Chapter 12

Prussia turned the final page of his book, reading the last few sentences. He smiled. Finishing a good book was always a bittersweet moment. He didn't enjoy reading as much as his brother, but it passed the time, especially while he was healing. He stood from his chair in his room, taking his boots off the table he'd been resting them on. He took the book with him, walking into the hallway. It was quiet. He looked back into his room, realizing it was well past midnight. He walked down the long, sad halls, past the Baltic's rooms. He glanced at Poland's door but didn't look in. He traced his hand along the beautiful white molding halfway up the hallway, dividing detailed paintwork from solid grey. There were mirrors on both sides of the walls. He paused, looking at himself in one of them. He looked more tired than he had when he'd arrived, and he was much thinner. His arms had almost fully healed, though a few residual bruises could be seen on them still.

He sighed, knowing that along with healing, came more time with Russia. He hadn't forgiven him. He would never forgive him. He hadn't slept well since they'd brought him upstairs. The unrest of his people made his stomach turn. He knew every time they killed someone trying to get over the wall, he could feel it. He'd felt pain from wars before, a deep ache in his chest when thousands of soldiers would die, but never like this. This was different. Everything was different.

He turned away from the mirror, continuing to walk towards the library. He wasn't sure if he was going to pick up another book, but he wanted to look. Everyone was asleep, another reason he wasn't. The whole house was still, still and cold. Sometimes at night, it was almost creepy, like the walls had secrets of their own. He tried not to think about that. He turned into another hallway. So many hallways. The house was far bigger than it needed to be for just a few people. It was more like a palace. They stayed in one small corner of it, the rest left untended and alone. Lithuania had told him that the revolution had caused most of the rest of the house to be looted and destroyed.

He shivered, hearing music fade in as he walked down the hallway. It was coming from the third floor. No one was ever on the third floor. They all slept on the second and worked on the first. He'd never even been up there. He debated continuing towards the hallway and writing it off as just another strange thing about Russia's house, but he was curious. He doubled back to the door that lead to the old servant's staircase. He turned the handle, and to his surprise, the door opened, the music growing louder. He walked up the stairs slowly, setting his book at the top of the landing, turning the corner to walk up the next set, the music more prominent with every step. He walked through the already-open door at the top of the stairs. Another long hallway stood before him. He could clearly see that it was once incredibly beautiful, but now it stood in ruins. Cobwebs draped over the ceiling, the floor had been torn apart for the fine wood, leaving only the old under-layer, almost rotting, covered in a thick layer of dust. There were footprints in it. He followed them, letting them lead him to a huge set of double doors. The music was very loud now. He put his hand on the door handle, and cracked it open, looking inside the ballroom.

It was Belarus. She was dancing, her arms around an invisible figure. Prussia kept watching, curious, staying behind the door. It was like watching a painting move. Belarus wore a beautiful, long, sky blue gown, her hair falling over her shoulders and back in soft curls. She laughed, spinning, holding the hand of her unseen dance partner. Prussia smiled, he'd never heard her laugh before. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. He tried to look around the room without opening the door further. He couldn't see where the music was coming from. He heard more laughter, people talking, and children playing. He shivered. There was no one else in the room with her.

Belarus laughed again, letting her invisible partner lower her into a dip. She smiled, standing and touching his face. She curtseyed a low, noble curtsey. As she stood, the music slipped away, the sounds of the grand ball fading with it. Tears streamed down her face as she turned to watch everyone drift away. She smiled suddenly, leaning down to hug one of the children, who ran to her before fading with the rest of his family. She stayed on her knees in the center of the dance floor. She brought her hands to her face and wept.

Prussia debated walking up to her and trying to comfort her, but he waited, watching. Too many strange things were happening for him to risk walking into that room, even though it was hard to watch a girl cry.

Belarus let the sobs overtake her, her thin frame shaking. She looked up again, around the room, like she was watching people leave.

Prussia felt cold suddenly, even more than usual. It was a different kind of cold. He turned back to Belarus, who still knelt on the floor. He saw a shadow through the door at the other side of the room. The door opened and Belarus stood. He tried to see who was on the other side.

Liet. He stared, shocked.

Toris, dressed in his formal military uniform, walked up to Natalya, taking her hand and touching her cheek, wiping away her tears. "You still dance with him?"

"It makes him smile. It makes them happy…" Natalya smiled sadly, letting Toris push more tears away from her eyes.

"Does Ivan know you're up here."

"No…" She looked up at him, "And if you tell him I'll kill you." She smirked, playfully.

He smiled back, nodding, "Your secret's safe with me."

There was a long pause before Natalya spoke again, "Why are you here, Torshka?"

"I miss you." He touched her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear.

She looked down, bit smiled, "I know…"

"Natashen'ka…"

"Don't…" She put her fingers to his lips as he brought his face closer to hers. "Don't say it, please…" She whispered, almost so quietly that Prussia could hear her from the doorway. He healed in, trying to listen.

"Why not? I've said it before…" He slipped his hand from her hand to around her waist.

"I know… but…" She slid her hand to his shoulder, pulling it back as he winced. "Torshka, are you hurt?"

He shook his head, "It's nothing."

"My brother?" She looked away, biting back tears.

He nodded, "Isn't that why you scare him away?"

She nodded too, looking up at him. "If he's afraid of me… he won't hurt me." She sighed deeply. "It works." She shrugged, still not looking at Toris.

He lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his, "I'm all right. I've always been all right."

"Even when he gave you-"

"Yes. Even then."

"You were sick for weeks… I…" She looked down again.

"I survived, didn't I?" He looked around to see her face.

She nodded, looking up at him, "Yes. You did," she smiled.

He touched her cheek.

She brought her hand to his, resting against it, letting him rub her cheek, a few tears falling against his skin. She pulled his hand down, holding it. "You… you should go…"

"Without one dance?" He whispered back.

She nodded. "I can't risk it. If Ivan found out…" She shook her head.

"You wouldn't have to worry."

"You think I would let him kill you for this?"

Toris said nothing, "He wouldn't."

"I don't know that…" she sighed deeply, "Look, you… you should go."

"And the rest of your friends?"

"They won't come back tonight," she shook her head.

"Then you'll be alone?"

"Yes. By myself." She looked up at him.

"Are you sure?" He let his hand slid back to hers.

She nodded, sadly, "Da. I'm sure."

"All right." He lifted her hand to his lips and bowed.

She smiled, curtseying in return.

"Good night, Natashen'ka."

"Good night, Torshka."

He let of her hand, standing and walking out of the room.

Prussia watched as Belarus stood in the middle of the dance floor for a moment, before bursting into sobs, letting herself fall to her knees. He closed the door silently. He couldn't watch anymore. He was still stunned, trying to process everything he'd just seen.

She was dancing with a ghost? He shook his head. Weird. He walked back down the hallway, quietly, and down the stairs, picking up his book on his way down. He still had to get to the library before everyone else woke up.

…

Gil turned the last corner to get to the Library. To his surprise, the door was already opened. He walked in and froze. Russia was at his desk in the library, his head resting against it, a glass of clear liquid still in his hand. Prussia doubted it was water. Papers, books, and folders were scattered across the desk.

Slowly, Prussia took another step forward. "Russland?" he whispered. Russia didn't stir. He walked closer, all the way up to the desk. He glanced down. Two empty bottles of vodka sat near Russia's feet, and the glass in his hand was less than full. Prussia looked over the papers without touching them. They were all about the war with America. If it was a war.

Prussia looked down at him, "Russland?" He said, louder this time, trying to wake him.

Nothing.

Prussia dared to put his hand on Russia's shoulder, shaking him. It didn't work. He could see that Russia was breathing. He paused, thinking. He set down his book on the desk and used both hands to try and shake Russia awake. He wasn't quite sure why he didn't just ignore the giant country and leave, but somehow he felt pity for him.

Maybe that's what Liet meant when he said he couldn't hate him. Prussia sighed, finally managing to get a groan from Russia.

"W-what…what's?" Russia's voice was a low growl, barely conscious.

"Come on." Prussia put Russia's arm over his shoulder. "You fell asleep at your desk…" He still wasn't sure why he was helping him, "I'll help you get back to your room."

Russia nodded.

Prussia doubted he knew what was going on, or who was helping him. He lifted Russia carefully, his arms aching. "Can you walk at all?" He asked, trying to keep Russia awake.

Russia didn't answer, but his legs gave way, sending both of them crashing to the ground.

"Really?" Prussia rolled his eyes, standing, looking down at Russia. He looked to the door, and ran to it, looking out into the hallway. He smiled as he saw Lithuania walking down it.

"Toris. It's Russia, come help?" Prussia nodded him inside.

Lithuania ran in, following Prussia. They walked to Russia, both looking down at him, trying to figure out what to do.

"How often does this happen?" Prussia asked, confused.

"Usually only on special anniversaries," Lithuania sighed.

"Oh… that explains-" Prussia stopped, "That explains it." He nodded, catching himself. He looked at Lithuania, who gave him a confused glance, but quickly looked back at Russia.

"You grab one arm, I'll get the other," Lithuania sighed, reaching for Russia's right arm.

Prussia shrugged in agreement. He lifted Russia's left arm over his shoulder again, nodding to Lithuania as they both raised Russia to his feet as the giant country mumbled something incoherently.

"At least his room is nearby." Lithuania rolled his eyes, trying to hold onto Russia, who kept trying to fall back onto the floor.

Slowly, the two of them carried Russia back into his room and to his bed. Russia was completely unconscious by the time they got there.

Lithuania took off Russia's boots, setting them aside.

"There, that's fine, he'll wake up in a few hours." Lithuania turned towards the door.

"Wait," Prussia stopped him. "What about his scarf?"

"No!" Lithuania snapped then stopped, looking first at Gil, then back at Russia. "Go ahead," he said finally.

Prussia looked at him, confused, and walked up to Russia, lifting his head to unwrap the scarf. He stopped, looking back at Lithuania before lifting the fabric from Russia's neck. "Why did you say 'no'?" Prussia looked into his face.

"You'll find out," Lithuania said.

Prussia couldn't read his tone. He turned back to Russia, looking down at him, and lifted the scarf from his neck. He froze, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. He opened his eyes again, looking down at Russia's neck. It was covered in deep, ragged scars. Some of them looked thousands of years old, some of them looked almost new.

"W-what…?" he whispered.

Lithuania walked past him, to a small shelf in the room, taking a few bandages from it and walking up to Russia again. He knelt beside the bed, taking one of the cloths and starting to wrap it around Russia's neck.

Prussia hadn't moved, still staring at Russia's neck. "W-what happened?"

Lithuania sighed deeply, continuing to bandage the scars. "He did."

"What?"

"I told you, Prussia, there are a lot of things you don't know."

Prussia sighed, the sadness in Lithuania's voice was painful.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I caught him… adding one," Lithuania sighed.

"What? When?"

"It doesn't matter," Lithuania tucked the edge of the bandage in, and stood, turning to Prussia. "Don't tell anyone what you've seen, especially Russia. He knows I know, but no one else does. Now you do. Don't tell him or he'll make both of us regret it."

Prussia nodded, "I won't." He was starting to collect more secrets than he wanted.

"Good. Good night, Gil." Lithuania walked out of the room without another word.

Prussia followed, closing Russia's door behind him. He paused at it, watching Lithuania turn into his own room. He sighed, looking up and down the long hall. So many secrets. He thought back to the ballroom and the invisible figures Belarus danced with, the sounds of a party filling the room. He shook his head, walking to his room.

This house has too many secrets, he sighed.

A/N: Another chapter, yay! This one is both sweet and sad I think. We learned more about Lithuania, Belarus, and Russia! There's more to Russia than Gil first thought, and he's going to continue to learn. While I did say this is a non-pairing story... I'm sorry... I have a bit of a soft-spot for LietBela, so there you go... if you all hate it, I'm sorry. It won't feature too much into the story, but Lithuania liking her is canon! It's canon I tell you! (of course... my idea of Belarus is a little different... but she's a favorite character of mine, and I think she's too smart to just be crazy miss 'marrymemarryme' and nothing else. She's smart enough to know she needs her brother's protection, but if she can scare him, then he will leave her alone. This skill will come in handy later for her and several others. ;)

Belarus dances with ghosts. Any guesses as to which ghost? Also, in case you are wondering what Russia's house is... I've kinda moved the Winter's Palace from St. Petersburg to Moscow because I LOVE the idea of Russia living in that building. Also, it's one of my favorite historical buildings of all time, so describing it makes me happy. I suggest googling it. It's a museum now, and it's INCREDIBLE.

Of all the characters that have tried to kill themselves... It just makes SO MUCH sense to me for the one who tries the most often to be Ivan. This is absolutely where I think the scars on his neck come from. It's ridiculously sad, I know, but it makes sense to me. Russia is complicated, that's probably why he's my favorite character (tied with Prussia... I can't decide which one is my favorite of those two. They're tied. Followed by Liet, then Belarus)

Reviews are, as always, deeply appreciated! I love replying to you all! Thank you, Kattie for continuing to review, even though I can't reply! I'm glad you're enjoying it, and thanks for the virtual hugs and cookies! Sending more your way!