Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or Hetalia: World Series. This is purely fan-made.

Redemption

It wouldn't be long, now.

A shudder ran through his body again. No it wouldn't be long now. He coughed hard and was almost unable to get his breath. Again.

Ever since that day, March 21st 2080, He had not been well. He would never be again. Since that day, three years ago, He had been cooped up in this house. With doctors doting and friends visiting; they all did their best to try to make him happy or comfortable. But there was no getting around it. Ivan was dying.

They always came when they weren't busy running their nations. Everyone except…

*knock, knock, knock*

"C-come in," Ivan managed around another bout of coughing.

"It's me,"

Ivan's amethyst eyes narrowed. 'Well, three years late, he finally shows up.'

"I'm…no, saying sorry doesn't cover it, you probably don't want to hear that anyway."

"You're right I don't," The communist scowled.

"I'm not here for forgiveness, though I wish I could take it back." The blonde haired man sighed as he adjusted his glasses.

"You are the one who messed up, da?" he scoffed. "That's the least you can do…"

"Hear me out, Ivan," he replied quietly. He sat himself on the edge of Ivan's bed. "You know this isn't what I wanted. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. You're one of my best friends. I never wanted this."

"You bombed my country, comrade Alfred!" Ivan scowled. "WHAT DID YOU THINKK WOULD HAPPEN?" Ivan moved to throttle his former friend. He got as far as having his hands on Alfred's shoulders before his plan was thwarted by another round of coughing.

Alfred sighed and pushed his hands away. He reached behind his coughing friend to straighten the pillows so Ivan could sit up straight. He gently pushed Ivan back against them then moved to his bedside table. Ivan could do little more than glare at him.

"You know I'd do anything if it meant you'd be well again. Anything," Alfred sighed as he poured something red into a glass.

"My, my, comrade," Ivan scoffed weakly. "Been talking to Comrade Arthur's 'Imaginary Friends', then?"

"Just take your medicine," Alfred retorted.

Ivan took an experimental sip; distrusting the American. His eyes widened. He raised one eyebrow at the other.

"Don't tell them," Alfred replied with a knowing smile. He indicated the door. "But I really do think this 'medicine' will do you better than theirs." He held up the bottle.

"Vodka," Ivan said simply. He drank some more.

"Your favorite," Alfred replied sheepishly. "I know it can't even begin to make up for—"

"OH, COMRADE ALFRED!" Ivan squealed in delight throwing his arms around the American's neck. "Oh, Nyet! YOU DO CARE!"

Alfred chuckled softly as Ivan sat back and drained the glass; silently begging for more.

Ivan drank it willingly. One of the things the doctors never let him have anymore; Vodka, he missed his vodka.

The fiery taste of the famous Russian brew, the way it made him feel all warm and fuzzy and the sheer fact that he was denied it made him want to drink it all night long!

He stopped halfway through his third glass. "But why are you doing this?"

" Because I messed up." He replied lamely.

"You should have come years ago. I'm almost gone now, comrade. Nyet, even this brew of the Gods," He gestured grandly to the bottle in Alfred's hands. "Even this cannot heal me."

"I wanted to come sooner," He replied.

"Why didn't you then?" Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Because…I was…well, incarcerated…" Alfred admitted embarrassedly. He ran one hand over the back of his head.

"Incarcerated? Pfft, you? Nyet. That is impossible I think."

"I tried to stop hem. I told them it was stupid." Alfred Sighed then growled. "Who would come up with such a hare-brained idea anyway?"

"You might."

"Not this." He laid a hand on Ivan shoulder. "I couldn't bomb Russia, never."

"Why not?" Ivan rolled his eyes. "You all certainly bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki so well."

"Cause my best friend lives in Russia." Albert smiled.

"Nyet, You are still a sentimental old fool, Alfred," Ivan sighed happily. "You'll never take over the world at this rate."

"I don't want to take over the world," Alfred replied.

"What do you want?" Ivan asked?

"For one, I want you to get better,"

"Can't you just be happy I made it this far?" Russia sighed. "They didn't expect me to, I guess, I've been waiting on something." He motioned for a refill.

"You've never let anyone stop you before not even your sister,"

"Ah, well, the price of obstinacy I guess," He drank deeply.

"I should have tried harder."

"You did your best,"

"It wasn't enough!"

"it was fine,"

"You're DYING!"

"Everyone has to at some point."

"I wasn't there for you!" Alfred screamed.

"Hey, at least you are here now," Ivan replied as he place a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "I think…it's better this way."

"What?"

"I don't want to go out alone," Ivan replied. "I mean, I guess no matter who surrounds you, you're still alone in the end but…" He sighed and laid himself down again. Alfred covered him with his comforter. "It makes me feel better that my best friend is here now, too."

"Oh, God, Ivan, Hang on!" Albert managed softly. "I'll get a doctor!I—"

"Nyet, It would be a waste of time. I don't need one now. I have all I need." He blinked and smiled at his friend. "I'm sorry I was so mad at you, And I forgive you. After all, you yourself didn't drop the bomb on me."

"please, no…" Alfred cried. He was surprised as hot, stinging, tears streamed his face. "Ivan!"

"Stop, It's fine," Ivan sighed with a bemused smile. He wiped the tears away with his hand. Albert took it between both of his. "I feel better, now that we're friends again."

"Ivan…"

"Shhh…stop, I'm tired, comrade Alfred. I wish for nothing more than to sleep now," He assured. Closing his amethyst colored eyes. "I'm sure you'll still be here when I wake up."

"Ivan,"

"Goodnight, Alfred."

"Goodnight," Alfred managed. Those amethyst eyes never opened again.