Hetalia human AU where Russia has some sort of Cardiovascular disease and is forced to takes pills everyday and/or have an pacemaker.
Cherself on Tumblr made the head-canon. ( Here! )
I never specified what it is because I do not want to be inaccurate! Sorry if any details are off or abnormal. I only know what I know about it from my grandfather who had a heart attack.
General Winter(Father): Toska Morozov
I may continue this if anyone wants more! ))
Ivan sat quietly in the hospital room, beeping machines and loud whirring around him from all the machines at work. Recently he'd been up to check on his current test medication. Only having the problem getting worse, whatever those big words meant, basically all the meaningless long scramble of words meant he was dying. Sighing he nodded without frowning, not like he expected any better.
This thing had been running his life for years. Many different pills, all different colors, shapes and sizes. Though the tens of pills now did nothing to stop that pain- though they never did- he mentally kicked himself having not paid attention to a words the medic spilled to him. Nodding dumbly Ivan had followed being put into hospital care- the room he's in now. Used the the hourly pokes of needles and beeping he still couldn't sleep.
The only family the male had was at home not to interested in waiting rooms since Toska has had to go so often with Ivan for surgeries, treatments and emergencies, as soon as Ivan turned eighteen he let him go alone being able to make decisions for himself. Also Ivan, having no close friends, usually stayed in the room there silently by himself.
Being told he was going to need something else in his pills and a surgery of some sort, Ivan signed away, having nothing else to do with his shortening no else to make decisions for him he often let the doctors do as they wished, letting them do whatever they thought was best. Ivan of course having no medical knowledge, the sheet the doctors showed him and log-list of colored medicines showed no interest to the Russian. Getting told he could leave was no good news, Ivan believed he wasn't ready at all.
Still being discharged against his wishes the tall man sighed at the look of his slouching home, he didn't want to be home. The home was eerily quiet. Nothing beside his walking ever made a sound aside from the squeaking of loose and old doors. Looking at the sweater that once fit he watched the fabric swing under his thin arms, lots of weight loss. Constant diet changes as well as the counted days of hospital food which he hated and never ate. Looking in the mirror at his thin figure not fitting any of his clothes as he used to. A belt was need, his scarf was wrapped twice more and his scared up chest was covered with the large sweater.
Looking much different, more tired, and sadder in general. His thin frame carried him slowly knowing he couldn't exactly move as he wanted. Ivan walked to the pace he knew best, it took too long to get there. Opening a small café & bakery door he smiled softly at the Frenchman happily talking with customers. Probably unrecognizable now he sat down, quite happy to see most of the people he knew walking around or in the store. Matthew stood behind behind the counter with Francis both laughing with their regular customers.
It was reassuring to see. Skimming over the people he was glanced at by a few people and waved when he saw both Arthur and Alfred look at him. Not getting much back he shifted the Canadian going up quietly having a short 'It's nice to see you' and him not ordering anything. He had nothing on him and couldn't pay if he wanted. All the money from the hospital care were going to be through the roof.
Getting a small complimentary slice of cake he chuckled knowing he wasn't supposed to have it. Eating a slice he blinked sharply not having sugar in a while. Getting the tingly feeling in his teeth from the sugar he shuddered slightly setting the plastic fork down apologizing for the wasted cake.
Shaking his head Francis sat down with him. Knowing the other even being around him was only due to the hospital visit, he forced a smile over his cheeks, "It's been a while, Francis." Getting a short nod back, Francis more happy Ivan was still around he looked at the bony hands Ivan got, replacing his plump fingers and squishy palms. Even his face was't rounded and pink, it as more pale and his cheekbones even showed. It was a lot different to see him. Shifting in their seats the two nodded to each other silently before Francis took the cake back, going back to his kitchen.
The Russian's purple eyes scanned over the room seeing most the people glancing at him every so often, he had been going down hill for a while; everyone noticed his decline as well. A small sigh left him while he looked at the reflective glass and snapped out of his self-hate staring by people passing. Blinking at the figures who had interrupted his thinking, he shifted in his chair stopping his rummaging thoughts. Going through his thoughts always lead him to a more dreary and crestfallen state of mind. Shifting the sweater he got up and waved a goodbye to the distracted Frenchman and left not really fixated on getting one back.
Walking over the tile of the café floor he was happy to at least move regular walking speed as opposed to his usual speed, which was not normal for his age of twenty-four, he shouldn't already have to take medicine to continue his heart beats. The short life he would have was no life at all, medicines and a machine ran his entire body. The short steps he did take landed him back at the tilting and broken home he owned. The one thing that actually was his.
Ivan shuffled inside with a sigh looking over the barre rooms with little to no furniture dotting the small house. Letting his eyes wander to the medicine. The disease was progressing, quickly, of course his medicine was shifted accordingly each and every time he went. The new list of pills meant nothing. Though most his older pills he usually got not long before and still full always got wasted.
Walking forward, over the step into the kitchen he looked at the unused pots, his eating habits worsening only helping the weight and strength loss throughout his body. Taking a left after the short kitchen walk way he glanced at the bathroom, the water is going to go out if he didn't work something out as well as heating. Ignoring the idea of the problem he went into his room walking away from his medicine topped dresser.
A thunk sounded as the headboard had hit the wall from him bouncing onto his bed. Curling up under the covers he writhed to get comfortable. Getting nowhere in his attempts he laid on his side facing the wall. Having to turn at the childish paranoia of something there he looked at the mirror. Ivan looked ridiculous. He was a twenty-four year old man, who was still a scared child.
Never listening to the doctors only spared him the idea of thinking he was immediately at the door of death itself- well he actually had his hand on the cold knob. Getting up he exhaled heavily, inhaling just as breathily going up to the mirror putting a hand on his jaw line and cheekbones.
A short frown was given, different from his usual neutral look of dislike smeared over his face. Puling off the sweater his gangly and thin arms almost got tangled in the large mass of fabric that draped his body. The Russian tossed it to his bed, missing with a disgruntled noise of disappointment. Leaving the sweater on the floor Ivan looked back at the mirror putting a hand over the pacemaker that protruded from his pale and scarred chest.
