Okay, don't panic everybody. this isn't going to be some sappy-Twilight-fic. Trust me. I'm not a Twilight supporter.

I looked around ye ole internet and found that the whole vampire legend started (I think) in Russia. I'm going to do some research for this fic, but it might be a little historically off. But still, no sparkles. Promise. :D

I don't own Hetalia.

Ukraine took a deep breath.

These strange "attacks" always put her on edge. She couldn't handle taking care of Russia on her own, and there was no way she could ask for help from Belarus. She was sure her sister actually was not aware of their brother's strange…"condition", and would just make it worse.

Russia's room was dark, not only due to the dark night sky but everything about the room had a dark glow. Deep violets, blues, and browns that bordered on black draped and colored every piece of furniture, every wall drapery, everything. A clap of thunder roared outside. It hadn't started raining but it was in the air. Any minute a full midnight storm would roll in.

A groan came from the bed.

"Brother…?"

Ukraine carefully approached her brother's bed, a worried look on her face. Her feet barely made a sound as the moved closer to the bed.

Russia looked even worse than he did when she had last checked on him. Sweat rolled down his face and neck, his face scrunched up in pain. With a gasp, his eyes shot open, the intense violet they normal were seemed dulled and glassy. Gingerly, Ukraine reached to check his temperature.

Another gasp and Russia closed his eyes quickly. Ukraine noted how his Adam's Apple bobbed at her touch. She quickly pulled her hand away.

"I'm…I'm going to call the other nations you'll not able to go to the meeting tomorrow."

Ivan grunted. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Brother, please!"

"I am going."

"You need rest. As long as you stay here, it should pass in a few days-" Ukraine gasped as Russia increased his grip. With a quick pull, Russia brought his sister's wrist to his lips. Their eyes met, and Ukraine's heart physically hurt. She could tell, Russia was in so much pain. And there was nothing she could do to help him.

"Mmm…." His fingers twitched, his mind was in turmoil. Even going without his vodka was not this hard. He could feel his sister's pulse. Her life. Wouldn't it just be….delicious… to take it? Not all of it, just a little. Just enough to wet his lips.

No…he…He had self-control.

Russia tossed her hand away gently. His head rolled to the side on his pillow, away from Ukraine's eyes.

Ukraine sighed, "…If you still insist on going, at least let me come with you." Russia said nothing.

Ukraine looked her brother over one last time before slowly turning and leaving the room. She walked down the long, dark corridor and collapsed in a chair in one of the many living rooms in Russia's mansion.

"What am I going to do?" She felt tears swell up in her eyes. Her brother was so stubborn. She wanted to help him. This "disease" was…

"He needs someone…I need someone," A tear rolled down her cheek, "Someone to save him…"

Wait.

"A hero."

The conference was being held in London. Ukraine had been to a few world meetings, but something like the G8 was out of her league. The lobby in the front of the building was impressive in its own right. A high glass dome for a ceiling, elaborate wall décor, and comfy furniture rivaled some of the most impressive buildings she had ever seen. All the best for the world's biggest countries, she supposed.

Russia had held her hand the entire flight. It seemed to make him calmer, though he still wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"Sister, I'm going to check in," Russia walked away. Ukraine's hand suddenly felt very empty. She watched her brother walk up to a large desk that ran the length of one of the walls. As she watched Russia converse with the man behind the counter she heard a laugh. A loud, overly happy, obnoxious laugh. Taking a deep breath, she followed the sound.

Canada, America, and England where arguing about something. Rather, England was trying to argue with America, America was playing with England, and Canada just watched with a small smile.

"America…?"

Hearing his name, he turned away from England (much to the older country's annoyance) and grinned at Ukraine. "Oh hey! Uh….?"

"Ukraine."

"AHAHAHA! Sorry." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

England scolded him, "Really, America. You can't remember anything can you?"

"I remember stuff!" America glared at England.

"Fine then, where's your brother?"

America looked left, then right. Up, down, and behind him. "Uh…"

"See?! Can't even remember where Canada is!"

"Where is he?" America was truly stumped.

England faltered and cleared his throat, "That's why I was asking you…"

"Maple?"

"Excuse me? America, may I speak with you for a moment?"

It always surprised Ukraine how quickly America changed moods. His smile returned, "Sure."

The two of them walked over to a small sitting area. Glancing over her shoulder, Ukraine noticed that Russia was talking with China. Good.

"America…I need a favor."

"Anything! I am a hero after all!"

She would have smiled had the subject not be so serious, "Thank you, but let me explain before you accept. My brother is…feeling ill. He'll be better in a few days but until then he's very vulnerable. I'm asking you to…look after him. For me. In the meantime, I'll be taking care of Belarus. She…she would just make this illness worse."

America's smile faultered, "Look after him?"

"I can't explain it here. I can write you an e-mail about everything while you all are in the G8 meeting. I need to get back home to watch over Belarus, so I would really appreciate if you watched my brother for me," she felt embarrassed, water was building up in her eyes, "Please."

America actually looked serious. She breathed a sigh of relief when he said, "Okay."

"But I need details, alright?"

"Of course." They were going to get through this. They really were going to get through this! Taking a deep breath, Ukraine steadied herself, the hardest part was done, but explaining her brother's…condition…was still not going to be easy.

"My brother, Russia, has been a country for a long time." America nodded, and Ukaraine continued, "So, he's seen a lot of war, violence…bloodshed."

"Right."

"A few of his old bosses…loved torture. And every few months…Russia…craves it."

"Craves torture?!"

"No!" Another quick glance in Russia's direction. He was talking with England and France (or rather standing by them while they had a conversation, visibly making England and France uncomfortable). "I mean, he craves blood. It's become such large part of his history that he…"

America held up his hand, "Wait." Ukraine looked him in the eyes, trying to read him. He looked…determined, like a kid who had to speak in front a large group of strangers. He was afraid but at the same time, determined to work things out.

"So…every now and then, he turns into a vam-…he…he wants blood."

"…Yes."

"Why me?" Much to Ukraine's surprise, America still didn't look scared. He wanted an honest answer.

"Because you are the only one that's not afraid of him."

One by one the countries filed into the meeting room. England took the podium first, sorting through papers for the presentation.

Russia's head spun slowly. The room blurred in and out occasionally. The bottle of vodka in his coat was barely touched, its liquid contents sloshed around, much like Russia's nauseous stomach. He sat down towards the end of the table, and much to his surprise, America sat right down next to him, instead of his normal spot near the head of the table.

"Hey big guy." America's smile made Russia's head hurt more.

Russia looked away. The smile could be ignored, but the shine in America's eyes couldn't. The younger country was up to something, and Russia wanted no part in it.

What will happen at the meeting? Will America help Russia or just make everything worse? Stay tuned.

Reviews would be great. *Hint hint* :D