Rather You Than Me – Part 4
If I'm publishing this, it must be a Sunday again… time, trickling by…
You can thank my procrastination skills and my totally impossible Quadratic Formula homework for me being here. Quadratics are the worst… ;(
Reviews were so nice! *hugs you all.*It's been… it's been a not-so-easy few weeks, I can tell you, so thank you so much for sticking with this and putting up with me. It means a lot, honestly.
Thank you also to KaijinKyn, autumnkitten25, jebivjetar, Chengwangofmacau and Padfoot the epic GLOWSTICK – you, my friend, made my day with the BEST. USERNAME. EVER! – for following/favouriting! (And anybody I missed )
This first bit because I NEED LITHUANIA IN A COWBOY HAT! (If anyone can draw that I will virtually kiss you. In, like, a non-creepy way. Okay, officially shutting up.)
America, August 1926.
The brunet boy is wandering through fields, and the scent of Summer hangs in the air as he walks, just brushing his hands among the golden wheat, cowboy-hat askew. He hadn't wanted to wear it, particularly, but Alfred had jammed it on to his head when he wasn't prepared – and anyway, Poland has forced him to put on worse things over the years.
"Hey, Lithuania, my main dude! You coming?"
Strong hands help him up into the pick-up truck, and they're bouncing down the roads again, gazing at the vast expanse of a sky and the cushiony clouds which hang lazily above their heads. America is wittering on about his new dances and how he doesn't really like prohibition and not to tell his boss about the whiskey they're sharing, but Lithuania isn't really listening.
He has never been so relaxed. What with the war over at last; pretty much having his independence; spending time away from home - and all the worrisome heartache the nations he loves cause him...
He's reluctant to admit how blissful it is.
The land of the free…
Shaking his head out of his reverie, Lithuania let the memory slip from the forefront of his mind. This was not the time for melancholic daydreaming. Prussia sat staring directly at him, metal headband digging into his forehead, electrodes chaining him to a frightening machine that Toris did not want to look directly at. Russia stood beside it, playing with the buttons and lights and spitting dials like a mesmerised child.
He's like a toddler with a machine gun…
Trying to blink back that imagery, he braced himself for what was to come.
"Now, Toris, you get to choose," Ivan was chatting away. "You are having thirty seconds to decide. Red button, you take the shock. Blue button, Gilbert takes the shock. Neither, you say? You face the forfeit. Ready?"
Could he ever be ready?
"Da. Ready."
Cuba set a small clock on the table, and started the timer. Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Look, Litauen, I know you don't like me. It's okay; I don't expect you to-"
Lithuania hit the red button with barely a hesitation, as they all assumed he would (though Prussia felt a little sick with himself for knowing.)
It was still horrible to see him spasm in his chair, stuttered screaming spilling from his lips.
Wh-why does he always sacrifice himself? Latvia thought, feeling himself start to cry quietly and wishing he'd closed his eyes sooner. Doesn't he know what it's like to see him hurt?
It's the worst thing ever.
When it was over, when he felt the headband lift from his skull again, he took a moment to make sure he could still breathe. His hands were shaking violently, and blood was running from the corner of his mouth, but he still saved a small smile and wink for Raivis.
"Wh-wh-whoever is next, put the handkerchief in your mouth. I bit my t-tongue."
As one of the people in black (presumably Belarus) approached Romania with a headband, he flinched away, looking as if he was going to fight. The thought of someone restraining him again somehow… "NO! Get away from me! Get away!"
Cuba advanced to grab him firmly by the shoulders, and say, in broken tones: "Stop."
And Vladimir did, insane ideas of resistance draining from him in a breath or two.
"Okay, you and Estonia! Your turn to choose, Romania. Thirty seconds!"
They gazed at each other, for several long seconds.
"I- I can take it, Vlad. I can, um, take one for the team..."
"I can't hurt you, Eduard," Romania said in his lilting fashion. "You're just a kid. I… I would never be able to forgive myself."
"I'm not a kid…" Estonia wished he sounded less unsure.
"Fifteen seconds."
"Toris, hand me the handkerchief."
He shoved the cloth between his teeth and pressed the red button.
Raivis cried harder. He liked Romania.
Romania was always nice to him.
Next were Estonia and Prussia.
"Eduard, your dilemma. Would you rather the red button or the blue button?"
The clock was wound up.
The timer began.
Eddy did not want to be injured. He was so afraid of pain. But he did have morals, and although he didn't like Gilbert much, shocking him wasn't hitting. It was more… more wrong, somehow.
Is it? Really? Jumal küll, I've a twisted set of self-preserving ethics!
Should I consider the forfeit? No... No. It's not that bad yet.
"Twenty seconds."
I can't. I can't. I can't hurt myself, madness lies that way. Being possibly hurt by someone else if different - I don't think I can choose to do it to myself! I know what this sort of torture is; I can't, I can't...
"I'm not going to beg you, or anything," Prussia said, glaring at him. "However, you're seeming kind of indecisive. Maybe, as you said, you should take one for the- AGHH!"
Estonia had pressed the blue button whilst the Prussian was preoccupied, hoping that would be the best way.
"HEY!" As soon as the shock ended, Prussia dove over the table in a shaky rage. "GOTT VERDAMNT! You absolute unawesome bastard, Estonia! You didn't even let me put the cloth in my mouth - I could have bitten my tongue off! Fricking dummkopf! Fricking dummy!"
He tried to control the tremors still running through his body, to no avail.
Again, Estonia felt – kind of good.
That proves it. I am completely twisted…
Lithuania wondered if the voltage he received was higher that Vladimir's and Gilbert's: he knew his muscles were still contracted long after theirs, and his head pounded, a drum. He was very nearly used to the agony, but he could feel his face twitching and didn't know how much he could take until he faced serious side effects.
Broken bones. Brain damage. Death. And I can't die yet – they're not safe yet…
But there was no way of proving Russia was messing up the dials – he seemed to be spinning them randomly anyway. And it's not like he could complain, that this situation was unfair, exactly…
And then came the combination he'd been dreading.
"Lithuania and Latvia! Raivis, your choice!"
Raivis's ears stood out almost comically (if anything was comical about this situation) either side of the metal headband, electrodes tucked around them to connect up to the machine. His hair sprung up in the middle like tufty grass.
He was wringing his hands.
"Press the blue button, Raivis."
"I-I-I- no. N-no."
Lithuania felt liquid panic course through his veins, and his military-commander voice came to the fore. "Press the blue button! That is an order!"
"Y-you c-can't t-t-tell me what to d-do!" Latvia was sobbing again, messily, snot dribbling down his face, and his thumb shook over the buttons.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"I won't tell you again: press. The. Blue. Button. NOW!"
Latvia ignored him, reaching for the cloth deposited on the table.
Estonia grabbed it before he could get there.
"For Christ's sake, Lati! Do what Toris says. Don't you remember when you first arrived here? Didn't you promise?"
Latvia did. He'd been locked up in the dark for a few days, before his country was fully occupied and the Soviets had a firm hold – he'd already run away several times, and lost out in horrendous blizzards.
He could remember Lithuania bringing him food and water and stories and songs and to simply hear the understanding voice of another nation after so long stuck with human fighters…
"Wh-what's it like? L-living with Russia?"
Lithuania stops. Truly stops – it is like every muscle stiffens. Like he's never been asked that question before, and can't even begin to formulate an acceptable answer.
"M-Mr Russia… we have to work very hard, but it can be fun. Da, he can be really fun, and ever so eccentric and crazy and you'll call him Ivan and race around the house or have snowball fights… But he can also be… difficult to live with."
Lithuania stops again. Restarts.
"Look, please, will you promise me something, Latvija?"
"O-okay?" His wide, violet eyes glitter with confusion in the torchlight. He has decided that he absolutely detests the chill, and hopes it won't always be this cold in Russia's house.
"Suppose you make a mistake. So you drop a glass or speak in your language or can't keep your mouth shut. Or mention one of his bosses or… well, if he's in a bad mood, you'll know by his eyes. Come find me, and then hide. And if you get caught, please; say it was Lithuania's fault."
"B-but why? Th-that's not fair on you…"
"Because I'm the fixer," he grinned, though it was slightly forced. "I keep this mansion running! I'll sort it all for you, all right? You don't have to get hurt any more. You of all people don't deserve to be punished.
Promise me you'll always let me take your place. Swear it."
There, then, uncertain and scared and sad, he made his fateful choice. "I sw-swear."
"I- I've been t-t-tortured before; after that day and in the p-past." He glanced towards Prussia, who stared down at the table – nobody had fond memories of the Nazi occupation, least of all the perpetrators. "Y-you know th-that."
"Shut up, Lati!"
"Latvija, I am warning you. You wouldn't break an oath, would you?"
It was a cruel move, with a dash of Estonia's cunning – it was almost like Eduard speaking rather than Toris.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Ten. Nine. Eight…
"E-Eddy, give me the cl-cloth." Raivis had his own attempt at being assertive. It didn't work very well.
"No." It seemed that Estonia and Lithuania, for once, were working completely in tandem. "Not happening."
"D-D-DON'T YOU GET IT, T-TORIS? I B-BLAME MYSELF EVERY T-TIME YOU G-GET HURT! ST-STOP TRYING TO PR-PROTECT ME!"
As the timer reached zero and his thumb jabbed for the blue button, Estonia knocked his small hand out of the way and pressed red.
Fitting violently, Lithuania's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted.
"You Baltics sure know how to do the dramatic," Prussia quipped weakly in the silent moment.
Nobody bothered responding.
It's so warm: warmer than it ever gets at home, and the whiskey leaves such a drowsy feeling in his stomach. His eyelids get heavy to the tune of Alfred's blues song. He knows he should try and stay in this good moment for longer, but… he can't… keep… awake…
His senses are overloaded – the crops and the air in his nose and the bitter moonshine on his tongue; the sky so intensely blue; the straw tickling his ears; Alfred's surprisingly deep voice…
Sleeping…
A part of him knew he was only remembering, living in the recollection. And he knew he had to get back, to see the damage.
But still…
It would be nice to stay here always.
Lithuania forced his eyes open to Romania checking his pulse, those fanged teeth far too close to his neck.
"He's alive. He will be fine. Oh, everybody! He's waking up!"
There was a universal sigh of relief as Belarus (Ukraine had dashed into the corridor and they could hear her bawl) disconnected him from the machine, far more gently than you'd expect from her. Latvia, meanwhile, was shrieking at Estonia.
"HOW COULD YOU, EDDY?! HOW COULD YOU D-D-DO THAT! I KNOW YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE TO HELP YOURSELF, B-BUT WE'RE NOT ALL H-HEARTLESS!"
Russia was beginning to get agitated at the commotion – the better mood-readers could feel it by the shift of atmosphere. Latvia, as ever, was oblivious; and Estonia was too caught up with him to care.
"HEARTLESS? I DID WHAT LEEDU WANTED ME TO! WE WERE LOOKING AFTER YOU!"
"W-WELL I'M DONE WITH BEING LOOKED AFTER! I AM A NATION, EDDY: I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!"
"EXACTLY!"
"EXACTLY!"
"Be. Quiet."
"Pask!"
The warring nations turned to face him. They hadn't seen him this angry in a long time, and Latvia felt his rage shrivel up and die within him.
Why? W-why was I so horrible to Eddy and Toris? It's Mr R-R-Russia's fault for all of th-this! Why can't I sh-shout at him?
I'm just a stupid coward.
"You – you won't stop shouting, and Estonia messed up the game. It's Latvia's choice – you messed up the game!" Russia's voice was petulant, but that didn't make it any less sinister - in fact, it made it more so. "You two are bad children. You two are very, very bad."
"Mr R-Russia, leave them alone…" Lithuania tried to prop himself up, but slipped back down again, suddenly realising his head was in Belarus's lap. Normally, this would have embarrassed him enough to make him faint again, but his bones ached so much and she was… was she smoothing his hair?
"You're so naughty… why can't you ever be playing nice? You were not following the rules, Eduard, so… it's the forfeit, da?"
Don't ask me why my flashbacks are in present tense. But I kind of like the style! I'm sorry if they're a bit excessive, but I do like flashbacks!
Prussia's comic relief is probably unnecessary. But fun.
Latvia has gone… kind of berserk. He's writing himself: don't blame me!
Only Russia speaks in bold… AND ME!
AND WHAT IS THIS DAMN LIETBEL INTRUSION! BELARUS, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU WITH YOUR OWN KNIVES! AND SHADOWSINTHELIGHTOFDAY: YOUR INFLUENCE IS COMPLETELY TO BLAME FOR THOSE TWO SENTENCES!
~Pask – Estonian, shit
I am now going to try and factorise quadratics. Wish me luck.
Review if you liked it or to tell me if I'm going wrong, and follow/fav for more. And if you're far in the future or in an alternative universe, you guys review too! :D
It's EUROVISION NEXT WEEK! So something may get written for that, but it depends on how much time I have... (so it's unlikely)
See ya when I see ya!