A/n: After the Germans left Ukraine the country was pretty much destoryed. The soviets, realizing what had happened introduced a "Scorched Earth" policy which meant that Ukraine was pretty much fucked argicultural wise. So I wanted to try and play that over into the Hetalia verse and thus this what happened.

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Dead.

That was how one would describe the once beautiful lands of Ukraine. Scorched, burned, ravaged...broken. She was wrong. So very wrong. Germany did not help her people. The Soviets were not helping no matter how much she believed they were. No one helped her, no one cared. She was always taken advantaged of, always soft...always...

"I can't stand it..."

Her voice was dry, raspy. She had finally saw through the haze of lies, those gentle soothing words the German had spoken to her as he got close to her. Once the veil was lifted she tried so hard to fight back against him. She betrayed her children, her people, this was how she would make up for it and yet much like her lands she was not meant for fighting and so she fell. Hard. The sky was darkened as the smell of rain hung heavily in the air. Blue-gray eyes clouded over in sadness as she stood, head tilting upwards to stare at the darkening clouds.

"Sestra?" He asked, voice hallow as he looked to the woman who raised him, held him.

She did not notice his approach, nor the feel of his arms as he fell to his knees, clinging to her, crying. She did not register anything. Only a cold, aching numbness in her chest. So many of people dead. By the Soviets. By the Germans...by her own hands she let them do as they will, believing they were helping her. A fool. Such a naïve, trusting fool.

"Sestra..." He looked up at her, eyes filled with regret and sadness. Had he known truly how things were he would have tried harder to protect her but it was only in his moments of clarity, when the red haze of Communism did not blind him did he ever really notice the horrors that had gone on.

He could handle them, hide those feelings and be the cold, unfeeling general he needed to be but when he saw his poor sister in such a state, his very own mother figure everything went cold. He clung to her tighter, burying his face into her chest, clutching at her shirt, pulling at it.

"Please sestra, please look at me!" He begged, looking to her again. Only then did her own meet his.

"Hello Ivan..." she whispered, smiling sadly to him as her tears landed on his cheeks. "Oh brother, don't cry..." she whispered once more, leaning down to kiss away the tears, hugging him to her tightly as her own tears fell against her will.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's alright..."

"Nyet! It is not alright! I..."

Yaketerina smiled gently and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing the Russian. "I said it's alright, you had no idea. I'll be fine though, I promise. I'm not of concern, but you and Belarus. You two are my only concerns now. I'll protect you."

"Nyet! NYET! You will NOT!" The Russian's voice was filled with pain as he stood, taking her face into his hands and looked at her. "I will help you. I'll protect you..."

Yaketerina broke down sobbing then, clinging to him. The pain...all of her pain was being released and Russia, unaccustomed to comforting, just held her. His boss would deifnitely help him, he knew that. After all no one messed with his sisters, espcially not Ukraine. "Ivan..."

"It will be better soon."

Yet the tender hearted female could not help but feel things would not be better for a very long time.