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Summer 2016
Gilbert was sprawled out on the too large bed, sheets tangled around his hips and legs, the sound of the central air humming in the room. They were in New York City for the weekend, and Gilbert was taking advantage of the central air as the temperature was high and the humidity even higher. He was not used to American summers. But, something he did like about them, was how easy it was to get air conditioning units.
Last year had been his fifth year spending summer time in the United States. As he and Alfred had grown closer, he’d spent more and more time in the country. And now he lived part time in the US, with summer always being a time he visited. This year was a little different, though. He was spending a full six months in the US so he could enjoy American autumn festivals. Usually, he spent a few short months in country, then a few in Europe, and a few back in the US. It made it hard on his cats, of which he had two.
Staring up at the ceiling, he heard a little “prrt” and felt one of the cats jump up onto the bed. Holding his hand out, he felt the silky smooth fur of his princess Adini. She was a ragdoll, and she was the most loving cat he’d ever had. Not that he’d had many, he used to be much more of a dog person. But this travel he did, this dating he did, made it hard.
“Where is your Papa, ‘Dini?” He asked the now purring cat as he pet down her spine and went back up to scratch her ears. “In the kitchen you say? Well, I guess I should put on clothes and go join him so you and your brother can take the bed.”
Petting Adini for a few more moments, he eventually sat up, kicked the blankets off his legs, and got up. Gilbert stretched as he stood, then went to the dresser to pull out some briefs and one of Alfred’s shirts to change into. While he was fine being naked, Alfred would go red if his European boyfriend walked around naked. It was the Puritan in him.
Once moderately clothed, he made the bed, and made his way down the hall to the living area, passing his cat Kaiser on the way. He paused at the end of the hall and listened. The sound of a whisk in a bowl told him his boyfriend was indeed in the kitchen as he’d guessed. So he made his way there, smiling when he saw the ray of sunshine that was the United States at the island.
“Hey you~ What are you doing?” Gilbert asked.
“Making waffles. The Belgian kind, because Bella was nice enough to give me her recipe. You’re awake later than usual.” Alfred noted with a flush. It was obvious the events of the night before were still fresh on his mind.
“I got a good workout~” Gilbert teased gently and went to the fridge to pull out some oranges. He had a juicer for a reason in this place that was his home for six months of the year. He liked experimenting with fruit juices and this morning was going to be orange and apple and mint.
Alfred requested a cup of whatever Gilbert was making, and soon the kitchen was filled with juicer noises.
This domestic life they’d found had been a long time coming. They’d been in near constant communication since the 1990s, and even before 1939 they’d had plenty of letter exchanges. But they’d never explored more than a friendship until the 2000s, after Obama had been elected and Gilbert had gone to the inauguration. Hell, Alfred had invited him to the inaugural ball at the inauguration.
Of course, they didn’t know back then why Gilbert was still alive. He had no nation to speak of. Even his healing wasn’t what it had been decades ago. And he got sick. It was rough for a few years in the beginning. But then Gilbert and Ludwig noticed a pattern to his illnesses and recoveries. And, around 2012 they realized Gilbert had evolved once again. Starting as a religious order, then a Duchy, then Kingdom, then Empire, and finally a Free State and Soviet enclave. Gilbert had evolved over time. And now? Now he was kept alive as a little trade union known as the European Union. Which… had changed things.
First, it was the reactions across the member states. Gilbert had warred with many of them, and there were grudges being held. And then there was his growing affections for the bully across the Atlantic known as the United States. How could they make this work? It had been tough but they’d figured it out. And part of that was leaving their politics at the door as much as they could. No gripes about national healthcare. No shots about the lack of disability protections in Europe. Definitely no discussions on energy or military spending unless it was without the power of their positions behind them.
And now, here they were, in New York City in a penthouse that was secured and made for easy commutes to DC by helicopter. And Alfred was making Belgian waffles.
“So, I had a thought,” Gilbert started as he placed a cup of juice on the counter next to the stove for Alfred, “about our plans this autumn.”
Alfred took a sip from the glass and nodded at the flavor, then looked to Gilbert. “What about them?”
“Well… You know how I’m a pilot, right? I was hoping we could find an airfield with a biplane that I could take out for a bit. You’ve never gotten to see me fly…”
The Prussian could see the moment Alfred really got behind the idea. No questions, but his baby blue eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement. “Oh Sweet Baby Rays, I can arrange this! I’ll need a copy of your license but I know some people.” The American grinned. Which always made Gilbert want to swoon.
“Then I’ll let you arrange it, cowboy~” came the reply.
The flirty nickname had come from an earlier date years ago where they’d been line dancing (more Alfred teaching Gilbert than anything else). There had been cowboy hats in the venue that Alfred put on and the nickname came quickly. The only time it was an issue was when one of the actual cowboy states was with them. Though he flirted much less openly around them, but a “cowboy” or two had slipped out.
As he thought about a future date with a plane, Alfred finished making the waffles and they sat at the island to eat and discuss more of their upcoming plans.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spring 1916
Gilbert pulled his hat off, watching as the leader of the Jasta returned to the ground. The Spring air was chilly, even in mid-day, and he rubbed his gloved hands together. Today was one of their few days of rest. Whatever rest was when you still flew patrols in the sky. Today, Gilbert had stayed behind for an interview with a Berlin newspaper. Times were different now that photography with news articles were more commonplace. It was harder to hide in plain sight. Though, in the past, the notion of an immortal representative had been loved by the courts, even if civilians didn’t know.
In the Jasta, Gilbert was known as Prussia. Manfred, their Rote Kampfflieger, made sure they all knew what he was. It was an interesting dynamic. He could die and come back. But that didn’t make him any better than the humans he flew with. His brothers in arms and his human family. All of them were just as reckless as each other. It made their deaths, when they happened, that much harder to handle. But it was also why it was Gilbert who gave the interview today: because they needed someone who could talk about the Jasta without letting any secrets out. And Gilbert was very good at that game.
Watching Manfred land, Gilbert went to meet their leader and give him the updates from the morning. Who was restless, who was under the weather, the stories he’d shared with the newspaper. How there were no photos, but someone was going to be out to draw portraits of the crew, and how he would be sure to be in the skies when that happened.
Such was how their downtime went. And, before long, they were in the skies again. War was war, and this one was never ending. While Gilbert enjoyed the flying, he worried about Ludwig in the trenches. He knew how dangerous that could be, and Ludwig was still young, even if he looked grown. He was still scrawny and it worried him. These fears were journaled and not shared elsewhere. The Prussian missed his American pen pal out here at war. They’d stopped exchanging letters in 1914 and he hoped, once this war was won, they could resume their correspondence.
This war was in its second year and he was wondering when it would end. No matter the kills in the sky, it felt like they weren’t making headway. Gilbert did not voice his frustrations of the way the war was being handled. The Kaiser had to know what he was doing, right? There had to be a reason things were stalling.
If only he’d known then what he would know later…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
October 2016
The summer had passed in a flash. The election cycle was in full swing and Alfred, after his birthday, had been busy almost every day. And, there was Brexit, which gave Gilbert the worst indigestion he’d had in decades. And there were the various elections in Europe that he had to stay on top of. After their few trips, they’d been apart more than they’d been together, so they cherished the weekends they got. And, this weekend was flying weekend.
It was mid-October, and the weather was perfect. The air was crisp, the leaves had turned, and the wind was light. It all excited Gilbert and made him giddy. He was like a kid at Christmas. If he got to fly the plane he wanted to fly, he was going to put on a show. A show he tried to warn his boyfriend about, but said boyfriend seemed to think it would be mild tricks. And Gilbert wasn't going to correct him.
They were spending the long weekend in Connecticut. Gilbert thought it was a quaint state. Alfred told him it was one of the oldest states and Connie would talk his ear off if he heard Gilbert call the state “quaint”. The Prussian laughed about that but did say they could have a dinner with the state. He felt he didn’t talk with enough of the states given the amount of time he was spending in the country.
The ride to the airfield after breakfast was nice. It was a small, local, airfield. No commercial flights came here. But it definitely looked like it was kept up well.
Upon parking and getting out of the car, Gilbert stretched and bounced a bit on his feet. “Alfred, this is the perfect day for this.”
“It is. I think you’ll like what you’re slated to fly today.” Alfred said as they made their way into the main building.
“Oh?-“
“Alfred! Good to see you my boy!” A man called out and distracted Gilbert from his question.
“George! It’s good to see you!” Alfred boomed back and went to go hug the man.
George was a middle aged man. He could have easily been Alfred’s father. Was he one of the ones “in the know”? Or was this one of the last times they’d see each other?
“George, I want to introduce you to my boyfriend, Gilbert. He’s a retired nation. Gilbert, this is George. We served together previously and he learned my secret.” Alfred said with a smile.
That answered that. Gilbert shook the human’s hand and nodded. “Retired is one way to put it. It is nice to meet you.” He responded.
“The pleasure is mine. I don’t meet very many of you lot. I’ve met some states. Ah, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll share how I came to know your ageless lot another time. So, you’re the first world war ace pilot?” He appraised Gilbert then, looking him over. “You’re the right size, that’s for sure.”
Gilbert nodded along with the assessment. He was the right size. Ludwig had been left on the ground because he’d been just a little too wide for the early planes. Gilbert had been able to soar in his place.
“I am a former ace. So, what plane do you have for me?”
George turned to lead them from the main building back out into the cool air. “A beauty you’re familiar with. I got an albatross ready to go.”
Gilbert’s eyes widened briefly and he looked quickly to Alfred, who looked smug. What a gift this was. Oh… Oh his poor boyfriend…
“An albatross is perfect, thank you.”
“She’s been well cared for over the years. She’s in top shape, still. She should be able to handle anything you can do.” Which seemed to Gilbert to mean George understood what it meant to have flown one of these back in the day.
Heading into the hanger, the Prussian smiled as he was greeted with a yellow plane, not so much unlike his own had been. Going to the plane, he looked at the paint job, noticing the underside of the wings were painted a blue-grey color. And the nose had a face on it. He smiled and ran his hand over the body of the plane. She was perfect.
A set of young airfield crew members came to help roll her out, and Gilbert followed behind next to Alfred.
“This is amazing. Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered loudly to Alfred.
“I wasn’t sure we would get her. George’s great-grandfather bought her and she’s been with the family since.” Alfred explained. So she was indeed special. And well loved. Gilbert would show them just what she could do.
After the plane was in position (Gilbert noticed “Bertha” painted on the tail, what a good name), he was given a helmet and goggles to wear. The helmet had a headset so he could talk to George and Alfred here on the ground. They did safety checks together and then Gilbert climbed the ladder to settle into the flight seat.
It was just as uncomfortable as he remembered. Good. This would add to the thrill.
He did an equipment check there, too, then the rutters were started. Everyone moved back to a safe distance and Gilbert made sure he could be heard clearly before getting ready for flight. He went quickly down the runway and lifted off smoothly. He had to get a feel for what Bertha could do, so he started with a few laps around the airfield, slowly climbing higher with each round.
Alfred was down on the ground, chatting with George through the headset so Gilbert could listen. He was saying how nice the plane looked in the sky, how smoothly Gilbert flew, how this was great weather. The Prussian grinned to himself as they talked.
“Hey Alfred? Are you ready for a show?” Gilbert asked, interrupting his boyfriend in the middle of making lunch plans.
“Uh… yes?”
“George, make sure he doesn’t fall over, okay?” Gilbert asked and got an affirmative on that with a laugh. And then he was climbing in the sky.
Higher.
And higher.
And higher yet. And then… he was nose diving. It looked like he was out of control. The speed, the spinning. Alfred was trying to get his attention and was sounding increasingly more worried.
Not yet… not yet…
NOW!
At the last second, he pulled up, not hitting the ground and laughing as he climbed again. And he cheered as he went. It took a moment to realize Alfred was yelling at him through the headset. He just kept laughing as he went into different tricks, ones that were less terrifying than his suicidal dive.
“I’m fine, Alfred, the plane is well cared for.” He finally said as he started doing laps again.
“The plane is one hundred years old! Apple Pie, Gilbert! That was terrifying!” Alfred exclaimed.
“Do you want me to land?”
“No… Not until you’re ready. Just don’t do that again!” Came the whined reply.
Gilbert would spend another twenty minutes just flying around, seeing what he could of the towns around the area from above. It was almost like being back in the nineteen-teens… Minus the cars he saw below. But, otherwise, it was the same.
The autumn air was chilly on his face as he slowed and descended back to the airfield. It felt good having been up in the air and not having to fight for his life. It was almost sad, coming back to reality, but he got the plane stopped and climbed down once the ladder was brought to him. The Prussian smiled as Alfred came over to sweep him up into a hug.
“Hey- Alfred- I’m fine.” He laughed as he got a squeeze.
“I thought you were going to crash.”
“But I didn’t. I was in complete control the entire time.” He hugged his American back and gave a bit of a squeeze. He was trying to be reassuring but wasn’t sure that was coming across. Especially when he heard a small sniffle by his ear.
“Alfred? Are you okay?”
And then his personal heater was moving back and holding him at arms length, looking serious. “Warn a guy next time, okay? I was honestly worried I was going to have to explain how you came back from a plane crash to a civilian doctor and how we weren’t going to sue.”
Gilbert smiled lovingly and shrugged. “First off, I signed a release-“ and Alfred opened his mouth to speak, “secondly, I will warn you next time.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I don’t like upsetting you, Alfred. Now… What else can we do around here?”
They spent the next half hour conversing with George, going to the airport terminal to have coffee as they talked. George was enthused by the flying, saying he hadn’t seen such flying in real life. It was exciting! Alfred, for his part, chatted about the skill it must have taken to do some of those tricks. Which brought up the question of modern planes and if Alfred and Gilbert could put on a show together. That was struck down almost immediately, with the American deciding that he’d rather watch his pilots do it than risk a run in. The Prussian just smiled a bit because, well, he could do tricks in modern planes, too.
After they finished their coffee and social time, Alfred and Gilbert made their way to their cars. Alfred said they’d meet up with Connie for dinner and so they were going back to the hotel for freshening up and lunch. Dinner at six would be good, right? The Prussian nodded and a text was sent to confirm dinner.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Winter 199X
“You look just like your grandfather.” Gilbert looked up at the young man. They were at a funeral ceremony for one of the last German pilots of the first World War. He couldn’t quite place the man, the years of memories melding together, but he was obviously a relative of a former pilot.
“Thank you. It would have been amazing to have met him to discuss the Jasta.” Gilbert lied easily. Yes, he wasn’t the ace pilot, his grandfather had been, and he’d not made it back from the war.
“I’m sure he would have had a lot of amazing stories…” The other said gently.
Both of them were on the outer ring of the ceremony. There weren’t many people here, mostly family, or friends and those the pilot’s life had touched through the years. Gilbert wondered, for a moment, if he’d get such a small turnout when he died someday. Just an old man, unknown except for those closest to him, with a rich life lived.
Gilbert had been to many of these over the last decade. Usually without Ludwig. It was more personal to him to see the families of former pilots than it was for Ludwig. It had been something he’d been doing since Reunification, among other things. And, today, was one of the last of the Germans. Maybe even the last one.
Gilbert and the unknown man fell into silence as the ceremony moved to prayers. Not much longer, now, and the world would forget about this war. It wouldn’t be so fresh when everyone who fought it were dead. Sure, history would remember the war, but only the big names would be remembered. And, well, human memories were short. Eventually, they’d forget the lessons learned and repeat the mistakes that led to such a war in the first place. Except… well… who knew how the weapons would be at that point. Would the concept of mutually assured destruction stop them?
The Prussian was brought out of his contemplations by movement at the grave. Ah, they were done. Gilbert would stay back, wait for the family to disperse, and make his way to the grave to pay his final respects. A long life of a hero. Or, maybe not a hero, but a man with complex emotions and a complicated place he called home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
October 2016
Alfred was gone when he woke up in the morning. They were mere weeks from the election and something had called his boyfriend into DC overnight. Gilbert checked his phone for a “good morning” text and sent one of his own, then he got up and made his way to the bathroom. He showered, dressed, brushed his teeth, and then he went to the kitchen.
Opening a cabinet to pull out coffee beans to grind, he noticed a little hand written note.
Gilbie, I made up some egg bites before I left, they’re in the fridge. Love you~ xoxo Alfie
Gilbert smiled and started grinding his beans. Egg bites would be good. And then he’d check in with Ludwig about his upcoming trip back to Germany. Ludwig had said he wanted to be home for Gilbert’s arrival, so they were planning together. It was a lot easier these days when they could video call on skype and coordinate in real time.
Coffee ground up, he set the drip, and moved to the fridge to find the bag of egg bites. Perfect! He put them back into a muffin tin to heat back up in the oven. He didn’t like using the microwave if he could help it. That was all Alfred. Said American picked on him for it, called him old, and said he needed to get “hip with the times”. It made him chuckle to think about.
Once everything was ready, eaten, and a second cup of coffee poured, Gilbert went to his home office to meet online with Ludwig.
They ended up talking about European politics for a while. How Brexit had affected everyone so far on the continent. And then they moved onto the US elections. Things had been tense for those watching, but it was nothing compared to what Alfred was experiencing. Everyone would be happy when the cycle was over. Which led them to Gilbert’s imminent return to Europe. They decided on mid-November. That would leave Alfred a few days to decompress with Gilbert before they separated for a few months. And, hopefully, he’d be back in time for the next inauguration, making it eight years since his last one. And hopefully many more to come.