Anastasia 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Do not use me as a history reference.

Quick reminder: Italics in ""= Russian/foreign language. Regular font in "" = English

Hey guys! For the first time in forever, I've updated this thing on time! I'm really sorry for my inconsistency, school can do that. I can't wait for summer vacation, and I hope you guys like this chapter!

One evening evening, Matthew realized that Ivan was hiding something. Actually, he realized this a week ago. For some reason, Ivan had skipped forward nearly three years of his past.

"It is depressing, and it's not worth retelling." Ivan had cheerily told him.

Matthew wasn't one to pry, but it bothered him. He wanted to know, he was nosy like that. He let out a lengthy sigh and focused his thoughts to the present. The dim lights, the rock music, and the smell of alcohol.

He was currently at the biannual party for the nations in some remote mountain in America. It was Alfred's secret get away and it was out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a single soul in the area. A huge modern house jutted out of the mountains, and its noise could be heard heard from miles away. Matthew took a sip of his wine and pulled Kumajiro closer to him on the black couch.

"Come one Kat! You can do it!" Gilbert shouted words of encouragement to the Ukrainian. Matthew looked over his shoulder to see the other nations crowd around Ivan and Katyusha. They were having a drinking contest.

Dozens of empty 88% alcohol content vodka bottles surrounded them. By any means, a normal person would've been sent straight to the grave- and the average nation would be in a drunken stupor. But no, this was Ukraine and Russia we were talking about. Matthew carefully set his sleeping polar bear aside and walked over to see who was winning.

Katyusha was flushed red as she and Ivan downed another shot of the poisonous liquid. They slammed their shot glasses on the table and locked defiant gazes. Matthew had never seen Ivan even mildly buzzed, but he was pretty sure that the nation was drunk. His face was tinted a seemingly permanent pink, and his smile was a bit awkward.

"Ah, sister. You cannot win against me." Ivan drawled while Gilbert poured them another shot. Katyusha dryly laughed and took up her shot glass.

"We shall see Vanya." She cooly challenged. Her teal eyes reflected her resolve and clinked glasses with Ivan.

"I, Yekaterina Braginskaya, have never lost a drinking match." She declared before downing her shot. Ivan fixed his lips into an amused grin, "What a coincidence. Neither have I." Ivan downed his shot and balanced his glass on the back of his hand. Matthew raised an eyebrow, this was going to last a while.

A couple hundred shots later, the two were beginning to waiver. They spared no more words for each other, they wouldn't have been able to hear each other over the cheering of the other nations anyway.

"Show her the strength of Soviet Russia!" Alfred enthusiastically shouted. Ivan shot the American an amused glance laced with annoyance. He wasn't communist, and the USSR was disbanded. Of course he knew that America was just teasing, but it still annoyed him. It was a 20 some year-old joke.

"You have all of that body fat sister, put it to good use!" Natalya shouted her words of encouragement. Ukraine's blush deepened and she shot her sister a half hearted glare. Really? That was the best encouragement she could give?

The two siblings grimaced before they took the next shot. Ivan was pretty sure his tongue was going numb, and his mind was getting cloudy. This was new, he thought. Was this what it was like being drunk?

Matthew nervously watched as the empty bottles of poison grew in number. He was pretty sure he could disinfect a gunshot wound with liquor like this. They might as well just buy some rubbing alcohol from a pharmacy. Matthew flipped open his phone and got ready to call for a helicopter to rush them to a hospital.

Another hundred shots later, Katyusha looked like she was going to faint. The two had gone to the bathroom at least a few times each, and neither of them allowed themselves to give in. Matthew glanced at Ivan, he didn't look so hot either. His scarf was loosened and he had taken off his dress jacket to cool off.

"Surrender." Ivan dramatically shouted before he downed another shot.

"You can take those words and shove it up your жопа!" Katyusha snarled before she took another shot. A few nations whooped and Matthew laughed despite how terrible this was. Who knew Katyusha was an angry drunk?

But fifty shots later, the two were nearly at their limit. Matthew was fairly impressed, they had drunk enough alcohol to disinfect the world of every single microbe of bacteria in existence. It was a relief to know that they too had limits.

"V-Vanya, give up." Katyusha mumbled while she stared at her full shot glass. Ivan grimaced, never before had he been so sick of the taste of alcohol. Or rather the lack of taste.

"Nyet. You must concede defeat. I will never give in." Ivan stubbornly took another shot, and Katyusha miserably followed his example. Twenty shots later, Alfred decided to end the long battle with his solemn announcement.

"I'm out of vodka. Sorry guys, it's a tie." Alfred told the two. Ivan laughed when Katyusha promptly passed out afterwards and leaned back in his chair. The outcome wasn't so bad.

Technically, neither of them had lost, so he was fine with it. But he could be declared the winner since he was still conscious.

Toris made his way through the crowd and with much effort, managed to carry Katyusha on his back and took her to one of the numerous rooms in the house. All of the nations pat Ivan on the back with a mixture of admiration and awe, never had they thought anything could ever consume that amount of liquor in such a short span of time and still live to tell the tale.

Ivan grunted as he stood up from his chair, and was surprised when he had trouble balancing on his own two feet. Matthew quickly came to his rescue and offered his shoulder. Ivan gratefully accepted it and allowed himself to be led to Matthew's couch. He plopped down with a great sigh and pushed his flask of vodka away from him. He didn't really feel like drinking anymore.

"So, Matvey. Are you having a good time?" Ivan asked, his accent was actually lighter than usual. In fact, it was barely noticeable.

The Canadian raised a delicate eyebrow and thoughtfully leaned back against the sofa. Did Ivan force himself to speak with an accent? Matthew frowned and absently placed Kumajiro back on his lap.

The bear heaved a happy sigh and curled up tighter in his lap. A soft smile spread across the Canadian's face as she stroked Kumajiro's fur. Ivan curiously observed Matthew and drummed his fingers against the couch's cushions.

"You wish to say something?" Ivan observed. Matthew pause

Matthew fiddled with Kumajiro's ears and glanced up at Ivan.

"It's nothing." Matthew mumbled his response.

Why won't you tell me what happened?

Was what he really wanted to say. But to ask that would be to take advantage of Ivan when he was drunk. And that was wrong.

Ivan burst out laughing and leaned forward to take a drink from his flask. He could read Matthew like an open book. Before, he had been adverse to telling Matthew certain bits of his past. But now it seemed like a trivial thing.

"I know you Matvey. You must understand that I sometimes feel very sad when I talk about certain events." Ivan began with a puppy dog pout. Matthew hurriedly told Ivan that it was okay, "It's your life. I don't have any right to-"

Ivan shut Matthew up with his purple aura and grinned, "No, no, I do not mind. It is all history, it makes no difference."

-Tsarskoye Selo-

There in the distance, he saw Ivan cantering down the road with his horse. His figure doubled in size every second, and Adrian's heart leapt in his throat. He had to do something. He couldn't let him reach the palace, and if he did let him slip past, they would all be killed. Adrian shakily aimed down the iron sights of his rifle and grit his teeth. He willed his gun to stop shaking as Ivan got closer, who was seemingly oblivious to his presence.

He had to kill him. He had to. He had to do it, for the betterment of Russia! For his starving family!

Ivan got closer, he was so close Adrian swore he could smell the horse from where he was. When he was sure he wouldn't miss, Adrian pulled the trigger and fired two shots into Ivan's chest. The shots swiftly unhorsed Ivan from his saddle. The man landed on the ground with a dull thud and rolled a few feet.

Adrian fought the incoming nausea and willed himself closer. Ivan drew shallow breaths as his blood pooled around him. Adrian couldn't aim properly and had to get closer to finish him off. He could grant him that little mercy.

Ivan gasped when the first bullet hit him. He managed to catch a glimpse of the shooter before the second shot tore into his chest. He fell off his horse and hit the ground. Sharp pain bit into his chest and he partially blanked out because of the pain.

It'd been a while since he was last shot, and he couldn't say that he missed the feeling. His ears rang, but he could faintly hear the shooter's footsteps. Ivan reached for his knife attached to his hip, but made it look like he was clutching his chest in pain.

"Y-You, you've come to kill the Tsar?" Ivan said through grit teeth. With any luck, this rebel had never shot a person before. If that was the case, then he should be a bit reluctant to kill him.

"I-I'm sorry. W-We're just trying to improve the government. You have to understand." Adrian stuttered as he aimed down his sights.

Ivan's fingers found their way to the handle of his dagger and he closed his eyes. He did understand, but that didn't mean he had to agree.

Ivan jerked his dagger out of its sheath and grabbed it by the blade. He threw it with practiced ease and sighed with relief when Adrian dropped to the ground. Ivan's dagger was imbedded right in the center of his eyes.

Ivan grunted as he got up to his a sitting position and spat out some blood. Thankfully, the bullets had gone straight through, and his healing process had already begun. Ivan searched Adrian's body and took his pistol and his other knives. A rifle was too big, and it wouldn't do him much good once he was inside.

"Adrian! What the hell was that?" Someone shouted in the distance. Ivan froze and took a deep breath, "It was a fucking deer." Ivan tried to emulate Adrian's voice as well as he could.

There was a pause, "Damn it man, relax a little more. Be more careful." The man shouted back.

Ivan sighed in relief and holstered his pistol. He needed to act fast. They were going to figure out something was wrong sooner or later.

Ivan quickly, but quietly entered through the back. The pain in his chest was reduced to a dull throb as the tissue regenerated and his adrenaline kicked in. He progressively killed every rebel he came across, and shoved them into nearby rooms. The maids could deal with them later.

It wasn't too difficult, a single stab through their heart or their eye was good enough. He wanted to avoid using his gun unless it was absolutely necessary. A gunshot would undoubtedly give away his presence, and he needed the element of surprise if he was going to save the Tsar and his family.

Ivan yanked his dagger out of a man's eye and wiped the blood on the corpse's clothes. He checked his watch.

Ten minutes had elapsed since he killed the first man. Ivan tensely made his way towards his room. He gave himself a half an hour at most until Adrian's body was found.

"Their room is right here!" Maria's voice echoed down the halls. Her voice was distant, but it was easily heard in the near silence of the halls. Ivan immediately headed towards the voice.

Maria hesitantly opened their parent's room. Anastasia clung onto Maria, feigning weakness, and propped herself up against the side of the bed. "Where did you leave it Anastasia?" Maria asked in a strained voice.

"I-I-I… c-can't remember." Anastasia trembled and went into another coughing fit.

Maria bit her lip and began to systematically look through the room.

"What does this container look like?" The rebel impatiently snapped.

"I-It's in a brown glass bottle" Maria stuttered.

The rebels busied themselves searching for this nonexistent bottle, and Maria whispered to her sister: "Do not move. No matter what, do not move." Maria disappeared from Anastasia's side before she could question her instructions. Her tiny hands trembled as she opened the drawer to Nikolai's nightstand.

There it was, the black revolver seemed to blend into the dark wooden drawer.

Everything seemed to go quiet. Was she prepared to kill them to survive? Would she even be able to survive if she managed to muster the courage to even hold the weapon in her arm? One of the rebels noticed her staring inside the nightstand and made his way over.

"Hey, did you find it?" He asked before he reached her. Maria did her best to act natural and calmly reached in to take out a picture and closed the drawer. "

No. I just saw an old picture." Maria carefully propped the picture of her mother on the nightstand before she began to look somewhere else.

The man huffed in annoyance, but continued to look for the bottle in the other direction. Maria's heart sank, they couldn't keep looking for the bottle forever. She'd failed. She couldn't even bring herself to touch the revolver. And they were going to die, and it was all her fault.

"Fuck, is there even a medication bottle here? Are you sure it was here?" One of the five men marched up to Anastasia, who continued to wheeze. She muttered something unintelligible, and the leader decided to call off the search.

"We'll just have to manage." He forced Maria to put Anastasia on her back and got ready to move out. Maria felt a lump form in her throat, and her grip on Anastasia tightened. God help them.

"Ah, hello."

Maria's gaze snapped up at the sound of an all too familiar voice and a wave of relief washed over her. It was Ivan. God bless his soul. She stared at him, waiting for him to do something. Would he knock them out? Or would he use his secret magic to teleport them away? Her fear was replaced with excitement, but she was careful not to show it on her face.

The rebels tensed, "Who are you?" Kruschev growled. Judging from how fearlessly and casually this man had approached them, he was probably one of the spies they had sent in.

He looked eerily familiar though. His pale skin, purple eyes… and his strange hair. It was almost brown, but it had a smidgen of red in it, crimson almost.

"Ah, I'm here to tell you that a man called Adrian said to get you. He wanted to confirm someone he killed." Ivan reported as if he were trying to remember what the dead man had told him.

Kruschev blinked, what? Ivan blankly waited for Kruschev to process this information.

"That bastard, so it wasn't a deer! Does he need all of us?" Kruschev growled and adjusted his rifle.

Ivan shrugged, "I do not know. He called for you." Ivan noticed that one of the rebels was staring at him. He undoubtedly recognized him, it was only a matter of minutes. Kruschev thoughtfully frowned, he supposed it was too dangerous to go alone. But he needed people to bring the girls back up to the room.

"Hey, doesn't he kind of look like that Ivan-" Was all the rebel got out before Ivan sunk his blade into his neck. "Anastasia, Maria, close your eyes!" Ivan shouted before he yanked out his blade and cut the throats of three other soldiers in a single, swift motion.

The rebels fumbled with their rifles to take aim at him, but Ivan's knives were quicker. Maria stared wide eyed at the scene, she couldn't tear her eyes away. Fear bolted her in place and she began to tremble.

Was this really the same Ivan? The same Ivan, who would sleep by them in the grass during the summer. The same Ivan who played tag with them. The same Ivan who would scold them every time they got too rough. It was the same Ivan, with the same smile, who was killing people. Blood splattered everywhere, and the sharp smell of iron would never leave her. Ever.

Kruschev whipped out his pistol and took aim at Maria. Ivan got to him first and smashed the gun out of his hands. He dared to point such a thing at them? Brought out his bloody pipe and smashed it into his shoulder. There was a sickening crack, and Kruschev crumbled to his knees in pain.

Ivan leaned over, "Where is the rest of the family?" He calmly asked.

"Go to hell." Kruschev spat back. Ivan frowned and dug the faucet part of his pipe against his fractured shoulder. Kruschev squirmed with pain, but refused to speak.

Ivan pursed his lips, perhaps he needed to break his knees next.

"I-Ivan." Maria's voice drew his attention away from his interrogation and froze. Maria's eyes were wide with horror, her lips trembled and she had her hands clutched to her chest. Anastasia rested next to the bed, her eyes remained obediently closed. Ivan pieced together what happened and felt inexpressible dread press against his chest. She had seen.

She knew that he was a killer. Not just a killer, a murderer. But she would understand right? He was doing this to protect them. But why, why was she making such a face?

Ivan tilted his head like an innocent child, and then realized he was smiling. Perhaps his smile was a bit out of place, but he had always smiled. It was normal.

"Maria…" Ivan called out her name, but the damage was done. The girl flinched away from him and quietly sat next to Anastasia. She stared at the ground in front of her. Too scared to look up, and too frightened to close her eyes.

Ivan clenched his fist, and turned his attention back to Kruschev. "Where-"

"You fucker!" Ivan's head whipped up to see another rebel aim his rifle at Ivan. The nation had a split second to react.

The guy, for all of his timing, was undoubtedly a shoddy shot. To him it might've seemed like he was aiming it at Ivan, but Ivan could read the trajectory for the shot and knew that the bullet would've hit Maria instead.

Under normal circumstances, he supposed he could've tried to completely deflect it with his with his pipe. But he was injured, and the most he could hope for was for the bullet to glance off of his pipe and hit him. Because the bullet's speed would've slowed, he hoped it wouldn't go through him and hit the children.

Ivan might as well have been a psychic, because that's exactly what happened. Pain ripped through Ivan's shoulder, perhaps this was karma, he dully thought. But the bullet didn't completely pass through, it was firmly lodged in his shoulder. Ivan reached for his pistol at his belt, but was shocked when he heard a scream.

"No, Ivan!"

And a shot fired off.

Ivan froze in place as a bullet whizzed past him. The bullet hit its mark, and the rebel crumbled to the ground while clutching his chest. Ivan quickly killed Kruschev and dragged the other wounded rebel into the room. After some 'gentle' persuasion, Ivan learned where they were keeping the Tsar, and how many of them there were.

Ivan killed him off, and turned to Maria. The girl loosely held a pistol in her hand, her eyes were wide with tears. She was terrified, and in shock.

"I killed him." Maria quivered. Ivan quickly took the pistol out of her hands and hesitated. He had blood all over him, and it would undoubtedly get on Maria if he hugged her. But he couldn't leave her like this.

Ivan took Maria into a hug and pressed her head into a clean spot on his coat.

"You did not kill him. I did." He softly, but firmly told her. It was technically the truth, Ivan had given the final blow.

Maria grasped Ivan's bloody coat, not caring- not even noticing the crimson liquid and cried into his jacket.

"I killed him. I shot him." Maria whispered.

Ivan held his breath, "Nyet, I shot him. You are just imagining things, see- it's in my hand." He showed Maria the pistol. Maria shuddered, she obviously didn't want to see it. Ivan stroked her soft hair and his heart throbbed at the thought of the nightmares the child would endure after this day.

"It's a dream little Maria. Go to sleep." Ivan cooed. Maria, frightened and exhausted, obeyed his command.

"…Vanya? Can I open my eyes now?" Anastasia's voice reminded him of her presence. Ivan carried Maria in one arm and had Anastasia hold his hand as he carefully navigated her through the mangled bodies of their attackers.

"Nyet, you must keep them closed. Listen to me Anastasia, I am going to put you and Maria into my room and into the closet-"

"The one you said I shouldn't enter?" Anastasia curiously interrupted. Ivan sharply inhaled, "Da," he breathily answered. "I am putting you two in a secret door. It will be dark, but you mustn't leave until I come to take you out." Ivan opened his door and told Anastasia to open her eyes.

The little girl did so and obediently crawled into the small hole in the wall. Ivan carefully nestled Maria against the wall.

Anastasia worriedly scanned Ivan's blood covered body, "Are you okay? Is your head hurting?" She pointed to his blood soaked hair.

Ivan shook his head and reached out to cup her cheek, but stopped himself. He didn't want to get her face covered in blood. Anastasia grinned and gave him a high five instead.

"We will be okay." She assured him.

Ivan laughed and shut the seamless door, he was sure they would be. He swiftly locked the door behind him and left, unaware of Anastasia's sobs once he was out of an earshot. She buried her face in her arms, there was so much blood on Maria. She knew the blood wasn't hers, and she knew the blood wasn't Ivan's.

While she didn't see what happened in the room, she had heard everything that went on.

Grow up! Anastasia willed her tears away, but she couldn't stop her hands from trembling.

Ivan loved everyone, he loved a lot of people. He only hurt people when they did bad things, and he hated killing people. Her kind Ivan. The reason why he killed the rebels was because he loved her and Maria more than the rebels. Ivan was kind, and he loved them. So he had to kill them. Anastasia shivered and drew his knees into her chest. He had to

Whoop, there's another chapter done! I really hope you guys liked this chapter, because this story is becoming pretty interesting for me to write. Thank you guys for favoriting/reviewing this story- it really means a lot. You guys are the best! Criticisms, reviews, compliments, and everything in between are always welcome! Read on!

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~Preuss