Hey There, Fang here. Well, here is the next installment of "Icy Darkness". I question my sanity sometimes as I write this :I Eh, saneness is overrated!

Hope you enjoy.


He was thrown back against the wall and crumbled to the floor. His broken leg was crushed beneath him. The taste of blood filled his mouth from Russia's harsh blow.

"You think you can be so arrogant that you believe you can escape?"

He opened his eyes long enough to see the dull metal of a thick pipe and Russia's feral eyes. The pain hit him in the chest, like a sledgehammer driving a stake in a rock. Through the blood red that covered his vision he thought he could hear a disembodied scream. After he heard his ribs crack and break under the blow, he knew with horror it was his own raw, ragged voice.

Pain rained down on his defenseless body like hail. The pipe came down and down again, each hit permeated by a grunt of anguish. In his blundering thought, he knew Russia was done playing games. This was just for satisfying his rage, his hateful anger.

Russia's breath was on his face.

"You believe in your own strength when you have none." There was a crack against his shoulder and it knocked him to the ground. He clenched his teeth and grabbed at his almost-dislocated bone.

"You are not strong at all. You have to rely on others to get you out of here, da? Your message to them was cowardly. I expected better of you."

His captor jerked him onto his back, jarring his broken ribs. Placing the end of his pipe at the pained man's throat, he dragged it down slowly to rest on his stomach.

"So you are the useless man who expects everyone to take care of you. You choose to run from the danger that I present. Well then, da?"

He laid the pipe across the blonde's legs, one grotesquely bent where he ha broken it falling from the ceiling. Russia's eyes gleamed as he glared at his heavily breathing captive. The man, though he could do nothing through this situation, took all of his strength to scowl through his agony. Russia tsked.

"It's no use to resist."

With that he crushed the pipe onto his legs and the man's bones buckled. A hideous crunch and snap echoed around the stone room as his legs were shattered. The tortured man's gasping screams punctuated every sound of metal meeting flesh, of bone fragments tearing though the muscle and skin.

" #!*% Englishman! You have no escape if you cannot use your legs!" came Russia's hated voice as he aimed one more smash at his prisoner's dismantled limbs. The Briton's nails dug into the stone floor, grating and scratching in a struggle to brace himself against the excruciating pain. His voice was gone; he had nothing left to scream. All he could do was hold himself together to keep himself sane.


Alfred was on autopilot in his mind, flying into the outside border of Russia's Siberia. No, he wasn't worrying about any border rules or misunderstanding that could erupt between him and the Russian people. Russia wasn't trying to start the war to end all wars here; he wouldn't chance shooting the personification of America just yet.

Flying over the frozen wastelands of Russia's land in his fighter jet way ahead of the others, the America had finally controlled his anger. It was locked deep within him, ready to be pulled out in full force the moment he saw Russia's smug face. Out here in Siberia, Arthur could not have been fool enough to bother escaping from his captor's hideaway. He would stand a better chance of surviving with that #!*% than out in this bitter cold. At least then he could die somewhere somewhat warm.

Alfred tightened his fingers around the controls of his fighter. Could a country really die?

Could Arthur…really die…

Alfred ground his teeth and narrowed his sight on the white expanse below him. Countries couldn't die, he assured himself. But #!*% if he was going to let Arthur be the guinea pig for that. Russia could test that theory once Alfred had his gun to his head.

But Arthur was strong. If Alfred himself could survive from such torture and come out of it sane and alive, so could his older and decidedly more stubborn brother. Arthur was tough, he reassured himself. There was nothing Russia could do to break him, nothing he could say to destroy that Brit.

He flew on mindless of all else, only knowing vaguely that Italy, France, and Canada and the others were behind him in another plane somewhere. He would find Arthur, beat Russia's #!*% #!*% , and then take his brother back. Arthur wasn't leaving his sight for weeks after this.


"He isn't coming for you, you know." Whispered the silky voice in his ear. "He's left you alone."

The skeleton of a man let out a weak noise of resistance.

"You don't believe me? Then where is he?"

His head fell to his shoulder; his mind struggled against Ivan's soothing tones.

"He's not here, is he? Your precious American hasn't come, has he?" the voice asked. The trembling man made no motion of hearing.

"Answer me. He isn't here, is he?" came the litany. He still didn't move. The iron came hard upon his abdomen. Blood pushed out of his mouth in a horrendous choking cough and he curled up around his vital organs.

"Answer…me. That American #!*% never cared about you, did he? Answer me!" The voice simmered with rage. Fighting a moan, the man choked out a simple no.

"Good…" the silk of the tone had returned, caressing his tormented min with honey-sweet words. "It's time you learned he only thought of you as a burden…He constantly had to take care of you…" Poison dripped like nectar from his tones.

"You thought, you were so arrogant to think that you, such a small country, could help him? You must realize now that you only brought him down. You prevented him from growing into the country he could have been because you were hanging onto his arm like a needy child."

He only stared blankly at nothing, letting the Russian's poison seep into him. He could feel his mind, his heart, all but shutting down. He couldn't listen to this. He wouldn't become part of this monster's plan.

"He may not care…but I do…" the voice was back. Russia's breath glossed over his ear. "I can take you under my wing…I can take care of you, like a little pet…I can make you strong again. America doesn't need you, he has never needed you. I can need you if I wish."

A single drop of salty liquid raveled down his cheek as his mind's walls began crumbling around him as Russia's deadening words penetrated his thoughts. Everything Russia said sounded right…Alfred wasn't gaining anything from him.. he was…weak…who was he to think he could stand up to Russia, to even consider himself strong? He only looked in the past, to his glory days…but in the present…

"I am…nothing…" he murmured.

"That is right. You mean nothing. No one wants you, no one needs you. You could, say…die right now, da? No one would know. No one would bother with you. You understand?"

He did. He really did. The last of his walls cracked down, and his unprotected mind was open to the Russian.

Time, which had not mattered to him once he was taken here, lost any power over him. Ivan was all that was there. His broken body was wrapped in the Russian's arms as he was fed endless hate dripping from that voice.

He was hated. He was unneeded.

He was useless. His mind accepted everything.

NO… whispered a place deep in his head. No…do not believe…

But Russia was so logical-

NO. it interrupted him.

No? he questioned himself.

No. Wrong. You will see how wrong you are soon enough, alright?

For one instant, Russia's truths were lies. One moment of clarity from this cloudy state stood out, and he took it. Everything about himself, every painful moment, every joy, he took and hid inside that little voice of hope. The man inside the country fell into unconsciousness.


Alfred broke down the door to the bunker and it gave way like melted butter in his fury. Gun in hand, he tore through the security layer by layer. He was mindless, nothing save for the sight of a certain Brit could stop his infernal rampaging of this cold rock.

This bunker went down quite a few levels. Deciding to screw the elevator, Alfred took the stairs down, jumping down flight at a time.

"America!" "Al-" " #!*% , America, get your #!*% back up here and wait for us!" Germany's voice yelled over his headset. Alfred had lost all ability for reason. He tore off that #!*% headset connecting him to the outside world. He wouldn't let anything distract him. Not while he was so close to Arthur, closer than he had been in weeks. They couldn't possibly ask him to wait any longer.

It was growing even colder as he made his way underground, the stone structure leeching every grain of heat from Alfred's body. The image of Arthur living here for the past week or so made him sick.

Alfred was finally on the bottom floor. His boots clacked against the concrete as he ran half-frantically through the rooms, checking each one methodically. Most were empty, dark, and filled with a sense of emptiness and foreboding which he couldn't explain.

The next room was already open, and Alfred's heart shot up into his throat when he was the metal pipes and the dirty table linked with chains decorated around the edges with blood. It had been used within the last week…Alfred slammed the door shut to that room. Arthur. He needed to concentrate on Arthur.

The room after that gave him pause. A voice whispered in Russian very softly behind it.

Russia's voice.

Alfred's rage reached a new high, and he crashed through the door and into the pitch-black room.

Light shone in, showing America the Russian kneeling on the floor. His large arms were wrapped around something pale and thin, hugging him to his chest. Russia turned at the door destruction, leaving Alfred's sight free to feed upon the thing in his arms.

It stared at nothing, its eyes blank. Its cheekbones were too prominent, almost sticking out of its face, as were every other bone in its body. Its skin was mottled with purples and blacks, staining the sickly whiteness.

Alfred barely remembered to breathe.

It was Arthur.


AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:

I am an evil person and will fully admit it! :D

Well, anyway, reviews!

Hey, Super Sister! Speechless, eh? Why thank you very much, that's such a lovely compliment! I hope this chapter was as good as the last one for you! Thank you for reading!

tynder20, I guess I've just given you more reason to be worried for Iggy...but don't be worried for too long, Alfred is here! It will get better for our poor over-abused Brit, I promise.

Hey, cookies111! I should stop pounding Iggy into the ground and give him a puppy or something, really, the man's been through waaaaayyyyy too much! Doesn't mean I don't like torturing him just a little bit ;) Thank you for your review!

ayanami-verloren, hi! Well, you just have to wait for this upcoming chapter to see Russia in a bloody pulp, dont worry. He's not getting away with hurting Iggy unscathed :D But I wouldn't kill Iggy, noooo never...Thank you for reading!

FAITH ALTOIRE, HII! haha, that would be a good thing to draw, wouldn't it? You do such great artwork , you would pwn at that! And That line was one of my favorites to write, I figure that is what is going through most countries heads when Alfred goes a little nuts. Heh, i'm slowly but surely getting through econ, even though I fall asleep every day...

And PwnedByPineapple, Hi! Alfred's here to save the day, all will be well!

Poor Iggy...well, the battle is up next, and don't worry, It wont be like the usual one. I have it written out...so expect an update soon! Thank you so much for all your kind reviews, I love them!

-Fang