Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Poland stared with shock and horror. Lithuania was pointing a gun at him. Russia stood beside him, his sick smile on his face. Poland couldn't understand what had gone wrong. He couldn't even understand why Lithuania, his friend, looked ready to kill him.

"Liet," he croaked out quietly. Said nation didn't even twitch. Poland clenched his fists, his face conveying his confusion, his hurt, his denial. "What-what are you doing?"

"Lithuania has become one with Mother Russia," the white-haired nation grinned. He placed a hand on Lithuania's shoulder. "I told him he could take his revenge on you –"

"I, like, totally wasn't talking to you!" Poland spat shakily. Ignoring the gun, he took a step forward. He raised a hand towards his friend. "Liet, this is ridiculous." He tried to sound confident. His quivering voice betrayed him. "S-stop the joking around."

"I am not joking," Lithuania said steadily. "I am tired of the pushing around. With Russia, I am now his equal."

"But you hate Russia!" Poland protested, trying to convince his friend to see sense. He lowered his hand. "You've worked for Russia for a long time! You know he is going to be betraying you!"

"I would never," Russia said, eyes flashing a warning.

Poland glared at the larger nation. "You shut up! This is being all your fault!" His anger fading back to pleading, he turned to his friend. "Liet, Toris, this is insane. Russia brainwashed you. Come back, Toris." He pushed back his tears. It wouldn't do to cry, especially in front of Russia. "Just come back." To me, he left unsaid. Come back to me.

Lithuania smiled, but no longer was it sweet and gentle. This one was twisted and sadistic. Poland recoiled at how Russia it looked. His entire body shook. It couldn't be too late. It just couldn't. How could this have happened? To Lithuania, of all people? How could he have let this happen?

"But I don't want to be going back," Lithuania grinned. His finger twitched on the trigger. "I have something better to be doing."

"Toris –" Poland whispered. He closed his eyes as he heard the gunshot, waiting for the pain to set in.

"Poland," he heard a voice, but shouldn't he be hurting? Or was he already dead? "Poland!" This time, he felt someone shake his arm. With a gasp, he opened his eyes. He was in his bedroom, sitting in his bed, and next to him, concerned, was Toris.

A dream. It was just a dream. Feliks let out a shuddering breath, but almost immediately after, a torrent of tears rushed down his face. Humiliated, Feliks buried his face in a pillow. He felt a hand rub his back.

"I heard you yelling from the guest room," Toris said gently. "You want to talk about it?"

Feliks shook his head, trying to suppress his sobs. A moment later, he started bawling, and pulled Toris into the bed. He buried his face in Toris' chest. Toris hesitated before holding Feliks.

"Don't ever, like, change or anything, okay?" Feliks pleaded.

Toris's arms tightened around him. "I do not plan on it."

"Promise me!" Feliks begged, his voice muffled. He clutched at Toris. "Promise!"

"I promise."