A/N: When was I EVER so fucked up in Life to write this depressing shit, honestly… Ah well, no flaming please, as usual!
The Swedish man's features, usually inexpressive and one could argue "calm", were now twisted in discomfort, clutching his pillow tightly.
"Su-San! Su-San!" Berwald turned around to face the smaller Finn. "I love you!" Flinging his arms around the other man's neck he placed a soft kiss on his lips, holding him tightly. Breaking away, Berwald looked down at him incredulously, before he gave a small smile, a sight very rare indeed. "I- I love you too, Tino." Gently kissing his forehead, a little thought swam through his mind anyways. "Why the sudden confession?" He questioned himself, before noticing a snickering Arthur and Francis behind a corner, Arthur holding a vial very suspiciously alike the truth serum bottle he'd had earlier. Rolling his eyes, he secretly thanked them dearly.
The small comfort the passing dream had left quickly disappeared as more recent events caught up with the sleeping Swede.
"I don't like the way Ivan's been looking at you recently, Tino." Berwald grumbled, subconsciously shifting closer to the Finn on the couch. "Ivan glares at everyone, Su-San! I bet it's nothing!" Comforted by the other's optimism, Berwald stole a quick kiss from him before getting up to fetch their hot chocolate.
"Nothing, eh?! I swear, next time I see that son of a b-" A quick cough from Tino reminded him of Peter's presence nearby. "But look at what he did to you!" Berwald gestured in rare anger at the large bruise on Tino's face. "He was probably just having a bad day…" Tino hesitantly objected. "That is no excuse for him to punch you in the face just because you trod on his foot!" Tino stayed quiet, lost for words. "You're my wife, and it is my duty to protect you." Berwald insisted softly, pulling the other man closer. For once, Tino didn't object, resting his head happily against the other man's chest.
A muffled sob now escaped the man as horrific memories re-surfaced.
"TINO! TINO! GODDAMMIT, WHERE ARE YOU?!" Even though he himself was bleeding heavily from a wound on his forehead, he slowly made his way through the battlefield, praying that each and every charred, unrecognizable corpse he'd pass wasn't the one of his beloved Finn. An unmistakable laugh suddenly echoed behind him, and he whipped around to see Ivan staring straight into his eyes, face twisted in sick glee, as he kept Tino trapped against the ground with a foot.
"LET HIM GO, YOU BASTARD!" Sprinting towards them, Berwald immediately stopped in his tracks as he saw Ivan take a gun out, pointing it threateningly at Tino. "You shall give Finland up and let him become one with me, and never search for him again. Those are the conditions to let you both live." Ivan stated cruelly, finger twitching on the trigger just to keep the Swede on edge. Berwald found himself in an impossible situation, neither choice would allow his love to be even remotely happy, or alive.
His words echoed in his head: "You're my wife, and it is my duty to protect you." Judging his timing precisely, he suddenly leapt for the Russian and knocked him to the ground before he had a chance to shoot, the gun flying out of his hand. "You really think I'd only carry ONE gun around with me, you fool?" Before Berwald had even had the chance to register his words, a shot rang out followed closely by Tino's cry of pain. Forgetting all about the man, Berwald rushed back to Tino's side, pulling him up into his lap. He noticed with horror how accurate the shot had been, and the torrential amount of blood flowing from Tino's chest. "Tino… You're going to be okay, I promise, just hold on a little longer…" Berwald knew it was a lie, but he couldn't admit that to his beloved wife. "Su…Su-San, it… Hurts…" Tino gasped out, coughing up a little blood. "I know it hurts, but you have to stay strong…"
Gently kissing his blood-speckled lips, he heard Ivan rise up again behind him. Berwald didn't move. "He might as well kill me too, if Tino's gone…" Berwald reasoned silently. A second shot rang out, but instead, the Russian's dead body crumpled to the ground next to the Nordic couple, a perfect hole in his forehead. "Sweden! Finland!" Alfred ran over to them, eyes widening in horror as he caught sight of the dying man. "H-How did you know, America?" Berwald questioned brokenly, still focusing on Tino. "I've got spies everywhere in Russia, man. Never trusted the guy." Alfred explained grimly, calling over a medic from his troops.
Diverting his attention back to Tino, Berwald tried to smile. "America's here, Tino. He's got medics, and you're going to be as right as rain again…" He failed miserably at sounding hopeful. "Su-San… It's- It's useless… It's all going black…" Tino murmured, eyes fluttering closed. "No, NO! Tino! Stay with me!" Berwald ordered, softly shaking him to keep him conscious. "Su-San… Take care of- of Peter… And Hanatamago… And yourself… Please…" Tino whispered, a strange feeling of numbness overcoming him. "Tino…" Berwald sobbed, crying for the first time in centuries. "Remember… I love you…" Tino reminded him, leaning closer. "I'll always love you too, my beautiful wife…" Tino smiled softly, as if agreeing, before his head dropped back and Berwald watched in horror as he stilled.
Letting out a cry of grief, Berwald buried his face into Tino's bloody chest, sobs wracking his body as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He was barely aware of Alfred's retreating footsteps as he left the two alone, unceremoniously dragging Ivan's body behind him.
Another keen of anguish escaping the man, he softly rocked his loved one back and forth, eyes shut tight in a failed attempt to stop the flow of tears. Carefully lifting the other's head, face already paling, he lovingly wiped the blood away from his skin, placing the torn white beret back on his head. "Tino... Please... You were the only one who truly understood me. I'm alone now, don't leave me..." He quietly begged the dead Finn, stroking his cheek with a gloved hand. "If... If you come back to me, I'll try to be a better husband. I- I failed at keeping you safe, Tino, the proof is in my arms right now..." He promised with a shaky voice, knowing it was useless anyways.
Every single nation in the world was present at Tino's funeral. Even Belarus herself looked incredibly ashamed of what her brother had done, and didn't seem to mind his death in the slightest. When asked, she would simply state that is was better like this and walk away.
A few of the nations were allowed to give a brief speech, but one in particular managed to drive most of them to tears. When Berwald stood up, the room immediately fell quiet. Many people still found the Swede extremely intimidating and unnerving. "I-I'm not going to stand here and make a long list of Tino's qualities and how... How absolutely perfect he was. I just want you all to know that Tino was the best thing which ever happened to me, and I thought that I could be truly happy with him. I- I loved him to the point of madness, and I'm certain he felt the same way. I'll always re-re..." Berwald suddenly doubled over, clutching his chest with trembling hands. "SVE!" Jumping up, Mathias was immediately at his side, looking at him worriedly. "Sve, what's wrong?!" The Dane repeated, panicking. "I... Don't think I managed to... To take it so well..." Berwald gasped out through the fits of pain, collapsing onto the floor. "NORGE! CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Mathias yelled at the Norwegian, who immediately hurried off to a quieter place, phone gripped tightly in one hand. "Sve, just take deep breaths, focus on staying calm..." Mathias rolled the man over so that he was on his back.
The distant sounds of a siren echoed through the man's head, slowly getting quieter and quieter before they stopped altogether, darkness swallowing his vision.
That was a month ago. The doctors only recently let Berwald out of the hospital, claiming his condition was "very unstable and risky". Berwald still hasn't forgotten Tino's last words, or his broken promise. But all he feels now is his broken heart.
I will love you to the ends of Hell.
Even if you leave me,
Nothing will ever be able to force us apart,
Until Death closes in on you.
Even then, you'll always be mine,
And I will always be yours,
Even if who you'll leave behind will be,
Beyond repair,
Broken.
A/N: I honestly don't fucking know where I got the inspiration for that poem/thingy at the end there. YESH, AI WROTEZ TAHT. MAY TEH FLAMINGZ BEGINZ.
Ok, serious.
I think this is probably my saddest story yet, and it actually turned out pretty good. As always, R&R and no flames!
BTW, Sve had a heart attack at the funeral.