I know this is not my normal day for posting anything, but there is a reason that I chose today. Today is International Holocaust Rememberance Day. I got the inspiration for this fic a couple of years back, but I did not when, if ever, I would post it. When I learned of today, I decided now would be a good time. I hope I do not offend anyone with this story, make anyone angry, or cause anyone pain. That was not my intent. This is a simple memorial in rememberance of a very important, tragic point in history. I wrote this story to the song Lucy by Skillet, so, if you like music to go with your fanfiction, I would very much recommend that song. With that said, please, enjoy.

The pristine white snow on the ground crunched softly under Germany's brown leather boots as he slowly made his way through the cemetery. His ice-blue eyes drifted about, taking in the various names on the graves around him, then finally paused as they found the one he had come to visit. Like many of the graves around it, rather than a cross, a Star of David was displayed, marking the person buried there to have been a person of the Jewish faith. As Germany approached the grave, he drew a small bouquet of roses from behind his back, kneeling silently in the snowy grass before the headstone. The blond man placed his free hand on the name plaque and wiped away the snow, leaves, and dirt, silently reading the words inscribed there.

'Lucille Ann Schmidt

Born 27 January, 1935, Died 11 February 1939

םירבח םולש*'

He sighed softly, not taking his hand off of the plaque.

"Guten morgen, Lucy."

He carefully placed the roses next to his hand, moving his gloved fingers to rest on top of the stems.

"It's been a long time since I started doing this, and yet it's still so difficult…"

He sighed softly.

"I doubt it will ever get any easier."

He shook his head and sighed again.

"It's hard to believe it's been so long. I remember everything so clearly… I remember you so clearly… Your scared blue eyes and trusting smile…"

His eyes briefly shifted away from the plaque.

"And how I just…"

He paused, swallowing softly, feeling his body begin to tremble with emotion. This was how it went every year… Upon regaining complete control of his emotions, he forced them back, clearing his throat and looking back at the grave as he did so.

"Happy birthday, Lucy. I brought you roses this year. Do you like them? I remember you mentioning how much you loved flowers, so I got you the best ones I could find."

He fell silent for a while, as though waiting for an answer from the little girl. A snow-filled breeze brushed the German man's face, making him realize that a thin line down either of his cheeks was particularly cold. He reached up with the hand that was not on the plaque and wiped his eyes. The snow behind him gave a soft crunch as someone else passed, heading to another grave somewhere in the cemetery. It was only after the muffled footsteps had faded into the distance that Germany found his voice again.

"To think, it took meeting and losing you to make me think about what was going on…"

He shook his head slightly, closing his ice-blue eyes to try and hide his emotions from the grave marker.

"I only knew you a short while… and I'm so sorry for what happened in that time… I was just following orders, but…"

Despite his attempt, a single tear trickled down his right cheek, the ice of his eyes beginning to melt in the heat of self-loathing.

"Who orders someone to harm such a small, innocent child? And what sort of heartless monster obeys such an order?"

He took a small, quaking breath, his gloved fingers almost seeming to try and grip the smooth, flat stone, then sliding back into depressed, resigned relaxation, his form slumping slightly and his head hanging so his eyes were facing down, just above the plaque and the roses.

"But I did it anyway. I handed you over like a lamb to the butcher."

The usually stoic man's body was trembling slightly now, his icy eyes fully melted and the tears slipping steadily down his cheeks as the memories returned in full force.

"If I had only done something… I know I could have… but I didn't…"

His breathing jumped a bit as he inhaled through silent tears, shaking his head at the things he could have done.

"I could have hidden you… said something… anything… Then things may have been different…"

A couple of his tears dripped from his eyes onto one of the rose's petals as he briefly opened his eyes, reading the plaque again, his voice beginning to shake with his body.

"So young… so much potential… And all you ever did wrong was be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person."

He slowly lifted his head.

"If only I had been stronger…"

He stared at the grave stone for a moment, then turned his melted blue eyes skyward, speaking quieter now.

"I pray for your forgiveness, Lucy. Every day, I pray you and all the others can find some way to forgive me…"

His face sank back down, so he was looking straight at the grave marker again.

"I would gladly go back and do it differently if I could…"

He swallowed softly, speaking in barely a whisper.

"But I can't…"

Germany had to stop speaking for a moment as his tears seized his voice. He cried silently for a short while, the liquid drops of memory falling and mixing with the dust of age on the stone below to make tiny, muddy puddles of regret by the roses. Soon, he wiped the tears from his eyes, once again regaining full control of himself.

"Can I ever be forgiven for what I've done?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, going unanswered by the dead, until Germany himself answered it.

"Nein… Nein, I can't be forgiven…"

A voice from behind him startled Germany from these seemingly final, reasonable words.

"Of course you can be forgiven, Germenyh*."

The blond man jumped slightly, not having heard anyone approach, and he looked back to see the voice's owner. A young, tan-skinned woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and a Star of David necklace resting on her scarred chest stood behind him, a small bouquet of flowers held loosely in her right hand. She gave a small incline of her head in greeting and knelt down next to him. Germany looked back at the grave.

"Guten morgen, Israel."

Israel placed the flowers she held next to Germany's roses, on which his hand still rested, as though the contact were necessary for him to able to speak to the little girl buried there, and spoke again without looking at him.

"It is good to see that you still remember her, after all these years. My biggest fear is that, one day, I shall be the only one who remembers."

Germany frowned slightly at the latter half of the comment, putting his free hand on the girl's brown-sleeved shoulder.

"That will never happen. I can promise you that much."

Israel glanced at him again after muttering a quick, soft prayer in Hebrew.

"Then why do you fear that you shall not be forgiven?"

Germany averted his eyes.

"I have caused too much suffering and death to deserve forgiveness."

Israel put her left hand on the older man's arm, the blue number tattoo she had received at a camp long ago, rather than being covered by a bandage as it usually was, completely visible and facing upward, where he could see it.

"I forgave you long ago."

The German's blue eyes slowly turned back, meeting the Israeli's brown eyes and watering slightly, as he offered her a weak smile.

"Danke…"

Israel was quiet and still for a second, then she turned and hugged him gently.

"Of course. I, after all, remember how you helped me, and how hard you work to keep the others' memories alive."

Germany was frozen for a moment, then gave a soft sigh and returned the hug.

"I had almost forgotten about that… Dankeschön, Israel. You have helped me a lot."

Israel gave a small incline of her head.

"I am glad. I would not want the reason I survived to dwell on things no one could have done anything about."

She looked up at the grey-blue sky, snow landing delicately in her dark hair and flecking it with white, the sun glinting off of the six-pointed star on her chest.

"I think Lucy is smiling down at you, thanking you for all you have done for her and the others."

Her eyes shifted back to him and she gave him the tiniest of smiles – the first smile he had ever seen from her.

"I think she forgives you."

Germany smiled slightly back. Maybe Israel was right. Maybe he had been forgiven…

Notes: The Hebrew on the plaque is read 'Shalom chaverim', which means "Farewell (or peace), until we meet again".

Germenyh is the romanized Hebrew word for, believe it or not, Germany.

The name used was in reference to the song Lucy by Skillet, and, to my knowledge, was not an actual person. Any resemblences to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional.

The character for Israel used was one of my own creation. Please do not get on my case for not using the fanon character. She will be showing up in other things I write, so keep an eye out for her.

Thank you for reading. I worked hard on this fic, and I would like to hear any thoughts or comments you had on this, so, by all means, leave me a review. I should be back to my normal schedule now, so you can expect a new chapter in Renegade on Thursday, so watch for that! Until then, have a good rest of the day. Shalom for now.