"You gave me a big fright, you know?"
Ivan set out the tea cups on the table for himself, Berwald and Berwald's copy.
He looked down at the floor, apologetic.
"I honestly did not mean to make you scared like that" He continued on, pouring tea into the cups.
Berwald did not respond, but continued to make eye contact with the other man.
It was understandable if he did not feel like talking; he had fallen painfully down the outside steps and it was all because of Ivan. And besides, Berwald already was not much of a talker, so the silence was not unexpected from him anyway.
"Ah" Ivan murmured quietly, looking at the other man's attire, a short sleeved pink nightgown with buttons near the neck and lace on the hem, not unlike something which an older lady would wear.
"Sorry about the nightgown. Your clothes were wet and I had no other thing to dress you with." He apologized.
"It is siestra's. I do not think she would mind."
Ivan stared at Berwald. The other man had his left arm up in a sling and bandages around his neck and head due to the fall.
This visual, coupled with the pink nightgown, would usually be quite hilarious, as Berwald was quite a severe looking man and, thus, this attire was quite unfitting for him.
However, the seriousness of the situation, naturally, seemed to suck out any humour that it may have had for either of them.
Ivan sighed at Berwald, violet eyes scanning the injured man with a tangible amount of guilt.
"I'm very sorry. Perhaps I should not have chased you."
Berwald still did not respond. Ivan, at this point, assumed it was due to the concussion and continued talking.
He suddenly broke into a grin.
"It is okay! You will stay here for a while and you will get better!" Ivan cheerfully stated.
"I will look after you and we will both be happy! Yay~!" He cheered, pulling Berwald into a tight bear hug.
To an outsider, this looked like two men, perhaps even brothers, one giving the other a cuddle.
Ivan was still smiling and he pulled Berwald tighter towards him.
And to this Berwald would usually respond back somehow. Hugging back, or pushing away or even saying something along the lines of "get off me".
But he did not.
The deathly pallor of his skin and his eyes, clouded over in death and staring blankly over Ivan's broad shoulder, made it abundantly clear that he never would.
Authors note: And there we go. Final chapter. Poor Sweden (again).
Russia is actually really out of it and has been for quite some time, to the point where he treats the dolls (and Sweden's corpse) as if they were alive (or still alive in Sweden's case).
I imagine that the dolls in the house look somewhere between hyper realistic androids and ball jointed dolls.
I've actually found some pictures that are very close to what I was imagining. These pictures were 1980's era 3d reconstructions of
unidentified people (john and jane does) from the United States. Very much in the uncanny valley.