Ivan was like a child clinging to a security blanket

"I'm not letting you leave me." The blonde Russian buried his face into the smaller man's bare chest. Gilbert winced at the strong arms that made breathing a chore, the German forced humor and shifted his place on the large bed, giving the Russian a grip that allowed oxygen to his lungs "C'mon, I haven't seen my brother in almost twenty years and it's not like you're never going to see me again."

Gilbert felt cool breath tickle him as Ivan kissed exposed skin and admitted in a small voice "I don't know that."

It was a long time before either of them spoke and the silence only made the room feel colder than usual. Everything was cold in Russia, Gilbert thought, cold and gray. Ivan would pretend otherwise as best he could, the man would keep sunflowers in every room as long as he could and until the winter killed them. Through odd kindness or apology, Ivan would make sure the last living flower went to the German. In Autumn, Ivan tries every year to celebrate Oktoberfest with Russian beer and Gilbert smiled at the memory.

But no matter how blue you paint it, a ceiling is not a sky.

The blonde lifted his heavy head, his eyes half hidden by sandy colored lashes, and asked with the remorsefulness of a beaten dog to his owner "Are you mad at me?" Gilbert stiffened in surprise and quickly shook his head. "No." The smaller man took the Russian's rounded face in his hands and they kissed until neither of them felt miserable anymore. Ivan's hands grown rough by time and warfare held slim hips like fragile glass. He was not unlike the Russian bear, with giant paws that that could hold a cub and crush its skull.

Twenty years was a long time to get to know someone and in that span, Prussia knew the feeling of his ribcage cracking and splintering after each strike of an iron pipe and he also knew the feeling of the blonde's tears seeping through bandages as Russia begged forgiveness.

Ivan was not a monster, Gilbert admitted.

Was he crazy? Hell yes.

Violent? Sometimes.

Lonely?

…

No one seemed to care about that. No one cared about the nights he spent wide awake with nightmares, about the pain he felt when he hurt another living thing. Ivan is like a child with a pet, loving until it became suffocation.

"Why can't I go with you?" The blonde asked, feeling slightly better than before and Prussia felt his stomach tighten with guilt. "We've gone over this, I don't want you and brother starting another war."

The answer seemed to satisfy Russia and he would most likely ask again before the day was over, but for now, the room returned to silence.

"…Whose side would you choose, Gil?" Violet eyes studied him carefully, searching for anything resembling a preference. Gilbert closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He thought the majesty of rich forests and of frozen tundra, he thought of the taste of vodka and beer.

"I don't know." He lied flatly and he hated himself for the truth.

….

It was two weeks before the odd pair found themselves waiting at the crowded Moscow Station for a train. Sharp eyes darted around suspiciously, almost desperately in their search for a reason to keep his German safely in his grasp.

How was he going to survive a whole week without Gilbert when the longest they've spent apart could be measured with the hands of a clock? A week without hearing Russian unmercifully sweetened by an East German accent or tasting the untamed fire on his lips was more than Ivan could bear. He had given his lover permission to return to Germany but still tried to sabotage the trip at every turn. They almost missed the train because he "accidentally" broke Gilbert's alarm clock.

Prussia lanced sideways and gave Ivan's gloved hand a squeeze "Calm down already, neither of us are going to die."

Die?

The thought of his precious German's demise made his heart sink.

Quickly, he pulled the paler man to face him, strong hands bruising Prussia's shoulders despite his thick winter coat. "Promise me." He was desperate.

"What?" Gilbert was confused and saw the fear drawn on his companion's face. "Promise me you'll come home." The German wondered where Ivan's gloves went when an arm snaked around his waist and pulled him from the bench so he was nearly in the Russian's lap. Gilbert felt his face burn as thick fingers stroked his white hair and Russia didn't want to forget a single sensation. The younger man cursed his luck. Not here, not with so many people watching…

"...I-Ivan…Stop it…" He demanded weakly, as dull teeth scraped over his jugular and bit through skin. Just deep enough for the Russian to savor the metallic warmth on his tongue and he wanted to claim his lover then and there. "….I -ah- promise Ivan…"

Snapping out of a trace, an embarrassed Gilbert shoved him away while the Russian grinned.

"What are you so happy about?" the German snapped.

Blonde hair failed to hide eyes that shone unnaturally bright and Ivan's voice was low and predatory "You want it too, da? To be one with me?" He reached over and wiped away a line of drool from Prussia's red face, fingers tracing a line downward following the German's quickening pulse.

Ivan's expression soured when before he could go any farther, a whistle announced the arrival of the train. Gilbert stood and looked back at the Russian who was clutching his suitcase, the German gave it a tug and the other refused to yield. The childish man pressed the case to his chest, his arms wrapped around it until it was nearly covered. A rose scarf kept the secret of the distress on Ivan's face and he bit his lips to keep from crying out.

The smaller man felt great sympathy towards the Russian and something painful was gnawing at his insides. "I trust you Ivan, why can't you trust me?" He asked as he gave the Russian one last embrace and Ivan let him pull the case from his limp grasp and be kissed goodbye. Ivan's shoulders slumped and he admitted "I do trust you, it's the rest of the world that frightens me."

Prussia turned his back on the despairing blonde and Russia felt if he let this moment pass be would lose the German forever, he called after him "I love you Gilbert!"

The German did not respond to his confession, walking away from Ivan he was soon hidden in the crowd.

The blonde sat at the bench in heartrending silence until after the train left and dawn was creeping through the narrow windows. He stood and made his way outside, uncaring to the patrons forced out of his way.

A vehicle, bright and shiny black was waiting for him with a light dusting on late November snow on the buildings and streets. A sympathetic Lithuanian held open the door and Ivan accepted this small gesture without a word. The brunette started the car and glanced in his abuser's direction and felt a tinge of pity.

Earlier that day, Gilbert had asked Toris to be there to take Ivan home. Neither openly said why, but three wrecked cars, five burials, and over a month in the hospital proved Ivan could not be trusted to drive drunk or depressed.

The Lithuanian heard his name spoken and saw Ivan's weary face in the mirror "…Would you ever run away from me?" He asked mournfully and Toris froze, resisted screaming 'Yes!' at the top of his lungs.

Toris' dark brown eyes went back to road and he could feel pinpricks of fear on his back when he spoke "No Sir, I would not."

A burst of laughter shook the blonde and made the brunette shiver from more than the cold "You're a horrible liar Toris!"

He laughed until tears welled in his eyes "…but thank you anyway." The blonde distracted himself with the scenery passing by and felt a little better.

Toris wiped the cold sweat from his brow, feeling grateful and bitter for cheating death one more time.

It was still early morning when they returned to Ivan's drafty mansion in the heart of the city, the Russian drug his feet upstairs.

Toris hung up his hat with shaking hands and found comfort in Raivis and Eduard, who were waiting in the kitchen for him. They looked to the Lithuanian with restrained curiosity, all of them had suspicions of course, but no one dared to say it when Ivan was on the prowl. The brunette was apprehensive and spoke anyway "…Master Russia's in his room, he won't be out until he leaves for work."

He skittered to the cupboards, pulling out boxes of ingredients for his master's noon meal. "Ukraine taught me how to make pelmeni yesterday and I'll-"

Eduard snatched a bag of flour from his hands "You're avoiding the issue, where is German Democratic Republic?"

"He's on his way to his brother. Gilbert is free now."

"Does Ivan know?" He pried and Toris watched his shoes.

"…"

Estonia handed back the paper bag and crossed his arms in thought when the small blonde made himself heard "…Is Gilbert coming back?"

Eduard turned and snapped "Would you come back?" The petite blonde became ashamed of his weakness "I-I would…I would come back and save everyone."

Eduard snorted "Why would GDR save us?"

…..

Ivan spent the week in misery, he spent the days burying himself alive with work and came home dragging his feet up the stairs, spent the rest of the night drowning himself in alcohol. He found cold comfort in Gilbert's old room.

The powder blue room was where the German was imprisoned for the first few years of their 'relationship'. Ivan felt safe when he held the iron bars on the windows and when he draped the cotton sheets around his bulky frame. The cloth was still fragranced with his lover's scent and the Russian clung to it desperately. It was hard for him to say how Gilbert made the Russian feel, the closest he came was 'like gasoline'.

Because everything he touches burns to the ground and one drop, one taste, was all it took to consume you.

Ivan held a tear–streaked pillow to his chest and wished the week was over.

Toris would faithfully check on him every three hours and lament over the meals that were left untouched, the empty bottles that increased in number.

The brunette knocked on the painted steel surface and slid open the door when he received no reply "…Ivan? Master Ivan, excuse me…"

He craned his neck into the doorway and jumped back when a bottle exploded inches from where he stood.

The Russian sat up on the creaking bed and growled like a bear disturbed from hibernation "What is it?"

The Lithuanian froze, shaking in his shoes "German Democratic Republic is on the phone, sir."

His eyes lighting up as bright as stars, Ivan shoved the fragile man aside and ran down the stairs. He held the phone like a lifeline, curling the cord around his fingers eagerly "Hello, Ivan! Did you miss the awesome me?"

The Russian was in heaven! His heart fluttered and skipped a beat "Of course I did…I'm so happy you'll be home tonight, I wish it was sooner, I can hardly wait!"

There was silence on the line for a few seconds and Ivan felt a pang of worry that he pushed out his mind. He wasn't to ruin what they had with selfish doubting, he had to trust the man he loved.

"I'll be home around five and…Ivan?"

"Yes?" The blonde asked meekly.

"Thanks for letting me see my brother, it really means a lot to me. Thank you." The German was sad about something and tried not to show it.

Did he have a fight with Germany? Russia hoped he wasn't the cause.

There was a voice in the background, Ludwig most likely, and Gilbert had to leave. They said their goodbyes and Gilbert was the first to hang up.

….

"Why did you call him?" The younger German questioned.

Gilbert scratched his head, he really didn't know why but he felt like he had to. "Well, he gets pretty paranoid about things like this and nobody wants an angry Russian up the ass. Especially if it's Ivan."

Ludwig was doubtful and grabbed his arm "C'mon, we have a plane to catch remember?"

….

Gilbert trudged through shin-deep snow and most of his brother's words torn apart by the roar of an engine. Words spared by the biplane said something about being safe with America and the elder German's attention was caught by a hint of green mid-step.

He smacked the snow off his boot and peeled off a frozen, but familiar, petal. He turned over the piece of golden flora in his hands and cursed his luck. It was almost December, they should have been long dead. Prussia dropped to his knees and wincing at the immediate chill through thin cloth he searched for the rest of the plant. Digging up handfuls of snow and ice until reached the withered grass underneath. Gilbert cupped a bright blossom in his hands the color of warm sunshine, the blossom was missing a few petals but was otherwise intact. It was as if sunflower was oblivious and immortal to the blizzards and storm clouds that loomed overhead. Laughter bubbled up from Gilbert's stomach like so much bile as the guilt that ate away at his insides was being released.

A harsh pull and Ludwig's voice brought him back down to reality "What's wrong with you? The plane won't wait forever!" the blonde shouted to he heard. Gilbert looked the blossom in his hands for guidance and he tried to piece together words from the background noise of a train station. This mind replayed the phrase over and over again…

Each time more complete than before.

Why does it even matter?

The words make no sense.

Why did Ivan insist on sunflowers?

The fragments clicked into place and he smoothed away the static and the words became German.

"Ich liebe dich Gilbert"

I love you Gilbert

He felt a scream rise up from lungs "FUCK! What the hell am I doing here? It can't end like this!" The German was disgusted with himself for betraying the blonde, but vowed to make it right. Clutching the blossom to his chest, he bid a quick goodbye and prayed he had enough time. Ludwig's eyes widened when he saw his older brother bolting down the airstrip back to the road "East! What the hell are you doing!"

Prussia looked back once, permanently storing the image in his mind. Savoring every detail, from how the cloud darkened sky made the ground shine white to the very last color reflected in Ludwig's eyes, he locked the memory away like a diamond in a safe. He opened his mouth to speak; a goodbye, an apology, or an explanation, but no words felt right.

Gilbert felt like he was flying, he ran as fast as his legs could carry and leapt over hills of snow. He thought he heard his brother chasing after him or was it was the blood pounding in his ears? The wind whipped at his face and he felt freer than he had in almost a century. He had to fly faster!

…

Ivan checked his watch at 4:43PM and tried to contain his giddiness, it was seventeen minutes until Gilbert's train arrived. He was early, he knew, but didn't really mind it because he brought a newspaper to read. The Russian unfolded a section and began to read about the American stock market.

At 4:52PM, eight minutes until Gilbert's train arrived, he finished the article. It would have taken less time if he had not checked his watch after every sentence. More people began to arrive.

4:58PM, the train arrived two minutes early and Ivan desperately began searching amidst the throngs of people for a familiar boyish face and soft white hair.

It was 5:44PM and the last person on the train had long since left. He had assumed that they had missed each other and after the third sweep of the complex he realized the German wasn't there. Worry nipped at the blonde's heart and doubt flitted in his head. He passed it off as nothing "Prussia probably missed the train…" he mused and chuckled at the German's foolishness. "…Or yelled at a KGB when he reached the checkpoint." The thought of the short man ruffled and angry lifted Russia's spirits and he decided to wait for the next train.

6:17PM "What if he forgot his passport? What if he was arrested?" The Russian worried. If it was true then it could be weeks before Gilbert was let go. Nonsense, Ivan assured, all it would take was a phone call and he could pull some strings to let the German off with a slap on the wrist.

At 7:01PM the second train arrived a minute late. By this time, he had read the Moscow Star three times, completed all the puzzles, and wrote a three-page essay to the editor discussing how to improve the periodical so that it better fit in the communist five-year plan.

Hours passed way with worry and dread growing stronger with each moment. Ivan rubbed his aching stomach and he faced the horrible truth that Gilbert wasn't coming home. He looked back on the years they spent together ever since the end of the second Great War.

He hung his head in shame and felt his throat tighten up as he choked back tears. "I am to blame." His voice cracked with sadness. Ivan knew he made mistakes, but he believed from the bottom of his heart that if he prayed enough, loved him enough, his Gilbert would stay by his side forever.

He was never mine, was he? He loves Germany more than he will ever love a monster like me.

Was it all a lie, Gilbert? Were you using me? Please, don't say it was a lie… I only wanted you to stay.

I'm sorry that that I hurt you…I promise I won't do it again please, come home. I need you.

In a flood of shame and self-hate, Ivan buried his face in his hands and let the anguish consume him. The Russian did nothing to fight back against the agonizing pain in his heart that threatened to stop it once and for all. I'm better off dead, everyone hates me.

Tears streamed down his face and he cried out in choked sobs, no longer caring who heard him. I thought that…maybe…you didn't hate me. I-

A long whistle echoed off the station walls and Ivan glanced up, it was already midnight. He was too caught up in his depression he forgot about the last train then again it didn't matter anymore, he was never going to see Gilbert again. The Russian got to his feet and wiped salt away from his pink-stained eyes. Ivan swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to turn his back on the western world, at least for a few centuries. In the meantime he could-

"Damn it Ivan! WAIT!"

Bewildered, he turned in time to have a smaller body knock him to the floor.

…

"Jesus Christ! Don't you know the meaning of 'wait' you damn Russian bear!"

The blonde was splayed out on the beige tile floor, the contents of a suitcase flung every which-way, and a distraught German pulling on Ivan's scarf.

"Do you have any idea how close I was to leaving your sorry ass!" Gilbert ranted as Russia watched him continue, mystified "I worried myself sick about you, thinking you were waiting for me bawling your eyes out!" "…And when I'm getting on the plane to get away from your insanity, I see this-!" The smaller man drew a golden flower from his coat and threw it at the Russian's chest "…sticking out of the snow!"

Ivan carefully held the blossom like a newborn baby and felt warmth envelop his body. He came home.

The speech was over and Gilbert was breathless. He gulped air and hadn't noticed he was still lying on top of the Russian. "…I...I just…" Gilbert stuttered. Ivan reached up to touch Prussia's pale face "You were crying too, weren't you?" he asked with confusion.

"O-of course not…" The German's cheeks were tinged with embarrassment and he continued "…I think you drove me insane, I had to be reconnected three times to get here today because I can't live without you. Do you hear me Braginski? You've finally driven me crazy and I fucking love you."

At the lack of a reaction Gilbert gave an annoyed glare at the Russian, whose violet eyes were twinkling with a stupid grin. "Don't just smile like an idiot, say something!" He demanded.

Ivan tossed the sunflower aside and it hit the floor with the softest of sounds.

Russia wrapped his arms around his lover and crushed their lips together, Gilbert's world spun for a moment as the blonde spoke volumes with a kiss. He could taste the burn of alcohol in his mouth.

"Ivan…" He breathed.

"Say it again…Tell me that you love me." Ivan looked up to him with pleading violet eyes.

"I love you, you crazy bear…" Gilbert yanked the Russian towards him for another taste.

Ivan pushed his lover away before scooping him up in his arms, nuzzling his neck "I love you too, my white rabbit." The German blushed and scowled at the nickname "Rabbit!" he shouted.

"I think it fits you well." Ivan gave a toothy grin that Gilbert couldn't help but share.

The German wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and kissed his nose "…Let's go home, Ivan."

Russia set his lover down and the two of walked home holding hands, oblivious the cold December around them.