Since all of my reviewers wanted it, here's the second chapter! I just hope none of this story is too disturbing for my readers...

I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/

Lithuania was trapped within his own memories, dead to humankind but not dead to God. He remembered his other attempts at this state, where he felt so little, so slowly. Once, he had cut his arms open, and just lay on his bathroom floor, waiting to bleed out. He'd finally passed out, and spent what seemed only a moment in that state until he woke and discovered himself in a pool of mostly dried blood, but his arms had healed up. He had felt despair at this, as it was his first attempt. That had been a few years back.

It had been a while until he'd worked up his courage (for which he had once been so famous, but now used to attempt to end his own life) and he tried again. This time, he stood on top of the tallest building in Vilnius. The wind had whistled around him, and he'd nearly backed down, before, in a burst of courage, he had forced himself off of the building. The ground had rushed up to meet him, and as soon as he hit it, he'd blacked out.

But then he'd woken up, with an agonizing headache and an aching body (he'd probably broken every bone in his body), and he was quite alive. In fact, he'd limped home shortly after. He couldn't comprehend, while the damage was being repaired in his brain, that he'd failed, and had stared listlessly at the walls until it had dawned on him. That had been a dark day.

The last time, he had taken well over 500mg of painkillers, and he would never forget how that felt. He'd gone into a seizure, foaming at the mouth and in a lot of pain. It had taken a little while, but he'd finally blacked out. However, he awoke again, as intact as ever, if a mess.

No one had noticed any of these times, not his next door neighbors, an old couple on one side of his tiny house and a young family on the other, not his government, and definitely not his fellow countries. In fact, he would be surprised if they noticed he was missing now before a week or so went by. But they would never find him, so it did not matter when they started looking.

That was right... nothing mattered now. Not now that he was down in the water, which he had to remind himself that was where he was, unable to revive. His heart no longer beat, his blood no longer ran. He was as cold as any corpse, and yet, so numb anyway, he couldn't feel it, but he knew he was cold.

Here he would stay, until his country faded away, just like the Roman Empire, Livonia, Germania, and so many other countries before him. He would not be remembered. He would not be missed. And most of all, he would not be hurt or in pain.

Suddenly, his dark little world was interrupted, as his back scraped against a wooden surface and a great pressure slammed against his chest. "Hurk!" Out came the water that had filled his lungs; in came air, air that had never tasted so good. He hadn't known he'd missed it until now.

Lithuania breathed raspily, and he heard a shout of, "He's waking up! He's waking up!" His eyes slowly opened, and he got a glimpse of the bright, bright world, and he saw a few people: America, Russia and England, of all people. He shut his eyes again, shudders racing up and down his body violently. "Wrap him in this," came the unusually solemn command from Russia, and he felt himself being bundled up in something.

"He's probably going into shock," England pointed out, and it sounded as though he were farther away than the others. Lithuania's eyes slowly opened again, and he took in the scene. America, sopping wet, was squatting down next to him, blue eyes wide and filled with protective instinct. It was as though he felt there was something to protect him from. Russia stood a little farther back, his coat quite absent from his body, and instead Lithuania could see he was wearing a sweater and nice pants. His face was indecipherable, and Lithuania could not guess in the slightest if he was happy or angry, though it looked to be one or the other.

England stood a little ways beyond Russia, and he had flipped out his phone, punching in a number, and waiting for the reciever of the call to pick up. America was the first one to speak. "Lithuania, buddy, we thought you were a goner!"

"What do you mean 'we'? Russia and I knew he couldn't be dead," England snapped at America, clearly annoyed with his lack of knowledge. Russia only stiffly nodded. Somehow, America managed to smile. "Well, it's okay now, because we found you!"

Lithuania felt his lower lip begin to tremble, but it was impossible for the others to notice with his constant shuddering. America continued on, face suddenly turning deadly serious. "Lithuania, I need you to tell me: who did this to you? Because, if it was some terrorist group, I swear I'll-"

"No one," whispered Lithuania shakily, avoiding America's eyes. "-ing hunt them down and- wait, what did you say? Speak up!" Lithuania barely managed to bite back the tears, saying louder, "I-I did it m-m-myself..."

America was dumbfounded, and he stared at Lithuania as though he had never seen him before in his life. "What...? But, you can't really mean... You would never..." Russia's angry words interrupted him, however, as the behemoth nation suddenly stepped around and he seized the front of Lithuania's shirt, pulling him up so he was face to face with him.

"Lithuania, I have never expected such selfish behavior from you! You, who was once a proud warrior! What will you say to your brothers? What are you going to tell them? That you don't care what happens to them? And what about the rest of us, who have been searching for you for a week? Do you not care about us?" Russia paused in his tirade to hear Lithuania's pitiful answer.

"I-I... I didn't think you'd come!" His voice was a mere whisper of what it would normally be, and Russia glared down at him. "Did you think we would take your disappearance so lightly, or were you really so foolish as to believe we would forget you?"

Lithuania began to cry now, the barely held back tears coming down in a torrent. America snapped into action, hating to see people cry. "Leave him alone, Russia!" He pulled Lithuania back out of Russia's grasp, and the tall Russian let him go. Lithuania immediately pressed his face against America's strong shoulder, and sobbed harder.

America glared at Russia. "Can't you see he's already been through a lot of crap? Quit yelling at him!" Russia coldly replied, "He needs to understand the gravity of what he's done. Half the world came looking, just for him."

"You're heartless," America accused, wrapping his arms around Lithuania. "He just revived, and you're already dumping all this crap on him! And you haven't even asked him why he did it! You don't care about him, you're just upset you had to miss watching your favorite show or whatever."

Russia gave him a cold glare, but said nothing. America waited until Lithuania had finished sobbing, then lifted him bridal style. "We'd better take him back to his house. You don't have to come, Russia." England got off the phone just then, with a sigh. "I've called all the search parties. They're regrouping at the embassy."

America nodded, and led the way back to the car. Russia and England followed. Lithuania quavered inside. He was afraid of what kind of questions they might make him answer when they got him back to his house. But for now, he was warm in Russia's coat, and safe in America's arms.

/AN/ Wow, I think I'm going to make this three chapters! I hope you've been able to appreciate this story so far...