His steps were heavy on the snow covered ground, the trail they left almost glowing in the midday-sun. Toris shielded his eyes as he walked, trying to ignore the cold damp slowly seeping through his boots. Of course they weren't made to handle this kind of weather - Ivan had probably had them specially made, in order to prevent such an attempt at escape. Not that Toris was bitter or anything.
From the corners of his vision, a shadow. Toris froze in his tracks, looking nervously behind him. Nothing but the blatant tracks that he'd long since given up trying to cover. He was really no good at this. The entire plan - and it wasn't really much of a plan - rested on Russia not coming after him.
And then what? In his heart of hearts, the nation knew that he'd only be dragged back here, through ice and snow. He had nowhere to go but home, and home would be the first place his tormentor would look, if he wished to.
Then there was the matter of his brothers. Not that they seemed to have any idea of their captors true colours, and if things went to plan, they wouldn't. Toris and Ivan had an agreement. An agreement which Toris was, in fact, skipping out on. Right now.
He'd be back. He could be back in a few days, as promised. He just had to be back home again, just once. He had to tell Feliks what an asshole he'd been, to let this happen. They had to make up again, like they always did. There was a million and one things that Toris had to do, in his own country, and each and everyone of them whirled around in his head like a snowstorm, the beating of a drum, always urging him forwards into the harsh, biting cold.
He trusted himself to find home, even if it took him years.
---
"Toris?" The tall man poked his head around the door to the kitchen, his inquisitive gaze met only by the trembling one of Latvia. Russia frowned, and shut the door a little too loudly, as was apparent from the small thud on the other side of it.
He'd looked all over the house in the last few hours, and the human staff were beginning to wonder.
"Mr. Braginsky?" Asked one of the more curious maids, tilting her head to one side. "Are you looking for our guest?" The word 'guest' was laced with ambiguity, as if Toris was some strange, unknown creature that Ivan had dragged in from the garden. In a way, he was, not that the real people were supposed to know that.
"I was, yes." Russia frowned again, brushing past the girl. His fellow nation would be here somewhere, he supposed.
An hour later, and Ivan had triple checked the house. He'd even checked the gardens, not that he could see very much. It was snowing outside, and a haze of bluish mist had settled over the skyline. No help there.
The idea set Ivan thinking, though. It was obvious now, that at least one of the Baltics knew the whereabouts of their brother. Raivis was still recovering from his little fainting spell earlier, and so it fell to the remaining brother to explain the situation. Russia would make sure that he explained it in full, for maximum clarity.
"Eduard, where is Toris?" Ivan asked innocently, sitting down on a chair. It creaked a little, adding to the fact that this whole scenario was horribly out of place. Estonia took a sharp breath in. So he did know, then.
"I don't know?" The wavering tone only added to the man's obvious guilt. Not to mention the fact that he was very carefully declining to meet Ivan's gaze.
"Has he gone somewhere? Is he hiding?" Russia persisted with his questioning, well aware of the fact that Estonia couldn't help but buckle under pressure, a trait common in both of his brothers. Eduard seemed suddenly very interested in the coat rail, situated just behind Ivan's shoulder. Russia followed his line of sight, and noticed a very conspicuous detail - two of the four coats belonging to the nations of the house were missing. He turned back to Estonia, who was trying to look innocent.
"Eduard, where is he? Please." Russia said, quietly. Estonia bit his lip. The game was up, it appeared.
"He said he'd only be a little while..." There was genuine concern in the man's voice now, as the two nations reached the same conclusion.
Toris Laurinaitis , Representation of the country of Lithuania, was missing.
Russia stood up abruptly, causing the chair he was sat on to topple over, and Estonia to lean back, as though he might be the next unintended victim. Without a word, Russia was donning his usual coat, not even bothering to fix his scarf before he was out into the snow, leaving the door swinging on its slightly rusted hinges.
The cold air blew in, swirling around Eduard's feet as his boss disappeared into the snow. The slightest trace of a tan coat seemed to melt into the distance, and it was only when Russia had completely vanished from sight that Estonia had the mind to close the door before too much snow got in.
---
Toris felt his eyes begin to grow heavy. He was sat on the ground, a little dazed from a lengthy battle to avoid being struck by tree branches, which ultimately ended with him stumbling in the wrong direction. He was lost, it appeared. And very, very cold, even with Eduard's coat added to his own. He could barely feel his feet and hands, the latter of which seemed to have gone a soft shade of purple. Lithuania winced. Could he even get frostbite?
When he next woke up, he was on the floor, with a slight headache. Less of a headache than a strange, numb feeling at the back of his mind. Toris liked snow, he decided, gently forming some of it into a pile. So clean, so bright... surprisingly comfortable. He shook his head to remove some of the snow settling on it, and decided he'd be better off just going to sleep. Or staying awake. After all, he had to think rationally here. Or try to, at least. He'd already wasted enough time lying here, any minute now, Ivan could appear out of nowhere and take him back, and that absolutely could not happen. After all, he had to see Feliks.
Then again, moving seemed far too difficult. He wouldn't be here too long. A short nap, just a short nap, that would give Toris the energy to outrun Ivan, should he need to.
His eyes shut, just as the snow began to settle on his shivering form.
---
Ivan stumbled through the trees, listening carefully for any sound. Toris' footprints had gone this way, but the falling snow was covering them all too quickly.
"Toris!" He repeated, over and over, hoping for even the slightest reply. Nothing. He'd even lost the footprints. At least he knew the way back home from here, maybe Toris had given in and come home already? It was wrong of him, Ivan thought, to make his only friend worry so. He started to turn back, before noticing something in the corner of his eye.
The patch of fabric was torn, flying in the cold air like a flag. It was dark, the same colour as Eduard's coat. Russia inspected it cautiously, perring down the avenue of trees it had come from. Toris, he knew, had borrowed Eduard's coat. It would fit him, after all.
Moving aside branches as he went, Ivan quickened his pace when he realised that the trees led to a tiny clearing, the afternoon light shining softly through the branches.
No Toris. Ivan sighed, disappointed. He'd so hoped to find him here, safe and waiting for his friend to take him back home again.
A soft cough, from somewhere near his feet. Ivan looked down, behind him. Toris?
"Hello?" Russia kneeled down beside the shivering mass of fabric and snow, softly pushing back a strand of dark-brown hair to reveal the sleeping face of his friend. He was shivering in sudden bursts - as least that meant he had to be alive, still. Ivan shook him, gently, hoping that he would wake up. He frowned when the other nation barely opened his eyes.
"Toris? Toris, wake up!" Russia found it easy to lift Lithuania's tiny form, a reminder that he really ought to persuade his charges to eat more. With the man secured in his arms, Russia began to make his way back through the trees. This time around, he didn't bother to move the branches aside, he merely smashed through them, spreading snow every which way, to add to the frozen droplets cascading through the air around the two of them.
Once out of the woods, it would be harder, Ivan knew. How he hated the cold, trying to take a friend away from him. Toris was still shivering, but much less violently. He began to open his eyes as Russia studied his pulse for what must have been the fiftieth time, and immediately made a feeble attempt to escape from the safety of his arms.
"L-leave me..." He managed at last, clearly disorientated. "Don't want t'go..." He began to shiver again, and continued with similar protests as Ivan made his way across the snowy road leading to the house. A little way off from the door, he managed a small cry for help, although the cold wind soon stole it from his lips before it could reach any further than Ivan's ears. It hurt, a little, to hear his one and only saying things like that. Perhaps they would have words, later.
The door swung open for the second time that day, to the surprise of the two nations that were somehow crowding the kitchen.
"Tor-" Raivis made as if to run to his brother, but was stopped just in time by Eduard, whose grim expression stopped his younger brother from doing anything but following, at a safe distance, as Toris was carried through the hall and up the stairs.
Two staff members, the ones Raivis wasn't supposed to talk to, appeared a little while later, with coals and tinderboxes. A fire? Raivis followed them for a way down the hall, but stopped as he heard quiet sobbing coming from Toris' room. He knew from experience what that meant, and with a customary shiver, made his way back downstairs, unaware of the maids gossiping behind him.
---
The fire sparked and crackled, reflecting orange light on the clothes hung beside it - The coats, pants and whatever other items Toris had been wearing. The aforementioned nation was currently staring into space, huddled under layers of blankets, and occasionally coughing. He still seemed a little disorientated, even after all Ivan had done for him. Strange.
Ivan himself was cheerily examining the tear in Eduard's coat.
"Hm, perhaps someone will fix it, da?" He chimed, trying to incite a response. Lithuania was no fun like this. He had to make sure this wouldn't happen again.
Deciding that Toris must still be cold, Ivan sat beside him by the fire, pulling him into an embrace with slightly more force than was strictly necessary. Then again, he didn't want Toris to start running away again, did he? Toris shivered, and Ivan preferred to think it was because of the cold. It was odd, Toris didn't seem to be feeling any better. He was still coughing, and crying for some reason. At least his hands weren't all blotchy any longer, and his lips had by now reverted to a less obvious shade.
"Why are you crying, Toris?" Russia said, slightly quieter than before. It served as a serious tone to what had previously been a series of inane statements.
Toris shook his head.
"'m not..." He said, blatantly hiding the truth.
"You sound like Berwald~" Russia immediately went back to another discussion, one that ended up being one sided, as his companion slowly drifted off to sleep on his shoulder.
Russia smiled a smile most unlike him - one completely devoid of psychopathic tendencies. He pulled the blankets around both of them, and leaned back against the bedside cabinet.
"Toris?" He began, quietly. After a little while, when there was no answer, he continued anyway.
"You won't try to leave again, will you?" He said, trying to disguise the hurt in his voice with his usual cold obsession.
After a minute or so, he realised Toris was snoring gently, and, afraid that he would wake the sleeping nation if he moved, Ivan leaned back, uncomfortably, and did his best to sleep.
The fire burnt out to the sounds of contented snoring.
