A/N:
I DO NOT OWN HETALIA AS MUCH AS I TRULLY WISH I DID! Aaaaanywaay, I hope you enjoy my story! ^w^
Ivan was lost. He was freezing and blizzard ice was cutting into his skin as he trudged through the deep banks of snow. His coat was thread bare and his scarf was tattered. The twenty something Russian coughed harshly, the winter cold stinging his raw throat. Ivan fell to his knees as he looked at the dark stains on his gloves. Blood. He was coughing up blood. "Help!" he called hoarsely. "Someone please help!" The sick Russian's eyesight went even foggier as he looked around in the Siberian blizzard. A large, dark figure walking towards him was the last thing Ivan saw before he blacked out.
Gasping, Ivan's eyes flashed open and he looked around wildly. He noticed that he was in a warm cabin, in a warm bed, with someone even warmer than both pressed to his back, arms wrapped around the white haired Russian. Ivan relaxed for a moment before his body was racked with horrendous coughing. The man holding him pulled away and sat up. "Well, privet Ivan." The thick Russian accent was welcomed to Ivan; however, the rumbling voice it was melded with was not. "G-General Winter…" Ivan rasped. Winter stood and grabbed a long, thick scarf. "Since you are awake, get on the floor, da." The violet eyed Russian weakly climbed out of the warm cocoon of blankets, dreading what was to come. "You didn't finish the simple task I assigned you. Time for punishment." The growling brute of a man stated as he tied the scarf around Ivan's eyes, throat, and around his wrists.
Ivan choked as he was repeatedly hit in the stomach. It was draining him to keep from jerking, since every time he did so, he strangled himself. "You-good-for-nothing-brat. Worthless-soldier." Winter growled, speech broken as he hit the weak, white haired Russian kneeling before him. Suddenly, a hit stronger than any other met Ivan's bruised abdomen. Choking, gagging, and unintentionally strangling himself, the violet eyed Russian keeled over in pain. "Can't even take-" Winter started to say when suddenly, a ringing smack was heard and General Winter hit the floor, the clanging of a metal object falling with him. Ivan, who finally was able to sit up enough so he could breathe, was shaking softly.
Gentle hands were untying Ivan. As his hands fell free of the scarf, he fell onto all fours and coughed harshly, blood beginning to stain his lips again. Someone of small stature helped him into the bed again and shakily covered him. Gasping gently, his eyes fluttered open and met the wide, green ones of a small fourteen year-old boy. The boy was shaking softly, as if he was scared, or cold. After a moment of watching each other, the teen began to move around and get things to take care of the sick Russian. "M-may I a-ask your name s-sir?" the boy asked in a shaking Latvian accent. The violet eyed Russian choked out, "I-Ivan." Giving a small smile as he walked back over, he stated, "I'm R-Raivis. Nice t-to meet you…" Dipping a cloth into a bowl of water, the Latvian began to help the sick Russian to heal and breathe.
Ivan was beginning to notice different things about the Latvian, Raivis. He noticed how he had bruises, from Winter obviously, the way he had more strength in his small body than one would think, proven by how he had the abusive general dragged out soon after he was done helping Ivan, and how he always had a smile to share. Ivan had a smile gracing his lips as he thought about this, actually sitting up and breathing normally for the first time in weeks. "A-are you h-hungry Mr. Ivan?" Raivis asked, holding an empty bowl next to a pot of fresh Borscht. Coming out of his reverie, the white haired Russian nodded. Raivis smiled. Good, he's starting to eat more. He thought. Dipping up the dish, he walked over to Ivan. "Thank you Raivis." The white haired male stated with a smile as he took the bowl. The Latvian teen's heart swelled with happiness, glad that he was the one who brought that smile to the Russian's lips.
"Raivis. I give up. I can't find you." Ivan chuckled. This was their fifth round of hide and seek since the white haired Russian was deemed well enough to get up and move around. Giggling came from a small cupboard as Raivis crawled out. "T-that make's three o-out of five, Mr. I-Ivan." The small Latvian said with a yawn. Smiling, Ivan stated, "Looks like it's time for bed, da." Raivis quickly kicked of his shoes and pulled back the blankets. Curling up, he waited for Ivan to finish stoking the fire and making sure all the window and door cracks were sealed. Ivan crawled in next to the Latvian teen and pulled the thick wool, fur, and fleece blankets over them. "Goodnight Raivis." Ivan said. "Lullaby?" Raivis questioned with another yawn. Ivan smiled. "Alright." He replied and he began his Russian Lullaby.
Ivan slowly got up and tucked Raivis into the mountain of blankets. I shall make breakfast today. He needs sleep, da. The Russian thought to himself as he began to cook. Half an hour later, as Ivan was putting the last bit of the meal together, a sleepy Latvian walked in, still swathed in a fleece blanket like it was a cape. "Good morning Mr. Ivan." Raivis greeted, rubbing the last remnants of sleep out of his green eyes. "Good morning Raivis. You slept well, da?" Ivan asked as he handed Raivis a plate. "Very. Thank you for breakfast." Both sat down to breakfast and ate in a comfortable silence. After a few moments, knocking was heard on the door. "I will get it." Ivan said as he stood. Grabbing his coat, the white haired male unlocked the door. Standing there, frame covered in snow, was General Winter.
"Where is that Latvian brat!" the angry Russian snarled to Ivan. Glaring, the white haired Russian growled, "Not here. He ran away." "LIAR! I know he is, I just heard him!" Winter bellowed, shoving past him. "Raivis, hide!" Ivan yelled as he tackled the red faced Russian. The Latvian hid in a closet that locked from the inside. A fight ensued between the two Russian men. Ivan grabbed a pipe and used it to deflect hits from Winter. Suddenly, two shots rang out. Ivan coughed and almost fell to the ground. Almost. The raging violet eyed man spun the pipe expertly in his hand and began to beat the General. Even after the opposing Russian was down and dead, Ivan delivered three skull crushing blows before dropping the bloodied pipe. Blood dribbled down his chin as he went to the closet where Raivis was hiding. He noticed a bullet hole in the door. Practically ripping the door off of its hinges, Ivan looked at a heart breaking scene.
Raivis was holding a hand over his stomach, a pool of blood forming beneath him as he coughed and struggled to breathe. Coughing with him, Ivan kneeled down, holding his own side, and pulled Raivis into his lap. "M-Mr. I-Ivan…" Raivis choked. "P-please s-sing you-your lullaby…" "Choking softly from blood and forced back tears, Ivan began to sing. "Let no wind drown my words, no cold block my hugs. I am here, your family dear, so close your eyes, and dream of warm blue skies. Let the petals of sunflowers tickle your face as you lay in their fields. Allow no one to stop your dreams, as you go through life with a smile. I hold you now, close to my heart, so sleep my sweet, and know that when morning comes, I will be here." Ivan's last few words fell onto the cold wind as he laid down, Raivis's body still clutched in his arms as he slipped away.