The Winter At Berlin [Hetalia]

Silence

How nice... Gilbert thought sarcastically as he glared at the Russian man sitting stiffly across from him. How 'nice' of Ivan to trap me in a shit hole away from my family and friends. He sure is a 'nice' fucking guy. 

He grit his teeth at the thought of how all-too-perfectly Ivan's plan was going. Europe was divided, and Ivan was playing a rigged game of Russian Roulette with the Eastern Bloc while America continued to precariously stack one nuclear missile on top of another.  Ivan could bend rules this way and that simply because he knew Alfred wouldn't interfere with Europe; if he did, that would mean World War Three--and no one wanted that. 

"Comrade," Ivan cooed in his usual, calm tone. "thank you for coming to discuss the border problems~."

"What border problems?! And coming here wasn't a choice, you fucking idiot." Gilbert spat. Russia replied with a sharp slap across the German's pale face. 

"Do not speak as if you've had "freedom" before. You are lucky to be alive after this partition of Germany, and the East is mine. You are mine, дурачка~." Ivan smiled. "Still, you are much better off with me anyway. East Germany has been liberated by a classless society~! If anything, I have been the one who has granted you freedom itself, comrade." His purple aura glowed with the same anger it always had when the Russian was explaining something to someone he loathed, but Prussia was surprised to notice that Ivan's purple eyes looked more worried that eerily kind as usual. 

That's when Gilbert found it. A hole in Ivan's morale. A small doubt in Ivan's mind. 

And Gilbert was never one to underestimate the power of a shred of doubt--something he learned at Grunwald years back. 

He smirked. "You know you are losing, don't you?" Gilbert said, slowly standing from the blue plastic chair he had been sitting in. 

"I can end the world with a single command--if you call that losing then you must have never truly lost before." He answered, looking as if it was a struggle to avoid hitting Gilbert again. "You are the loser. America's help will never be enough once the wall is fully constructed." Ivan continued, "You will be trapped soon enough, comrade~. And do not think for a second that I will ever let you go." 

"You son of a bitch." 

Gilbert hated Russia, but there was nothing he could do. For once, the awesome Prussia was helpless. Even if Gilbert screamed for help right before America and England's eyes, it would be treated as silence. 

translations:  дурачка ("durachka") - idiot/fool ['cute' form].