"Please don't go," he begged. Although this wasn't exactly like how it originally happened it was just as bad. It still felt the same. "Please, Sve. I'll do anything." But of course that didn't work. It never worked, ever. In a matter of seconds Sve dissolved to nothing and all that was left in the empty white room was the sorry excuse for a country on the floor, and four out of his best friends glaring down at him.

Denmark closed his eyes and winced as yet another one of his friends walked over to him and spit on him, cursed him, beat him with as much force as he could. Den didn't even need to open his eyes to see who it was. It always happened this order. Because this order is what kills him the most. Denmark tried to open his eyes again, tried to see that it wasn't real, but all he saw was Finland drawing his leg back and striking him in the ribs. "Finn, please." Again more spit on his face, and then just like before, Finland was nothing.

This time he would take everything with his eyes open. It wasn't like he wanted to see this, but he couldn't shut his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, until they were fogged up with blood, Denmark would be forced to watch as little Icey came up and pulled his hair. As he smashed his head against the floor over and over and over again. All of the moments where Denmark had expressed a fatherly devotion to Ice, all the moments he tried to take comfort in, were now clouded. The door to his safe place was locked. And all he could see now was Ice. Eyebrows furrowed, pouty mouth, red face. Oh, he did still look like a baby, but he was furious, and Den could feel it in every blow.

"Aren't you going to say anything?!" But what was there to say? What could Denmark possibly say to the boy he sees as his son? How could he say anything to this boy other than "I love you." How could he lift a finger against him, against any member of his family? And as Ice huffed and left all Den could think of his how we would face him.

Stoic indigo eyes, short light blond hair, that one small curl. Yes. He was beautiful. Even as he clawed at Den, as he shredded him to pieces, as he whispered about how he would never come back, how he was hated and unloved, as he told Denmark he would never come back to him, he was beautiful. The most beautiful person Denmark had ever known. And suddenly he was gone. Denmark was alone.

•

"Don't just leave me here! Kill me!"

"What are you going on about, you idiot?" As soon as the sleep faded from his eyes, Norway regretted what he'd said. "Baby…"

The word didn't seem to quite reach the blonde next to him. who was curled up into a ball away from Nor. Oh. It had been another of Den's nightmares. Nor was all too used to waking up with his usually smiling and jeering lover, a pitiful mess after recalling events he never spoke about. But Norway and the rest of the Nordics knew. They could see it in his eyes when he looked at them. They were well aware of what Denmark re-lived most nights. And in a matter of moments Sweden, Finland, and Ice, were all in Den and Nor's room, asking everything was alright and realizing immediately that it wasn't.

"Dadmark… Are you…" Norway knew Iceland only used that name when he was worried and hoped maybe that would be enough to bring him out this time.

"NO."

•

Iceland stepped back in surprise. He had not expected Den to yell like that, and it shook something deep inside of him. It made him realize that, he couldn't bear this. He couldn't bare seeing his father figure shaking and in tears. He couldn't bear to hear Denmark's voice crack when he yells. And most of all, he could not possibly bear to think that this was his fault. Perhaps, if he'd tried to work things out with him this wouldn't be happening. Their happy family wouldn't have to be woken up each night by Denmark's flashbacks from his days of solitude. Maybe he wouldn't have been nuzzling into Dadmark's arms trying to convey the message that he was here and he wouldn't be leaving again.

•

Although the other members of their family didn't know it, silent Sweden knew exactly what was going through Denmark's head. The uncertainty, the suspicion, the desperation for reassurance. He too had felt that way when he'd first run off with Fin. And he knew how hellish it was. He also knew, that as annoying as Denmark could be, and as much as they bumped heads, Denmark thought of Sweden as a dear friend -if not family- and his feelings were not one sided. So Sweden did not hesitate to put his arm around his friend/family and as always, silently comfort him.

No one else in the house knew this but, Sweden felt as though through this he could pass some of his strength to Denmark. Although the very thought of that was laughable. Sweden was not strong. Although he did not show it on the outside he still had suspicions, he still had doubts, and he knew better than anyone else what the constant need for reassurance was. Because every time he saw that glint of nervousness in Finn's eyes. Every time Finn's eyes could not meet his. Every time he seemed to shake when Sve walked up to him, Sweden felt it.

Deep in his bones he knew that reassurance was only a necessity for those who had been kicked too much, like Denmark. And those who were weak. Like him.

•

Finland, was probably the most unsure of the Nordics. He was extremely confused by what was going on. He was confused as to why Denmark was crying. He was confused as to why Denmark was still hurting so much. Hadn't they patched things up? Hadn't Denmark forgiven them. Was all of that just a lie, and every moment of their waking life a facade? He was confused, hurt, and most of all he was angry. He was angry because he'd been woken out of a sweet dream for this. He was angry because it was partly his fault someone he held close to him was like this. He was angry because it was nearly December and there were no Christmas ornaments in this room. He was angry because even though he could not comfort Den with words but he could damn well put some light in his world. Even if they were artificial, red and green blinking, Christmas lights.

•

Norway probably looked like a small child. His cheeks all puffed up and red, snotty nose and disgustingly wet cheeks, and small whimpers escaping his throat. Even though he hated expressing how he was feeling in such a visible way, he could not help it. He did not enjoy what these nightmares reminded him of. Not one bit.

Because these nightmares were a constant reminder of not only how much everyone leaving had wrecked Denmark, but how terribly afraid he was that they would leave again. It reminded Norway that the reason Denmark holds him so tightly is that he's scared of losing him. That the reason Denmark never utters an insult is that he's scared he'll anger someone to the point of leaving. That the reason he's always yelling "I love you" or whispering it in Norway's ear is that he's worried he won't get the chance to tell Nor again. But now it was Norway's turn to show his love for his idiot of a Dane.

"Baby, please." He whispered, as he reached to tangle his fingers in Denmark's hair. Denmark ducked away from Norway's touch.

"Please, Den. Just let us show you that we're not going to..." He trailed off. This time Den was not fast enough and a shaking Norway was wiping his tears. Why wouldn't he just listen.

Now Norway was almost falling out of Den's lap, trying to pull him out of the ball he was in. He knew that if Denmark, didn't just open his eyes and see that his family was there for him, he would never truly believe it. "God dammit, you stupid Dane, will you just open your eyes already!" At this point, Norway, who usually showed as much emotion as a plank of wood, was heaving. When he finally saw those stunning blue eyes peering up at him, he finally was able to relax

"There," He said wiping another one of Denmark's tears, "Isn't that better?"

•

Often, when Denmark first woke out of a nightmare, he would be alert yet disturbed. So disturbed he couldn't possibly fathom the fact that he was awake and that his family was here for him. Often, he felt that even though, his body was alive and well, every other part -his heart, his mind, his very soul- was killed in those dreams. And often, he felt as though they can never be revived.

That is until…

He regains himself and feels Sweden's heavy arm pushing him down in the most comforting way possible. Until Sweden asks if he's "Ok'y?" Until Sweden smiles and removes his arm from Den, allowing him to peer around the room.

Until he sees the bright Christmas lights strung up everywhere. Until he's wondering how it was possible for Finn to accomplish this feat. Until out of nowhere Finland is jumping on to him, laughing all the way.

Until Ice who was sitting in Den's arms is knocked over. Until he's yelling at Finland, while Finn just laughs at him. Until he's pouting, but with a small smile playing at his lips. Until he hears a small exhale a relief.

It's up until this moment, that Denmark realizes that he is truly alive, in every way possible. In the moment that Norway -even in his current state the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes on- sits in his lap. When he kisses him. When he calls him foolish for ever thinking for a second that he could he ever leave him again. It's when the tears dancing on their cheeks, stop their waltz, and when Norway's flushed, red, face smiles for him. That's when he realizes it.

No matter how broken he is, the other Nordics will put him back together. No matter how dead he thinks he is, the other Nordics will revive him. And no matter how unloved and unworthy he feels, all of them will try their hardest to remind him that even a stupid bastard like him, still has a special place in all of their hearts.