Her sister was the first to discover them. Red marks, bruises, fading around the edge covering her upper back. The first time, she froze, and with a sudden ferocity, demanded, "Who?" as if she already knew- but Natalia knew how much Katya wanted to believe that brother would never do that.

Natalia looked, blinked slightly- it was so alien to her, Sister's impulse of rage – so fresh, so real. It set her off. She told her, and Katya's rage mixed with shock and a sadness that hurt so much to see.

"Why did you let him?"

"I had to." You don't understand, Sister. I must allow Brother to do anything he wishes to me. It is not in my place to—

"No." Firm, strength sounds in her voice. The rage turned into somewhat calm anger. "You did not."

Natalia does not like to argue with her sister. She does not like to argue at all. But sister never understands. Never sees Brother like she does. Natalia says nothing.

Katya's hands would tap them gently, the fading bruises; warm against Natalia's pale back. "They will heal," Natalia reassured her, unsure if she was lying to them both or truly believed that. She does not say, Brother only hits where he hasn't already.

"How can you still desire his touches so much?"

"You know why."

"Yes, Belarus." A sigh. "Yes, I do."

----

"Yes, brother," and "Yes, I will," Natalia repeats, again and again, to his endless stream of questions. Anything brother says. Always. Just to make him happy; if he will smile, she will. If he wants her to kill, to hurt, to do the last thing she wants to do, she will. Because he knows best, and he always (almost, almost--) does it for the best, means well, and because the end result is worth the risks and means.

"And will you, when I tell you, take the knife - and strike it here?" Ivan tells her, points towards where his heart is- the smile does not move, and the glint in his eyes does not change. "And won't stop stabbing, until I die?"

(Natalia cannot feel anything but the shiver of her hands and the knife handle's cold in her palm.)

He lips merely part because she cannot ever say "no" to her brother.

"I cannot." She can feel it, shaking, trembling, leaking through her and burning cracks through the mask that is forever stuck with her. Holding her breath, she feels something like a calm before the storm. Fear, if only had it not been so familiar to her. Her reluctant friend. And the bruises on her back- they start to burn again, at the memory of Ivan's destructive, pained rage. "I would rather kill myself that ever hurt Brother." Yes, that is much better.

"Ah? No, please, do not. If you die, Belarus, I would be very, very unhappy." It's that other smile again, a mocking imitation of a once real expression. His serenity- it terrifies her as much as it fury, and is better than it at the same time. Because it is not eternally destructive.

"Yes, of course." It surprises her- to see in his eyes, that contradict his darkly amused smile, that he honestly means it. To see that and how much she means to him. After everything. "But even if I try..." she hesitates- "I won't-" -searches for the right term because she cannot say it."You cannot die by that alone, right?"

She,(maybe, probably) should not have sad that, because she had learned to recognize it, the sadness in his smile, and feels it in the deep pits in her chest and it stings inside her. Something, yes, like pain, or worse. "Yes, I can, someday. I am not like China. It would be nice, of course, to not die, I rather like life. Yes, I like it very much."

(I rather like life.) And now so does she. "And that is why, Natasha-" Is that a slip, or-? "I want you to be the one who will kill me."

(With this knife? Yes, with this knife.)

"Do you think you can do that?"

(But- you didn't give it to me just for that, did you? A gift. You said it was your gift to me.)

And Natalia parts her lips again, stands, hushed. She can only look at his eyes, wonder what he wants her to say. (a choice - her will, or her brother's satisfaction?) And chooses her own will. Slowly, against the insistence of the pounding beat rising in her, trembling, taking away any words from her partly open mouth, she shakes her head, and does not dare to look away from brother's face and the glint in his eyes. And it finally relaxes when nothing changes in his face. If only had she been so good at seeing those things.

"I'm sorry, brother." She whispers and does not know if she should have said that or not.

"Now, do not be. But please tell me when you are ready to do that."

"Why?" She says, with vague surprise in her voice- nothing like what she is feeling.

"Because when you are capable of that, you'll be able to do anything. That would make me very happy. I want you to be strong, sister." Ivan says, and—leans below, strong, big, and his lips faintly press her hair, and it turns into a quick kiss. A bright rush rises inside her and she wants to melt into his arms and tell him how much it means to her and how happy she is right now and she might as well—

"Would you smile for me, Belarus?"

"Smile-?" And that feeling, it cracks the silence of her voice, the cheer that runs inside her- she can hear it in that one word.

"Why not? It is a beautiful day, after all." Ivan laughs and opens the windows. And Natalia smiles- for him, and because she wants to.

----

"May I ask you something, sister? Do you fear me?"

"No," says Natalia because there is nothing else that she can possibly ever say to him. Ivan takes one look at her eyes, and whispers to himself, "I see." In such a soft, casual tone, that it hurts to hear it while looking at the sadness in his smile. Ivan, oh Ivan.

----

"I want to marry you, brother." Natalia says for the first time. Ivan twists his lips in a hazy smile.

"Marriage? Now why would you want that?"

"Brother! Isn't it obvious?" Lets her frustrations release; she can't remember the last time she spoke her mind so much towards him. "Because I love you. Because I want to be with you forever. So you can be happy. And because-" And she stops herself from saying, because there is nobody else who wants to be with you as much as I do. "-I want to be your special person."

"Your loyalty makes me very happy, sister. But I cannot do that."

The silent afternoon cold that buries Natalia knee-deep, freezes her every time she stands under brother as though she's kneeling at the feet of the king, is hushed and deep around them. "After all, I want you to be happy, too."

"Nothing would make me happier than being with you, brother!" A desperate note leaks into her voice. "I want to stay with you. Please-"

Before she can say anything else, Ivan walks through it all and places his gloved hand on the fresh red bruise on the back of her neck. "No, sister. This is the least of what I can do to hurt people. I do not want you to suffer. Should you marry me, it will be inevitable that you will."

She knows. Dear god, how she knows. But isn't there anyone who can understand? "But I'll still be happy to be married to you and…and I'll take anything for you."

"Do you not think you've sacrificed enough? And not to mention this."

"There is not a limit to what I'll go through for you."

Ivan just shakes his head and again, tells her, "No. You see, I love you too. That's why I cannot do this to you."

His hand softly takes a strand of her hair. Before he can completely remove it, Natalia holds it with her own hands- one of his, large enough to crush two of her hands inside. Dirty, dirty hands, which spilled so much blood- she can see it under the dark fabric of his glove that she cannot feel his skin through.

And yet, they are Ivan's hands, cold and warm with the distant smell of blood, when he allows her to take the glove off, and to touch them like she always wanted.

----

During their first night together, Katya discovered Natalia's bruises for the first time. And now, more than thirty years later and perhaps much more than that, they turned into slow fading scars.

When Katya plants a kiss on Natalia's forehead, and takes all the clothing off her back to check, and sees the scars- she lets out a light smile until she sees one remaining light-red bruise right under her neck.

"From how long ago--?"

"When I last saw Brother." Natalia whispers. She feels Katya wrap her arms around her, carefully avoiding the almost-fresh bruise, and hears a warm-voiced whisper in her ear. Natalia smiles, and with hesitation, asks her what has been lingering at the edge of her lips for their last several nights together.

"Yes-- We're going to see him again soon," Katya answers with the warmness in her voice faded. "Natalia?"

"Yes?"

"He's not going to hurt you. Not," kisses her again, "when I'm around."