Title: Sweet Dreams

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: Natalya Arlovskaya (Belarus), Ivan Braginsky (Russia), Katyusha Braginskaya (Ukraine), Eduard von Bock (Estonia), Toris Lorinaitus (Lithuania)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or Sucker Punch.

Notes: I put thoughts and flashbacks into italics. And important stuff. The point of view at the moment is Natalya

"Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask."

~ The X-Files

"Sweet dreams are made of these.

Who am I to disagree?

Travel the world,

And the seven seas…

Everybody is looking for something."

A far outcry of loneliness would only be muffled in the closed walls of the institution. No one would think upon it as a desirable position to find yourself in. No one would dare come close to it. A rather dreary sight indeed.

I did always wonder how I would be put at that level. Why would I be the one to become part of that world? What had I ever done to anyone, a sweet girl with a knack for sharp objects of any variety who would do her brother the favour of marrying him in which the money from our parents' wills would stay with us only, none of it having to go to a damned bride?

I suppose my troubles started must have started after mother's rather strange death. The usually jubilant woman had fallen ill. Having done nothing of the sort as to walk out the door into the pestilence of the world, and making sure to eat her meals, it was a random occurrence. And her death was only coinciding to father's death just a year before. My troubles started at her funeral…

I wore my royal purple chiffon dress to the funeral. Fidgeting with the tight skirt and waist was only futile, and only received the small, gentle scold from Katyusha about acting lady-like amongst them, those nobles who our fate depended on due to the stupidity of reputation and 'society'.

I came towards the casket that would foreverly house my mother's body. Her face was etched with a serene smile, an eternal smile. Her platinum hair was tied back into a bun, her slender hands gripping a rose to her chest. A beauty, she definitely was. Which indeed made my sister a beauty. I saw almost no resemblance from her in me.

Ivan came down from the landing, coming towards the casket. I quickly turned around, almost an instinct. I held back the non-existent tears I supposedly would have, and stared at brother in his handsome dress suit and shiny leather shoes. He cowered at my loving glance, yet came towards me.

"I am deeply sorry, sestra," he said, looking down at the ground. His platinum blonde hair retained its shine through this dark day, the dusky clouds only complimenting his hair. He resembled father and mother's best qualities through my eyes.

"You didn't do anything," I only said bluntly. He looked at me with pitiful remorse.

"You didn't do anything, brother," I repeated, coming towards that dear brother of mine. The remorse in his eyes converted to nervous fear. A usual reaction to me being in close proximity of him, my image coming closer to him only startling him with that amusing effect. I do confess to enjoying the fear, as a wife must definitely be feared by her husband and in converse, I shall properly fear my brother. Yet I wasn't trying to make him fear me, especially at this moment, and I even kept the comfort of my cutlery concealed and away for today.

"Sestra, we need to attend the services soon," he muttered nervously, looking away from me, going towards the coffin. I sighed within myself, knowing that my position today was to refrain myself for the day.

He came towards her coffin, putting a large hand to her dainty chin. He muttered a few inaudible words, though I was able to hear the single Russian word of "Izvinite."

I only looked away, forcing a half-smile, faking the tears I was supposedly supposed to shed for my maternal unit, yet I knew inside that I truly had no feelings for the cold woman that doted on the handsome brother of mine and only offered kindness to my sister. All she was… was but just a figure head to me. Something that would fill in that 'space' I supposedly had to have in my heart as a mother. But ah, that did not need to be filled. That really did not need to be filled… I have no feelings for the woman who briefly owned the vodka empire.

I came into the drawing room to briefly rest, yet I found my sister sitting opposite of the family attorney, Mr. Eduard von Bock. The blonde haired spectacled man shifted nervously in his seat as I entered the gray, faded, wallpapered room. I silently sat myself down upon the chair across from both of them, only watching them, not bothering to open my mouth to utter a greeting. A silence sliced through the conversation, my icy glare at the educatied attorney only chilling him more.

"A-ahem, Mr. von Bock? I suppose Natalya must know exactly the circumstances…" sestra said, looking down at the Persian rug, her blissful blush lighting her face again. I paid no attention to those usually rosy cheeks, which frequently bloomed into that colour despite the grayness of the house. My cheeks never did that, yet it made me feel a slight comfort that she wasn't all the way sulking or crying as I had expected.

"D-da, Miss Katyusha," the attorney said nervously, fussing with his tie. I almost felt the urge to go yank the tie even tighter about his neck, having the urge to hear him gawk and choke. That was the first time I had heard him call sestra by her first name, after all. And the helpless look on his face and the pain he would be in… monumental and amusing.

Eduard straightened out the papers sprawled upon the creaky tea table. He cleared his throat, acting as if what he was about to say was as important as a decree for dairy abstinence made by the Queen of England.

"Miss Arlovskaya, I know you are very aware with what your lovely mother's abrupt demise signifies," he said, adjusting his the fragile spectacles of his. My reply: A blank stare, stifling my answer of 'Who cares if she's dead?'. Sestra only fidgeted in her seat, looking towards von Bock for an almost comfort.

"Sestra, I know you know… about father's business and trade. It is very obvious they have talked to all three of us about it, especially Ivan… You know father's vodka empire, Villanovan Vodka, with its signature General Winter Vodka that only made us prosper more. Mother took it over unofficially after father died, not opening the will despite Ivan's insistence, but of course now that mother is dead…"

"The assets of the fortune from your father's will shall be divided amongst the three of you, depending on what both their wills said," Eduard finished. I blinked at that.

Katyusha had already started to squeeze von Bock's hand tightly. He held her hand even tighter, almost comforting her worrisome face. The man made me feel sick, his presence… Though he indeed is a distant cousin of ours that my 'gracious' mother had funded education for… just looking upon his lowly existence. Sickening. And the way he looks upon my sister. Even more stomach-wrenching.

"Sestra, I do hope you consider what you are going to do with those assets that father is bestowing upon us," Katyusha said, lightening up with a smile. I shrugged. From my perspective, all I knew was that I'd use it to my benefit and not bother to expand it. Perhaps sell the thing for quite a bit of money. Just… I just don't want to be in that office becoming greedier by the hour. I'll end up combining those assets with my brother once we were to be married, after all.

"Sestra, you really must be thinking about these kind of matters… after all, these things must be thought of. I truly wish mother and father were here…" she said, looking down at the carpet and then to the two gilded envelopes on the table. I was able to sense her attempt to restrain a larger smile from appearing on her face.

I watched as the rain poured in a small drizzle, not the ferocious kind of blustry wind, rather a small sob from the clouds. I felt as if they were crying for mother herself. Those tears are for waste, and I would only have offered no remorse.

The tears of the graying sky slowly fell to the ground, some even coming in contact with the box that held mother. I squeezed my hands together, wishing to be out of that world. Perhaps in a world where I was wanted, unlike the dreariness of this world. I blinked, the sun coming clear into the sky.

"Sestra, darling, the tea is ready and everything is set for today," a familiar Russian voice said, a happier tone than just an hour ago. I was sitting in my place at the table, looking through a leather-bound album. Pictures of a beautiful platinum blonde in a stunning white gown smiling next to her royal purple-eyed husband were strewn about the pages. I turned around and he gave me a small peck on the lips. A loving sort of peck. I closed my eyes, feeling my brother's essence in it all... When I opened...

The undertakers had started to shovel the dirt into her grave. Next to me, sestra was practically crying her eyes out, the tears of her eyes almost more than how much the rain had already poured into the soggy earth. I bowed my head with non-existent love and respect. Brother's head was also bowed. Looking towards him, I almost saw a smile, a smile of release or satisfaction. As if mother's departure to the 'heaven' she was supposedly going to was satisfying. In my mind, the cruelties she has done to me... they shall be avenged and punished eternally.

I am not going to miss her at all.

The dinner that followed afterwards became more rants upon eulogies of mother and an event of politics. It was almost certain that everyone was arguing in brother's favour about taking on Villanovan Vodka, and becoming the 'General Winter'. More praise claiming mother as a goddess-like saint, bearing 'the most wonderful children' continued on, more bragging about sestra and her virtues and figure. More ranting upon brother's beauty and strength. Only a slight remark about me being 'a slightly pretty face' was mentioned. I only felt a sense of consciousness, almost a naked feeling, yet tried to shake it off. I wasn't 'caring' or 'beautiful' or at all 'graceful' as sestra. I only paled in comparison to sestra. And I was no match for Ivan. Strength be something I did not have, unless you counted my cutlery. And I was not as 'charitable' as him, or 'welcoming'. My face wasn't as sweet as the pure sweetness called Ivan. I was the creep drab sister who did absolutely nothing for anyone's benefit, rather my amusement of their pain and sorrow.I was given random glances, with a face saying 'that's her'.

I wondered why mother had never sent me away to that terrible Cherrywood Young Women's Finishing School, something she could have done long ago. Go ahead, put me in that prison for all I cared. It would have been better than being here in this not very excitable dress, eating with such drab people in their strange attire, being told the only way I would remain rich in the status of sestra or brother was to be taken in by them or marrying one of a rich class. Which I will not.

"S-sestra will be good and well off without me or brother," Katyusha said to one guest. I almost grunted. An excuse not to be in her household, yet I really would just be a stick in the mud there, wouldn't I? "She'll even catch the eye of someone and will make him a happy husband!"

Absolutely not. As if I even wanted to catch anyone's eyes except brothers. No one would fall for me except brother, the one who needed to be kept safe from this hell hole.

Unfortunately, I unintentionally had caught the eye of someone. A nuisance whose eyes I desired to gouge. Annoying since childhood, and a supposed 'suitor' as mother had called him...

"Daughter, dear... You really must consider not injuring your potential suitor," mother had told me that day.

"Now why would I do that? He is a bloody oaf and annoyance to me," I answered, casually sharpening my knife, my back turned from her. Mother shook her head.

"He is a suitor, Natalya. A suitor. You do not get many."

"I do not get any."

"That is the point! Take this chance, Natalya, darling, and go pursue him," Mother said. I turned my around, my now sharpened knife pointed at her.

"Now why would I want to do that? My marriage to anyone doesn't matter to you or anyone. You already have two model heirs heading down a good path. I am pretty sure that they will be good on their own," I answered, tilting my head at an angle. She winced, and grabbed my wrist.

"I know you know that I don't care what you do. But take the damn Lorinaitus suitor already. He has a good amount of money behind him. If you really care about your brother, you would marry the Lorinaitus and give me- I mean him the money. You got that clear? I don't care about your happiness, Natalya," the evil woman filled with greed said. She released my hand and I scowled at her.

"You seductress of ill-fate," I muttered.

"I don't care what you think of me, but in this house, you are under my command. I don't care what you do, what you say, but you aren't to say any word of this conversation," she said. I smiled.

"Why of course, mother darling."

The brown-haired man sitting across from me at the table gave a smile. I have him the usual glare, and he only continues to smile at me. I wanted to throw a knife at his face. Reaching for my sleeve, I felt no knife. I only attempted to shoot with the daggers of my eyes.

More murmurs of the useless politics the world runs on and the recent war discussions continued on around the table. This almost started to bug me. I would gouge all their eyes out if I could.

I hear the loud tapping of a piece of silverware to a water glass.

"Let's stop with bombarding Natalaya, the government, and war with condemnation, shall we? We really shouldn't be discussing politics and disturb this lovely feast given to us by the lovely heirs of Villanovan Vodka," the annoying Estonian said, putting the knife to the table after grabbing everyone's attention. I now had the urge to gouge his eyes and obliterate his spectacles even more. A kiss-up to brother and sestra. That was what he was.

The people around the table grew silent and started voicing their agreement and nodding their heads. Eduard cleared his throat.

"I have an announcement to make. This really regards Miss Katyusha... all of us," he said. Sestra stood up. I almost groaned.

"If you are not aware yet... Miss Katyusha and I are planning to be married soon..." he said, his voice almost fading. Weakling. I wanted to scream at him that he wasn't worthy for sestra. That sestra was more fragile than that, easily swayed and manipulated to my knowledge. I wanted to scream and yell at her for accepting so hastily, to be able to touch the fires of love so freely. But who was I to disagree? I had never been in love that was accepted...

"E-eduard, did we agree to announce it here and now?" sestra asked, blushing now. I wanted to get out of here. I needed to get out of here. If she's accepted, she's abandoned me. My sestra. The one who took that accursed woman's place in my heart. No, she can't abandon me. She really can't be abandoning me. Brother frowned at the couple. An agreement? Yet that was his only reaction. Typical of a new brother-in-law. Brother-in-law. No. This was going to tear sestra away from me even more, and brother now will become more part of that man's life. No. I couldn't accept that reality.

"I-I must do it now..." he said, pulling out a velvet red heart-shaped box. He placed the ring upon her finger. And I ran.

"N-Natalya!" sestra yelled, her hand with the ring upon it outstretched. I didn't look back as I ran across the hall, going towards the balcony. I put my feet to the railing, attempting to climb over the balcony and jump. I didn't need this madness anymore. I already knew I wasn't getting the Vodka empire unless everyone suddenly died, which I highly doubted. I didn't need to put up with it all. I climbed over the railing, about to jump...

... And then the annoying Lorinaitus boy put his arms around my torso, preventing me from taking my fall.

I struggled, growling at him, trying to kick him away from me, yet his grip stayed iron, lowering me to the balcony again.

"Natalya... Please don't do something that rash..." he said, straightening my now wrinkled skirt. I swatted his hands.

"I can do whatever I want, Toris. I'm not marrying young, and that is my final word," I said. He looked at me with longing eyes.

"I don't want you to marry me if you really aren't happy. You need to be happy before I can ever be. Please... don't jump," he said. I smirked.

"You don't know what it's like to be me, Toris. You don't know this... this darkness I'm stuck in," I said, going towards the balcony again. He only stopped me by looking at me with pleading eyes. I surely hate a lot of things about him, but it was just his eyes that urked me the most. Deep-set green eyes like emeralds, shining and with genuine happiness and sadness with every sway of emotion. Just the pureness that someone like me would only dream of. Only I despised the fantasy of it. His steady gaze was undeniably penetrating, causing me to freeze in place.

"I'm not casting you off, Toris. And I won't jump. Just... find someone better than me," I said, trying to draw a non-existent knife out of my sleeve again to threaten him away from me. I felt no tears running down my face. He backed away to the door.

"Natalya, I'm sorry," he simply said, opening the door for me. I gave a curt nod and speedily left.

I notice once I come back into the dining room, no one had any concern of my swift departure. Rather, they kept to their casual talk. Typical. Very typical. I pulled a seat and put it towards the window, away from the tainting greediness of the aristocrats and corporate owners. Ivan was already ready to commence the reading of our parents' wills. No one paid any attention to my arrival, rather fixated to my brother.

He opened the sealed envelope that contained our father's will. He beamed at the paper. Predictable enough, he probably received a lot of the assets.

"'To my children, I give them equally the money I had made from Villanovan Vodka. I give my company's trademark patent of General Winter Vodka to my son Ivan Braginsky...'" he started to read. I only dozed by the window trying to drain the world around me away.

He opened mother's will after he had read father's.

"'In termination to what I believe is in my husband's will, I give-'" Ivan started to read. His smile almost dropped as he squinted, reading the will. He cleared his throat, continuing on with a smile now.

"I give my whole company of Villanovan Vodka to my son, Ivan Braginsky. My daughters shall receive a slight part of the estates. My daughter Katyusha shall receive all my earthly possessions, including the servants, though the house is to belong to my son. My daughter shall be left with the small amount of money I left for studying funds, only to be used to enter a finishing school," Ivan read. Mother dear, you never fail to amuse me, now do you?

Many of the dinner goers shook my brother firmly by the hand, congratulating him on the great endeavor. Toris even offered good luck to my brother. I, however, only waited by the window until the room cleared. Sestra, brother, the accursed Estonian... they all cleared the room, leaving a mess of plates for the servants to clear later. The storm out the window only continued to rumble.

I noticed that Ivan had left the wills on the table. I smirked as I picked up father's, looking at the almost empathetic fate that he had handed to me. He could have just split the money between sestra and brother. That meant the cold man had his feelings.

When I decided to pick up mother's paper, I almost faltered. I know she bestowed me just more terrible fortune, erasing the good effects my father's will would have given me. I turned over the will slowly, and looked at it...

My eyes widened as I scanned the contents of the will. I swiftly dropped the will, running out the door. I ran towards father's old study. I panted, turning the knob to open the door. He misread the will. There is a slight error to it. A very slight error. A rather slight error. I opened the door...

The darkness of the study was very typical, yet brightening the light only made me feel the urge to gag. Sestra was on the floor of the study, her body bloodied, brother next to her, cooing the word 'Izvinite' into her ear. She whimpered, barely breathing. He looked towards me and looked at me, his eyes creasing into a glare. A chill ran through my spine. This wasn't brother. This couldn't be him. This was a monster who had ripped the wings off my angel of a sister. I almost was able to deduce the situation now.

I leapt towards brother...

And scratched.

Author's Note:

Okay, is this total fail? I didn't mean for it to seem like this, but it grew, and this was like not even five minutes of the original movie |D

Well, I hope you like it. I noticed a lack of Hetalia/Sucker Punch fanfics, and so had to write this up. Next chapter will be up once I can get back to typing more.

Only translation here is 'Izvinite' is 'Sorry' in Russian, I believe. If not, please go ahead and give me the correct translation.

Rate and review, please :)