Forever | Countryhumans AU | RusAme/AmeRus

26

"I killed your father." Poland blurted out.

The room was stunned into shocked silence. "What?" Russia let slip.

"I killed Third Reich." Poland admitted. "I'm so sorry Niemcy, I understand he's... he was your last living biological family member."

"I..." Germany stuttered, before pulling himself back together. "No. It's alright. He should've died a long time ago. He should've died after the second world war. He deserves to die for all the crimes he did."

"How did it happen?" Canada asked. "When I escaped the building, he caught me and he commanded me to get back into the building. I said no, and he was going to shoot me. So I managed to disarm him. I didn't have to shoot him but he said I wouldn't dare to and I was just... I shot him, just to show him that I had the guts to.

"I shouldn't have shot him. I didn't have to. I'm sorry," Poland apologised to Germany. "Not that my words can save him. But I'm sorry for killing your father."

"So he died immediately?" Ukraine queried cautiously. "No, I... I shot him in his throat and left him to bleed out." Poland replied guiltily. "I told him to reflect on all the shit he had ever done. He said he was going to backstab Soviet too."

"I hope he actually thought about all the shit he did." Germany stated, his face hardening. "He may have been my father but he didn't have to start the war. Because of him, my brother and I were separated."

Germany sighed. "I need some time alone. I'll head out for a bit."

"Okay, Germany. Be careful." America said.

Germany grabbed his coat and left, the door swinging shut softly behind him.

"He said it was alright that I killed his father and that his father deserved it, but I still feel really bad," was the last thing Germany heard from Poland before he drove off in the direction of his childhood home, allowing his mask to slip.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Canada asked. Russia exchanged a glance with Poland, the two being the only people that knew Germany well in the group. "He's strong, I believe in him." Russia finally muttered.

Germany arrived at the house his father had previously occupied. All of its rightful owners had passed. Except him. It was now his. He didn't know how to react to this, so he unlocked the door and went in. He had always hated his father, but his death had come as a shock.

He wondered if his father had died quickly with minimal pain, but then shook his head and scowled at his reflection on the windows in the living room. My father is a monster. He argued. He hurt the people close to me. He doesn't deserve my pity.

He walked deeper into the house, absentmindedly wandering into the room he and his brother shared before they were separated and before his brother died. All of the surfaces were clean and everything was in its place.

"Why, Vater?" Germany said to the empty room. "What was it that made you change? Why did you bother to clean our room and our picture frames? Your actions affected me and Bruder. If you truly cared for us, why did you start the war?"

He stayed in the room for a minute before moving to his father's study. On the table was a leather bound notebook and a couple of pens in a penholder. Out of curiosity, the German picked it up and opened it.

It seemed like a diary of some sort, and he flipped to the latest entry. It was dated the day before.

"I miss my son. I'm fracturing, and I hope to see him soon before I die. I knew that when the state Nazi Germany fell I would soon be dead too. I never expected I'd live this long. I thought that maybe once the leader of the state of Nazi Germany died my sociopathic urges would go too.

"It's still very much here, and it won't go away. It's growing stronger everyday. I wonder if I should just take my life so I'd stop causing so much harm in this world.

"Would I go to hell when I die, if it exists? Wherever I go, I want to hold on and wait until I get the chance to explain to my son that I'm not strong enough not to bend to the will of the thoughts that aren't my own. He's a good son, a good person, and I'm sorry that what I did caused him and his brother to be separated. I know how much he loves his twin.

"Being at home gives me a bit more power over the sociopathic thoughts, but I'm not sure how long it'll last. I hope he comes home soon. I predict I have less than six months left before I either fracture fully or succumb to the thoughts. I know he hates me though, so would he forgive me?"

That was all Germany needed to get the closure he didn't know he needed. He set the diary back down onto the table. "I forgive you." He said aloud. "Thank you for writing this all down. I hope you find some sort of peace."

He picked the diary up again and took the family photo sitting in the living room before he left for his own place again. As he stepped out of the house, he felt lighter, the burden of hate having been lifted off his shoulders.

When he reached back to his apartment, he hung his coat onto the coat rack and walked across the room determinedly towards Poland. "Germany?" America asked worriedly.

Germany ignored him and threw himself into Poland's arm, almost knocking the Pole over, being taller than his counterpart. It caught Poland off guard, but he hugged back anyway.

"Thank you. Thank you for putting my father out of his misery." Germany choked, his words turning into sobs. He hugged tighter, letting his hug convey what he couldn't at the moment.

He pulled away from their shared embrace when he realised that his tears were soaking his boyfriend's clothes, but Poland hugged him back softly before letting him go.

America coughed softly to get their attention. "Sorry to spoil the moment, but what do you mean?"

Germany passed him his father's diary, careful not to smudge anything with his tears.

"Read the last entry."

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