Welcome and thank you for clicking this title.

Disclaimer: Hetalia is not and never will be mine.

Warnings: Nothing much, just angst. Lots and lots of angst.

The lights in the hall flickered, threatening to go out for the fourth time that day. A cold gust of wind blew through the house. Her bones groaned as the chill breeze bit into her body. Cursing the many drafts that seemed to pop up in every corridor, Ukraine concentrated on putting one shaking foot in front of the other. Her body trembled with each step she took, her stomach whimpered, ravaged by the yawning hunger that was tearing through her body. Every time she tried to straighten up her body so she could walk properly, her abdomen screeched in protest. So weak were her muscles (what was left of them), that she had to lean against the wall to prevent herself from falling over. Ukraine bit her lip as another hunger pang ripped through her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks both from pain and anguish. Why? Why was this happening? Russia loved her...right?

As she put her left foot down, her ankle twisted underneath her. Ukraine let out a yelp and fell to the floor. Frustrated and embarrassed, she pushed herself up onto her knees and cradled her screaming stomach with one hand while rubbing her ankle with the other. A fresh wave of sorrow washed over, sending the tears spilling down her face. I'm so pathetic. Starving, weak, and on my knees crying like a little girl...but I can't help it. I'm in so much pain! Please someone help me... Sniffing, she wiped her eyes and splayed her right hand on the wall, gripping one of the wood panels to help her climb to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Latvia watching her. The look worn by the small Baltic nation was a mix of sorrow and pity. He watched as she struggled to her feet, slumping over, hand clutching her abdomen, chewing on her bottom lip to prevent herself from wailing out in utter pain. Please, don't look at me, she thought, don't look at me like that Latvia. I don't need your facial features to tell me how much I'm suffering.

Back on her feet, Ukraine resumed her slow trudging down the hall. How long? How long had it been since the famine started? How long since the farms were collectivized and no one could eat what came out of their own fields? She couldn't remember. After the fourth week of no food, days and nights had blurred into one roar of agonizing, ever-lasting lapse of time. For the longest time, she'd heard the cries and death throes of her people as they moaned from pain and hunger. Her heart wrenched every time a child cried, begging its mother for food; the mother in turn would look down at her child and try hard not to cry because she knew there was no way she could feed her child when she couldn't even feed herself. A few weeks ago, a group of teenage boys had tried to break into a silo that stood on the outskirts of a small village, determined to get at least one bushel of grain within to divide and bring back to their families. They never made it to silo. When they came within twenty feet, they were shot and killed by the Russian soldiers guarding the silo. The families never received the bodies.

Just two days ago, a girl of twelve watched her parents being loaded onto carts and hauled away with the other dead. The girl had watched, trying hard not to cry as her only family was taken away, already gone. Yesterday, a family was killed after trying to hop the border and escape into Poland. She had heard rumors that some Ukrainians living in American had tried to ship food over to aid the people of Ukraine.

The food didn't even make it through the border. The shipment was halted and discarded.

Ukraine steeled herself against another wave of pain. If she could just talk to Russia, then he would be able to convince his boss to de-collectivize the farms and turn over all the grain being stored in the silos to the people. Her arms and legs burned from the strain she was putting on them. As she was about to sit down on the floor and rest, she heard Russia's muffled voice just a few feet ahead. Spurred on, she forced her legs to carry her to the door of his study. Once there, Ukraine took a moment to collect herself. Anxiety made her heart pump twice as fast. What if he refused to help her? What if her request made him angry? If he still carried around that lead pipe, would he...

Ukraine shook her head. I can't think like that. Little brother Russia will help me, I know he will. After all, we're family. That's right, and family took care of its own. Or so she told herself repeatedly as she raised her fist and knocked as hard as she could.

"Yes? Who is it?"

"I-It's Ukraine, Russia. May I come in and talk to you?" She struggled to keep the cough out of her voice. In the back of her mind, she prayed she was not getting sick. Sickness on top of starvation. It was almost like she was in-

Stop! Stop thinking like that!

"Ukraine? I said you could come in?"

"O-Oh! Sorry, thank you brother."

Smiling, she turned the knob and stepped inside. The windows were covered by thick curtains, and the lamp on the desk barely pierced the thick shroud of shadow that hung in the room. Russia stood behind his desk, examining a few documents that had been sent to him earlier in the week. Upon seeing his sister he smiled.

"Hello sister, what brings you here today?"

Ukraine took a deep breath. Now that she stood here, she wondered if her decision hadn't been a mistake. The incessant pounding of her heart resounded in her ears; she had to put her hands behind her back so Russia wouldn't see them shaking. Every nerve-fiber in her brain was screaming at her to turn around and leave, just get out. Get out before there was no turning back.

Instead, she stood up straight, wincing at the pain, and looked her brother dead in the eye.

"Russia, we need to talk. I...I want you to ask your boss to de-collectivize the farms."

Silence. A drop of cold sweat rolled down Ukraine's neck. Wind rattled the timbers of the house. Russia stared back at his sister. Cold, unyielding violet chips of ice bore deep into Ukraine. Unable to bare that stare, she dropped her head. Russia chuckled.

"What do you mean, 'de-collectivize the farms'? Your people are producing more food now than they were before. They have enough grain in the silos to feed themselves for at least a year."

"But Brother-" Ukraine began, but was cut off by a coughing fit. Once she regained her breath, she tried again, "But Brother, no one can get near the silos. You should know; your boss has them guarded by Russian soldiers. Anyone who gets too close is shot. Please, at least let them get into the silos so they can get enough grain to make a semi-decent meal!"

Russia shook his head, "I can't do that, Ukraine. That grain is supposed to go to the Russian state."

What? Was she not part of the Russian state? She was a part of the Soviet Empire damn it! Did that mean nothing? She couldn't help it; her jaw fell open at her brother's audacity.

Sensing his sister's shock, Russia continued, "You, sister, are part of the Soviet Empire, not the Russian state. My boss needs that grain in order to aid his Five-Year Plan." He set the papers down and walked around his desk, coming to a stop in front of Ukraine. He placed a gloved hand on her cheek. Ukraine flinched back, trembling openly. "Once he's done helping me, I'm sure he'll help you. He's a great man."

Ukraine gulped, "Can't you tell him to open the borders?"

Sighing, Russia turned away and clasped his hands behind his back, "Now, if he did that, foolish people may try to escape to other countries, and where would our man-power go? Once people hop the border, it's difficult to track them down. If the borders are sealed, then we can better keep an eye on them and what they're doing. Wouldn't you agree sister?"

She looked at the floor. Behind her back, her hands balled into tight fists. He wasn't selling her out was he? Wait on her brother's boss for help? What help? By her estimation, it had already been at least a year. Too many people had died, and she was in far too much pain to simply wait on a man who may or may not come to her rescue. A couple tears coursed down her cheeks. She had watched so many people die, so many people suffer, and she wouldn't see it continue.

"No...I don't." she whispered. She turned and placed her hand on the doorknob. All that effort, wasted. All her hope, gone. He wouldn't help her. She was as good as doomed.

"I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?"

Terror froze her heart. The shaking in her hands renewed itself. She could almost feel her brother's sinister smile eating away at her confidence. His gaze bore holes into the back of her head. The room temperature began decreasing. Ukraine swallowed on a dry throat.

"Oh Big Sister..." Russia said in a sing-song voice as sweet honey, "would you mind telling me what you just said?"

Shaking and terrified, Ukraine let go of the doorknob. Thoughts scrambled around inside her head. What should she do? Lie and escape back into hunger and pain, or tell him the truth and be beaten within an inch of her life. A sudden anger flared within her, its heat sparking the fuse to a temper she didn't even know she had. Beat her within an inch of her life? With things the way they were, she was already on borrowed time. Besides, it didn't matter if she lied and escaped or told the truth and received a beating because of it; either way she was gambling with her life. There was nothing else left to lose. It had all been taken. Her pride, her independence, her happiness, even her bread had disappeared. Everything else that mattered was gone except her life, and even that hung by a thin thread. She sighed. I might as well. She closed her eyes and turned around. Her brother had turned partially around and was smiling that sweet smile that she could never resist when they were younger. Ukraine took a deep breath and put a shaking hand over her pounding heart. I have nothing left to lose. This is all, this is it. For the first time, she glared at Russia.

"No, I don't agree with you, Little Brother. My people are suffering. They can't live like this. Most of them aren't even living anymore. They're dying, I'm dying! We can't go on like this, we need food!"

"Sister, Stalin's Five-Year Plan will-"

"I don't care! And don't try to tell me it will put food on my peoples' tables when you just said that all that food is supposed to go to the Russian state! I'm not stupid, you're starving us! You and your damned boss!" Ukraine gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. She could feel Russia's rage boiling over. Its heat radiated off him in waves, bringing the sweat at Ukraine's temples out in full force.

"Do you really feel that way Ukraine?"

"I...I..."

"Come now, answer me honestly. You've already stuck your foot in your mouth, I won't mind if you decide to bite down."

The underlying threat stood out clear as day: If you lie, it's going to be far worse for you. Ukraine crossed her arms, desperate to hide her trembling. Here it was: the final gamble. If she backed down now, not even God himself would be able to tell what would come next. I have nothing else to lose, she reminded herself. She took another deep breath and forced herself to keep looking at her brother.

"Y-Yes. I do feel that way. All he cares about is power. He won't even acknowledge the fact that my people are starving. He says that it's a lie; that nothing's wrong. That's why I came to you brother." She looked up. Soft, dark blue eyes clouded with hunger and pain pleaded with eyes of unforgiving violet. "Please, if not for my people, then please...for me? We're family Russia. I want to stay with you and to do that; I have to stay alive, so please? For your sister?"

No answer. Not verbally, and not by way of facial expression. Despair, an icy, heavy weight, plunged through her heart, dragging it down to the floor, where it shattered into thousands of tiny fragments. She had gambled all that she had, and lost.

"Ukraine?"

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at him. Never before in her life had she felt more abandoned, more alone and afraid. The threat of death hung over like the blade of a guillotine, waiting to cut through the neck that she had so exposed when she poured out her feelings to Russia.

"Look at me sister."

Ukraine shook her head. She wouldn't. Another bout of pain welled up within her belly, nearly doubling her over. A small whimper escaped her clasped lips. Once again, she cradled her abdomen. I want to disappear. I want the pain to stop. I want things to be the way they used to be. This is a nightmare.

"It's alright."

Against all her better judgment, Ukraine opened her eyes. Warm, comforting light shone from Russia's eyes. His lips were turned upward in a small smile of compassion. For the first time since the Bolshevik Revolution, a true emotion showed on his face.

"B-Brother..."

Russia sighed, "Sister..."

Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she went sprawling to the floor. Reeling from the blow, Ukraine laid on the floor, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her joints moaned from the force of the impact. Confused, Ukraine began pushing herself up off the floor. He didn't just hit her. No, that couldn't have-

Pain blossomed in her diaphragm and she slammed back into the wall. This time, she cried out as her fragile, starved body made contact with the wood. She curled up into a ball, hacking and coughing.

"R-R-Russia..."

"I'm very disappointed in you big sister. I thought you of all people would support me." The foot crashed into her hip, "starving you? My boss and I are helping you. Everything's going to be fine. You'll see."

"Lies..." her voice was a shuddering whisper. Above her, Russia growled and yanked her up by the hair. He slid the lead pipe out from his sleeve and stroked her cheek with it.

"I want you to repeat after me sister: Stalin is a wonderful leader, and there's nothing wrong in my country."

Ukraine coughed, "Please...stop. I'm begging you."

Russia smiled and swung the pipe into her ribs. The sickening crack reverberated throughout the study, almost drowning out Ukraine's scream. He picked her up again, this time by the collar, not noticing how the fabric hung off her emaciated body. "Come now Ukraine, repeat after me..."

Ukraine's scream echoed down the hall. Latvia whimpered and pressed himself further into Lithuania's chest. Tears streamed down his face, staining his older brother's uniform. He shook.

"He's beating her."

Lithuania held him tighter and began stroking his back. The eldest Baltic brother put his chin on Latvia's head, "Sshh, it's alright Latvia."

"No it's not! She's in a lot of pain, how can he do this to her?" came the muffled reply, broken here and there by sobs.

Lithuania closed his eyes and tried to stop his own tears from coming. He didn't know how Russia could turn on his own sister. If he raised his hand against Latvia or Estonia, he would be beside himself with regret. To raise one's hand against their own blood was unforgivable.

"It's because he's a madman." Estonia snarled from his position to the left of Lithuania. The middle brother stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glaring at the closed door. Latvia sniffed and clung tighter to Lithuania as another one of Ukraine's cries assailed them from behind the door.

"It's not fair!"

"I know Latvia, I know." Lithuania whispered, entwining his fingers in Latvia's curls. The child nation shuddered with each sob that wracked his body. Lithuania could feel his shoulder getting soaked from his brother's continuous crying. However, it didn't bother him. Rather, he envied Latvia for being able to cry. He looked up at Estonia, who continued to glower at the door. He and I had to learn to stop crying years ago. It was the only way we could protect ourselves from him.

"When will it stop?" Latvia choked out between sobs

Another shriek of pain grated against Lithuania's ears. He felt Latvia try to shrink into his coat. Trying to ease the anguish, Lithuania covered the child's ears. His shoulders shook as he heard Ukraine cry out again. Burying his face in Latvia's hair, he murmured, "I don't know. I just hope it's soon."

Dang, this is the first time I've ever written something like this. Reviews are appreciated.