Months passed and slowly Russia won and took total control of Prussia. There was no doubt that Russia's brainwashing was effective, Prussia slowly forgot about his past and his brother. He became exactly what Russia wanted him to be, a submissive communist state.

When he was satisfied that Prussia had forgotten that he had ever wanted to escape, Russia released Prussia from the bedroom.

Prussia surveyed the city, he knew that Berlin had once been different but he couldn't remember how. It was as though he had forgotten everything before Russia was with him, he doubted there had even been a time before that. All he could memories were of Russia and he could remember nothing else.

He watched the citizens ambling by on their daily business, they seemed happy enough to him. The country had become a communist paradise from all he could tell, and he felt a warm pride in his chest. Russia would be pleased with him, he may even reward him. His every thought focused on Russia, he lusted for him and respected him. Russia was the man that protected him from the fascism of the West, and for that he was grateful.

But somewhere in the back of his mind a strange loathing burned when he thought of Russia. He could not understand the hate, he had no reason he remembered to hate Russia. His memories went back almost exactly 40 years, beyond that he remembered nothing. He knew that there had been time before that, but it was as if it had all been erased aside from the small grain of hate that was still buried in the back of his mind.

He began to walk back through the city, the cold air whipped against his long coat. He now proudly wore the uniform of the Soviet Union; he considered it a privilege to wear the same uniform as Russia. He walked purposefully through the city; he could hardly wait to return home.

He reached the door within hours, and he opened it quickly. He turned on the light as he entered the familiar house, and he called out as he walked down the hall "I'm home". The response he had hoped for came from the living room "Privet, comrade". He turned the corner to find Russia sitting on the nondescript couch reading a newspaper.

Russia looked up as Prussia entered the room and put down his newspaper. He loved the way Prussia looked in a Soviet uniform, it made him believe that Prussia belonged exclusively to him. Prussia may not remember, but Russia recalled the first few weeks of struggle. He had even worried that he would be unable to convert Prussia to communism. But eventually he had his success and now he could relish in it.

He raised his hand and beckoned to Prussia "Gilbert, komm hier". Prussia's heart leapt when Russia called him, something about Russia speaking German turned him on. He walked over to Russia and stood in front of him. Russia reached out and pulled Prussia down so the German was on his lap.

Prussia knew the way this worked; he waited anxiously for Russia to make the next move. Russia obliged when he kissed Prussia on the lips. Prussia gave into the kiss at once, he welcomed Russia's control. He moaned into the kiss as Russia's tongue made its way into his mouth. Russia pulled back for a moment and then worked his way down Prussia's neck, leaving small bite marks along the way. Fire burned through Prussia with each kiss, and even more so with every bite. The slight pain thrilled him and it made him cry out slightly with each bite.

He could feel Russia pulling off his uniform, and Prussia began to do the same with Russia's uniform. He knew he had Russia's permission to do so, or he would not have been so bold. Russia pushed Prussia's shirt off of his shoulders, so he could have access to his entire chest.

The scars had faded to barley noticeable lines on his chest, but if one knew where to look they were quite obvious. The swastika on his arm had healed, but it was still obvious. He pushed Prussia over onto the couch, Prussia offered no resistance. Looking into Prussia's fierce red eyes, Russia was reminded of the first time he had kissed Prussia in the back of the car. But this was completely different, now Prussia was his utterly.

Russia pulled off Prussia's pants as Prussia did the same with his. Prussia turned over so his back was to Russia. Russia licked Prussia's ear and whispered in his ear "You know I won't give it to you that easily, you are going to have to beg". Prussia was beginning to sweat with anticipation and he whispered back "Ivan, please. I want you in me". Russia turned Prussia's head and kissed him again before pushing into Prussia.

Prussia cried out as the pain surged through him. Russia pulled out of Prussia and then pushed back into him; he began to escalate the speed of his thrusts. With each thrust Prussia cried out again as the pain and pleasure surged through him. As Russia's thrusts became harder and more rapid, Prussia climaxed and cried out "Ivan, Ah~!" Russia came shortly after Prussia. He stroked Prussia's hair lightly as the other panted and he whispered to him "You are a good boy".

Prussia was exhausted but exhilarated, he knew that it was an honor to be chosen by Russia. Out of all the Soviet satellite states, Russia had chosen him to be his lover. But, Russia's lust was seemingly bottomless and fulfilling it was very taxing. He felt Russia turn his head again and press his lips forcefully against his own. Prussia gave in to Russia's kiss; he would never think to be dominant. That same distant spark of hatred burned in the back of his mind, but it was easy to block out.

Every touch made passion burn through him and he couldn't get enough of it. With the comfort of Russia's presence, he began to fade into sleep. He wanted to spend more time in the waking world with Russia, but his body was too tired and he faded to sleep. Russia layed Prussia's coat over the man and left the room.

Prussia stirred slightly and remembered what he had been doing just before he had fallen asleep. He looked around quickly for Russia, who was always there when he woke up. He looked around to find that he was alone. Loneliness overtook him; he couldn't remember any time that he had woken up without Russia there.

He assumed that Russia must be in some other part of the house. He stood and stretched before pulling on his uniform. He carefully ran his hands over the front of his uniform to insure that it was perfectly in order.

Then he opened the door and walked into the hall, the house was darker than he could ever remember it being, his sense that something was off doubled, Russia never left all the lights off. Prussia wondered from room to room looking for Russia. But he was forced to conclude that Russia simply was not there. Sadness and loneliness engulfed him as he was forced to admit that Russia was completely gone.

He tried to block out the feelings, he had to be rational and act like the solider he was. He knew, or rather hoped, that Russia would come back eventually, and in the meantime he needed to concentrate on furthering communism. If he could keep the country the way Russia wanted it to be, then Russia would reward him when he returned.

Prussia wondered through the house and turned on the lights at random. It was strange, it was his house but there were rooms that he could not remember ever entering. A curiosity had always existed in him about those rooms, but Russia had always insisted that he not enter those rooms. He somehow knew what those rooms were, though he could not remember why he knew.

Now that there was no one to hold him back, he felt there would be no harm in just looking once. The one that had always most intrigued him was the room at the end of the hall which he knew was a bedroom. There was another bedroom in another part of the house that Prussia and Russia shared. As far as he could remember this bedroom had never been used and the door was always closed.

He pushed the door experimentally; he was not surprised to find that it was locked. But the intrigue that the door was locked only added to his need to know what lay behind it. He fished in his pocket for a moment attempting to find something that he could unlock the door with.

He found nothing and was forced to walk over to the desk in the other room to find a paperclip that he could use to open the door. When he finally found it, he bent it so it was straight. Then he walked back to the door and carefully picked the lock. He had to fish for the right spot until he heard the satisfying click that signaled that he had unlocked the door.

He pushed on the door and it swung in easily. The room behind the door was dark and dusty; it looked as though the room had not been used in at least 40 years. But from what he could tell, someone had used it before then. He had a sinking feeling that the someone was him, though he had no memory of it.

He looked around the room, taking in everything. Nothing about it seemed especially strange or out of place, but it stirred a feeling of unease in him. He dared not take a step into the room; he feared what he would find in the room. He turned and walked away, as he walked he took one last parting glace at the bed.

Then a memory that was his and not his flashed through his mind. He was handcuffed to the bed and Russia was cutting into his chest. The memory was gone as soon as it had come. Prussia put his hand to head and tried to block out the memory. He had no idea where it came from, and though the memory had left the emotions that came with it had not. He felt unexplainable hate and defiance; the emotions must be from the memory.

Prussia turned and slammed the door behind him, whatever was in the room he did not want to know. The single memory seemed to open a Pandora's Box of memories, Prussia covered his ears as the memories came flooding in. Memories of torment and torture came flooding into his mind. Suddenly he could remember everything, all of his past came crashing in. The weight of the memories made his knees buckle and he collapsed in the middle of the hallway.

As the old memories began to fall into place, the more recent ones shocked him more. The spark of hatred in the back of his mind took the fuel of the memories and burned through his mind. The shock long gone, he shook from rage. How could he allow himself to become so submissive and especially giving in to Russia? He pounded his fist on the floor in pure rage and frustration and he yelled to the air "That bastard!" 40 years' worth of memories could not be denied, he had been Russia's bitch for all that time.

The thought of it disgusted him. The memory of it all made him shudder. Then something else came to the forefront of his mind, his brother. They had been separate for so many years now; his brother must be worried about him. Even worse, now that he remembered he missed his brother with a passion.

He remembered the wall the stretched across Berlin, how many times in the years had he looked at it without a second glance? If Russia wasn't here, then he could make it to his brother. No, he needed to do more than that; he needed to break down that damn wall. This may be the only chance he would have. If Russia came back, then he would of course notice the difference. And Russia would of course redo the brainwashing and all the progress Prussia had made would be lost.

He couldn't accept that, he had to escape and at least get to his brother. He stood up; there was no reason to wait even a minute. He walked into his room and pulled off the Soviet uniform, he resisted the urge to burn it. As he suspected, Russia had kept his uniform in mint condition folded in a back drawer. He pulled on the uniform and felt refreshed. It was like returning to the person he was and leaving the pathetic person Russia had made him behind.

Once he had his uniform on, he took off down the hall at a full sprint. He tried not to look at the rooms as he sprinted out the house, each room held too many memories of Russia. He ran out of the front door and made sure he had a half mile between him and the house before stopping for breath.

As he ran through the city, it was as though he was seeing the people for the first time. All the time Russia had controlled him, he thought the people were happy. Now he could see that the people wanted, like him, to be free of the communist government. It was his fault that it was like this, and he had the responsibility to change it.

He reached the wall in a matter of minutes. He had picked up a crowbar as he had sprinted through the city, now he raised in and drove it into the gap between two of the concrete slabs. When there was no reaction he turned to the people milling about behind him, many of whom had already turned and started to watch him.

He had no idea if this would work, but he had to try. He raised the crowbar and yelled to the people "The Soviets are gone! If you want freedom, join me now and tear down this wall". For a moment there was no reaction, and then slowly at first the people began walking towards the wall. Then they began to run, some picked up implements to attack the wall.

Within a few moments there was a mob around the wall, attempting to tear down the wall. Prussia was driven by the need to see his brother again. Then just what he was hoping for happened, people on the other side of the wall came to help. They began to storm the wall from the other side.

He desperately searched the crowd for the one person he really wanted to see more than anything. And then he spotted him in the mob of people. The sight of his brother propelled Prussia to climb to the top of the wall with several other people. All dignity forgotten, he yelled to his brother.

Germany's whole face lit up when he saw Prussia, he ran through the crowd so he could reach his brother. Prussia reached out over the top of the wall and took Germany's hand. The people of both countries were destroying the wall on either side of them. Prussia cut the barbed wire and climbed over the top of the wall.

He landed in the masses of West Germans right in front of his brother. Germany pulled Prussia into a tight hug and both brothers cried tears of joy at the reunion. As the wall came down behind them, the country became whole again.

Prussia was ecstatic to be back with his brother and they spent the first few days simply enjoying each other's company and planning on how to rebuild the country. It was one of these days and they were sitting in the living room drawing up plans on how to reunite the country completely.

Prussia heard a door open in a distant part of the house; he momentarily had to push the idea that it was Russia out of his mind. Then a sweet voice called out "Ludwig, I was out shopping and I thought you might need some groceries, so brought you the extras". Prussia wasn't aware he was standing until he looked over at his brother who was still sitting.

Despite Germany's questioning look, Prussia turned and walked to the front hall. Hungary was removing her shoes and didn't notice Prussia for a moment. Then she looked up and saw him. The color drained from her face as she looked at him.

Prussia thought for a moment that she was going to pass out, then she threw herself into a crushing hug. Prussia had not expected it and was forced to take a step back in order to regain his balance. He could feel her crying on his shoulder, this was definitely not the response he was expecting.

She looked up at him with slightly wet eyes and slapped him across the face "That is for making me worry so much!" He was about to object when she pressed her lips against his in a short sweet kiss. When she pulled back she said "and that is for coming back". Prussia could hear Germany laughing in the background and so could Hungary.

She blushed scarlet and slapped Prussia again "And that is for trying to hit on a married woman". Prussia really didn't mind getting slapped; as long as he was spending time with Hungary he was happy. It was so good to be home.

It had been nearly 15 years since the fall of the Berlin wall, and once again Prussia was alone. It was not unusual for Germany to spend time with Italy, but it made Prussia feel very lonely. Prussia was feeling especially Masochistic, which had also become far more common since the wall fell.

He eyed the razor blade he had taken out; he considered causing himself pain with it. The idea wasn't especially appealing, he surely wasn't that desperate. Then he glanced over at the counter at his cell phone. Then an idea came to him, one that appalled and shocked him at the same time.

He doubted he even had the number, but he may as well look. He put down the razor and picked up his cell phone. He ran through his contacts list until he reached the "I"s. He did have the number after all, though he could not remember when he had put it in. On the spur of the moment he called the number and put the phone up to his ear. He waited while the phone rang; he slightly hoped it would go straight to voicemail. Then the person on the other end picked up "Privet".

Author's Notes: So there you have it, that is the ending. I know it was kind of fast, but I hope you liked it. Please review and tell me what you think so I know what to improve for my next fanfic