So, here is the other one-shot I was working on. Again, special thanks to Midna3452 for beta reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Lithuania had a hobby that not many people knew about. He loved gardening.
Living in Russia's house left him with little time and fewer luxuries, but Russia always allowed him this one small solace, as long as he included a few sunflowers in this little garden.
The flowers were grown inside a greenhouse that Russia had on his property, since the frigid temperatures would prevent them from growing outside.
Even though he loved all flowers, Lithuania's favorite was the rue flower.
"Litva, what did I tell you about going into my room?" asked Russia, his voice low and dangerous. Lithuania stared up at the man, shaking.
"I-I'm sorry sir, but you told me to clean the entire house." Russia knelt down to his level, as if he were talking to a small child.
"You know I meant everywhere except my room. You are to not go there under any circumstances." He stood up to his full height, a terrifying presence.
"It won't happen again, I swear! It was stupid and I'm sorry." He was shaking worse than he could remember in a long time. In the background, Estonia and Latvia were shaking as well, afraid for him or themselves, he couldn't tell.
Lithuania carefully filled each pot with various flowers. This year he decided on blue cornflowers, daisies, rue flowers, and of course, the obligatory sunflowers. He gave them each just enough water, and made sure they would get all of the sunlight they deserve. There were few things that gave him peace like gardening.
After he was finished, his fingernails were caked with dirt. He made a mental note to buy some gloves for next time.
He heard a faint voice yelling his name and with a sigh, he put on his coat and pulled it tight against his body before leaving the warmth of the greenhouse for the cold Russian weather.
Russia looked down at the Lithuanian with his eyes full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, but I can't let this go, my dear Litva. One of my bottles of vodka has gone missing." Lithuania could hear a small squeak from Latvia.
"I-I didn't take your vodka, sir. You know I would never steal from you!" Lithuania exclaimed, his eyes full of fear.
"If you didn't take it, then who did?" Russia asked, and then turned to the other two Baltics.
"Did either of you go into my room?" Estonia just stood there, shaking, terrified and unsure on what to do. Latvia looked like he was about to burst into tears.
"Well?" Russia prompted after a few minutes, his patience waning. They both jumped. Finally Latvia spoke.
"N-no, Mr. Russia, I never went into your room." He shrank away from the larger man, and hid behind Estonia.
Russia turned back to Lithuania. "I'm very disappointed in you Litva, not only taking what isn't yours but lying right to my face." He let out a sad sigh. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
Lithuania smiled. All of his flowers were growing exceptionally well this year. They seemed to grow up right before his very eyes. Very soon they would begin to blossom.
He carefully sprinkled water over each and every pot, making sure to not give too little or too much.
He had been meticulous about making sure they were taken care of and got everything they needed, and was happy to see how his hard work was paying off.
He could hardly wait until they were ready.
Lithuania groaned as he slowly walked into the bathroom. He winced when he saw his bloodied and injured back in the mirror. He looked almost as bad as he felt.
The beating he received a few hours ago had been far worse than normal. But the worst part of was that it was for something that wasn't even his fault. He would never be stupid enough to steal from Russia, much less his vodka. He didn't have a death wish.
He grabbed an old rag that looked somewhat clean, and soaked it in soap and water before carefully cleaning off the blood. As he was tending to his wounds he wondered how he was going to hide them from Estonia and Latvia. Then a thought occurred to him.
Why should he bother?
They weren't stupid, they knew what was going on. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Latvia who stole the vodka in the first place.
He just stood there, knowing it was his fault... he could save me, but instead he did nothing and let me take his punishment, Lithuania thought. Resentment began to overflow his entire being.
Lithuania looked over the little garden and admired his handiwork. Each of the flowers were in full bloom. Just like snowflakes, no two flowers were exactly the same. One might have more petals, another a slightly more vibrant color, but they were all beautiful in their own way.
He took off one of his gloves to feel the petals. They were soft as silk against his rough, calloused hands. He breathed in the air, filled with the beautiful scent of the flowers that surrounded him.
They smelled like the spring that would never come.
Lithuania made his way to the bedroom he shared with the other two Baltics. When they noticed his presence, they both fell silent. He wondered if it was because they felt guilty, but he didn't really care.
He removed his dirty, worn out work shirt and replaced it with his comparatively comfortable pajama shirt. As he did, he heard two shocked gasps behind him, and knew Estonia and Latvia saw the wounds on his back. He couldn't help but feel somewhat satisfied by their reaction.
When he turned to face them, Estonia excused himself for the bathroom, leaving Latvia staring at him in shock, his eyes filled with tears.
Lithuania was at the store getting a few things for Russia. He picked up some vodka, bread, potatoes, carrots, and fish to make borsch soup later, which is what Russia requested. He stopped when he saw a beautiful vase made of glass. The flowers were almost ready, and he would love to find a place for them in the house. Thinking Russia wouldn't mind too much, he decided to get three.
The next day, Lithuania was working in the greenhouse, mostly cleaning. He took his shirt off, as he sometimes did when the heat got too unbearable. To most people, the temperature would only feel slightly warm. However, for Lithuania, who was used to the freezing temperatures of Russia, it felt like an oven, especially today.
As he was busy sweeping the floor, he heard the door open behind him and something fall to the ground. When he turned around to see who it was, he saw Latvia, who seemed to be frozen in place. What used to be a bowl of soup was broken and spilled onto his shoes.
"What are you doing here?" asked Lithuania. This was his special place, the only place he got completely to himself. And Latvia especially, was not welcome. Not after what he did.
Latvia was silent for a minute before he burst into tears. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "This is all my fault!" Still sobbing, Latvia went over to hug the Lithuanian, who brushed him off.
"Yes, it is," Lithuania said in a bitter tone. "You shouldn't be here, get out." Latvia stared back at him, eyes wide with shock and hurt.
"I-I'm sorry," he said again. He looked down at the soup that was now broken and on the floor. "That was supposed to be for you, to apologize for yesterday."
Lithuania let out a bitter laugh.
"Why?" Lithuania asked. "It's going to happen again, we both know it. You just can't stop ruining everything you touch." He pointed down at the soup that he would most likely have to clean up now to make his point.
Latvia started crying again. "I'm sorry," he said for a third time. "I-I don't know why I lied. I was scared, and I-"
Lithuania had enough. Rage filled his entire being. He lied because he was scared? He didn't even know what true fear was. Before he could hear another word come out of his mouth, he picked up a nearby shovel and hit the smaller nation as hard as he could, causing Latvia to let out a pained yelp, and fall to the ground. He lied there on the floor, cold blank eyes staring up to the heavens.
Well, at least now it was quiet.
Lithuania carefully clipped the daisies from their stems and put them into one of the vases. He made his way back to the mansion and filled it with water before putting them on display. Yes, they certainly added something to the room. An aura of innocence, or maybe normalcy, to the cold, dark mansion.
He didn't think Russia would mind if he added a few flowers here and there in the house. He was thrilled when he heard Lithuania wanted to start a garden. Sunflowers were his favorite, but he loved anything that reminded him of warmth.
Lithuania entered his bedroom, sullen and tired. Estonia was playing with a loose string on his pajama shirt sleeve when he noticed Lithuania come in. He looked up at him with eyes full of worry.
"Do you know where Latvia is?" he asked. "The last time I saw him was when he said he was going to see you to… to apologize for yesterday." Lithuania shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. I never saw him," said Lithuania in a bored tone. This however only made Estonia more nervous.
"You don't think… no, the only one Russia ever takes to the basement is…" he stopped himself and gave Lithuania a guilty look.
"Like I said, I don't know, and I don't care." Lithuania said with an edge in his voice. Estonia stared at him in shock.
"How can you say that? Don't you care if he gets hurt? You're not mad at him for yesterday, are you?" Lithuania rolled his eyes.
"No, why would I be mad at him for letting Russia beat me within an inch of my life?" he retorted sarcastically. He let out a laugh full of bitterness and hatred, and Estonia shrank back a little.
"What has gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?" Estonia asked, a hint of fear in his voice.
"You know," said Lithuania, ignoring Estonia's question, "You could have spoken up, told Russia the truth. But you didn't. You didn't do anything, just like always."
Estonia looked like he had just been slapped. "I-I thought that's what you would have wanted. You always protected Latvia before."
"I really wish you would stop talking about Latvia," said Lithuania, frustration in his tone.
Estonia's eyes widened in realization. "You did something to him, didn't you?" When Lithuania didn't answer, Estonia started sobbing.
"I-Is he dead?" he asked in a barely audible whisper. Lithuania sighed.
"I really wish you could've just let this go." He grabbed his pillow and pulled it over Estonia's face. While Estonia may have been taller, Lithuania was stronger and was able to hold the pillow in place. Estonia thrashed and kicked for a few minutes, his screams muffled with the pillow, until he was completely still.
Just then, Russia burst into the room.
Lithuania put the vase of blue cornflowers on the table next to the bed. Blue had always been one of his favorite colors, second only to green, and they gave a nice pop of color to an otherwise drab room.
He had never been much into interior design; that had always been more Poland's thing. But he could still appreciate beauty when he saw it. He loved how the sharp points of the petals contrasted with the soft, deep blue.
Then again, he thought, having such a pretty flower in a place like this was a contrast in itself.
Russia stared at the scene in front of him for awhile. When he heard shouting and crying coming from the Baltics' bedroom, he got up to see what was going on. And he saw the last thing he could have expected. Lithuania was holding a pillow over Estonia's face, who laid there completely motionless. Lithuania was staring back at him eyes wide in shock of being caught. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Lithuania killed Estonia.
No, that's not right, thought Russia. This must be some misunderstanding. Little Litva couldn't be killing anyone.
But the look on Lithuania's face told him otherwise. Before he knew it, Lithuania pushed past him and ran out like a speeding bullet. Russia was bigger than the Lithuanian, but was caught off guard and stumbled a little. Gathering his balance, Russia got up and chased after the brunet.
Lithuania made his way toward the kitchen. He grabbed the biggest knife he could find before being tackled to the ground. He winced when he saw the large purple eyes of Russia, full of confusion and anger.
"Why Litva? Why did you kill your brother, Estoniya?" At the mention of his so called "brother," Lithuania felt anger well up inside of him.
"He was never my brother," he answered, voice filled with venom. "Brothers don't let their siblings get tortured."
Russia looked at the Baltic in surprise. Tortured?
"What are you talking about?" Russia asked. Lithuania gave him a disbelieving look.
"You, Russia. You tortured me. Just yesterday." Lithuania rubbed his back instinctively.
"I wasn't torturing you, I was teaching you a lesson, and I wouldn't have done that if you wouldn't have stolen from me." Lithuania gave him an exasperated look.
"It was Latvia who stole your vodka! For God's sake, who's the only other alcoholic in this house?" Lithuania exclaimed. Russia froze where he was in surprise. Was that really true?
Lithuania took this opportunity to take the knife and attempt to cut his throat. Russia grabbed his hands and was able to stop him before the knife could cut into his flesh. He struggled with the Lithuanian for a minute before prying the knife out of his hand. Lithuania tried to then grab something else, anything he could use as a weapon, when his eyes settled on a frying pan.
Just as he was about to hit Russia, he felt a sharp, deep pain and saw the stolen knife buried into his chest. He was just about to fall to the ground, when the large Russian caught him, gently laying him down on the floor.
"I am so sorry, Litva, but you gave me no choice," he said, his voice filled with a deep sorrow. It wasn't long before the light left Lithuania's eyes.
It was another cold day in Russia. The personification of said nation picked the rue flowers in the greenhouse. Litva did an excellent job with them, as he always did. The Russian man cut them with all the gentleness and care he could. They reminded him so much of the nation that grew them.
He left the greenhouse and walked outside to where three headstones were. When he saw Lithuania's, he stopped and put them over his grave. Part of him felt bad about that, those flowers would be wilted and gone in no time, but that is what General Winter did to all beautiful and delicate things.
He decided to bury them together, when he found Latvia's body. He shouldn't have been surprised to find out he was dead too, but he still was all the same. No matter what Lithuania thought at the end, the three Baltics were brothers, united by pain and fear that he himself had caused. How did it take the death of all of them for him to realize that?
He made his way back to the mansion, the icy wind he once didn't give a second thought to biting into his skin.
I would love feedback, especially on this one. It at least seemed like a good idea in my head. Thank you all for reading!