A/N: I got a few requests for another chapter, so I wrote one! ^J^ There's one more coming, I think, and then I'll wrap the story up. And to everyone who reviewed: Thanks a ton! I really appreciate it!

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Ugh, how could he possibly miss that big, stupid brute?

Heracles had no idea how such a thing was possible, but it was the truth: He missed Sadik.

He missed the big idiot every day, though it was incredibly painful to own up to it. Sadik had treated him so badly during the Ottoman period, but there was still a sense of fondness to it. Sadik wanted to see how Heracles would react to such things. It seemed like the Turk had been fascinated by him.

Of course, knowing this hardly made Heracles feel better. Sadik was like that with everyone: Gupta and Elizaveta, too.

Heracles had always loved him, though. Even when the Turk was fighting with him, beating him to a bloody pulp in battle, Heracles knew that it would make him stronger in the long run, and for that, he was grateful.

Intermingled with the love, though, was a strong sense of hatred. Sadik had hurt him more times than he could count. The Turk had been fully aware of it, too, and he even seemed to be enjoying it at times.
It was that lingering hatred that made Heracles so reluctant to reveal how he truly felt. Sadik would laugh at him, leave him all alone.

He'd still have Kiku, but it wasn't the same. Kiku didn t complete him the way Sadik did. There was really no comparison between the two.

That's why he was on a departing flight from Athens after a long talk with Kiku. It was hard to tell the smaller nation what was going on, but the soft, knowing smile on Kiku's face was reassurance enough. It was time.

"We will be landing shortly. Please place your chairs in the upright position and be sure to close your seatbelts!"

Heracles took a deep breath.

Tomorrow.

He would tell Sadik how he felt tomorrow. He would be calm by then, or so he hoped. Maybe he d find a cat or two to keep him company.

The plane was soon emptied, and Heracles was surprised to see a certain Turk waiting for him in the lobby of the airport. He was speaking, but Heracles said nothing, just stepping closer to the older nation.

Before he could stop himself, the Greek had grabbed the front of Sadik's jacket, pulling the taller man down into a kiss. Though they weren t the exact words he wanted to say, three little words slipping past his lips nonetheless: "I missed you."