Okay so this is perhaps my darkest stand-alone fic to date. (not gory or torture just darker)

There will be a full on explanation at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

This is a one-shot but may involve into a two-shot. (Don't hold your breath on it through)

Takes place between: (Following end of WWI) November 11th 1918 - (Great Depression) October 24th 1929 aka Lithuania's outsourcing period.


Civil War Era: Early 1860's (1861-1865)

Thicket ripped the thin cloth that covered a small body. Thorns and branches tore at too pale skin but the boy felt nothing but the hot tears flowing down his cheeks as the ringing of voices once beloved spouted hurtful things. His chest heaved painfully and his legs felt on fire but still he moved forward.

The sun was starting to set, sending the forest into rapidly consuming darkness.

Bare feet thumped against the frozen ground of decayed leafs and fallen branches. Winter was fast approaching. Freezing the world into its cold harsh embrace. The boy still continued on.

Far, far away from his torment.

His foot caught on a root and he stumbled into a small clearing. Knees scrapping against the harsh forest floor, tearing clothing but still he got up.

He only managed a few steps before he fell again. Knees hitting the ground again, sending him into a hunched over position but still-No, No there was no getting up this time. No moving forward. His body ached with fatigue. His lungs constricted painfully against his ribs and black dots blotted his vision. His entire being was in agony.

The far off boom of cannons and the cries of men could be heard in the distance. Brother against brother.

Even though they shouldn't be here. A part of in him shouted.

His body was not the only thing being torn apart but his heart too.

He felt as if he was being torn at he seams and nobody cared that he was falling apart.

Even though they said he was precious to them. They would protect him. Love him. Always be there for him.

How quickly they turned.

Now the voices of those he loved rang in his ears and though he didn't want to listen to them...

No one really wants you

You're only good for your resources and warming beds

Worthless

better off dead

No one will ever love you

...He knew they were right.

His heart clenched painfully within his chest and he gripped the fabric above it. He felt like it was shattering.

They only said it out of spite, out of anger he tried to reason but it only came out as a small whisper as a larger, louder part screamed it was true. They wanted to hurt him.

They didn't ever love him. No one ever loved him. No one would ever love him.

He couldn't deny their words. They were right.

They came and went as they liked. Only ever spending any extended time with him only if they could claim him. Only telling him they loved him during these moments and then they would leave and return only when they wanted something.

They always asked something from him. Always asking. Always wanting. Always wanting to improve themselves regardless of what it did to him. Drained him, hurt him, tore him. Oh! but how they would say they loved him.

Liars

They only came to him only when they wanted to satisfy their own needs. He realized this now. They didn't care about him. They didn't love him. It was all in false affection. He was a toy and they were children. Children whom cherished him, made him think he was wanted before quickly losing interest and throwing him away without care. Like trash.

He was only a tool for them to get ahead in the world.

But oh! how they would profess their love for him and when they would leave they would say it was only for his own good. They didn't want to hurt him.

He was nothing but a possession to them. A prize to be paraded around.

He was only good to have fun with, to show off with and then cast aside like a mistress or harlot from the street. He was never really in their hearts.

He was a fool. A damn lovesick fool blinded by heartless devils who whispered sweet nothings to him to shroud the truth.

He wouldn't allow himself to be a fool anymore.

Once bright blue eyes steeled into icy determination.

If nations were meant to be loveless. Were only good in using and being used then he didn't want to be apart of it. He wouldn't be made the fool.

If they were to act heartless then he would make it a reality.

They would no longer be able to play with his heartstrings. He would make sure of that.

His heart pumped in a steady rhythm.

He wouldn't allow himself to be hurt by their false love anymore...Fingers could feel the solid thump thump of the red organ within.


Anguished wails ripped through the air as the first snow of winter fell from the sky.


Fall 1920's

Lithe fingers wrapped around his wrist. Bringing his hand up and onto a warm chest, slipping it beneath fabric. He blushed and squeezed his eyes shut, that is...until he felt it. Cautiously he looked up to where his hand connected with the skin of the other. A wave of horror passed over him. Sending a heavy stone into the pit of his stomach. Making him feel like he was going to faint, scream, or both from the shear terror of what he was seeing. He had only asked a question, a terrible stupid question.

"Why are you so different?" He had asked when they had once again decided to share a bed. Although it was odd to him when the blond had first asked him to sleep in the same bed, he had to admit it was far better than sharing a bed with the other two Baltic nations and though he still questioned the reason behind it another question had dominance in his mind.

A question he had so stupidly asked.

Why had he have to ask such a thing? Regret in his mind as he tried to stare anywhere but at the others chest.

He hadn't meant it as mean or prying. He had only wondered at the extreme differences the male showed from home and meetings. The strange way the other acted at home, often reserved and dare he say aloof versus the normally rambunctious and cheery man who the nations had become custom to seeing. It seemed to him as if the blonde at home and the one shown at meeting were two different people. He noticed sometimes it was like the nation was only half there or sometimes...not at all.

The only continuous between home and meeting was that he had never seen the taller nation without his glasses. At least...not awake. Even when they slept in the same bed the western man would keep his glasses on and would only take them off when he was sure the Baltic was asleep. When the brunette did see the blond without them he was fast asleep, face usually buried into a blanket or pillow. Effectively obscuring his face from view.

But not tonight. He understood now face to face with the tan nation, gazing into the emotionless eyes. No longer hidden by wired frames and glass. That they were merely for disguise. They were only to hide the truth.

He could feel himself being sucked into them and struggled to look away. His attention instead pulled down, down and into the black abyss in the others chest.

This had not been what he had expected nor could have ever had dreamed of. He had lived with the King of horrors himself! He had seen practically ever wound and terror imaginable under the northern nation. He had been in countless wars and battles but this, this was by far the worse thing he had ever seen.

The other guided his hand along the edge. He tried to pull away but the blond kept his grip. Not hurtful but enough to keep him there. He shook as his appendage was moved along the edge almost dipping within. He tried to suppress the shiver that ran up his spine.

It was terrifying and strange. The skin beneath his finger tips wasn't hot or gooey or even a moist as he had thought it would be. Although it wasn't dry. It was somehow inhumanly cool and so strange to the touch. As if his fingers were being moved over marble instead of flesh. He found himself wishing the spot was warm like the rest of the body or at the very least more like a wound. He'd rather it be that way; sickening wet and hot than the raw cold tissue beneath his palm.

The chest heaved in the steady rhythm of breathing and he could feel warmth radiating off the tan body signally life but the area, this one area persisted in remaining terrifyingly cold. It was lost in time, big as it was when it was first created.

It wasn't right.

The hand around his wrist slipped away but dull blue kept watch and he ducked his head to avoid the gaze never the less he couldn't help peaking at the impassive blonde. His brown locks partially hiding his view. He didn't know how long he stared like that and before long he could feel part of his horror edge away and a morbid curiosity took over.

His hands tentatively started to run over the age-old wound.

How long had it been like this? Why hadn't it healed? How had no one noticed? Questions like these ran throughout his head but the question that rang the loudest was, Why?

Why had someone done this to him? Why had they did this to him. Who had done this to Alfred?

"Who?" Toris whispered, staring at the ruined flesh.

"Love hurts..."

"What?" The Lithuanian said as his wrist was suddenly grabbed and put over the heart that no longer existed.

"Haven't you ever been in love before?..." The American stated.


All right explanation time!

CONCEPT:

I got this idea that America was wanted by many nations across the worlds. A young, pretty little thing that was a ball of sunshine. Who wouldn't?

He was loved by them but because of various reasons, his loves couldn't be together with him and he is essentially slung from nation to nation in hopes of love but is meet with disappointment and hurt time after time again. Each time it breaks his heart a little more. Building up until he shatters completely.

WITHIN STORY ANSWERS:

Colonial-Civil War Era: During this time Alfred was young and naïve and when you're young and naïve you tend to easily fall prey to love. But love to nations is not an easy thing to have with politics, war, what's best for the people, or simply distance therefore they aren't guaranteed to last. Thus old world nations concept of "love" between them consists of mainly flings, one-night sand, political marriages, and the occasional lasting relationship. But to a young nation like America this is not a known/easy to understand concept. Thus hurt and pain are guaranteed.

Alfred decides he doesn't want to be hurt anymore and therefore rips his heart out. (since nations can only Love/feel emotion with a heart) But unlike Russia whose heart "pops out". Alfred physical removed his and kept it out for an extended period versus Ivan whom puts it back as soon as he can.

Alfred's testing Toris with the being in the same bed. He does this to all nations who sleep at his home.

I think that answers all questions but if you have anymore feel to ask.