to the floor, heading to the door, getting ready to strangle someone.

A dear neighbor of his, Austro-Hungary looks back at him. With a crooked smile on her face, she lifts a potato bag into the air, right in front of her large friend. "Look what I found, freund!" She chirps, her occupied hand reddening with the force she exerts on holding the bag.

"..What is it?" Reichtangle shakes his head, his eyes narrowing on the mass wriggling inside.

Austro-hungary chuckles, her eye patches moving off of her eyeholes as her full cheeks push them up.
"It's a little treat! Thought you might like him, he's pretty cute!"

"Thanks, but I'm already having dinner. I can't spoil my appetite."

Austro-Hungary pouts, her thin lips contorted into a frown.

Reichtangle groans, his head hung down. "..come in."

Chapter Text

Reichtangle leads Austro-Hungary into his kitchen, one of the first rooms of the manor.

"So what have you brought me today , Fraülein? I'm quite..Hungary." Reichtangle licks his mouth, giggling and snorting.

Austro-Hungary purses her lips.
"I'm getting quite tired of that joke."

"Whatever, you couldn't make a funnier joke if you tried." Reichtangle eyes the bag, still moving, much weaker than before.

Austro-Hungary thinks, opening her mouth. "Why did the-"

"That wasn't an invitation." Reichtangle mutters.

This woman was the only one that understood him, thus being one of the few rare empires he actually enjoyed the company of, as well as gave worth to. Much to no one's surprise, he didn't have a lot of company (or friends for that matter) due to the fact that he was a sadistic monster.

"Anyways, OPEN THE BAG!!" Reichtangle pushes austro-hungary, his mouth emitting animalistic whining noises.

"What is the password?" She coos.

"MOVE." Reichtangle pushes her aside, digging into the bag himself.

"Bastard!" She cries, dusting herself off after nearly tripping on her gown.

"What do we have here?" He laughs, pulling out a shivering little poland, dangling him in the air by one skinny leg. With his claws wrapped around his calf, he noticed how bony the boy was.

"Please..don't hurt me.." Poland chokes out, his eyes red and puffy.

"Oh don't worry, what I'm going to do won't hurt... At least not for long!" Reichtangle giggles, looking over at Austro-Hungary for approval, who looks like she got indigestion from his corny statement.

"Just eat him already! I didn't catch him for you to play with him. It's rude to do that with your food. Did your father not teach you that?" She crosses her arms, huffing.

Reichtangle tries to roll his beady eyes, but can't.

"Look, I can do what I want. You can leave if you don't like it."

Austro-Hungary groans. "Eat him before he gets too sweaty, is all I am saying."

"I'll have you know I LIKE the sweat! I LIKE the aftertaste of fear!" Reichtangle roars, still holding onto the frightened Poland, shaking him vehemently.

While the lovebirds were having a spat, Poland looked around the dark-ish kitchen, upside down from his high point of view. Close to the wall laid a heavy looking table, a nasty looking dish on top. Oh god, this was the end. He was going to get cooked and eaten. The candle on the table drips wax slowly on the cloth.

He began to sob, sniffle as his tears ran down to his forehead.

Reichtangle paused to glance at Poland, his creepily wide grin returning to his face.

"Look, he's crying!"

He points to Poland's pale wet face.

Austro-Hungary smirked. "He is, isn't he?" She giggles. "I've noticed he does that a lot."

He hung there, frozen.

"Please.."

"Hmm..fine!You're too skinny anyway, you know that?" Reichtangle shakes him again, making Poland wrap his arms around himself.

"Yeah, I should have fattened you up first." Austro-Hungary thinks to herself.

"Yeah, you should have." Reichtangle huffs. "Now I have to do your work."

Reichtangle sits at the table, dropping Poland onto the floor.

Austro-Hungary's eyes widened under the patches, stepping closer to the table. "You're not really going to..?"

Reichtangle shrugs. "It's not like it's much."

He grabs Poland's face, squeezing his jaw open. "It's good and healthy food. Eat it. You'll grow big and strong." Reichtangle forks a piece of lukewarm leg meat onto the utensil.

He shoves the fork into Poland's open mouth, chipping the front tooth from the force.

Poland gags from the overly-salty taste, his tongue trying its best to eject the piece of flesh.

Reichtangle scoffs. Shoving the flesh back into the small boy's mouth once again, he clamps his mouth shut.

"Chew it." Reichtangle insists, staring into Poland's eyes.

Poland gags again and again, fearful of throwing up.

"You are an ungrateful little brat. I am sharing my meal with you, even giving you the first bite, and you treat me like this?" Reichtangle spits out, twisting his claws around Poland's head, dangerously close to crushing it.

Poland quickly swallows the piece, as well as his chipped piece of tooth, scratching his esophagus slightly as it goes down–followed by retching into Reichtangle's hand.

"What a disgusting creature!" Reichtangle laughs cruelly, wiping himself on Poland's crumpled button up. The poor boy looked sickly green.

"I suppose he can't handle such highly nutritious meals." Reichtangle looked almost sheepish.

"Of course he can't. He's a tiny little orphan, he probably has never had a proper meal." Austro-Hungary has been looking at this whole exchange, it was entertaining for her at least.

"Poor little thing!" She coos, gently scratching his quivering head.

"Stop that! You'll spoil him." Reichtangle grunts.

"Oh shut up, I do it with every little thing I give you, and they seem to be just fine when it's time for your meal." She picks up Poland, his body crumpling over her cold arms.

"Speaking about time, I must go." Austro-Hungary murmurs. "I think you should wait for him to get bigger on his own. He can't even take down a bite." She sets down Poland, his knees buckling.

"Hm. So be it." Reichtangle sighs, kneeling down to Poland's height.

"Be grateful for now, Polen." Reichtangle grins, poking poland in the middle of his face, making his flinch.

"I think you're going to be a fine state one day. You'll be good for me, right?" Reichtangle gently whispers next to Poland's head, holding his shoulders.

Poland shakily nods, barely comprehending the words.

"Good. Now run along. Go on, you little brat." Reichtangle grabs the boy's collar, pushing him out of the front door.

Behind Poland, the heavy door slams shut. He felt like he could breathe again, a large breath of air escaped his lungs.
Poland's patchy wings flutter a tiny bit at the sight of the dark sky, now pouring hard.

The dark grey clouds have never looked so relieving to little Poland.

Feeling the harsh cold breeze nip at his cheeks, he runs faster than ever before, his wings flapping against the force. Rain spotted the streets, turning the cobblestone dark. Shallow puddles formed on the deeper grooves of the rock. His shoes dampened, the holes in the soles not helping. The street's oil lights fire flickered in and out with every raindrop falling into the small glass box.

He wanted to get away forever, but he had a feeling this wasn't going to be the only time he encountered that monster. A new fear attached to him.

Reichtangle's words ringed in his mind.

"Be grateful for now."

The way that Biest said his name sent shivers down his spine. He felt sick to his stomach. What—or who exactly did he feed him anyway?? He had a good idea, but refused to think about it any further.

Peaking through the clouds was a white-hot sun, its beams shining through the holes of the dark clouds.
Things would be fine. For now.

Chapter Text

Germany sat there, his face twisted with thought.

"Mein Gott, polen..No wonder I'm hard to look at." He crumpled into his own lap, hiding his face as best as he could.

Poland clears his throat, trying his best to keep what little composure he had left.

"I know you're still you, But I've seen your face in my nightmares. Ever since I've met him, Reichtangle never stopped following me. Trying to make me part of him. To be controlled. He never had enough.."fun". I don't think he could've. Sick in the head, that bastard. Reichtangle loved that I was afraid of him. As much as I want to be brave, just thinking of him makes my skin crawl. You understand right?" He looks down to his arms, picking at the lint on his sweater.

Germany winced a little, he knew this should be a normal reaction to his state, but it still stung.
"You know I do. M-My Vater. He..."

He goes silent, his breath picking up ever so slightly before he soothes himself, his hands rubbing against each other. "I'm so sorry Polen. There can never be an apology sufficient enough, not one that could ever give back what was ripped away. I really..I promise I'm not him. Even when I have this body." His beady eyes widened, small tears trickled down his face.

Poland looked back at Germany, seeing small differences. Softer angles, tired eyes softly shining down onto him, a rose red body instead of bleached bone white.

"I believe you, I truly do."

With that, Germany's brain felt like it was being crushed, wrapped around by a scorching hot, suffocating grip.

"SHEIẞE!!" Germany screamed, feeling choked from the inside all of a sudden.

Grabbing his head, it felt like his eyes were going to explode out of his face into his claws.

Poland rushed to his side, racing to do something, anything.

"Niemcy!!" Poland shrieked, alerting America and Russia still in the dinner room.

"SHUT UP!!" Germany huffed in and out raggedly, his breath feeling ice cold, countless black dots flooded his spinning vision.

Memories that weren't his filled his mind, actions that were being celebrated that would make a normal Country curl up and die in a cold corner out of self-disgust.

Germany shook back and forth, seeming to try and push away whatever was happening internally, meanwhile Russia rushed in the room with America behind him.

"Polen what did you do???" Russia yells.

"Nothing!!! I was telling him
about seeing Reichtangle for the first time–"

America pushes Poland by the doorway, out of supposed danger.

"You DUMBASS! You probably triggered something! Get away from him, WE'LL END THIS!"

America unsheathes the screwdriver he hid in his breast pocket, the rusty metal barely shining in the room's light, pointing the dull tool at a barely conscious Germany, trembling on the corner of his too-small bed.

"Come here you german bastard!"
Russia's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "AMERICA!" He shouts, signaling him to put it away, waving his hand down.

America slowly puts it down, spitting curses under his breath. "What, Ruski??"

Russia's eyes dart to Poland, still at the doorway.

America clears his throat, looking at the frozen Poland. "I wasn't gonna hurt him! I was simply going to protect us both!"

"Please. Just shut up." Russia sighs, rubbing his temples.

"Make me Ruski boy!" America pouts, his slight double chin apparent with that expression.

"You little brat-"

Poland barely paid attention to the dumb conversation going on, his eyes zeroed in on a hyperventilating Germany. What was most alarming were the white veins slowly beating in and out just from under his skin.

Germany slowly looked up, his face splitting open into halves, cartilage bent and stretched where there shouldn't be any, an ink black tongue salivating right in the middle. Stretching slowly towards him.

Poland blinked again, only to see a trembling Germany again, his claws wrapped around his head.

He didn't dare stare another time.

Poland slowly walks in between the two arguing men, trying his best to suck up the fear seeping out of his pores. Germany looked afraid of him even being near.

"What are you doing..??" Germany whispered weakly.

"I need to help you first." Poland quietly responds.

Germany claws onto Poland's arm, his face squeezing into the smaller man's sweater, breathing in his stress sweat and sour odor from not bathing since he's entered his home. Not being able to leave his side for even a moment.

He didn't know why he wanted that. Germany felt like he would come undone if Poland left his sharp sight.
To not have him in his vicinity.

"How are we even going to do this?? I can't even go outside, they'll.." Germany's eyes shut tightly.

"I promise they'll understand. Russia, you alerted most of the countries at the meeting about Germany's situation right?" Poland smiles, unsure about his idea, but hopeful.

"Yeah?" Russia shrugs.

"We have to find out how this started, to see how we can make it end."

America pipes in. "Are you insinuating that we should see that old nazi roach fart?"

"Yes, unfortunately.." Poland sighs.

"FUCK no." Russia retorts. "You saw him last time! He blew his head off to try to escape, but we caught him anyway. You guys can go, but I'm not visiting that..deformed creature."

"We need you to come with us! You know the workers the best." Poland pushes Russia, a frown plastered on his face.

"..Fine. How are we going to bring Germany?" Russia sighs, his eyes narrowing into little slits.

America gasps, jumbling out his words . "I have an idea so crazy, it might just work guys!" He cackles, running out of the room, out of the house into the street.

Poland gives Russia an odd glance.

"Why is your boyfriend so weird?"

"HES NOT MY BOYFRIEND."

"He's so your boyfriend.." Germany whispers.

America comes back around 10 minutes later, with a bag full of carnival-grade face paint.

"You..are so retarded." Russia groans into his hands.

"Do you have any better ideas?" America smirks.

"No." Russia admits.

"Then let's get started."

Germany's face contorted into a frown as best as it could.

Chapter Text

"Mr. Reich?" a soft voice calls out from the end of a hallway, little wheels squeak from under a moving food cart. fluorescent lights flicker in and out, an assortment of dead bugs on the inside, stuck there since forever.

Latvia passes by old cells that line the walls, Ancient prisoners of past wars inside. Most of the iron locks were rarely even touched, the corresponding keys lost.

Arriving at her destination, she fumbles for the one key in her pocket, as this prisoner had barely any motor function.

She adjusts her crisp white uniform, clearing her throat. "Mr. Reich?? It's time for your feeding."

Latvia looks into the last cell, her nurse hat tilting off of her head slightly.

There on the inside of the cell sat a very grumpy Third Reich on his isopropyl alcohol drenched wheelchair. His one good eye was sunken in, his skull caved in to expose his thinly veiled brain. His jaw hung slack when he wasn't focused on holding it up, his tongue hung out as well out of the right side of his face. He frequently licked the unhealing holes that his teeth were in, one of the times being now.

"Again??? Fräulein, I don't need that much food, I'm not moving anywhere." a scratchy voice screeches through the silence.

"It's a requirement, sir."

"Requirement, my ARSCH!" Third Reich angrily sputters. "You just want to make sure I don't starve to death so I can have my sweet release! I know!!!" He rustles in his wheelchair, the armrests violently shake.

"It's a prisoner right, sir."

"Not familiar." Third Reich pouts the best he can with half his jaw left.

"..feed me now please."

Latvia unlocks the cell, pushing Third Reich's wheelchair to the side with her foot. The back of his wheelchair meets the wall, making him wince a little from the force.

She goes back to the cart, grabbing a bag of liquid food and a large feeding syringe, shaking it harshly before pouring it into said syringe.

"Fräulein?" Third Reich pipes up.

"What?" She says sharply.

"Why can't you just feed me real food?" He licks his thin lips.

"You can't have that, you know that."
Latvia sighs. This conversation has been made more than once. She is sure the old man just asks to get on her nerves.

"I remember having steak." He nibbles on his half of a lower lip, salivating. "Do you like steak?" Third Reich says way too nicely.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Can I not simply inquire?"

"I'd rather you not, sir."

"I loved it. Any type of meat, really." He stares at Latvia with his eye, roaming it over her.

She flicks the feeding syringe, plunging it into his mouth, quickly squeezing the contents out into his frozen mouth.

He swallows most of the pureé, before coughing a little bit out, ending up on the corner of his mouth.

"Ich Hasse dich, Schlampe." He hisses.

She rolls her eyes, grabbing a tissue from her cart, wrapping it around her finger to roughly wipe the mess on his face.

He expresses his dissatisfaction with drooling more on purpose.

Latvia finishes up, grabbing the rest of the food and dirty syringe to the cart, her hands moving quick in locking the cell door back up again.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Fräulein!" Third Reich yells.

"Visiting?? Why??" Lithuania asks, shocked. "There is no one worthy of visiting in this prison."

Poland, Russia, and America look at each other, only to look back at Lithuania. Russia leans an elbow onto Lithuania's reception desk, his face twisting into something that can only be described as the world's most intimidating grin.

Russia coughs, awkwardly covering his mouth to say his words.
"We need to see... Rei...."

Lithuania raises a trimmed brow, confusion spreading on her face. "Say again?"

"We need to..ch...?" Russia mumbles.

"Pardon?"

"WE NEED TO SEE THE NAZI!" Poland screams, quickly realizing he was acting awry, anxiously fixing his sweater.

Lithuania's eyes widened. "...Alright then."

A rather nervous Germany is behind him, his face plastered with the paint of his flag colors, making him look like a really bad children's clown.

"Who's that behind you?" Lithuania asks, quickly noticing the large mass.

"That? Just Germany." Poland shuffled awkwardly in front of her desk, trying to cover him, to little avail.
"Okay...just," Lithuania grabs an old cracked clipboard, blowing the dust off of it. "Sign here." She places a pen next to it.

Russia signs all of their names.

"Follow me." Lithuania gently smiles, leading the men into a waiting room, cobwebs lining the corners. Light grey chairs sat against the popcorn wall. "One moment, gentlemen." With that, Lithuania leaves them alone.

The men each take a chair, Poland next to Germany, Russia next to America.

"You better explain why this is worth it, Poland." Russia grumbles, his hat slipping onto his eyes, interrupting the death stare he was giving.

"Look, it only makes sense to ask Germany's father. He's known Reichtangle the longest right??" Poland clamps his hands together.

"If he knows the reason why Germany is being.. possessed? He could possibly know a way to release him." Poland unlinks his hands.

"What if he doesn't know? What then?" Russia huffs.

"What if the guy doesn't even wanna talk?!" America cries, his hands sprawling over Russia, earning him a push.

Germany broods in his too-tight chair. "He has no choice."

"That's the spirit!" Poland grins softly, poking Germany's rib, but only really feeling his love handles.
Germany sighs in response, slightly deflating.

"But really, the old creep can't do anything besides talk! I'm a little proud of myself!" Poland sits in his chair, his legs overlapping, shaking.

"You're nervous." Russia grunts.

"no? He's just a vegetable..what can he do?" Poland squeaks out, his left eye twitches.

"Don't worry potato boy, if he even TRIES anything.." America pats his chest, the rusty screwdriver snugly sitting in his breast pocket.

A very annoyed looking Lithuania comes back into the room. "Your visitor is ready."

Germany sinks behind Poland the best he can again. "Sheiße...."

America gets up, right behind Lithuania.

"So ah, ma'am, does he know we're coming?"

Lithuania tilts her head up to meet America's eyes. "Hm? Oh no, he knows someone wants to visit, but not your group in particular. He was too busy laughing at some stupid thing on his computer." She said as the group walks down the hall.
The rest get behind America, Germany right at the end.

They pass cell after cell, the men's faces all different expressions of disturbed.

"Here we are." Lithuania says, shaking the cell bars. "Mr. Reich! Here are your visitors."

"Youknow, IthinkIshouldgo-" Germany tries to slink away, sticking onto the wall, as far away from the cells possible.

"You are staying!" Russia growls.

"Who's staying?-" Third Reich rolls to the front of the cell, giving an eerie smile.

"Oh ...my Gott. Is that who I think it is??" His wheelchair squeaks as it shakes with Third Reich's weight.

"Oh fuck." Poland sucks in a breath.

"It's my little Polen and Russland...and is that my Sohn?? You've gotten bigger since the last time I've seen you!" He screeches out of the bars, his deformed face squished against the rusty poles.

"N-Nein!-" Germany rushes away from the cell bars, tripping into the floor and scrambling to his feet. America pulls him back, Germany's claws scratching at the floor.

Third Reich smiles, then glances at America.
"Oh. You too I guess."

"I hate you too."

"Why did they let a pig in here?" Third Reich rolls his one clouded eye, his mouth turned into a half frown.

"Why do they KEEP a pig in here??" America sticks his middle finger in the cell.

Poland clears his throat, trying to ignore the bickering. "I can't believe we're saying this but..we need your help."

"FINALLY! Look, no judgement, but you subcountries need my knowledge, It was only a matter of time." He laughs darkly.

"Not about that." Poland tries to hold back his disgust.

Germany shuffles in front of Poland, getting closer to the cell. "You know exactly what's wrong with me, Vater!"

Third Reich takes a moment to assess his son, his tall figure, his proper hands, even his beady glowing eyes....did it happen..?

"Oh Gott...it worked.. it's working!!" Third Reich giggles grow into cackles, his wheelchair shaking again.

Germany is creeped out, backing away from the cell again.
"What exactly did you do to your own son, you sicko!?" Russia grabs at the Third Reich's shirt collar through the cell, slamming his face into the bars.

"Nothing! It was just part of his birth, you know... Just like you!" He laughs, the slamming having no effect on his numb face. This greatly angered Russia. He began slamming Third Reich's face into the bars repeatedly, to no effect.

Poland gags from the gross squelching noises his face made when it met the metal, not bearing to look at it, hiding into Germany's chest.

Third Reich did get dizzy though. "Alright, Alright! I'll stop teasing you boys.." he says, disorientated.

"Don't call us that."

"No matter... You're still angry at me right?" Third Reich adjusts his hat.

"No shit, bitch." Russia curses, cleaning his fist.

"Is that any way to speak to your Stiefvater?"

Germany looked away in humiliation, wanting to just melt away from this place, wanting to forget the strange relationship that his father had with Russia's mother.

Their odd dates at his home, the gross noises that emitted from their bedroom at night, the awkward playdates the two countries set up for their children, not so much playdates than just leaving their children unattended at Germany's family manor. Being the strange amalgamation out of all the "siblings", all he really had was East Germany before-

America gently shakes Germany. "Hey, you good? You're spacing out again." He whispers.

Germany looks down at the cell again, Russia continues to yell at Third Reich. "No, he isn't even helping. We're just arguing, are we not?"

"You're right, bratwurst boy."

America moves Russia aside, still fuming. "Listen here you Nazi fuck. You're gonna help us with getting your son back to normal."

Third Reich's giggles cease, narrowing his eye. "Why?? He's better this way," he looks at his boy. "aren't you Sohn?"

Germany stares back. "You must be joking. I don't want to be my grandfather."

Third Reich looked confused, his fingers tapping the sides of his wheelchair. "Why not? You were weaker before. You should be thanking me, but you NEED to be so..so pathetic! I don't know where you get it from, honestly!"

"Maybe I get it from YOU." Germany yells, his face opening up slightly.

Third Reich smiled gently. "You look just like Vati...the paint is cracking, Mein Sohn. How many coats will you paint on before you accept your true fate? You're doing better than the rest of the family. They wouldn't visit me."

"I needed to! I would never willingly see you, you fucking monster!" Germany huffs, squeezing his claws into fists.

"Does it matter, you're here anyway." Third Reich smiles, rolling his wheelchair back from the cell bars, rolling into his desk.

"You know, I tried contacting you so much...you'd never answer my e-mails.." He pouts, almost sounding sad. "I knew you'd come to your Vati some day..."

"SHUT UP!" Germany's face splits, his sharp, open maw fully in view.

Poland's eyes widen, that sick feeling in his stomach returned.

"Just tell me how I can get rid of this?? Can't you do just one helpful thing in your fucking life???" Germany hisses.

Third Reich giggles quietly, still staring at his clunky computer, a hulking beast decades away from the modern devices.

"You're such a rude, rude boy. If you insist...but it isn't guaranteed that you'll return to your puny self, Mein Sohn."

"Just tell us!" Poland mutters, his hands shaking at his sides. What could have Third Reich possibly done to even accomplish planting essentially a ticking time bomb of a monstrous ancestor inside of his son?

"Fine...but make the pig leave." Third Reich shrinks away from America, still at Germany's side.

"Fuck you too then!"

America heads down the hall to find a vending machine somewhere.

"As I was saying... you'll never be the same as before." Third Reich smiles, a bit of a naughty twinkle in his eye. "Might as well stay like this. You look better in white and red, Deutschland."

"Don't Deutschland me!" Germany huffs, backing away from the cell.

"I won't tell you how, but I can tell you why. You'll figure it out yourself, Sohn, you're clever."

"Then say it, You nazi." Poland glares at Third Reich placing a finger on his crushed chin.

"It all started with a little idea of mine, I've always wanted a child to call my own..."

Germany knew what that was going to entail.

Chapter Text

The sun rose over a meadow of wildflowers, mountains tipped with ice laid in the background, a winding dirt path laid beside the meadow, the wind blowing carries the faint scent of strawberry bushes and pollen. Spring was here, and everything was blooming. A shining, black open roof car sped by, carrying a very ecstatic Third Reich with a bundle of materials in the back. on the dark leather seats laid a bag, its contents —a thermometer, glass beakers, milk, and countless vials.

Third Reich whistled to himself, both of his clawed hands on the steering wheel, the scenery zipping past the sides of his vision.

The dirt path's end pooled into the parking area (also made of dirt, with the addition of pebbles from the nearby creek) of one little home. It was very modest, a two story wooden house with a patio, small berry bushes grew in the front along with smaller patches of dark green grass that surrounded the entire area.

Third Reich quickly parked without much care, the car kicking up some loose dirt into the air. He then opens the driver's door, stretching himself over the driver's seat to grab the materials in the bag, hoisting them over his shoulder with a huff. He gets out of the car, heading towards the painted wooden door. Now, what he was planning wasn't very well known, but it was something Third Reich wanted oh so badly.

He wanted a perfect child to call his own. (To no one's surprise) no one wanted to get with the genuinely frightening son of Reichtangle and Austro-Hungary. Not only that, he wasn't the most...appealing looking country, getting nearly none of his mother's good looks, and quadruple of all the bad traits of his father, all packaged not-so-neatly in a skinny-fat package. This did grow resentment for others in him, but he figured that it wouldn't matter. He always got what he wanted, one way or another.

Once inside the home, he gently laid the bag on the coffee table right in the middle of the living room, the windows letting in pale sunlight, making the small table shine. Dark red couches with cream white throw pillows surrounded the walls, not that he would have much company, but because he liked decorating, much like his father.

Third Reich wiped some sweat accumulating on his forehead onto his black uniform, the thing already dirtied up from an..earlier job. He'd just have Soviet Union wash it for him, as she was his current "freundin" he would call her.

"Frau! Come here." he groans out, flopping over his couch's armrest, his long legs dangling over the edge.

"And just WHO do you think you are talking to that way?" A rather deep sounding woman's voice rings through the house. The soviet walks her way over to the living room from the kitchen, her eyes set on her smaller partner.

"You? Who else?" He looks around, his eyes narrowed. Third Reich wasn't the best in reading her tone with the fact that she always sounded intimidating to get her point across.

"What do you want?? I'm making something for my children." She mutters, wiping her hands on her apron that's wrapped around her waist over her own dark green uniform, fitting her pretty well given her large size.

Third Reich raises an arm to point at the bag resting on the coffee table, not bothering to lift his officer hat off of his face

"I need you to feed those vial things to the machine downstairs. I'll check it later.." he slurs, his eyes beginning to flutter closed as he prepares for a nap.

"Sure. You will do it next time, yes?" Soviet Union raises an eyebrow, the smaller man now knocked out.

"Useless." She sighs, grabbing the bag, heading down to the rather large basement. The only lights illuminating the place were small LED lights strung about on the wall flickering blue and red. Large cabinets that doubled as work stations were in rows of two. A basin that needed cleaning was built on one wall. The thing that was most obvious was the huge incubator that glowed a bright green right in the middle of everything.

The glass incubator was filled with a viscous liquid, a small and blurry figure was seen in the middle of the substance, tethered to the bottom of the machine.
The machine seemed to be pumping things into the inside, feeding the tiny figure with nutrients.

Soviet Union sighs, plopping the bag onto a station, rummaging for something. She sees that the vials are numbered, perhaps an order of importance? She grabs one of the beakers, unscrewing the small vials and pouring the contents by number.

Grabbing the beaker, she stirs the contents with her finger, walking up to the incubator, hearing the artificial heartbeat she swears she can hear emitting from it.

Looking for an entrance, she finds a small valve at the top of the machine, she grabs the stepping stool next to the machine, opening the valve slowly, pouring the beaker's content into the machine, making it glow harder, the color seemed to fluctuate between shades before returning to the bright neon green.

She inspects the various wires hooked up to it, seeing if any were in need of reconnection. Soviet Union knew what this project meant to Third Reich, but she had little interest for it. She figured that he could always do it the easy way with her, but he never inquired about it.

The small growth squirmed in the liquid, almost as if it were reacting to the shadow that Soviet Union casted onto the glass.

"There there, little thing, you'll be out soon." She tapped the glass with her well manicured finger.

It squirmed in response.

"You look just like your father." Soviet Union says dryly.

She grabs the milk from the bag as she comes up, leaving the rest.

Third Reich was still on the couch, however he was awake now, flipping through a magazine. "Finished already, schatz?"

"Yes. Is the water supposed to change color?"

Third Reich drops the magazine. "What."

"I said-"

"NO!!!" Third Reich screamed, jumping to his feet.

"YOU STUPID WOMAN," Third Reich runs up to Soviet Union, getting in her face, his face more red than his skin would normally be. "you have CONTAMINATED MY CHILD!" he hyperventilates, his clawed hands shaking at his sides.

Third Reich shoves her aside as he runs down to the basement, his hat is left behind on the living room floor.

He rushes down the creaky wooden stairs, nearly breaking his ankles with the speed.

The basement was calm, small beeps and bubbles popping were the only noises heard besides the nazi's heavy breathing, ragged with anger.

Third Reich quickly stumbles towards the incubator, his hands aimlessly wandering on the glass. "Oh gott...BitteNeinBitteNeinBitteNeinBitte..." he mutters in almost a mantra.

The incubator seemed fine. That was what worried Third Reich the most. Did the fetus absorb the new DNA sequence that easily? or was it still floating in the psuedo-amniotic solution? Third Reich contemplated taking the little fetus out to replace the fluid, but decided it would be too risky. "My poor kind..." he whispered. Having a child this way seemed like the easiest way to go about it for him. He grew furious, banging the glass.

Soviet Union met him down in the basement, her face stone-cold. "What is your problem?"

Third Reich growls, his face turning slowly to her, his sharp teeth are bared, visible by the green light emitting from the incubator.
"..If my child grows deformed, I'll kill you."

"You are threatening me for doing you a favor?" Soviet Union huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. "I dare you. You're barely something without me. Everyone hates you Reich."

"Shut up! That is irrelevant...You're ruining everything!!" he began to sob pathetically, falling to his shins.

"Look at you. You're being disgusting again." She lowers her ushanka to her eyes to avoid looking at her partner blabber like a child.

"No! NO!!" Third Reich runs to a station to pick up glass beakers and cylinders, throwing them at USSR. He misses multiple times, the glasses shattering on the concrete floor.

"GET OUT!!" he screams loudly as his face rips open, a trait of the German family tree.

"Talk to me when you calm down, my dear."

Third Reich throws a scale at Soviet Union as a response, missing his target once more.

Chapter Text

The whole incident with Soviet Union made Third Reich crack down on who exactly deals with the feeding of his child.

It went back down to one. With months of careful planning and watching, he grew his children, now two of them.

Third Reich noticed one day in his basement as the date of the extraction grew near. It looked as if two little babies were growing out from each other's backs, splitting into an uneven pair. There was the bigger one, he looked promising. Strong. the smaller one was frail, skinny.

"All her fault." growled Third Reich, his face twisting into a sour grimace.

Her DNA morphed some of the cells, splitting into two babies. One fully his, the other one a..mixed featured child, a large birthmark on his face.

The day arrived. Running down to the basement, Third Reich felt pure hatred for the unplanned child as it came out of the incubator. The twins take their first breath out of the amniotic fluid.

Cries pierced the air, the bigger one having strong lungs, it was only expected. Third Reich panicked, speeding to clean the children, making sure no liquid found its way into their mouths. "Damn this..." he grumbled, the gloves on his hand slippery with the majority of the liquid on their little bodies.

With no idea on how to even start cutting off their attached umbilical cords, he grabbed the nearest sharp object, a pair of scissors.

He slashed the umbilical cords off the twins, earning screams from the newborns. "There, there. You'll grow strong." Third Reich shakily whispered, his claws shaking with adrenaline.

Soviet Union joined Third Reich near the incubator, the twins now laying on a lab station table with a cotton cloth underneath them.

"Why didn't you call for me, dumbass?" Soviet Union quickly spat out.

"I didn't need your help," Third Reich hissed. "What I need you to do is get rid of this one." He pointed at the smaller twin, East Germany.

"Why? It's OUR child." She smirked, knowing well her point stood true.

"I don't need more than one. If I didn't know you didn't plan this, I'd kill you, bitch."

Soviet Union crossed her arms, unphased. "As if you could. We know what happened last time you tried to-"

Both countries were alerted by a hard knock at the front door.

They both went silent, their eyes staring into each other's.

"We know you're in there! Don't try to escape!" A British voice rang out. The door knob rustled harshly, followed by multiple kicks at the same time.

Soviet Union began to laugh.

Third Reich's breath picked up, his face growing pale. "What..? Why are you laughing??"

Soviet Union keeled over, her face contorted into cackles. "Oh!! This is too good!"

"What??? You're laughing and we're going to get killed!" He began to hyperventilate, his voice cracking under the pressure.

"No, No. You're the one who's going to get killed." Soviet Union wiped tears from her crinkled eye.

Her eye patch moved out of place, revealing her necrotic eye hole.

Third Reich's mind raced.

"You..you were in on this, weren't you??" He slowly backed away, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

"Of course I was! Who'd stay loyal to you? You're just an animal. Just like your father before he was killed. We'll do the same to you." She laughed, picking up the pair of bloody scissors.

Third Reich scrambled behind the incubator, tasting sour spit in his mouth. "Please..Schatz.."

Soviet Union walked by the incubator, circling the smaller man.

"Please what? Don't kill me? You've had it coming." She smiled, flashing her sharp yellow teeth.

"Stand down, and maybe I'll let you choose how you go out."

Third Reich's eyes flickered to the newborns, their bodies wriggling around, trying to find a warm body to latch on to.

The station they were on top of had plenty of cabinets.

Third Reich dashed towards the table, grabbing the children.

Flinging a cabinet open, finding a half filled revolver. With his free arm, he grabs hold of the shivering children by the larger one's leg.

Both heard the front door split, the rushing of boots filling the house.

Third Reich's face fell, leaving nothing but sweat inducing fear.

"Leave me alone! I-I had to do it..!" He gasped out, as if he was being choked.

He pointed the revolver first at Soviet Union, then to the children, then finally at himself.

"I refuse to give you sub-countries the satisfaction!" His claws wrapped tighter around the grip of the revolver.

Great Britain, America, and France ran down to the basement, their faces were serious than ever before.

"You drop it now, boy." Great Britain whispered sharply, a rifle in his hands.

With America behind the brit and France next to him, there was no way Third Reich could escape.

"Bastards, ALL OF YOU!" Third Reich screamed, his clawed hand shoved the revolver into his mouth, pulling the trigger. His eyes gravitated to Soviet Union, her smile taunting him torturously.

A blast rang throughout the basement, causing the children to scream, their little faces wet with tears, the bigger one pulling at the smaller one's limbs in fright.

Brain matter sprayed along the wall, red and white chunks of flesh ripped off. Large skull fragments slid down the wall, smaller pieces stuck with fresh blood.

Trickles of blood ran down Third Reich's face, thickening into streams, his arms weakened, the twins slipping out of his cold grip.

"Shit!" Soviet Union scrambled to grab the children, catching them before they slammed down from 6 feet onto the concrete floor.

She brushed off bloody bits off their faces, the smaller one's shivers calming down under the pressure of the embrace.

"Woah! Little Germanies..." America huffed, trying his best to ignore the crumpled body of Third Reich sliding down the wall, his one good eye now rolling into the remains of his skull. his arms still twitched, as if trying to get up.

Great Britain strode to Soviet Union, giving his attention to the children. "How peculiar." He hummed, adjusting his cap. "They seem to be connected by this...wall of skin."

France frowned, staring at the body of the children's father, seeing his rolling eye halting to a stop to stare right at her.

"We must leave this place." She mutters. "Someone grab him."

The rest of the allies look at Soviet Union.

"Fine. Grab these." She gives the children to Great Britain, his arms now full. The bigger one continued to wriggle, most likely hungry.

Soviet Union slung her boyfriend's body onto her shoulders.

She bends down to grab some brain, shoving it into his open skull cavity like a basket.

America clears his throat, awkwardly watching Soviet Union stroll past him, Third Reich's head leaving a trail of blood behind her. Her sheer size was ridiculous.

"Don't even say anything." France growls.

"Yes ma'am."

Chapter Text

With the twins...safe in the Central powers' hands, they were medically assessed by France, her eyebrows furrowing more and more as she realized just how odd they were.

The wall of skin looked thicker than it seemed, the tinier one almost sinking into the larger one's back

The bigger one would be called West Germany. Soviet Union happily named the other one East Germany.

The office seemed so full with Soviet Union in it crowding around the children.

"He's just the cutest thing, isn't he?" Soviet Union tickled East's tummy, quietly cooing at him.

Great Britain pushed himself off of the office wall. "Sure but, now these children don't have a-"

Soviet Union glared at the Brit. "I'm the mother of these children."

"No you aren't!" France mutters, sharply pointing her slender finger at her. "Infact, we don't know if these children are even legitimate countries!!"

America entered the office, his face stone cold, a rare sight for the Country that barely took anything serious. "Guys?" He quietly said.

France, Great Britain, and Soviet Union looked at him with confusion and a hint of irritation.

"What?" Great Britain muttered, his arms crossed.

"The Nazi," America whispered. "He's still alive." He looked like he saw a ghost.

"After all that?" Soviet Union grunted. She wasn't pleased one bit.
"He's so stubborn, the damn creature."

"Anywho...He kept begging to die, what should we do?" America piped up.

"Kill him." France mutters.

"Lock him up for eternity in the dungeons!" Great Britain sticks his finger up.

France glares at him. "With ah...minimal food and water...?"
Great Britain stammers out.

The babies stared at the American like he was food.

"Did you guys even FEED them yet??" America groans, slapping his face.

"Of course I did!" France retorts. She quickly picks up the children, who held onto her like their life depended on it.

"They loved the solution that was inside of the tank!" Soviet Union looked quite proud of herself. She must have come up with the idea, having given it to France prior to the trip to the office.

"Uhm..yes, that. The way you say it doesn't make it sound very appetizing." France scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Great Britain is right. We have to lock this guy up somewhere he can't escape." America sighed, looking antsy.

Soviet Union grinned. "I know where you can keep him."

"Where??" France whipped her head back. "Do you just have a dungeon laying around?"

"Something like that."

A incapacitated Third Reich was practically shipped in an ice chest to Soviet's prison, holding political rivals (who many of the countries thought of as dead) and many past evils. Meanwhile, The Central powers grouped up in the office of the prison to decide on the fate of the twins.

"God, who would want to live like that??" Great Britain huffed, crossing his leg over the other.

The central powers have yet to come to a conclusion.

"I wouldn't, that's for sure. I still think we should cut them apart." France grumbles, putting out her cigarette in the ash tray on the metal roundtable. Her eyes seemed clouded, eyelids darkened with pencil liner drooped over.

"I agree with the little woman. I want my son." Soviet Union grunted, her heavy boots laying on the table.

"How many children do you even have??" America yells, slamming his hands on the table, shaking the room.

Soviet Union rolled her eye. "Doesn't matter. I'd like to take my boy home."

"What about West Germany?" Great Britain muttered, raising a brow.

"We'll take him!" America grins. "The poor kid needs a good influence, like me!"

France and Great Britain look at each other with worry and regret.

Great Britain clears his throat, fixing his uniform collar.
"Look, I still believe the surgery is too risky, especially with newborns. These children might die! We must give them time to see if they're even compatible with life."

"But what if they become too intertwined?? They could develop too far to separate, what then?" France spits out, grabbing her lighter and firing up another cigarette.

America looked around, the gears turning in his head. "Where are the babies anyway?"

France looks up, eyeing America. "They're with Austria. He's their uncle, so..." She sucks up smoke.

Soviet Union glared at France. "You BITCH! Everyone knows he doesn't like his brother after all of this! What if he hurts the children???"

Great Britain stood up, pushing his chair back. "Be CIVIL! It was an emergency placement. You know France meant no offense."

"You should have consulted me about it! I could have taken care of them both!"

"Yeah, while we're visiting this prison? You're gonna bring two babies in your dungeon, weirdo?" America retorts, still standing.

"I know how to take care of them. I have watched them. I'm more qualified than any of you western pigs." Soviet Union gruffly said.

"Whore!" America yelled.

Thus Soviet Union lunged at America, her body propelling towards him so quickly he could barely register her hands wringing his neck.

"OKAY O-OKAY SORRY!!!" America fell backward, the Soviet straddling his ribcage and throttling him like a doll.

She gets up slowly, her hands the last part of her that releases America. "Don't ever call me that again." Soviet goes back to her seat, her boots back on the table.

He coughs, spitting out saliva.
"You started it anyway..."

"Just get up, boy." Great Britain strained, looking humiliated.

The children arrived at their uncle's house on that rainy afternoon, much to the older man's surprise, his wings flapped in shock.

"Was?!" Austria squawked, his arms
shot down the basket left on his porch. "The fucker had a baby..??"
Austria gently uncovers the children, seeing the twins. "Two??" He gasped, nearly dropping them.

Fortunately, he caught them tighter than before, earning trembling lips from the babies.

looking down, he finds a note in the fragrant basket.

"Sorry for the random delivery, will be back! -France"

Austria's eyes narrowed. Everyone knew he didn't like children. He didn't like people In general, keeping to himself.

His brother gave him a horrible time especially after their mother's death, so it gave him more reason to isolate, he thought to himself.

Austria was ashamed to carry the same blood.

The twins' little cries snapped him out of thought, reminding him of the present.
He quickly brings them into his home, a quaint little cottage with countless jars and boxes lining the brick walls.

"What to do with you children?"

Austria murmurs to himself, his wings flapping gently to dry his black feathers.

The fate of the children would be decided soon, unbeknownst to even the family left over.

Chapter Text

The decision has been made. The twins would be "partitioned."

West Germany will be under the care of France, Great Britain, and America...much to Soviet Union's chagrin.

East Germany would be taken care of by Soviet Union.

The complicated part was actually getting them apart.

The twins, now grown into little boys, were always talking. Today, they sat in a desk, drawing together.

"What are you making brother?" West Germany giggles at his brother's doodle of a very tall Austria.

"I'm making a portrait!" He tries to hold his head up high, proud of himself.

"Oh! I wish I were talented like you." West Germany responded, staring in awe at his brother's drawing.

Taught by their uncle Austria many things, including their native language, they exclusively spoke to each other.

They avoided the other children when they were sent to school, taught by Great Britain of course.

It was a small academy, intended for the children of the central powers.

It kept them busy while most of the parents tried to clean up the mess the axis powers left.

The fight wasn't over yet.

With two of the fuckers knocked out of battle, the last left was Imperial Japan.

Italy's father died long ago, pitifully surrendered and hanged without mercy, dragged through the streets by happy countries, cheering at the end of the regime.

Italy was a sensitive boy. Knowing how cruel his father was, he knew he deserved it.

He knew the fascist man would have done the same to his enemy.

So why did he cry?

Why did he sniffle and cry and run to the central powers when they discovered the poor boy in the well taken care of villa, eating weeks-old bread and overripe fruit?

"Traitor."

The thought of his father lingered his head, making little Italy tremble with fright.

He wasn't a traitor, he was doing the right thing; the only thing he could do.

That's how Italy ended up in Great Britain's little school.

Overhearing the conversation between the twins, he became intrigued.

"What are you drawing?" Italy smiled.

East and West Germany slowly turned their heads, looking shocked they were being spoken to.

"Ha?"

"Your drawing. What is it?" Italy quietly asked again, slightly nervous because of the two pairs of judging eyes on him.

"Our uncle." They said simultaneously.

Creepy, thought Italy.

"Is it true, about your father?" Italy quietly asked.

East Germany turned to look at his brother, who quietly shook his head.

"Ah, yea... He's still alive." He pouted his small glasses slipping off of his face.

Italy was quite nervous talking to one of his father's friend's sons.

It was so odd. Nowhere did he see some scary feature, if one didn't count their small, pointy teeth and little black wings on the boy's backs.

"...Where's your father now?" Italy murmurs, scared to ask.

The twins didn't know how to respond.

No one had a clue his father had been sneaking out, having "meetings" with Soviet Union.

He somehow did not hold a grudge against her, albeit 1/4 of his brain was gone, disappearing the "tough guy" front he'd put on. (which barely even worked in the first place.)

"So, what will we talk about today, Schatz?"Third licked his cracked lips, happily tapping his fingers on his wheelchair.

"Just about some news I've heard...you know I love you right?" Soviet Union tried her best to pout, her usually still face cracking.

Third Reich grinned, his sharp teeth in view.

"Oh, you're jealous, aren't you? Look, me helping America beat you in that silly space race of yours is just a pastime. You understand."

"Well, stop it," Soviet hissed, her arms moving to her back.

"It's more than enough trouble I have to take care of you. You're not helping me with the Westerners." Soviet Union grunted.

"Why should I?" Third Reich's eyes narrowed. "You refuse to love me in public!"

Soviet Union grabbed his medical gown's collar.

"You know damn well why I don't. I can't." She hissed out.

Third Reich giggles, his eye trying to concentrate on Soviet Union's face, ever so slightly cracked like an old porcelain doll.

"I see the stress is getting to you."

She roughly pushed him back into his wheelchair.

"I'm fine. I'm just sick."

Third Reich groaned quietly, still not used to the hardness of the wheelchair.

"Careful, bitte!"

Soviet Union steps away, breathing harshly.

"I'm not going to get better. Tell this to anyone and I'll finish you off."

Third Reich huffed. "Not that I can. I can't talk to the other prisoners, remember??"

Soviet Union grinned. "Yeah, you can't."

They laughed together for a while.

Chapter Text

"Let's play together tomorrow!" Italy grinned, his buck teeth in view from under his thin lips.

"Mhm, bye!" East and West Germany smile back, saying goodbye to their new friend.

"Goodbye!" East Germany responds as well, turning his head as the two walked away.

Walking down the small hallway, their shoes made small clicks on the wooden floor. East Germany was fascinated by the floor while West Germany eagerly glanced at the door at the end.

The two would head down a grassy path to Austria's house after school.

Once they arrived, they would eat a small lunch of cheese and toast with milk. After, they played in the relatively small house, most specifically with puzzles. The two had a vast collection of hand-made puzzles that they made together, East Germany giving most of the ideas.

They loved puzzles so very much.

Austria, not so much. He did not like picking up the impossibly small pieces the twins left scattered on the floor.

"Unordentliche!" His yell would echo through the house. using the ends of his large wings, he quickly swept the floor.

The twins hid in the pantry, watching their uncle sweep up their game into the trash can, earning gasps from the two.

They both squealed, running out of the pantry towards their game pieces.

"No, no please!" West Germany wailed.

"We need those!" East Germany joined his brother's screams.

"Then keep them in their box. If you want to keep something, have it somewhere safe." Austria grunted.

The two boys nodded quickly before their attention was taken by a soft knock at the door.

"One moment, boys." Austria sighed, taking his hands off of his knees to go answer.

At the door was a very cranky looking Soviet Union and the central powers; very timid looking besides the huge woman.

Austria looked dead on, glaring at the group.

"What is this reunion on my porch?"

France and Great Britain cleared their throats, nervous to speak. America opened his mouth to speak before being pushed to the side by Soviet Union.

"We are here for the children. We have warned you, yes?"

"Warned?" Austria raised an eyebrow, his grip tightening on the door handle.

"She means reminded!!!" France squeaks.

Austria rolled his eyes, too annoyed by the sudden intrusion to even register that the children were to be taken today.

"Okay, reminded about what???"

Austria groans, slowly slinking back into the house. The children grew curious as no one ever visits their uncle unless it's for mail or party invitations from the neighbors...who somehow haven't lost hope of their neighbor/brother to grow more social.

The German twins run up their uncle, gently grabbing hold of his pants leg.

Soviet Union's eyes lit up, her smile widening. "Hello there!"

America gave a strong wave at the small countries.

Great Britain and France both gave (not so) assuring nods to the children, confusing them.

The twins looked up to the group, exchanging fearful glances, but recognizing Great Britain, and a little bit of France, seeing her roam the hallways of Great Britain's little academy sometimes.

Austria sighed. He knew this day would come. He tried to bury it deep inside him, forgetting that this fairytale of a real family would come to an end.

Austria didn't want his brother's children originally.

He feared they'd be just like his brother, feeding off of him like parasites.

"Alright Kinder, take your things." Austria said, his voice sounding defeated.

The twins looked confused.

"Why?" West Germany asked quickly.

"Ja, why??" East Germany pouted, not understanding why they had to go.

Austria glared at the twins.

"I don't like repeating myself. Pack your clothes. You're leaving with these people."

The central powers looked at each other like they just witnessed Austria slapping the boys in the face.

"Hey man, you can still see them...sorta." America muttered.

Austria whipped his head back.

"Take the brats and leave me alone."

America felt a shiver go down his back. How could this man give up his nephews that easily?

"Come along children." France quietly muttered, gesturing her slender hands to her side.

East and West Germany stayed by their uncle's side, brought to tears by the sudden intrusion of their quiet home.

"Please don't take us..." East Germany whined, his face buried in his brother's chest.

"We'll be good! W-We'll pick up our puzzles, promise!" West Germany cried, his chubby cheeks wet with tears.

Austria looked down at the two. "This is out of my control, Kinder." He says coldly, gently pushing the children off of him.

He heads to their room, sucking in his teeth, realizing the boys would be too busy crying to pick up their things.

The central powers stared at the shivering boys, almost as if to study them. This was the product of that monster? A quivering pair of malformed little babies?

Great Britain steps up. "We'll take good care of you. We just need to see if you'll be alright in the future. We're friendly, honest." He kneels down at their eye height, small alternating sniffles emitted from the two.

East Germany looked paler than his brother, nearly at the point of hyperventilating at the sight of Soviet Union.

"I'm your real mother. It's so nice to finally meet you." Soviet Union grinned as softly as she could, reaching her hand out for East's head.

West Germany warily watched the large woman pet his small brother. He didn't like that woman already. Mother? was that his mother too? No, he can barely even register a feature of hers on him. She was too comfortable showing affection to his brother. Something is wrong.

"We need to take care of you from now on. You boys will understand why soon....your uncle explained about your father, no?" France gently muttered, her arms crossed across her chest.

East Germany was busy being pet by Soviet Union, actually growing an awkward grin on his face, although still slightly frightened.

West Germany shook his head, his thick frames slipping from drying tears. "A-A little..Onkel says we are too little to know all of it."

America raised a brow. "So, what part did he tell you boys?" He grunted, slightly confused as to what part Austria thought was appropriate to tell little children.

East Germany pouted. "He told us our papa was bad. Super bad."

"Yeah! And..and he said that he escaped somewhere, so that's why we had to stay with him!" West Germany adds on, happy to possibly talk more about their mysterious father.

"Escaped?" America moved forward, leaning towards the twins. "No, We captured him."

Great Britain pushed his son to the side. "What he means is-"

"We caught him like the beast he was! That guy was a monster! Brutally killing those smaller than him and eating the flesh straight off the corpses for power, just like his father before him. BUT WE CAUGHT HIM!" America cheers.

East and West Germany looked scared. Like shit-your-pants-because-you're-
related-to-a-sadistic-cannibal-scared.

Great Britain fumed in silent anger. "America, don't frighten the children any more."

They looked frozen in shock. The twins knew their father was bad, but not this bad.

Soviet Union stared down at the children, mostly East Germany. "It's okay, you still have me." She tried to act tender, coming off as creepy more than anything.

Before France could berate America, Austria came back with two small suitcases. "Your puzzles are in your respective bags, Kinder," Austria quietly mutters. "Take care of them well." He eyes the central powers as he talks to the boys.

"Onkel!" They simultaneously wail, running to their uncle quickly, hugging him tighter than ever before. He has always been there in their memory, The thought of not being there to annoy their uncle was unfathomable for the two.

"Come visit please!!!" East Germany wailed, snot ran down his little face. West Germany buried his face into their uncle's pants again.

Soviet Union huffed. She knew her child wouldn't immediately run to her, sensing the familial link, but it irritated her.

"Come along. We have things to discuss with you two." She stated.

France and Great Britain awkwardly took their little bags, America coming to the side of the twins.

"We'll make sure you'll be okay. You'll see your uncle again, I swear." America awkwardly smiles.

The walk to Great Britain's buggy was weird. Being in your teacher's car was an odd experience, add in the fact that three randoms were crammed in the small car. Great Britain took the wheel, while America sat in the front.

France had the unfortunate fate of being mushed into the window by Soviet Union. The twins took the other window seat, giving them a reason to stare outside.

East and West Germany sat in silence before America took note.

"Hey kids, you guys like candy right? I have some Tootsie rolls!" The fat man took out a little wrinkled pieces of candy.

East and West Germany eagerly nodded while still holding their silence, holding out their hands.

"Shouldn't you put a seat belt on the children?" Soviet Union grunted, squeezed between the children and the scrawny Frenchwoman.

The rural road was quite bumpy, berry bushes and dogwood trees passed by. Some stray branches of the overgrown trees scratched at the windows of the buggy, earning a quiet squeal from America.

"Ah, they'll be fine! It's not like they'll fly out through the window. You can't fly right, little lads?" Great Britain laughed.

East Germany pouted, prompting his brother West Germany to respond.

"We are too heavy." He says, copying his brother's face.

France gave hard glares at Great Britain. It was quite hard to be intimidating when one was being squished against a car door by a fat woman. "Should we tell them now?" she grunted.

"Oh ...yes, yes." Great Britain's tone took a more solemn direction, the buggy quickening as they approached a more modern highway.

"Children, we have to explain some things coming up for you." Great Britain muttered, one hand on the steering wheel.

East and West Germany stared in front, their mouths clamped shut due to how hard it was to chew the tootsie rolls.

"Your father, only planned for one of you. Soviet Union here made the other. At the time, we're trying to ah...let's say, capture your father." He looks at America, pleading with him to take over.

America slowly but surely took the hint.

"Yeah...we caught him, but it wasn't easy. You two were there as well," groaned America, closing his eyes only to see the haunting image of a limp Third Reich that slid down the wall in his own blood and brain matter.

"He held you boys essentially as hostages before turning his gun onto himself, so he doesn't look exactly like a regular country..." He quietly whispered the end, his eyes strained shut.

This planted a seed in the boy's minds. Asking questions was only natural.

"But who's my brother's mutti?" East Germany whined, feeling sad for his larger brother.

"We're not sure about that yet, no one knows how he created your brother without a woman." France sighed, staring at the Soviet Union as if she'll spill all the needed answers.

"As for you," France turned her head to East Germany.

"Soviet Union is your biological mother." France's eyes gently laid onto the smaller twin's little face.

"How do you know?" East Germany pouted, wanting sweet and rare assurance.

Soviet Union smiles. "That little symbol on your face, do you wonder why your brother doesn't have one? It's because it's from outside DNA. Me."

East germany looks at his brother's confused expression, wondering if it meant they weren't as close. No, no. This wouldn't change anything, thought the little East.

"Does that mean we will stay with you?" East Germany asked meekly, holding his brother's hand.

Great Britain looked at the car's mirror. "One of you will."

The twins looked horrified.

Chapter Text

A very little Italy approached the front of the school house, usually bustling with activity of the many Soviet children and an anxious Great Britain, but to his surprise, no one seemed to be here.

Odd, thought Italy.

He turns to go to the back of the schoolhouse—a bunker. Italy had been staying there, a small room with everything a little country would need.

Meanwhile...
Great Britain, along with France and Soviet Union. They surrounded the small boys laid out on a medical table.

Small incision lines were drawn across their backs, their little wings were wrapped up in bandages to avoid getting cut.

Soviet Union quickly made the first incision with a sharp scalpel. Dark red blood sprang forth. America forcefully cuts the excess back skin. Then-

"Wait, how do YOU know this part of the story???" Germany's dot eyes narrowed.

Poland nodded, confused as to why Third Reich even knew the details of his son's detachment surgery. "Exactly! Weren't you here the whole time??"

Third Reich laughed quietly, gurgling coming from behind his throat.
"I thought it was obvious! Soviet told me. She would sneak me out so we could have our little dates. I’m surprised that you two don’t remember this clearly, especially you my dear Sohn."

Germany had a visceral reaction, shaking his head hard. Memories flooded back again. His brother gently hugged him as best as he could, considering the surgery weakened him ever so much. He whispered that they would be back with Austria soon.

That they were loved even if they were away from their dear Onkel.

He backed away from the cell, holding his hands in front of him as to shield his body. Russia carefully watched Third’s face to see how he would react.

The old man just laughed.

"What, can't handle your father getting the affection he rightfully deserves?"

"You are forgetting your disgusting place, Vater!" Germany spat out, covering his sharp mouth with lengthening claws.

Poland quickly patted Germany's shaking back . "Hey, do you want some water? I'll go find America-"

Germany scoffed. “Think Polen, what will WATER do for me??”

Russia grabbed Poland out of the way, growing angry.

“He is just trying to be helpful, stop falling for your father’s words! Can’t you see he’s trying to get you mad?”

Germany let out ragged breaths, as he had trouble controlling his rapid lung movement.

“This…This is true. You’re trying to make me change further. We should have never come here.”

Third Reich smiled boldly, happy to see his son’s extending claws.

“you'll be perfect..!” he exclaimed in a sing-song tone.
Poland stayed at Russia’s side, growing increasingly worried for Germany’s physical state. He’s growing unstable, he can sense it. What will they do now??

Germany shook his head violently and ran down the hall.

Poland whipped his head in the direction of his friend. “Niemcy WAIT!!”

Pushing Russia’s firm grip from his shoulder, Poland bolted down the hall as well.

Germany heard the rapid steps behind him, growing irritated. “Don’t follow me.. STOP!” he grabbed his own head, trying to blink away the horrible feeling of satisfaction he was developing for making his friend stress out.

He wanted to make Poland scream and wail for him. To make him cry in pain under him as his claws dug into his skin.

Poland only pushed his legs further, his calves burning. How long was this damn hall???

Germany made a turn, only to see America talking with a very interested Estonia.

"Yeah, and that's how I basically saved Europe." America chuckled, winking an eye at Estonia. He took a sip from a bright green drink. She giggled in response.

Germany snapped out of his growing insanity to question what the hell America was doing.

"Are you trying to pick up Estonia NOW??" Germany screeched, clawing at himself.

Estonia noticed Germany's cracking face, revealing that old monster.

"Reichtangle.." she whispered. She quickly ran behind America, her eyes widened with awe and fear.

America whipped his head back. "N-No buddy! First of-....you're looking worse than before." He said quieter.

America pushed Estonia behind him further, making her fall to the ground. "Sorry sweetie-!"

Estonia scrambled up, running to tell her sisters.

"No, no...no, no! You know it's me!!Germany spat out. "We should have never..I should have never come here," Germany whined, squeezing his glowing eyes shut.

"I should have stayed inside...now I'm going to be lost in my own body forever." His head drooped down, pushing past America, going further out of the prison.

America took chase as well, now noticing Poland not too far behind him.

"Y-You too??" America yelled, grabbing his screwdriver from his breast pocket.

Poland was too exasperated to answer, only with a quick nod.

Germany was faced with a corridor leading left or right. He could hear the nervous chattering of the Baltic sisters on the left.

"Monster.....Germany no more!"
Is all he could make out. He took a hard right, hot and stinging tears sprang from his eyes.

He saw the exit. Jumping forward, he made it. Running past fences, bushes, and the Soviet family graveyard, he was finally free.

The sun was nowhere to be found, the wind howled against the prison, making the loose barbwire on top of the fence and roof sway with the force.

Where would he go anyway???

The light grey sky lit his way, overcast. The forest looked dark in comparison.

Germany had little time to think about it, America and Poland were right behind him.

Poland screamed for his friend. "Niemcy, please!! Let us help you! You must stay with us!"

America turned back and forcefully took Poland in his arms, sliding his screwdriver into his pants pocket and slinging him onto his back. "You're too slow potato boy, come on!"

Poland cried out, holding onto America's shoulders for dear life. For his huge size, he was quick on his feet.

Germany threw himself into some strawberry bushes, trying to contain his gasping. He watched the two fumble around the forest, peering into random shrubs and behind broken boulders.

America swiveled his head around, his eyes scanning the wooded area.

"Where the hell....how did he disappear?!?" He roared, mostly out of frustration. He was a good tracker, dammit!

Poland sighed, flapping his wings hard, trying to take flight with America. "C-Come on!"

America, slowly but surely, took off of the ground, his feet starting to look small.

"Good thinking, potato boy!" America fisted the air, laughing triumphantly.

Poland struggled with the weight, but got used to it, surveying the growing area for Germany's new distinct form.

Now in the harsh breeze of the high air, America and Poland watched the ground below. Seeing expansive greenery, America gasped, pointing at a mangled bush.

Surely enough, Germany laid in the bush, his huge body stuck out. The only thing really hiding was his head.

Poland dived onto Germany quickly, accelerated by America's weight.

"NiemcyyyYYYY!!" Poland screamed, tackling Germany down with America's strength.

"SHEIẞE!!!" Germany cried, getting ripped from the strawberry bush.

"NEIN!" Germany wailed, pushing himself back into the bush.

Being pulled into a rolling pile, Poland retracted his wings, grabbing at any part of Germany while America latched onto Germany's back.

"Poland, grab his feet!" America forcefully grabbed the bush in half, pulling Germany out by his head.

Poland quickly grabbed Germany's ankles, earning loud screams from the German.

Germany wailed incoherently and most importantly, louder.

Russia looked around, his step sisters crowding around him.

"Russia, why didn't you tell us about your creepy friend?!" Latvia huffed.

"Yes, remember what Mother said about the west one??" Lithuania angrily sputters.

Estonia glared at Russia. "All you bring is trouble, get out!"

Russia glared at the three sisters. "I needed to do this, you don't understand my reasons!"

Third Reich only watched, nibbling the remnants of his lips in anticipation. He loved conflict of any kind, as he considered it peak entertainment.

Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia glared back at Russia, then back at each other and nodded.

Russia was kicked out of the prison, the entrance slammed shut. Estonia and her sisters grinned happily behind the thick glass pane.

"WATCH WHEN WE GET HOME!" Russia screamed, holding onto the ushanka on his head. He dusted himself off, scoffing harshly.

Russia turned around, seeing the vast forest. The freshly cut grass smelled strong. One bush struggled to stay up due to a fighting pile of- wait. Fighting pile??? That wasn't very normal to see in the forest.

Russia stood up quickly, watching Poland and America pin a very angry Germany down onto the ground, his large muscular legs flailing around aimlessly as Poland struggled to hold his ankles together.

America held such a vice-like grip on Germany's head, Russia almost felt bad. The corn-fed American had impressive grip strength.

"HALT, HALT!!!" Germany screamed, clawing at America's forearm. He took the hint, dropping his head to only sit on Germany's chest.

Germany whined quietly, the breath knocked out of him.

"GET OFF FETTARSCH!" he managed to squeal.

Russia raced to get to Poland's side, holding his legs down.

Poland fluttered to Germany's left side, assessing his splitting face. It was genuinely horrifying. The jagged edges of his mouth gleamed in saliva.

Germany didn't seem aware of this, as he was too busy trying to catch his breath as America was still on top of him.

"What now, Polen??" He squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed to be seen like this.

"We need to take you to the hospital. There you can rest while we observe your condition. Please..!" Poland pleaded, grabbing Germany's clawed hand.

Germany looked at him in shock, as if Poland just asked him to kill him in front of everyone they knew.

Russia and America looked at each other, still wondering if it was time.

"I try my best, I-I really do. If I'm not useful, what am I..Just this? They'll throw me away. They don't really like me," Germany choked back a broken sob. Small tears slid from his eyes. He squeezed around Poland's smaller hand ever so softly.

"..You know this, don't you Polen?"
Germany whispered. Poland shook his head strongly.

"I like you. Don't ever believe that I don't." Poland held his hand stronger than before, getting on his knees.

"We love you buddy!! What the hell are you talking about??" America butted in, sliding off of Germany's broad chest. Russia stared at Germany.

He's never seen him cry. Only heard. Two little sobs hidden away in the German family manor, or tiny whimpers and sniffles emanating from the twins after punishment from Soviet Union. Small red and swollen eyes, endlessly droopy from countless tears.

Germany sniffled, trying his best not to break into a million little pieces.

"I don't feel it. Not one bit. I'm only a wallet."

Russia rolled his eyes. "Both can be true at once. Sure, you're rich. But you're more than that. You're smart! And you...you know. You're not your dad. You make cool cars, and you make awesome beer." Russia rubbed Germany's knee.

But he might be his grandfather,
Russia thought to himself.

Germany laid his head back into the grass, sighing shakily.

"I-I suppose. I don't know why I freaked out like that..my apologies."

Poland gently fanned Germany with his left wing. "How about we sit here for a while then? It might be good for you."

"You're such a mother to him!" America chuckled.

Poland grimaced. "Shut up fatass. I'm only taking care of my friend."

Russia and America slowly let go of Germany, letting him move around more.

"There, now you don't have to freak out anymore." America smiled. "You have mommy Poland with you, okay?" He turned around to meet Russia as he walked to a further bush.

Poland grabbed a pinecone from the ground and threw it at America's head.

He heard a quiet ouch. That was satisfying, thought Poland.

Germany huffed. He could admit, Poland had a calming effect for him right now. He still didn't know why. Subconscious reasons?

Germany had other thoughts, but didn't want to voice them. His friends would have killed him right then and there. Not today.