(10)

A/N: There is one rather violent scene in here, the street fight scene isn't much compared to the scene in this chapter. Also, the letter at the end of the chapter, I've turned into a monologue, check it out on YouTube! I'll link the page on my profile.

Russia was restless. Lithuania had gone to bed three hours ago, while the Russian remained tossing and turning, paranoid, and unable to sleep.

The blizzard raged outside. The wind howled. The branches on the evergreen outside beat and scratched against his window.

Russia lay there, with the blankets pulled up to his nose. He felt so small and vulnerable, lying in his bed that suddenly seemed so huge. And the shadows around his room looked threatening.

General Winter's haunting words echoed in his mind, his raspy, ghostly voice speaking to him.

"You are mine, gentle child. Do not forget that. You are mine, fragile child. Only I can show you the way. You are mine, darling child. I will steal you back away. You are mine, little child. It is my turn to play. Listen to me, sweet, sweet child, or soon, you will be history."

Mine. General Winter said, Mine.

His to do whatever he pleased. His to control. His to torment. His and only his. He belonged to him.

Russia didn't want that. He didn't want General Winter to control him- to make him do things he had no power over.

For so long he had tried to be a good boy. He had tried to do whatever General Winter wanted him to, had tried to make him proud. For so long he had been General Winter's toy to play with-his marionette to control.

But now he wanted to be in control of himself. Search for his own destiny. His own happiness. To do that he had to run away. He had to keep running if he wanted to control himself. But General Winter wanted to catch him and hurt him. And if he didn't keep running General Winter was going to catch him. He couldn't let that happen. He had to keep running...but he couldn't run forever... And he knew he was slowing down...he could feel himself growing tired.

I am afraid. So afraid.

He scanned his eyes around his dark room to search desperately for some sort of comfort. His eyes automatically were drawn to the scarf on his door. He got up and pulled it off, and then he walked back over to his bed, went under the covers and sat up and held it close. He pressed it to his face, enveloping himself in the warmth, the softness, and the scents. It smelled like snow. It smelled like him. It smelled like Belarus. It smelled like Vanya. It even had a scarce, faint smell of Ukraine. But there was one scent on the scarf that was almost as strong as his own...it smelled like Lithuania: tea and cocoa and warmth.

As he held the scarf close, there were only two words he could put to describe all those smells combined: home and happiness. It was very calming.

He lay back down and burrowed under the covers, curled up into a ball, and cuddled the scarf. He was much less paranoid than before, so he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, trying his best to think of warmth and happy things, hoping that it would bring him sweet dreams.

-xXx-

He was once again standing in a frozen snowfield. In his hands was a large sunflower. It made him smile. It was bright and sunny and seemed to light up the grim, plain landscape he stood in. In front of him was all his friends and his sisters were there too. They were all so happy to see him-they all seemed to be smiling. The only one who was missing was Lithuania. He wondered why he wasn't there, yet, that did not cause him to hide the joy he felt with seeing everyone. He giggled, and smiled brightly and then started to make his way towards them.

Suddenly, though, he was roughly jerked back. Something seemed to be restraining him. He tried to walk forward again, but this time, everyone's expression turned to a frown, and they all glared at him, expressions angry and menacing.

"Guys?" He asked, "Guys what is the matter? Why do you all look at me like that?" No one responded. Instead, a gust of wind passed and they were all blown into snow dust, until only one remained: Lithuania. He had been behind the rest of them the whole time. His back was turned to Russia.

"Toris?" Russia called. He started to walk over to the other nation, but once again he was pulled back by some unknown force.

"Toris!" He called again, "Can you hear me Toris?"

The other figure slowly turned, and Russia met his gaze; his fearful gaze.

"Toris what's the matter?" He asked.

"It's you."

"Wh-what? What do you mean? Toris?"

Suddenly, the sunflower started to die. It drooped, and Russia watched the petals wither and turn brown. Confused, and startled, it fell from his grasp and into the snow.

Then Russia's arm moved without his command to reach behind him. His gloved hand met something hard, cold and metallic. He pulled out his blood-stained faucet pipe and lifted it over his head. That was when he noticed the glint of strings attached to him. He tried to resist in vain. Then, his other hand grasped the pipe, putting it in attack position.

"You are mine, gentle child. Do not forget that." General Winter's voice echoed through the landscape.

The strings pulled him roughly forward and he began to charge Lithuania.

"No!" He yelped, "No! I do not want to do this! This is not me! I am not controlling myself! Let me go!" Tears blinded his gaze as he continued to charge. Then he swung. Lithuania dodged him. Yet Russia was pulled after him.

"You are mine, fragile child. Only I can show you the way."

Russia swung again; this time his pipe came into contact with Lithuania's side. You could hear his ribs crack and he stumbled sideways, gasping, as one of the ribs had punctured his lung.

"No!" Russia cried. He closed his eyes.

He felt his pipe smash into Lithuania's front. The brunette's breath hitched and he hunched forward onto his knees, hacking up blood onto the white snow.

"You are mine, little child. It is my turn to play."

"NO!" Russia screamed, "I DON'T WANT TO! LET ME GO!"

His pipe collided with Lithuania's back several times, and blood began to well and soak through his clothing.

"You are mine, darling child. I will steal you back away."

This was the last hit. Russia screamed and cried and begged. He tried to resist. He could not. He let out an agonized cry as his pipe smashed Lithuania in the back of the head. Blood and brain pieces splayed from the wound, and Lithuania fell limp to the ground, bleeding out into the snow. Crimson was painted everywhere.

"You can never escape child. Remember who controls you. Remember who you belong to."

The strings were released and Russia dropped to his hands and knees beside Lithuania's body, clothes, pipe, and hands stained with his blood.

Russia began to scream, wail, and cry, tears completely blinding his gaze, cradling Lithuania. "NO! NO! NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE! TORIS! MY TORIS! PLEASE NO! THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!" His voice was gasping, and straining between sobs. Grief shattered his soul. Anger clawed at his heart. Agony reverberated throughout him...screaming. He had just murdered his best friend. He had let General Winter take full control...

"Ivan! Ivan!" A voice was calling. Someone was rapidly shaking him, trying to pull him back to reality.

His eyes shot open. He was sobbing. He was gasping for breath. Sweat droplets dotted his forehead. His voice was raw from screaming. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

Lithuania had climbed onto his bed and had been shaking him violently, panicking.

Russia saw him, and grabbed him, hugging him very tightly. He sobbed quietly into his chest as he recovered from the panic of the nightmare. Lithuania rubbed his back, and rocked him as best he could, holding him protectively in his arms.

Eventually, Russia's breathing began to ease, his heartbeat began to slow back to normal, and his sobbing stopped, until he nestled quietly in Liet's arms.

Lithuania sighed with relief. He had thought that he would never be able to get Russia out of that nightmare. But the man was okay, lying quietly in his arms. His stomach hurt now, but he was glad that Russia was alright.

-xXx-

The next morning dawned grim and cloudy. A layer of frost had frozen over the windows, making it almost impossible to see outside. It was also very cold in the house.

When Lithuania had woken to the frozen air, he curled up against the body of warmth that was beside him and pulled the bedcovers farther over him.

His face was pressed against something that was firm, yet comfortable.

Then he realized his pillow was breathing. He opened his green eyes, alarmed and embarrassed at the position he was in. He had fallen asleep in Russia's bed again. Not only that, he was lying almost completely ON TOP of the sleeping Russian! One arm was draped over him and his cheek was pressed against his chest. His other arm was resting near his shoulder.

Freaking out, and thoroughly embarrassed, Lithuania tried to scramble up. However, it disturbed the slumbering "bear" and strong arms came around him and gripped him firmly, holding him in place.

"No." said Russia's, deep, sleepy voice, "Stay here. You're warm and comfy."

So Lithuania was stuck in an incredibly awkward position, cheeks bright red with embarrassment as he laid there in Russia's arms. Friendly little cuddles with Poland was one thing, but lying on top of his former boss? That was just downright indecent and disrespectful for him to do!

-xXx-

Lithuania waited until the violet-eyed man had gone back to sleep to very carefully and slowly wriggle his way off of him, free himself from his stronghold, and climb out of his bed.

Then he went to take a shower, hoping that Russia had been too sleepy to notice what he did and wouldn't remember.

-xXx-

Lithuania walked down the creaking steps after his shower, and went to turn up the radiator in every room downstairs. He was making breakfast in the kitchen when Russia came down the stairs, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wrapped in a blanket, with Vanya walking beside him.

"Hi Litva." he said.

"Good morning." he replied.

Russia walked over to the kitchen window that Lithuania opened earlier to let some additional light in, and pulled the drapes over.

Lithuania looked on, slightly confused.

"Are there anymore windows open down here?"

"Uhh...da, I opened a few of them."

"Please don't open windows again. Now I have to go close them all."

"Umm….okay...I'm sorry." Lithuania couldn't help but feel his nerves coming back. He knew he had displeased Russia.

Russia flashed him a ghost of a smile and then went to close all the windows. Odd. Lithuania thought, I hope I didn't upset him too much...oh, what if I did? Seeing the weather probably makes him sad. Oh. I feel bad now. I didn't mean to. I was only trying to let some more light in, to make it a little brighter in here for the both of us. But all I did was make him more upset. I am sorry...

Russia came back into the kitchen, without saying a word, fed Vanya, and then sat down at the table, resting his cheek in his hand and sadly looked at the slowly wilting Christmas roses on the table.

"The flowers are dying," Russia commented, "It's sad. They were pretty."

Lithuania nodded, "I am sorry about the windows, I was just trying to let some more light in."

"It's okay Lietuva, now we can both be safer, da?"

"Umm, da?"

"Did you finish breakfast?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes. It's coming right up." He took the two plates of food and set them at the table, and then went back to the counter and returned with the tea.

"Is there anything else you are needing?"

"Da. I left my blanket in the living room. I'm a little cold." Another blunt order; he was not very happy this morning.

"Okay. I will be right back." he walked into the living room to get the blanket that was lying in a heap on the couch. Lithuania walked over and picked it up, it felt heavier than it should have. When he took it off the couch, Russia's metal pipe hit the ground and he had to jump back to avoid it landing on his feet. He looked at it, there were still faint blood stains on it, and he found himself just staring. Terrible image flashes of the past filled his head. He refused to touch that foul thing. He left it on the floor and then turned and walked back to the kitchen with the blanket.

When he got there, Russia was completely zoned out, poking at his food, staring off into space.

"I-Ivan I brought your-"

Russia jumped, dropped his fork, reached for his missing pipe, and rounded quickly, eyes blazing. Then he realized it was only Lithuania, and his gaze softened.

"I-I'm sorry." Lithuania stuttered, "I didn't mean to scare you." That was the second time that morning he had done something to upset him. His stomach was starting to hurt.

"I-it's okay, da? I am okay." he shook his head and muttered something to himself that could have possibly been a phrase with a curse word in Russian. Lithuania did catch though, I almost….you.

"Can you put the blanket around me?" Lithuania nodded and wrapped the large plaid fleece blanket around his shoulders. Then he sat down at the table and started pick at his food, thinking about how Russia was very off, more than he had been. He did have terrible nightmare last night. But something tells me that isn't the only reason. Maybe if he talks about it, it will help? I did tell him he could tell me anything. Maybe I should ask him? No. That might make him angry. I am sure he will tell me if he wants to.

"Litva?"

"Da?"

"I have to do some work in my study today. I am behind." Russia said.

"Okay. What would you like me to do?"

"Just stay in the house. Don't leave. At all." his voice was firm and quiet, slightly scaring the Lithuanian, as it reminded him of his tone back during the USSR.

Lithuania nodded. "I can play with Vanya while you're working?"

"Da." with that, Russia got up from the table and departed to his study upstairs.

Upon his departure, Lithuania felt slightly less nervous. Russia was in a moody, threatening mood today, and he seemed distant and cold, much different than he had been lately. It made Lithuania very uncomfortable, and he had a feeling of dread inside.

He picked up the dishes and cleaned the table, putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Then he got down on his knees so he was at Vanya's level. The cat was sitting next to the table. He gently stroked the friendly creature on his head and said, "Do you want to play, Vanya?"

The cat mewed and seemed to smile at him. Then he got up and started to walk away. When he realized that Lithuania wasn't following him, he turned and looked over his shoulder, his eyes studying Lithuania as if asking, "Why are you just staying there?"

"I am coming Vanya." Liet said, getting out of his kneeling position and following the cat into the living room.

When they got there, Vanya walked over to the little chest beside the sofa and sat down in front of it. Lithuania turned on some music and then opened the chest, all of Vanya's cat toys were in there. He took out the ones he knew were his favorite: a little toy mouse, a ball of yarn, and a feather duster wand and sat on the floor.

He took the feather duster and started to wave it in front of Vanya's face. The cat enjoyed trying to catch it. He tried to pounce it at first, but of course that didn't work. Then he sat up on his hind legs and started to swat it and grab at it.

Lithuania laughed as he watched the large cat play. He thought that he was so funny and cute. The way his little paws swatted at the toy, and how his face was so focused, and he was so intent on catching his "prey". But Lithuania wasn't going to let him, just yet. He made it a little game. He started to move the toy up, down, behind, and to the side, making it harder for Vanya to try to catch it. Eventually, he got bored and sat down in front of Lithuania.

The brunette put down the feather toy and picked up the mouse that was beside him, and moved it around in front of him. Vanya pounced on it, and then pawed at it and played with it for a little and got bored. He did not seem very interested in the mouse today; he was more intrigued by the ball of yarn beside Lithuania. Seeing his interest, Lithuania picked up the red sphere and gave it a little toss. It rolled a couple of feet, and Vanya, seeing his next opportunity for "prey", got down into a crouching position, crawled a little bit, and then pounced on the yarn. Lithuania chuckled.

"You are so cute, Vanya." he said. But the cat was not paying attention. He was too busy playing with the yarn and making a mess of it,

"Oh Vanya," Lithuania said, a laugh in his voice, "What did you doing? You're going to get all tangled up."

Too late, he had already succeeded and getting himself tangled. Realizing that he had gotten in a bind, he proceeded to roll on his back to try to get out of it, but only succeeded in tangling himself even more.

Eventually, he rolled back onto his belly and mewed for help, staring up at Lithuania.

When Lithuania saw him, he chuckled, "You're so silly," he said, "You got all tangled, poor thing." He shook his head, smiling and amused. He got up and walked over to the cat, and worked carefully to untangle him. It must have taken twenty minutes to get him out.

After the yarn was in a pile on the floor, Vanya licked Lithuania's hand to thank him, and then walked into the kitchen to probably get a drink of water.

When the cat was gone, he thought about going to go check on Russia, although he hadn't been called, and he didn't want to disturb him and annoy him. So instead, he went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and then sat on the couch. He wrapped himself in the blanket that was hanging over the back and then reached over to grab one of his favorite books. It was on the lamp table, however, he underestimated the distance when he went to reach for it and it slipped from his grasp and hit the ground. He picked it up, and discovered that something had fallen out of it. He picked it up. It was a yellowed, old piece of paper. It was a letter dated March 11th, 1990. He knew it must be for him. He unfolded it and began to read:

"Once upon a time there was a boy. His first cry was in a deep forest no one knows. He treaded alone through the harsh snow and lonely trees with the wind asking "Where are you going?" with reverberant sarcasm. At the time the boy didn't know. He had not yet chosen his path in those days-when he was so innocent and so naive-like the child he was supposed to be. But he always hoped he would walk a path with many friends.

Yet it did not take him long to realize that his path was meant to be walked alone. No matter how many friends he tried to make, it seemed that everyone turned on him in the end. Still he hoped that no matter what happened; someday he would find a friend forever.

Finally, his wish was granted. In his dark solitude, he found a sunflower. It was only a small little glimpse of the sunflower at first, and it did not grow very big at all. The boy had to leave it be and let it grow, and then he could find it again and pick it.

Years went on, and still the sunflower did not grow. Then the boy became a man. He was big and strong but he was raised in hatred, isolation, and cold. And that was the only thing he knew.

Then out of the dark finally came his sunflower. Grown up and ready to pick. So he did. He took his sunflower and loved it and cherished it. It was his warmth and it was his happiness. It was his comfort. It was his salvation. It strayed him from the lonely path that had been laid out before him. The man loved his precious sunflower.

But then the sunflower died. It died three times. But it always came back.

But now it has died again. It has gone and left him carelessly, left him alone in a solemn dark solitude once again. Yet the man hopes that one day, his sunflower will come back. Just like it always has.

In his grief-clawed, snow-like, silver heart, he knows the sunflower will come back. But until then, he must remain in his grieving, mad solitude...without it.

As he watches the sunflower wilt away, he remembers all of those happy times he spent with it. But above all, he remembers his sunflower's name is Lithuania. And tears cloud his eyes and fall silently down his cheeks as Lithuania goes away."

That was the end. There was nothing after that, and there was not even a "to" or "from" on it. But Lithuania knew exactly who it was from. It was from Russia. He must have put it in the book before he had left him in 1990, hoping that he would see it and be guilt-tripped into staying. But this was the first time he saw it. He felt tears well in his eyes. He had to leave back then, and now he felt guilty about not returning sooner. He had had no idea that Russia had cared about him so much all those years. He had had no idea that he was the only true happiness, beside for sunflowers, that Russia had. A few stray tears fell off his face and landed on the letter, smearing the ink. He folded it up and put it back in the back of his book. Then he covered his eyes and hung his head, letting the tears fall down his face. He had never felt so guilty in his life. Oh Ivan, I am so sorry...

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from upstairs. Alarmed, Lithuania jumped up from the couch and ran upstairs.

A/N: Hello my faithful readers. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know there was a little cliff-hanger at the end, so I will try to update as soon as possible. And also, since I am back at school, I am going back to updating once a week. Although, on weekends, I will try to get two chapters posted if I can. So, stay tuned. Also, virtual cookies to anyone who can catch some symbolism in this chapter. And, there were some lines in Russia's little story based from his character song, "White Flame". Although it is a rather lengthy song, it is the most amazing "Hetalia"character song I have ever heard. I linked it for you on my profile page. I highly recommend listening to it because I based several parts of my story on the song and the feelings Russia depicts in it.