Disclaimer: I in no way own or claim any rights to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and justly so. This was written solely for the entertainment of others.
He fiddled with the glass before him, turning it in his fingers. Then he tipped the glass back and swallowed the vodka in one gulp. He smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was drunk; he hadn't been this drunk in a long time. Of course it was hard for a nation to get drunk, especially a nation as big as Ivan. He looked at the bottle on the table before him. There was just enough left for another glass, then he would need a new bottle. He leaned forward and poured. Then he got up, a little unsteadily, and walked to the empty kitchen. He dropped the empty bottle into a nearly full bin of recyclables before opening the fridge.
"Hello, beautiful number five." He murmured to the new bottle. When he returned to the sitting room he stoked up the fire and sank back into his chair. He lifted the glass and sipped, savoring the vodka on his tongue. Normally he would only drink two bottles of vodka, but, today had been one of those days. A day that made him want to drown himself in something.
He raised the glass and smiled at it. "It's nice to spend the evening with an old friend, da?" Then he laughed remembering how he had once told Toris that all the vodka in Mother Russia could not get him drunk. Toris had laughed nervously, all the while looking like a rabbit in a fox's den. That had been over forty years ago. He sighed and the sigh echoed around the large sitting room. Forty years ago, this room would have been full. Toris, Yekaterina, Eduard, Raivis, Natalia, Feliks, Elizaveta, even Gilbert would have been here with him; and he could always count on Yao to stop by to share a drink and talk. But they had all left him.
First Yao; he gritted his teeth at the memory and finished his glass. He opened bottle number five and poured himself a fresh glass. Even now Yao was still wary of him. They had had so much in common; Yao understood the pain of history, Yao had never been frightened of him. He drank; glass clinked against glass as he poured himself another. He watched the firelight dance through the clear liquid. It was actually hot in here. He loosened the scarf around his neck.
He remembered when Yekaterina had given it to him as a small boy. Yekaterina, she was such a hard worker. He smiled as he fingered the stitches. It had been hard in those early years but he had been happy, him, Yekaterina, and Natalia. He frowned and drank, maybe not Natalia at least not until they had grown up. He sighed again, in the end even Natalia had left him; they had all left him alone. Was that his fate? To be left alone by others with only General Winter for company. He swore and threw the glass against the stone fireplace.
When things had gotten to their worst, when he could no longer keep up with America, they had all deserted him. Yao had simply stood by and watched. Gilbert and his brother had toppled the Berlin wall. Toris, Elizaveta, Feliks, Raivis, and Eduard had run out as soon as they had gotten the chance. Even his own sisters had abandoned him. He stood up and paced angrily kicking at the furniture and drinking from the bottle. So, no one needed Russia? The idiots, the fools, everyone needed Russia! It was Russia who needed no one; it was Russia who decided to help others, to take care of the world. But no, they would defy him! He smashed a small table with his fist. Why, why, why?
Ivan continued to storm through the sitting room breaking furniture and drinking. When the bottle was empty he threw it on the floor and continued to pace ignoring the broken glass beneath his boots. He would show them all. They had seen him rise from his darkest hour, there was nowhere else for him to go but up. He would leave them all behind, then, they would beg him. Beg on bended knees for his aid, his recognition. They would see how much they needed him. He was walking through the hall on the way to the kitchen when he staggered and grasped the hall table to regain his bearings.
As he steadied himself he looked into the mirror hanging above it. His reflection looked positively wild. His pale cheeks were flushed, his hair in disarray, his mouth twisted in contempt, his purple eyes were wide as he stared at the animal in the mirror. He stared for a moment longer, then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Standing upright got harder and he had to sink to his knees on the hall carpet. He braced his hands on the floor before him as the laughter shook his body and tears streamed from his eyes. Eventually the laughter subsided until only the tears remained.
Ivan Braginski cradled his head in his hands as the tears flowed, tears of anger, frustration, regret, and sorrow. He sat back against the wall and waited for the tears to stop. When they finally did he considered going for another bottle or returning to the sitting room. He rose slow and shaky. Then there was a rumbling and the whole house shook, he crashed back to floor and his world went black.
When he woke it was horribly bright. Swearing softly he tried to sit up, only to wish he hadn't. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he leaped out of bed and into the bathroom where he was violently sick for what seemed like forever. When he had finished throwing up he staggered back into the hall and leaned on the door frame of his bedroom for support. He head hurt so badly he felt sick and achy all over. This was not normal hung-over human pain, this was national pain; Russia was hurting. Something had happened to him but he couldn't remember what, how long had he been out? He closed his eyes willing the pain to subside.
"Ivan!"
He opened his eyes and turned toward the stairway. Yekaterina stood at the head of them followed closely by Natalia. She came forward and took his arm.
"You should be in bed resting."
"Yekaterina, Natalia, what are you doing here?"
Natalia came up and took his other arm, holding it more like a possession than as if she wanted to support him.
"The earthquake" said Yekaterina, "We were worried about you. We thought you would be in bad shape because it happened really close to Moscow."
They helped him back into the bedroom and he sank onto the bed wearily massaging his forehead.
"This only shows that you need someone to take care of you." said Natalia, "Marry me and I'll never leave you."
He decided to ignore that, "Can I have something to drink?"
Ukraine smiled, "I'll go and ask Toris if breakfast is ready." Downstairs the doorbell rang. "Natalia will you get that?"
He watched them walk out, Yekaterina shooing a reluctant Natalia before her. His sisters and Toris were here to make sure he was alright; people were coming to visit him? He looked around his bedroom. It was flooded with sunlight, and filled with sunflowers. There were at least six vases of sunflowers. He heard footsteps outside and turned toward the door. Alfred F. Jones stood there.
"Ah Ivan, I'm glad you're up." He looked around the room. "I see mine is not the first." He passed Ivan a potted sunflower. Attached to a stake in the ground was a small card that read "Get Well Soon!"
"Thank you." He said, wishing America did not see the need to talk so loudly all the time.
"You're welcome." Alfred grinned. "And don't worry; you'll be back on your feet in no time."
"America?" They both turned and in the doorway stood Yao.
"China." said Alfred with a polite nod. There was a loud thump downstairs and the garbled sound of voices.
"I'll go see if they need any help downstairs, Eduard and Raivis are moving your furniture back into place. That earthquake knocked a few things around." He clapped Ivan on the shoulder and disappeared downstairs shouting if anyone needed any heroic help.
Yao closed the door on the noise. "How are you feeling-aru?"
"A little sore." He admitted. He set the potted sunflower on his bedside table.
Yao watched him a moment then sighed. "You should be more careful. When I found you, you smelled like a distillery-aru." Ivan thought about the five bottles of vodka and hung his head rubbing it. Yao looked around the room then held out the bouquet at his side. "Here, I thought you might like a little variety-aru." It was filled with sunflowers and peonies. Ivan took it gazing at the bright mix of yellow and pink.
"You found me?"
"Yes. After the earthquake happened I came over to see how you were-aru. That's when I found you lying in the hallway. I was carrying you upstairs when your sisters came-aru."
Ivan stared at the slender Chinese man for a moment trying to imagine him carrying him upstairs. "Thank you." He said simply.
Yao's lips curved in a small smile, "You are my friend-aru."
Authoress Note and Historical Notes:
Hey this is my first Hetalia fanfic. I wrote it back in March but only uploaded now because I was trying to resist creating an account. But that's a different story for not this site.
In this fic I was trying to better understand the character of Russia. I'd been into the anime series for a while and Russia intrigued me because he was portrayed as his happy, yandere, insane little self and that seemed pretty flat to me. Thus I was thinking about him a lot and reading about him a lot and this fic evolved. What do you think of this portrayal? I have other stories that feature him which will be uploaded and are probably better than this one, just because I know more now than I knew them. But Reviews are wonderful and so are all you readers.
This fic is basically a Sino-Soviet Split fic, only it takes place in modern times. The Sino-Soviet Split was the worsening of relations between the People's Republic of China and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics during the Cold War (1945-1991). But recently China and Russia resigned The Treaty of Good-Neighborliness and Friendly Cooperation in 2001 which hearkens back to the Sino-Soviet Treaty of Friendship which was signed in 1945. So the fic is kind of a combination of the Split, the Fall of the USSR, and 2001 Friendship Treaty.
Yekatrina is (one of) the unofficial fandom human name(s) for Ukraine.
Peonies are the national flower of China.
The earthquake is a plot device.
Please review. Thanks for reading.