Toris hesitantly brought his fist up to the front door.
He was nervous, and was doubting whether he should have even come.
What is Feliks wasn't ready for a visitor yet?
The last time Toris had seen Feliks, was when the little blonde was in the hospital bed, lifeless and barely alive.
Toris cringed, hoping that maybe Feliks would be sleeping, so he wouldn't have to endure a painfully awkward conversation with his friend.
No, it would be mean not to visit Feliks.
Knock knock.
A few minutes passed, and Toris almost turned away disappointedly, when the door slowly creaked open.
"Liet?"
Toris flinched slightly; the voice was so weak, so unlike the way it used to sound.
Toris turned around slowly.
Feliks was standing in the doorway, wide eyes staring eerily out at the taller nation.
There was a silence as both friends acknowledged each other.
Suddenly, Toris yanked the smaller boy into a much needed hug.
Toris began to sob silently into Felik's shoulder, relieved to see his friend, but so upset at his change in behavior.
Feliks took a step back defensively, but slowly put his bruised arms around his old friend.
"I…I …just thought..that you were…going to not remember me….or something stupid like that."
Feliks took his friend's shoulders, and made him look him in the face.
"Liet. Why the heck would I like, forget you? That's totally weird."
Toris smiled and sniffed, and then looked alarmed.
"Let's go inside. I don't' think that you should even be walking Feliks! Seriously!"
He pushed the shorter nation gently inside.
The house was all dark and quiet.
Most of the familiar furniture was missing, save a few chairs and a table.
Feliks smiled weakly at Toris' face.
"I know, it's totally different."
The two nations both sat down, but Toris stood right back up, instinctively starting up some boiling water for tea.
Feliks watched his friend's back silently, smiling.
Two cups in hand, Toris came back to the table, looking a little more at ease.
Silence.
Awkward silence.
Clearing his throat, Toris stammered out-
"Feliks…um…how do you um…feel?"
Ah, stupid question! He wanted to sink into the floor as Felik's eyes flashed with pain. But it was gone, and now Felik's eyes were uncharacteristically dull.
"Alright, I guess. Tired. How about you? Has Russia, like, been a total creep?"
When he mentioned Russia, his fist clenched slightly.
Toris noticed this reaction, and shuddered.
He remembered when Russia would come home, his coat would have terrible red stains on it.
"No, I'm fine. Hey- you want to lie down or something, look exhausted."
Feliks sighed, looking down at his untouched cup of tea.
He smiled up at Toris though, a small glimpse of the old Poland caught for a moment in his features.
"Wanna like, have a sleepover?"
Toris looked at him, surprised, but then grinned back, and nodded.
Feliks stood up, trying hard not to let Toris see how much even doing that hurt.
Toris, of course, noticed, and pushed Feliks gently back into the chair.
"I can get the stuff."
And with that he raced up the stairs, grabbing all of he blankets and pillows that he could find.
He ran back down, arms full.
He made two separate little beds out of multiple comforters when Feliks entered the living room, limping a little.
"Liet, stop, like making such a fuss. We'll only be sleeping!"
Toris blushed, he was getting a little carried away.
Feliks sat down, cross-legged, and Toris laid on his back, arms tucked behind his head.
It felt like old times, when they were younger.
Toris closed his eyes, and smiled.
Feliks stared down at him, happy that he was alright.
Then, he asked quietly-
"Liet, do the other countries, like, talk about me, behind my back?"
Toris opened his eyes and frowned at the ceiling.
"Of course not! Why would you think that?"
Feliks looked embarrassed-
"Nothing, just wondering."
"Please Feliks, just lie down and relax!"
Feliks sighed, happily annoyed, but fell backwards; arms spread out, and took some deep breaths.
Toris watched as Feliks' breathing became regular, and his hands started to twitch slightly.
"Poor Feliks."
Thought Toris sadly.
He closed his eyes, and felt himself drifting off to sleep.
Just as he was completely out, he was slapped hard by something.
"What the….?"
He sat up, immediately looking over at Feliks.
"Feliks??"
He whispered, terrified.
Feliks' eyes were wide open, staring wildly at the ceiling.
His arms and legs were flailing, and his breath was coming out in shallow gasps.
"Feliks???"
Toris leaned over his friend's possessed body, grabbing at his arms so he wouldn't get hit again.
"Ughh…no….no….NO!"
Feliks muttered, but screamed out the last no.
"Feliks! Wake up! It's me! It's Toris! It's your Liet! Please wake up!"
Feliks' eyes now focused on his friend's face.
"Liet?"
He stopped flailing.
Toris looked him in the fact, worry lines creasing his forehead.
"Liet, I saw them! Russia and Germany. They were totally standing above me, and they were like, calling me horrible names, and it was just like before!"
He covered his tear—streaked face with his shaking hands, as he burst into sobs.
"Shhh. They're not here. They're not going to hurt you anymore Feliks. Promise."
Toris held Feliks close.
He sighed despairingly, as the realization that his friend could not, and would not, be the same ever again.