"At first I thought I was the only one who was suffering."

Cry for Me

"Russia-san? I made you some tea."

"Why thank you Toris, just leave it on the table please."

Lithuania obeyed. He set the tray on the burgundy wood with a soft clank. He blinked as the pungent vapor engulfed his face and then turned his body to look at the resting nation.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm getting better, fortunately. This cold weather is troublesome, don't you agree, Toris-kun?" Russia smiled warmly despite himself. The heavy sheets covered half of his body and the rest was propped up against the headboard.

Liet tried to return the gesture but he doubted anything even showed up, instead he found his eyes wandering to the window. Little flakes were flying past in flurries. It was funny how Russia would complain about the weather when his own skin was cold to the touch.

Ivan could pass for a dead man.

Lithuania shivered at the memory. When Russia had first grasped his hand to drag him away from Feliks, he couldn't tell at all. He was covered in wounds and snow and the air was frigid. Months later, only when he was laying face down a midst the remains of his torn shirt, did he first realize the unnatural body temperature.

The experience was so vivid in his mind.

He did not know what had set Russia off. At times he could be the warmest person, or the cruelest soul. His personality was that of a tempest storm; unpredictable and dangerous. It didn't take long for Liet to see how insane Russia was.

But unfortunately, by the hard way, he had learned of his temperamental nature, or maybe it wasn't even his nature at all. Liet didn't believe Russia was born with a lash in his hand, or that mad grin on his face when he momentarily lost his lucidity. His periods of kindness and generosity proved this.

However, that day wasn't one of those moments. Liet was scared. Scared for himself, and scared for Russia. He obeyed the commands without truly knowing what he was doing. The first time the whip slashed up his shirt, he bit back a yelp. His eyes stung as he held back tears and the tip of his fingers were raw after digging them into the rough carpet. Several times he could taste the metallic liquid.

And Russia would be standing over him, shouting and laughing with bloody delight as he went on.

After five strokes, he had finally stopped. He remembered looking at the remains of his tunic. The carpet was stained with flecks of his own blood. The parts of his back that weren't lashed open were still sensitive. Just being exposed to the cool air made the surface sting. He had tried to support himself, to stand up and to get away, but Russia had kept him from doing so. First it was his shoulder that was prodded, and then it was his back. He had cried out in shock and pain for Russia's ice-cold hands were like a white iron to his mutilated skin.

He couldn't help but shiver and tremble as his body was racked by coldness. Though, the breakdown was probably from the fear and anticipation of what would happen next.

"Stay still, please," Russia said softly. Liet had kept still, except for the subtle trembling he could not control. He pressed his body flat to the ground, the carpet scratching his cheek as he waited for Russia who had walked away. He returned with a towel and a bowl of warm water. Lithuania heard the unscrewing of a cap as Russia knelt beside him. A faint smell of alcohol filled his nostrils. He dabbed the substance on his fresh wounds and Liet shut his eyes at the stinging. It hurt and he wanted it to stop, but Russia was gentle. He couldn't push him away.

He had moved on with the warm water and towel. During the entire process of treating his wounds, Russia never apologized. The only words he had said to him were "Why didn't you scream?" Lithuania couldn't answer him.

And even now, if he were to be asked the same question, he still wouldn't be able to answer.

"Are you alright?" Present-day Russia pulled him out his thoughts.

"…Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking." He half expected him to ask "about what?" but he didn't.

Instead, "You can go then."

Liet nodded his head and exited the room, closing the door behind him; the deep click of the doors echoing in his mind.

-x-X-x-

It had been a week after Russia had recovered from his illness. He was up and attending business and issues with the other nations as usual while Lithuania tended to his own duties and chores.

Then it happened again.

It was evening when Russia returned, by storming through the doors, almost throwing them off their hinges. Liet was in the middle of cleaning the circular room but stopped his humming when he found Russia glaring at him with dilated pupils. He was grinning widely, lips stretching. Liet caught a gasp as he backed away. "R-Russia-san?"

He bounded towards him.

Liet closed his eyes.

He wrapped those dead hands around his throat.

I can't do anything…

"How does this feel, Toris-kun?"

This is what he wants…

"Why have you forsaken me?"

This is what he needs…

Russia threw him against the ground. "Why won't you say anything?"

This is for him.

Russia fell to his knees and pulled the wheezing Liet to himself, tightly locking him in an embrace. He was enveloped in coldness and comfort. There was no escape from this. It was all so wrong, yet it seemed like the only right thing to do. Lithuania let himself slump against the other, letting his head rest between the crook of his shoulder as Russia wove his hands through dark hair.

It's not his fault.

-x-X-x-

Truth be told, Lithuania didn't know where this dedication came from. He didn't know if the tolerance stemmed from strength or weakness, fear or bravery, love or hate.

But one thing was for sure; Lithuania didn't hate Russia. He couldn't. He could be angry at all the pain the other would inflict upon him, but most of the time, Russia's inner suffering only brought sorrow to Lithuania. He hoped, no he believed, Russia would be saved.

Liet remembered the years before 1905 when Russia was less prone to these sudden bursts of madness. He would take the steaming cup of tea that Liet regularly prepared for him with both hands, a sincere smile on his face. He would often laugh while downing a mild portion of vodka, letting Liet share in with the rare moment of joy.

Toris longed to return to that era.

Back then, Ivan would still beat and hurt him when he lost it; but he found salvation and consolation in the kindness that Russia would occasionally give. Now all that seems like a distant dream. All wasn't lost, but it felt like Russia was slipping away more and more as the days passed by.

-x-X-x-

He loved him. He loved him so much.

Russia opened his mouth in silent laughter as he constantly reminded himself that Lithuania was his. His entire body was trembling violently as he was overtaken by perverse joy. Liet's will was his; Liet's existence was his. It was all just too wonderful.

He pressed his back against the tile wall and slid down, pulling his knees closer to his chest. He would protect him; not letting anyone lay a hand on his precious beloved. Liet would be safe… with him, Russia.

Oh, but there was a problem. Even though Russia found pleasure in demonstrating his power over Lithuania, he still longed for something more.

Russia hated silence. Silence was death. He would do anything to be rid of it. He longed for Lithuania's screams. But no matter what he did to him, Liet would hold it in and glare at him with fierce, yet pained, eyes. Why did he look at him like that? Such a scary face wouldn't be necessary. Russia only wanted to share in his suffering, bond and intertwine with him. Why couldn't dear Lithuania understand and open up to him?

He knew why…

Russia's eyes widened in horror as he reached up to dig his nails into his own face. He was evil. He profaned this so-called "love". He knew all along. He burned and killed what he loved. He loved his people. He didn't want them to suffer. But he slaughtered them like worthless vermin, did he not? He didn't mean for them to suffer like this… But weren't sacrifices necessary?

It wasn't supposed to happen. He just wanted everyone to be happy, to be united. But his people fought with one another, died, and fled. It hurt so much. Why did it turn out like it did? What did he do wrong?

No, no, it wasn't his fault.

Liet understands him. He has seen him in his darkest time. He has seen the extent of his insanity. He will stay; Russia needs him to stay so… It was going to turn out good, right?

Things will never be all right. He was cursed with an everlasting burden, a path of madness and bloodshed.

Russia pounded his head against the wall. Was this anguish he was feeling the whole meaning of life?

He wanted warmth…

Blood was warm.

-x-X-x-

It was way too quiet in the house for Toris to feel comfortable. Russia-san wasn't supposed to leave for anything today. Normally, he would let Liet know when he was going out so he can watch over the house.

Lithuania passed the many rooms several times over. Russia wasn't anywhere. Often he would just sit in the upper lounge and stare out the window with a melancholic look on his face. To Liet's disappointment, Russia wasn't there either. Worry bubbled in his gut, was he on some expedition that he didn't want him to know about or what…?

He slowed his pace to think about where Russia would be. In the silence, he started to hear an incoherent yet familiar voice. He made his way to a closed door, one of the empty white storage rooms. Lithuania would know after passing the room way too many times in the past.

He grasped the knob harder than what was necessary and opened the door. "Russia-sa-?"

A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he was in taking what was happening before him.

Russia was sitting on the ground in a shallow puddle of his own blood.

He fiddled with various knives and blades, but stopped when he looked up to see who had intruded upon him. Seeing Lithuania, his face split into a cold, cold grin. "Oh hello, Toris-kun," he said in a rather euphoric voice.

Liet's vision was trembling as he looked at what Russia had done to himself. Seven long, deep cuts lined the insides of each of his arms. The ends of his ever-present soaked in blood. The palms of his hands were a bright red. There was so much blood, it was hard to judge how many times Russia had cut himself.

He hesitantly took a step closer. "R-Russia-san?" His eyes locked onto the slashed up arms.

Russia blinked as his grin faded. He held up one of his mutilated arms to inspect it. "Oh this? It's all right. It doesn't hurt. Won't you join me Lithuania?" He looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

Liet didn't know what to say. The blood that continued to dribble and smart from the open wounds distracted him. Russia could die, and Lithuania knew it.

This wasn't right, so why was it even happening?

Russia's face darkened considerably at Liet's silence. "I see how it is… You're just like everyone else, Lithuania!" his voice rose and he was pretty much shouting now, "you're a traitor, a liar! Everyone, EVERYONE! They abandoned me, took everything and left nothing. I hate it all, I hate it so much! It didn't have to be like this so WHY?"
Russia's voice started to break as he dragged himself towards Liet, leaving a messy trail of blood. He let his hand reach up towards him but it fell uselessly, splattering even more blood onto the ground.

"I trusted you," he continued, "you were supposed to be there, you could have stopped all of this and no one would've had to go!"

Liet let himself fall to his knees, his eyes and face burning. His heart felt like it was going to explode. Why was Russia doing this to himself?

"I-I'm so sick of it!" Ivan screamed. He shook his head wildly as he tore at his hair. "Just so sick…"

Toris reached out and did what he thought was the right thing to do. He wrapped his arms around Russia's larger figure and pulled the trembling mass towards himself. He buried his face into his hair and held on tightly, not yielding to Russia's attempts to break away. But he soon stopped and allowed himself to be held. Toris shifted his head to Russia's shoulder.

It was quiet except for a sniffing noise.

"Toris-kun…? …Are you crying for me?"

Audible sobs continued to come from Liet as tears ran down his face and onto his shoulder. Russia closed his eyes and returned the embrace, wrapping his own arms around Liet's waist. The two remained in each others grasp. Ivan finally understood now.

"That makes me so… happy."

Fin

-x-X-x-

Im so obsessed with RussiaxLithuania so I decided to write a fic. Im so sorry it sucks though x___X Its been a while since I last attempted to seriously write something. Well I hope you guys like it anyways. Please review?