A/N: So... this was not planned. I'm literally writing this as it comes to me. It doesn't have any historical tie-ins, so anything you notice is totally by accident. I'm writing this for entertainment value, not as a history lesson so don't give me crap about it.

Human names and country names used.

Enjoy the SuFin~

"Y'r'e... wha'?" The Swede couldn't believe his eyes. He'd stared at the papers, willing the words to read differently. Finland sat on the other side of the table, holding a wide eyed Sealand to his side. He didn't look different to him. He seemed the same as always. Same cute figure, same gentle touch for their son, same loving look in his eyes. Nothing different. Nothing wrong.

He couldn't have cancer.

"Su-san... they say it's nothing to worry too much about. They caught it early... earlier than most. I was lucky. They'll just preform a surgery and some chemo-therapy and it'll be done with." The smaller man leaned forward, grabbing the taller man's chin and tilting it up so he could look him in the eyes. "I'll be fine, Su-san."

"But... I thought only girls got cancer," the micro-nation piped up, his voice shaking slightly. He looked up, his blue eyes pleading. Berwald couldn't hold the boy's gaze.

It was Finland who turned to comfort the boy. He brushed the boy's bangs from his forehead and sighed, "I wish that were true... But you're probably thinking of breast cancer, and even that can happen to men. But I have something else. Colon cancer."

Sweden watched as his "wife" explained, but he couldn't look when Peter started crying. He had to walk away, or risk crying too. He couldn't do that to Finland. He had enough to deal with, he didn't need his fear added to it.

Hanatamago whimpered as he walked past on his way to the door. Deciding to spare the dog a bit of misery, he clipped a leash onto her collar and dragged her out the door with him. He really did have to drag her; the little dog just didn't seem to get that her favored master wasn't coming along.

"C'me 'n, dog... 'e's g'tta rest... G'tta ge' be'er. th'n we c'n go 'n a walk t'gether." He grimaced at his own voice crack. He wasn't going to lose it. Not even in front of the dog. Finland needed him. ... And I'm running away like a coward. He glanced over his shoulder at his house, trying to decide. He wanted to go back, to comfort his wife and son. But he didn't want to face the reality that Finland, Tino, his wife and lover, was sick, possibly irreparably so.

So he kept walking. He didn't really know where he was going, but he knew he couldn't turn back. Finally, in a small park, he stopped. It was early evening, still early enough for children to be playing on the swings, but late enough to see a group of teenagers playing football, and a couple of college students kissing on a bench. Early enough that people were there, but late enough that they were busy with their own business, and took no notice of the tall, imposing man sitting on the basketball court with a small, fluffy dog.

He sat there for quite some time, watching the game, watching the sun set, watching the kids play, letting his mind fill with the images of a goal, a pretty piece of scenery, and a cute kid on a jungle gym, with the sounds of crickets and cicadas, cheers and arguing, a playful giggle and squeal. Anything but his family and his situation.

He did go back eventually. Despite the heartache, he wasn't going to abandon Tino and Peter. He couldn't. They were his whole world. So he walked back, carrying a sleeping Hanatamago.

No one was downstairs when he opened the door. He sighed, flicked on a light, and went to set the still resting dog on the couch.

He made it upstairs before someone saw him.

"Su-san? Is that you?"

Berwald flinched, turning away.

"Su-san? What's the matter? Where were you?"

He didn't sound angry. Concerned, a bit sleepy, but not angry. Why? It'd be better if he was. He could calm him. Comfort him. But he wasn't. He didn't even sound frightened.

"Are you OK?"

The first tear fell when the younger man touched his arm.

The second when he turned to face him.

By the time Tino had his arms around him, he was weeping uncontrollably. He shuddered and leaned down, burying his head in the other's shoulder.

"Shh, shh, it's alright Su-san. It'll all be ok..."

Finland's comforting words only made him cry harder. How can he be so brave? He's the one who's sick. I should be holding him. I should be comforting him. Not the other way around.

Tino continued to hold the shaking man, gently kissing his wet cheeks once and a while. Finally, when Sweden stopped, the two men looked at each other. The taller man rubbed his eyes, still shaking a bit.

"I'm s'rry, T'no," he hiccuped, his voice sounding more strained than usual. "I w'nna pr'tect y' I w'nna b' 'ere f'r y'. Y' sh'ldn't 'ave t' s m' cry." He stopped, in danger of breaking down again.

"Hush, Berwald. Don't even worry about that," Finland wrapped his arms around the other nation once more, this time burying his face in the other's chest. "Your crying lets me know you care."