A/N: This chapter has all the warnings, including mentions of the Holocaust.
Also listen to the theme from Schindlers list for more feelings
Gil stood in the doorway, frozen. He couldn't take his eyes away from the thin, small, blond country pressed into the corner of the room. Poland's arms were bound from wrists to elbows in black chord. Loose pants were his only clothing, and they were caked with blood. Gil could see his spine poking through his back, his ribs clearly seen through his skin. He was shaking, his hands over his face as he turned away from the door. His blond hair, just brushing his shoulders, was dirty and matted.
"Please..." Poland whimpered, not looking up at Gil. "Please... don't hurt me again... I don't have any names... please..." he sobbed trying to press himself further into the stone wall.
"Feliks..." GDR took a step forward, then stopped. Poland brought his head up suddenly, looking into Gil's face with absolute terror in his big green eyes.
Poland shook with fear, staring up at Gil, holding up his arms slowly, turning his face away, trembling. "Please... Please..."
Gil watched, hiding his shaking hands in his pockets. He looked at Poland's body. It was covered in scars and fresh wounds. He turned away. He couldn't look at him. "I... I'm not..." Gil bit his lip, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to speak, "I'm not going to hurt you..."
"Liet said you would..." Poland's voice was shaky, almost a whisper.
"I won't." Gil shook his head, trying to get closer to him.
"NO! PLEASE!" Poland kicked at him, trying to press himself into the wall, covering his face.
"Ok," Gil held up his hands, "Ok." Gil took a step back.
Poland pulled his arms away from his face slowly, looking up at Gil. "Did Russia send you to kill me?"
Gil shuddered, Poland's voice was hopeful. "Nein."
Poland looked away, resting his head on the wall, letting his arms rest against his legs, carefully.
Gil closed his eyes with another shudder, swallowing hard as he saw Poland's arms more clearly. He wasn't tied with cord. He was tied with barbed wire. Gil felt sick. He looked back at Poland, who struggled to find a more comfortable position against the stone. "Can..." Gil stopped, wondering if he should continue. He looked into Poland's face as the blond looked up at him, trembling. "Can I at least take those off of you?" He nodded to the barbed wire that dug into Poland's arms.
Poland shook his head, pulling away. "No... No, you'll have to get too close..." he pressed further into the stone.
"All right. I won't... if you're sure."
Poland nodded, shaking, "W... what are you... why are you here?" Poland looked up at him.
Gil turned away. He couldn't look at Poland's eyes. "Russia... sent me." Gil breathed harder, trying to force down a catch of panic in his throat. "He wants me to get... names..." He bit his lip, looking back at Poland.
Poland rested his head on the wall again, shaking it, his voice breaking, "I don't know any... I don't have any... please... please tell him I don't know..."
"I don't know if he'll believe me..."
Poland looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks, "Then hurt me. Please... please if it'll make him stop..." Poland turned away, bringing his arms up to his face, resting his hands on his forehead, his elbows on his knees, his thin frame shaking with sobs.
Prussia took a step closer. "Feliks..."
Poland trembled more, shaking with terror as Gil stepped closer still. He breathed hard, gasping with sobs, trying not to panic.
