Germany and Prussia spent a long time just talking, considering what they'd do now that they found each other. Germany assured his brother that he could live with him, since Prussia had nowhere else to go. Besides, he offered to help take care of Italy. The truth was, he wanted to take care of his little brother again. He still felt the need to make sure Germany was all right, and he wondered, since Italy was so innocent and vulnerable, who took care of Germany when he was sick? Who comforted him when he was down? Who made sure he relaxed and didn't overwork himself? He needed Prussia.

They were supposed to head back to Berlin when agent Phil Coulson reported that all the flights out of the nation were closed due to dangerous snowstorms. It was going to be one of the coldest winters New York had ever seen. Merely road travel was very risky due to the icy conditions. And so the three nations sat in Schwarna eating with the Avengers when they should have been back home.

"What do we do now?" Germany sighed, sipping on a mug of coffee. Even inside it was chilly, and the tops of his ears were flushed red, as well as his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Natasha thought his blushing was really cute, but she kept it to herself.

"I wouldn't recommend travel in this weather, Mr. Beilschmidt," Fury told him.

Steve took a sip of his hot chocolate and smiled, observing that even at SHIELD they were well decorated for Christmas, with wreaths and bells and Christmas trees sparkling with ornaments. "You could stay here for Christmas, you know."

"Ve, Christmas!" Italy sang, dancing around the room. "I can't wait for Christmas, we'll have so much fun!"

Natasha smiled. "You know, the city is beautiful this time of year, Feliciano," she told him, taking his hand and pointing out the window. There was a giant Christmas tree in Times Square, illuminated up by thousands of tiny lights of different colors. Snowflakes came fluttering to the ground like in a movie, and the young Italian's eyes shone with delight.

And for the first time in a painfully long period of months, Germany broke into a genuine smile. Everything, for once, was right with the world, just like that same night seventy years ago in the Allied prison camp. He touched the golden American star Captain America had given him and looked over at his friend to see that he was doing the same with the Iron Cross. His big brother was with him, safe and sound, and Natasha Romanov looked back at him and smiled, causing his cheeks to heat up.

He remembered Christmas as a child, Prussia holding him up to the window, his chubby little child hands making imprints on the glass as he stared at the December world in innocent wonder. "Look at that, West," Prussia would say, and point out decorations that would make his brother gasp in delight, like a little tree across for them that was always decorated with lit-up toys.

Now as Natasha showed Italy around, Germany saw the same childlike wonderment in his friend's brown eyes. Italy, so innocent, so caring, so pure and blissfully unaware. "I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play... And loud and sweet their songs repeat: 'Peace on earth, goodwill to men'." And Germany believed in such a thing for the first time since that Christmas Eve seventy years ago. And looking at Italy, awestruck and beaming, he thought he was staring at the personification of peace on earth and goodwill to men.