The Eastern Front was a disaster.

Russia was too strong, had too many "allies". The defenses crumbled before him.

Finland stood before Russia, defiant, proud, unafraid.

"Privyet, Finland."

"Hello, Russia."

"We meet again, da?"

"Perkele."

Russia smiled his adorable smile. "I am knowing what that means."

"Good." Finland raised his rifle and got off three shots. They bounced off Russia's pipe.

Damn it! He was out of bullets. He swung the butt of the rifle at Russia instead.

Laughing, Russia caught it, wrenching it from the Finn's hands. At the same time, he used his pipe to knock Finland's feet out from under him.

With a sharp exhalation, Finland fell to his knees. Gripping the front of his shirt, Russia hauled him back to his feet.

"Ruotsi!" Finland screamed. He would have preferred to defeat Russia on his own, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"He can't hear you," Russia whispered. "It will be fun to have you back in my house. The others are so well-behaved, but you…you are not, da?"

Finland twisted, trying to get out of Russia's grasp. His foot connected to Russia's shin, but that only made his smile grow larger.

"I have forgotten what a joy you are, Finland."

Finland opened his mouth to scream again, but Russia smiled and said, "You are wanting them to hear your defeat, da?"

Nope. Finland definitely did not want that. He settled for kicking Russia squarely in the knee. Russia's smile slipped. "You will pay for that, Suomi."

He dropped Finland to the ground, not quite letting him catch his breath before hooking the lead pipe around the Finn's neck.

"March, and maybe you will be keeping some of your pride," Russia hissed. "After all, you are not wanting to have the others watch me carry you."

And Finland obeyed, marching away to the east.