AN: Brat- (pronounced like the beginning of bratwurst)= Brother. Брат

syestra= Sister. сестра

Beginnings Start With Goodbye

Ivan sat at the table, a bottle of vodka in his hands. He sat still, pouring himself drink after drink, swallowing the potent liquid without really tasting any of it. It slithered down his throat, warming him, numbing the cold and all feeling. That's why he was drowning himself, to stop the pain that threatened to consumed him.

"Brat?"

The Russian did not look up immediately, but sat still, closed his eyes tightly, willing the voice to not be real. But he knew that there was really someone there. He was not drunk enough to be imagining voices yet. How very unfortunate.

"Brat?" the other spoke again, voice soft.

Slowing, Ivan looked up, his signature smile resting lightly on his lips as she stared up into watering blue green eyes. "Da, syestra? What is it?" he asked, his smile grew sweeter as he looked at her face.

Iryna's eyes were filled with tears as she looked down at her younger brother, sitting there calmly in his old Soviet uniform. There were still blood stains on the coat, stains that would not come out no matter how many times she had washed it, stains that always reminded her of the bad times, the hard times when things had looked so very dark. A tear slid past her guard as she stood regarding the man before her.

"I…" the Ukrainian faltered. She wasn't sure she could do this, but she had to, for her people. "I'm leaving, brat."

"Oh?" Ivan cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. "When will you be back, syestra?"

As Iryna looked down at her brother, she couldn't help a wave of sorrow that overcame her. Forever smiling that insane, crippling smile of his, trying hard to cover the misery and emptiness behind a mask of calm simplicity. But tears sparkled in those beautiful amethyst eyes of his, reflecting grief.

Where had the little boy that she remembered from long ago gone? When had the little Russia she had adored left? When had he been replaced with this overpowering nation? He'd once been such a sweet, innocent child, one that liked to walk through the forests and sit in the sunshine of the open fields. But that little boy, had been gone for a very long time, crushed, kicked, harassed until finally he had become broken. But he had also become a strong, intimidating nation that stepped on anyone that opposed him, dominating them, forcing them under his control, smothering the life out of everyone he came in contact with.

It had been so hard to watch her brother slowly lose his mind, but what could she do? Ivan had grown into such a large, powerful nation that he could overwhelm without even trying very hard. There were only a few men in the world that could control Ivan at any given time, but those that did broke the mighty empire, beat him into submission until he was forced to do their bidding. He had always been ruled over harshly, abused and mistreated, and it broke Iryna's sensitive heart. He had been ill-treated for so long that he actually became used to it…he expected it!

In the end, as Iryna stood staring at her little brother, she saw not the mighty Russia, not the insane killer that everyone believed him to be. She did not see a monster, a madman, a murderer. What she saw as a sad, abused boy, trying desperately to hide his pain behind his mask of tranquility. He might have truly lost his mind, but he was also truly suffering.

With hot tears streaming down her cheeks, Iryna took a deep breath and said the hardest thing she had ever said in her life. "I'm leaving and…and I'm never coming back."

Her words were like a knife and they hit Ivan's heart. The moment those deadly lexis left her mouth was the moment that the Russian went down. The smile melted from his cold lips and the damn burst free from his eyes. His shoulders sagged and he crumpled completely, burying his face in his hands, trying desperately to hide his shame, his sadness.

Seeing the other nation break so completely was too much for the Ukrainian and she ran towards the brother that she loved. Without fearing for herself, without a single worry of Ivan taking his pain out on her, she through her arms around him and held him close. It never occurred to her to think it strange when he wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her chest much like a young child would. Iryna began rocking her little brother back and forth, ever the consoling mother.

"Hush, brat," she whispered, willing her voice to stay strong, despite her own tears. "Hush. It will be well," she cooed.

"Nyet!" he sobbed. "No, it will not! Y-you're leaving me!" he cried, hugging his sister closer to him.

Iryna began crying harder as well. This was the toughest thing she had ever had to do. It hurt, it hurt so bad to see Ivan like this, to know that he was falling apart, weakening, and knowing that she was partly to blame for it. While it had not been particularly pleasant living as part of the Soviet Union, personally, she had not minded quite so much. While Ivan had ruled over everyone with an iron fist, she did not hold a grudge against him. He was being abused himself and his mind was ill. In many ways he was almost like a child, one that was hurt and needed to be taken care of, needed someone there for him.

"I-I'm so sorry," she whispered, hugging her brother closer to her. "Please believe me, my sweet."

The two siblings stay that way, hugging on to one another, neither one really knowing how long it really was. It seemed like hours, but all too soon, they both pulled away from one another. Seeing heartbroken amethyst eyes was just about enough to make Iryna change her mind. She did not want to leave her dear brother, but at the same time the Soviet Union was harming her. She had a chance to get out, builder herself up again, and she needed this chance. What if Russia decided to close his fists again?

The bigger nation stood up, towering over his sister, his purple eyes still fresh with tears, his face grim. "You should go now." His words came out in a bitter whisper, but it did not hold loathing or distain for the other. It sounded more like fact.

Iryna began furiously wiping her eyes, feeling as though she had committed a great sin by wounding her brother so. "I…I am sorry," she pleaded. "I just—"

"Leave!" Ivan screamed, picking up his vodka bottle and throwing it across the room. It smashed into thousands of pieces causing a great crash that seemed to echo through the sparely clad room.

Frightened, the Ukrainian backed away from the enraged nation. She knew she deserved to be yelled at, but she also could not help feeling hurt all the same. Her eyes flickered down to stare at the blood that forever stained the great uniform her brother wore before she looked back into his intoxicated eyes.

Seeing such terror on his sister's face, knowing that he was the cause of it, made Ivan stop. He froze in place and simply watched as Iryna slowly backed away from him, much like one would a dangerous animal. Next to him, she looked a child and he was the hungry bear ready to devour her.

Realization struck Ivan, clearing away the fog of insanity and inebriation. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he was able to think clearly, he was able to see what was really happening around him. There was no one whispering deceit into his ears, no one beating him until he complied with their wishes, there was no lying to himself, not doubts, there was nothing there but simple truth.

…And it hurt. It hurt so bad to see such fear and understand for the first time in years that he was the cause of it; to fully understand that what he was doing was bad. It had been so long since he had truly felt remorse for his actions; he had never had the time or the freedom to do so. For almost all of his life, Ivan was told to obey, to act a certain way, to comply with the wishes of his rulers. He was the servant, the slave, it was never his position or right to question their rule. If he was ordered to kill, then he was to kill, who was he to even question if said victims were guilty of a crime or not?

With this new found sanity, this revelation, Ivan gasped and stumbled back away from his beloved sister. It was as though he had fallen into icy water, all of the air from his lungs pushed out of him. He was suddenly afraid, horrified, consumed in despair. For the first time he recalled his cruelty towards his sister, how he hurt her, made her cry…had even drawn blood…He stumbled back away from the Ukrainian and fell to the floor, gawking up at her.

"Ivan!" Iryna cried and hurried back to her brother's side. Once again, her concern outweighed any fear.

Seeing her alarm hurt the suffering Soviet Russia even more and he began to weep. "No," he struggled away from her, unable to stand her gentle touch. It burned him; he felt so guilty. "No, please."

"Let me help you," she tried once more to hold her brother in comforting arms.

"No!" he cried, pushing her hands away.

They locked eyes, cyan met amethyst as they simply stared at one another. They were both suffering, feeling guilty for hurting the other. Neither one was innocent, past or present, but neither one had ever truly meant to harm the other. But now, there they were, both sitting on the floor, wretchedly wondering how it had all come to this.

"Please…just go," Ivan said gently. "I can't…I won't stop you, syestra."

Iryna began crying again. It was both from joy and sorrow. It was the first time she had seen her brother without the look of insanity for quite some time. Was he finally getting better? But why did it have to be when she had to leave?

"I'm so sorry, brat!" she took his hand in hers before he had time to move away. "Please know that I am truly very sorry."

Ivan bit his lower lip to keep himself from crying again. "I do not blame you," he whispered. "I…I'm sorry…for everything I've done to you."

Smiling, Iryna pulled her brother into another fierce hug and just held him. Slowly, Ivan hugged her back as well. Reconciliation settled between the siblings and even though they knew the times before them would be hard, at least they could never doubt their love for one another. Times would be hard, yes, but they were used to that. They had hardened themselves and could survive anything.

After another few minutes, Ivan released his sister and stood up. He helped Iryna to her feet and held her hand as he walked her to the door, picking up her suitcase on the way. Once to the door, he paused and looked down at his older sister. "Goodbye." He kissed her forehead. "Good luck."

The Ukrainian smiled up at him weakly taking her bag which contained her precious few items. "Goodbye, Ivan." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll miss you."

"If you ever need anything…" he trailed off, knowing he should not make any promises, but not really caring all the same.

"You are so very good," Iryna touched his cheek fondly. "Well…" she looked out the door and into the wide world that lay before her. She was scared to go, but she knew that it was the right thing to do, and knowing that she still had her brother's love comforted her. "Goodbye, Ivan. Take care of yourself."

With that, the two were forced to let go of each other's hands and silently the Russian watched his sister walk out the door, out of his home, out of his life. He was not sure if he would ever get the chance to see her, if he would ever be allowed to talk to her again, but he knew he had her love.

A sad smile formed on his lips as continued his watch. A peace settled over Ivan, a peace he could not recall ever having felt before. He found himself freer than he had ever been, free of insanity, of the anguish. He was guilty of many things, had hurt so many people, many nations, but he was taking his first steps to making amends, wasn't he? He had let them go, slowly, one by one, all of his satellite nations were leaving him, but he could not help but be happy for them. They were free now too; free to rebuild themselves, free to live in peace.

Ivan watched Iryna go until he could no longer see her anymore. She had never looked back and he had not expected her to. He understood that it would've been harder for her to keep going that way, and he could not help but be proud of her.

Turning to go back into the house, Russia went and sat down at the kitchen table. He stared down at his empty glass, but pushed it aside. Perhaps it was time to move on and look to a better future, one where he could be free, where he could finally be at peace.

Author's Note: I'm finished with my finals! Hurray! And to celebrate, I wrote this…which is weird because it's actually kinda sad… :I Hmm…I don't really have an explanation for it except that I love Russia. ^^ And I'm still not sure there's an "official" name for Ukraine, so I gave her a Ukrainian name. It means "peace".

Russian (basics): Брат- brat (pronounced like the beginning of bratwurst)- Brother

сестра –syestra- Sister

History: Ukraine formally regained its independence in 1991. Soviet Russia collapsed and became the Russian Federation in 1991 as well. The dissolution of the USSR spread like wildfire, the satellite states all leaving one after the other with Gorbachev's new, freer policies. (You should really look this up, it's interesting.)

Thanks for reading! Reviews would be lovely, let me know what you think. Thanks! :D