Title: The Cost of Sanity

Anime/Manga: Hetalia

Pairings: BelarusxLithuania

Summary: After World War II Toris is in charge of taking care of a traumatized and depressed Natalie…who is slowly but surely dragging him down to her level.

A/N: I rarely write dark fics and I'm not a huge fan of how Belarus is portrayed in Hetalia but I was in the mood for something different. I'm sure anyone would go crazy from trying to help Bela.

"You be back by midnight, you hear me?" Natalie demanded, issued in Russian, echoed through the house's dim interior. Though she had her own native tongue, she insisted on speaking Russian, to "make big brother proud."

Toris's shoulders knotted as he realized he hadn't made it past her unnoticed. He didn't answer and kept heading for the door, regretting it when he heard the chair scrape across the linoleum followed by her muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor.

He should have known that staying at her house to keep an eye on her was going to cause nothing but mental pain and heartache. World War II was over…done for…and yet the scars still remained…consuming the Braginski siblings.

Being already half-mad, Ivan handled his wounds in his own way, by torturing his newest prize Gilbert and making the albino's existence a living hell.

Poor Katyusha had tried to pull herself back together but after going through Nazi Germany's constant abuse and the starvation Ivan put her through she became silent, more watchful, more skittish, and no longer laughed or smiled in the presence of others.

And Natalie…Natalie had cracked. Toris couldn't count the number of times she went on a rampage, brandishing that knife of hers. None of the countries wanted to help calm the blonde female and against Poland's advice Toris stepped up to the plate and became in charge of healing her broken mind.

He did it for love...

...and instantly regreted it.

During his stay he made an effort to take in everything she threw at him. She kicked him, screamed at him, bit him, stabbed him twice in the same arm, and belittled him.

And on some days…she would become a picture of calm. She would allow him to brush her hair, help cook dinner, kiss his cheek, and thank him constantly for staying with her…

…and then…she would go back to her old self, opening up fresher wounds and sharpening her blade.

Toris could take the daily abuse and threats from Ivan because Ivan didn't know any better...but for some reason…he could only take so much from the woman he loved.

"Toris!" she snapped, rounding the corner to the entryway. Despite her beauty, her eyes showed an ugliness that presented years of hardship and bitter hatred that consumed her from the inside.

How could someone so beautiful become such a hateful monster?

She stopped short when she saw him, curling her lip like she smelled something. "What the hell do you think you are wearing?" she asked as she took in his humble clothing, comfortable clothing that warmed him from the cold and dreary nights here in her country.

"I…have to go, Natalie," he said, and tried to slip out the door, but she jumped in front of him. He swallowed hard and tried to draw back but she grabbed his cheek between her thumb and her forefinger and squeezed. "Natalie please! I'm just going out for a small drink. I'll be back by midnight and I'll bring home some food for tomorrow's dinner."

Please. Just leave me be. I can't take this anymore. This house is too stifling and you're tearing me apart!

"You think some girl is going to want a bastard like you, dressed up like some poor farmer?" she looked him up down again, cold blue eyes gleaming madly. "But no clothes can change you."

She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled at his cheek, breathing heavily on his face causing him to nearly recoil from the wretched smell.

Though every cell in his body rebelled, he had no choice but to bend his head closer. "You are a coward, like Latvia and that damn Estonia. You and the two of them, all cowards who ruined my life."

He forced himself not to pull away, to beat back the dark urge to wrap his hands around her slim neck and squeeze until her eyes popped out. He wanted to slam her head through the window and scream that he was not a coward, that he was capable of things she couldn't even imagine.

But he took a deep breath and swallowed back the nausea. "…You're right, Natalie. You're always right."

Just agree and she'll leave me alone…just nod your head and she'll stop talking.

Her harsh frown melted into a smile. "Good boy," she said, patting his cheek. "Even though you're a coward, I love you. Nobody will ever love you like me."

"I know," he said tightly. How? How can you say you love me when you love Ivan more? How can you hurt me like this?

"Now tell me you love me and give me a kiss."

He closed his eyes and bent his head, forced himself to rest his shaking hands gently on her shoulders as he pressed his mouth to her cold cheek. Somehow he managed not to vomit as the stench of vodka, boiled cabbage, and sour vodka invaded his nostrils.

You use to be so beautiful to me, you use to love me and Ivan equally…oh Natalie what happened to you?

Control. This would be the key to his mental survival in her house. Without control…he would end up failing in his quest to ease her insanity.

I hate her…but I can't…I can't leave her alone to suffer…I have to do this for her.

As he escaped her clutches and headed out the front door, a wave of anger shot through him like an electrical current. It curled in his stomach and pulsed through his veins, chasing away the revulsion Natalie's touch had caused.

He would endure it…he had to…even at the cost of his sanity.

Sanity?...How can I save my sanity when I've already lost it?

End.