Chapter Twenty-Eight: Demons

Alone in his room, Estonia fell into a painful slumber, knowing that he had only just escaped death at Panem's hand.

Latvia had saved him, and where was Latvia now? He did not know, and he was afraid that he might never know, that Latvia had been taken away from him forever.

But he awoke to a soft touch on his arm, and there was Latvia, smiling down at him. Estonia thought, in his half-asleep madness, that the little boy looked more angelic than ever before.

"Raivis," he murmured. "You came back to me."

"Of course I came back," Latvia said. "I'll always come back to you, Eddy."

There was deep sadness in Latvia's voice, and Estonia did not like it. He sat up, looked into the small boy's eyes, saw pain and a deep sorrow there.

"What did she do to you, Lati?" he asked, and the boy looked away, sighing.

"It's not so very bad," he said. "But it doesn't do any good."

"What isn't very bad?" Estonia snapped, feeling dread beginning to build inside of him. "What did she do to you?"

"She's not going to do that," Latvia said, his voice bitter. "She said she wouldn't let me save you and Eirikur even if I promised to love her. She wants me to love her on my own, alone. She's going to kill all of you because she wants me all to herself and it's not fair! And… I can't do anything to help you…"

Estonia could only stare at Latvia, who looked back at him, his eyes speaking of a great sorrow.

"Nothing I do is helpful, Eddy," he murmured. "My life is worthless, and my death would be even more futile. I b-belong to Panem, and it doesn't even h-help…"

Estonia realized then that Latvia had become Lithuania, and he wanted to cry, wanted to scream out at whatever deity controlled his cruel world. He would tell that deity that this existence was unfair, that making a child become a slave to someone as cruel as Panem was truly evil. But he could not do that, for Latvia was already in tears.

He took the sobbing boy in his arms, gently, for he still did not know what Panem had done, and he did not want to hurt Latvia.

"I'm sorry, Raivis," he said. "I didn't want this to happen. And I didn't save you from it. I'm sorry."

"It would be okay if it did some good," Latvia sobbed. "B-but all it does is distract her! She's still going to torture Eirikur! She's still going to kill you! All this is worth nothing!"

"Then leave her, Raivis," Estonia said. "Tell her you want nothing to do with her."

"She will kill you and everyone else if I do that," Latvia said, sounding oddly calm. "I cannot leave her, Eddy. But even staying, I can't save you. I can only prolong your suffering, and give you the slightest hope of survival. It's a cruel hope, because I'm not sure that anyone can escape."

"Raivis…" Estonia fell silent. He had never before felt so powerless to save his younger brother, never before felt quite so despairing of their position. And he had never seen Latvia act quite so angelic, quite so brave, as he acted now. It was as if the boy truly was an angel, sent from heaven only to find the world a cruel and imperfect place, full of broken people, reaching out to him and to another angel who had accompanied him, hoping for solace.

Latvia reminded him so much of Lithuania.

"Why do you have to be like Toris?" Estonia whispered, and Latvia blinked up at him, teary-eyed.

"I am not Toris," he said. "I am even more powerless. But I am also stronger, Eddy. I know I can't save Panem. I can't save anyone. There are people who can't be saved, and there are times when it would be impossible to save even those who should normally be the kind of people who can be saved. I know all that, Eddy. I'm stronger than Toris was, so I'll be okay. I won't let Panem break me, so even if you die, you don't have to worry about me."

"Would you miss me if I died, Raivis?" Estonia whispered, and Latvia wrapped slim, fragile arms around him.

"Yes, Eddy," he said, tears in his voice. "I will miss you very much when you die. But I know… I c-can't save you, can I? Not from Panem?"

"No," Estonia said. "You can't. I… I'm glad you know that, Raivis. It will be better for you that way."

"Maybe," Latvia said. "But the knowing doesn't help. It only hurts more. I don't want to lose you and Eirikur. Even Miss Belarus… I'd rather you guys all stay alive. Because when you're gone, Panem is going to take me for her own. Eddy, I am getting what Toris had, aren't I? Is it called Stockholm Syndrome? Where even though I know I should hate her for what she's doing, I want to stay with her, to help her? This is Stockholm Syndrome, right?"

"Y-yes, Lati. It is."

Estonia began to cry, and Latvia stayed there with him. The two Baltic nations held each other for a long time, both sobbing, both wishing that their lives had been different, that there had been less cruelty, and more joy.

"I would like to be reborn as a human," Latvia said at last. "If I was reborn as a human, and you were reborn as a human, then things would be much better. Maybe humans don't hurt as much. Or, at least, lucky humans don't. Wouldn't you like to have a happy life next time, Eddy?"

"Only angels get reborn," said the monster inside Estonia's head. "Demons go to hell, and that is where they stay. Your friends won't be there. You'll be alone except for your nightmares."

"Oh, R-Raivis… I'm sorry…"

Latvia did not ask why he was apologizing. But when he began to sob again, clutching at the smaller boy as if to a lifeline, Latvia understood the pain that Estonia felt, and he also clung to his older brother.

Estonia wished that he were an angel. If he were an angel, then he would be able to suffer, but it would not be pointless, and there would be a reincarnation to look forward to. Or, at least, so his demons told him. He was not sure if he believed them, but their conclusion seemed logical enough. Lithuania and Latvia were people who had been destroyed by pain and sorrow, but they had also touched the lives of others, and they had made those lives better with their soft touch. The lives he had touched, Estonia had twisted. And so he was not like his brothers. He was darker, bringing agony to his world and to everyone he loved.

There was only more agony in the afterlife, but it could not possibly be worse than the agony he felt in life. For there would be no Raivis Galante in hell to comfort him. There would only be darkness and pain, and the voices in his head.

There would be no Latvia anymore. It would be horrible, and yet, Estonia's hell on earth, at that moment, was looking down at the tiny angel in his arms, and knowing that no matter how hard he tried, a demon could not sacrifice himself for an angel. Angels were too good for this tattered, human world. Tormented demons merely added to the angels' pain.

Demons had to fall, and after their fall, there was a painful afterlife. But angels, too good for the world, fell too. And when they fell, they hurt even the hearts of demons.

Angels were too good to suffer. But suffer they did. For angels were born to protect and save human beings, and in doing so, they sacrificed first their bodies, then their hearts, and finally, their very sanity.

Angels had to fall. And demons could not protect fallen angels.

Everyone was going to fall. And there was nothing that a shattered demon boy named Eduard could do about it.

He could not even save his angel.


That night, lying alone in the dark, Panem wondered how it was that the world was so unfair, so cruel to some humans, and kind to others.

"There are people that don't even deserve to have families," she said, glaring at the empty darkness, "and those people have families anyways, even though they don't love the families they have. And then there are people who'd give anything for a family, and we don't get them. Don't you think you could be a little kinder? Stupid Fate. Why don't you have a personification? If you did, I'd make your suffering worse than Alfred's."

She longed for a family, and she wondered if it were possible that, had she been 'normal', she would have been able to achieve the goal of finding a family.

"But I am evil," she said. "The person that I am was created to be evil. I was born like that. It's not my fault, except maybe it is. Maybe I wouldn't be a bad person if… It's not my fault! It's not!"

She never cried when others could see her, and she rarely cried even when she was alone. But she knew she was evil, knew she was insane, and although she tried not to care, it still hurt. She could not achieve the goal of being 'normal'. And if she was not 'normal', then she could not have happiness. Happiness was not allowed for those who were evil, different, corrupted.

She had not known until the collapse of the world exactly what she was. She had known that she was a nation, like the others, but she had not quite understood the urges she got when she was around other nations, especially America. Sometimes, in those days, she had remained calm. At other times, however, there had been a voice in her head, a voice that told her horrible things, and yet, things that she liked.

"You are better than them. You are stronger, and you will conquer all of them one day. You hate them all. You want to kill them for hurting you. You will kill them one day. Have patience, little Panem. Grow strong. Then you can kill those people."

The voice had told her those things, and she had not realized until much later that the whispers in her head were born out of her people's minds.

The people who were her government had found her after the collapse had started, when the sea started rising. She was still little, having remained physically around thirteen for a very long time prior to the day when the men had come and take her away. She had gone with them, she had thought she could trust them. But she soon realized that their wish all along had been to kill her kin, the other nations, and although this was also her desire, it frightened her to realize that the voice in her head had been the wishes of her people, personified in a single frightening voice.

She did not like the men who governed her citizens. They frightened her. They allowed her to have her revenge because it suited their purpose, because they knew of the existence of personified nations and wanted the former personifications to die.

But she were to disobey their orders, they would lock her up and torture her into submission. They had made this clear when she had mentioned Latvia, when she had said that she wanted to keep that particular person for herself.

She was not allowed to have companionship. She was not 'human'. They had told her this, told her that she was better than that weak former personification. But they had given in a little, in the end. It was supposed to help her adjust to her new life.

They had given her five years with him. After those five years, when the now-human Raivis Galante reached the human age of twenty, she would have to kill him with her own hands. And then she would be alone again for the rest of eternity.

She only had five years, and yet, she already knew that it would not be enough, that it would take far longer than that before she was ready to let go of Latvia.

She needed him. He made her feel almost human, and although she knew that she was evil, that evil and inhumanity were a part of her, she longed for the normalcy that being around him gave her.

She had been happy for a brief moment, sitting next to Latvia, leaning over him, kissing him. But she had seen the tears in his eyes, the agony on his face, and she knew that he did not love her. He despised her, hated what she had done to him, and, more than that, he hated the fact that he was powerless to defeat her.

"Could you ever love me, Raivis?" she asked, once again addressing the darkness. "W-would you, if things had been different?"

She wondered if she could have protected him, shielded him. She had comforted him once, but it had done little good, for when he had cried in her arms, he had spoken of things which had taken place long ago, things which could not be reversed.

He had spoken of the torment he had undergone during the Soviet occupation. And she, as a child, had been first horrified, then sickened, and then, the sickness she felt had twisted into a desire to avenge the wrongs done to one Raivis Galante, her sole friend in the world.

It was for this reason that she wished to locate Russia. She would locate the man and punish him for hurting Latvia. And perhaps then, when she had murdered the man who had tormented him, Latvia would love her.

She knew he would not, for he was pure and kind and he loved even Estonia, who had also hurt him. And so of course he had already forgiven Russia.

But she clung to the hope of winning his love, somehow, so that she would not be alone forever in a tormented darkness.

"You've gotta work with me, Raivis," she murmured. "I only have five years. When five years is no more… Then you'll have to die. It's gonna hurt, so please give me a little happiness before you go. P-please… Don't leave me alone… With no good memories to hold onto."


In the empty darkness that came between one day and the next, England lay awake and listened to America cry.

He wished that it could be stopped, wished to end his brother's suffering, but he did not know how to do it. He was not sure that he could end America's suffering, even if he had all his magic back.

Nonetheless, he sat up, searching for America in the darkness.

"Alfie?"

"Go to sleep, England," America murmured. "Staying awake isn't gonna help."

"Well, it's not going to help you if I go to sleep, either," England said, finally locating America, sitting down next to his brother. "Being alone isn't particularly comfortable, Alfred. Now what's wrong?"

"I'm scared," America whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm scared that Panem will kill someone, and I won't be able to stop it. She… She's torturing everyone, Iggs. She's increasing everyone else's torture, but she hasn't touched you in who knows how long. And… I don't want her to kill you or anybody else!"

England stayed silent for a moment. He knew America's words to be true, in a sense. Panem had not touched him or even spoken to him for far too long. She was planning something, perhaps saving him for a most brutal torture. That thought frightened him, but he also accepted it, knowing that perhaps he could save the others from a terrible agony.

"But this is the end of the world, America," he said. "We are going to die one day anyways. And I know that is not what you want to hear. I do not want to think about that, either. But it is a possibility we must be prepared for. It may be that we will not survive."

He smiled sadly, knowing that America could not see him in the darkness.

"Even so… If anyone must die, I hope that it will be me. I would rather die than see anyone else killed. I know that that will hurt you, Alfred, perhaps more than you can stand being hurt… But, please. For my sake, attempt to accept my death, if I am to die. It will be better for everyone."

"But I don't want you to leave," America said, and he sounded like a frightened child in the dark.

"I don't want to leave either, America," England said. "But sometimes you don't have a choice about the leaving. It has to happen eventually."

America leaned against him, and he tensed, wondering why it was that the boy would voluntarily allow himself to be comforted. But then, this was prison, and it might well be that he was near the end of his life. America knew that as well as he did, and the boy's fear was unmistakable.

"Don't leave me, big brother," America said, and England could only shake his head.

"I don't have a choice, Alfred," he said. "And I am telling you to…"

"Damn it!"

America sat bolt upright, turned to England, shook him and shouted at him in the dark.

"Arthur, I am not going to accept it! I refuse to accept it! There! Now shut up and don't you dare die! Idiot!"

America was crying, and England felt guilty for not comforting the boy. He had tried to reconcile America to the inevitability of their deaths, and it had not worked. And all he could do now was try to comfort his brother as he had failed to before.

He reached out to America, and America came to him like the child that he still was deep inside, shaking and sobbing, and England could only hold his little brother and wish that these events could be reversed.

"Forgive me, Alfred," he said. "It was wrong of me to say that. It may be that we will escape this prison. Who can say? But no matter what, even if I die, you will not be alone. There are others here who care for you; others who will protect you."

"I don't want to be protected," America said. "Stupid England. Protection is the last thing I want."

"Then protect the others," England said. "If I die in protecting you…in protecting the others…then you can take my place."

"Don't let me die. If I die… No one will be able to save Alfred. He won't let anyone else protect him then."

America was still sobbing, harder now, and England did not have the strength or presence of mind to comfort his brother with words.

He held America until the boy fell asleep. Then he laid America on the floor, wishing for light so that he could see his little brother's face.

There was no light here, but he reached out, stroked America's hair, felt the awkwardness of his own mangled fingers and knew that he could not protect America from his demons.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not a particularly useful older brother. Older brothers are supposed to protect their siblings. I can't do that. But if I can die for you, Alfred… No matter what it will do to your mind, all that matters is that you survive. So if I can… I will die for you. I will protect you. You really ought to accept that. It would make things much less complicated."


Japan waited all through the day, and far into the night, grateful that Italy was finally asleep, and appeared to be intending to stay asleep for some time. He hoped the boy would not wake up, and he hoped that Panem would not come.

He got both his wishes, for it was now nearly morning, and Panem had not yet come.

"She will come today," he said to the dark cell and to the sleeping Italy. "She will come, and she will hurt one or both of us. I… I do not know if I can stop her from hurting Italy. But I have to. I have to. Somehow I have to make sure that he will not be hurt. How can I do it?"

He had not slept since he had been captured, had spent almost two days sitting alone in his cell, not speaking and not moving.

Italy had woken once, but had quickly succumbed to sleep again, and for this, Japan was grateful. The waiting tortured him, haunting him with the thought of the agony to come, and he did not want Italy to share in that mental anguish.

"She said China was here," he murmured to the darkness. "I must find him. I must see my brother. And I must protect Italy. I may have to protect China as well, if… If he has been hurt here. How can I do it? I… I am not strong like Germany or China. How can I hope to protect anyone?"

He wanted nothing more than to withdraw inside his own mind, to hide there in the silence, where Panem could not reach him. But if Panem could not reach him, neither could Italy. And Italy would need him. Italy was a child, a child who did not fully understand what was happening, and Japan would have to try to protect that child.

He glanced at Italy, and smiled sadly.

"She will come in the morning," he said. "Sleep well, Italy. It may be the last peaceful night's sleep you will get."

"But not if I can stop Panem from torturing him. If I can keep him safe… Then he may live to sleep peacefully once again."


OK, so this is basically a filler chapter. However, next chapter, things are going to get interesting. The end of the first half of this story is approaching, ladies and gentlemen. (Are there any gentlemen in this fandom? I don't know if I know any male Hetalia fans...) Anyways, the first half of the story is almost over, so things are going to start escalating in the next few chapters.

As previously stated, this story is going to be divided into two parts. Since part one has taken me over six months to write, and it's still not over, I am planning to take a short hiatus upon part one's conclusion. The hiatus will be no longer than two months, at which point I will return and write the second half of the story. I'll be planning out the second half during the hiatus. So yeah. I'm hoping to finish up the first half around November, so that I can resume writing around January 1st.

That bulletin over, some story notes:

Estonia's "angel and demon" analogy is purely in his head, and in no way connects to his actual fate. However, he finds it an extremely plausible idea, since, in his mind, both Lithuania and Latvia are far better people than he can ever be. Therefore, since they are 'good' people, they are angels, and since he is a 'bad' person, he is a demon. He's starting to believe this, although he really does know deep inside that it's all in his head.

Panem... Basically speaks for herself. I think that her 'government' has been plotting a world takeover for a long time, and when the sea started rising, they took the opportunity to take over. They know of the existence of personified nations, and want the old nations killed so that they cannot become immortal nations again and pose an obstacle to Panem. Basically.

Other than that, I think the rest of the chapter is pretty straightforward, so I'll shut up now.

Next week, things are going to get interesting. So I'll see you all then! :)