Chapter 77

"Had enough?" General Winter snarled, pulling Lithuania's head back by his hair again.

"Yes…" Lithuania whispered, trying to hold back the sob in his throat, trying to stop shaking. He couldn't stop shaking.

"So weak," General Winter threw his head forward hard enough to strain his arms again.

Lithuania winced, turning to look back at the Giant, "Is he alive?"

"I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to show you."

Lithuania didn't bother struggling as his numb hands were unbound from the chair. He barely felt the handcuffs click around his wrists as he was kicked off the chair to the ground, then dragged towards the door. He fought to get to his feet, trying to shake his head and arms free from General Winter's grip. His head was kept down by the giant's hand as he was forced through the door, around the corner, and through another door. The light was brighter in the room, though he could only see the floor. There was blood on it. He winced, rolling to his side as General Winter dropped him to the ground. He looked up slowly, gasping.

"F-Feliks…?" he whispered.

Poland laying on the ground on his back, his hands at his sides, his face turned away from the door. His bare chest was coated in blood, the long deep wounds from years ago reopened and raw. Red prints from General Winter's hands were all over him and the floor.

Lithuania tried to drag himself towards Poland, struggling again as General Winter grabbed his cuffed wrists. He felt the chains unlatch. He scrambled to his feet, running to Poland and kneeling beside him, turning his face gently.

"Felek, Felek, can you hear me?" He whispered, brushing the sweat-stuck hair out of his friend's face. The green eyes were open but didn't focus on him. He hit his cheek, gently, trying to wake him, "Please… Felek, please…"

Poland blinked hard, groaning, taking a deep, shaking breath. He looked up at Lithuania. "You're… like… totally late again…" he forced a smile.

Lithuania didn't even try to hide the tears, looking down at Poland's chest, "Are you ok…?"

Poland nodded, "Yeah… totally fine…" he forced himself to smile, wincing hard, "Phoenix, remember?"

Lithuania nodded, turning to look back at General Winter. He couldn't think of anything to say, he just stared at him, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"He'll live," General Winter shrugged, walking out of the door and closing it behind him.

Lithuania heard the bolt latch. He didn't care. He looked back down at Poland's chest, "I'm sorry…"

"This isn't… your fault…" Poland whispered, his voice strained, "Do… do you think the girls… got to them…?"

"I hope so," Lithuania bit his lip. Poland needed help, more help than he could give on his own. He needed Estonia. He looked at the door. No one would hear him… unless the girls were still downstairs. He prayed they weren't. General Winter was going back to Gil and Russia, and if they were there… he didn't want to think about it.

…

Belarus looked up as the giant black door started to creak open wider, the long shadow of General Winter breaking through the dim light of the hallway. She looked back at her sister. They weren't getting out of this. He would find them and he would see everything. She turned to the door again and stood, laying Prussia's head gently on the stone, her blood-soaked apron beneath his head. She lifted her skirt, pulling out the giant knife she kept at her thigh. She looked towards the door, ready to distract the General herself if she had to. She couldn't let him touch her brother. She glanced back at Russia, who had barely moved enough to drink the broth.

The door scraped against the stone as General Winter's boot hit the stone floor of the room.

Belarus turned to look up into the ice-grey eyes.

"Hello father…" she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Bela. Are you finished 'helping' them yet?"

She took a step back, her stomach churning as if punched, "How… how did you…"

"Why else would Lithuania and Poland dare to interrupt me? They're not that stupid. I knew about their 'distraction'. I made them pay for it. But you…" he grabbed her right wrist suddenly, lifting her off the ground.

Belarus kicked, struggling to wrench her hand free. She kept her fingers locked around the knife. She wouldn't let go. She tried to flip it in her hand, trying to stab it into his arm.

He laughed, throwing her against the wall.

Belarus winced hard, reaching for her head with her left hand. It hurt, but it wasn't bleeding. She felt sick suddenly, her skin going cold. A deep ache settled into her side under her ribs. She brought her hand to it, her eyes widening with realization as her breath quicker, heavy with pain. She didn't want to look down.

"Bela!" Russia tried to stand, dragging himself towards her with Ukraine's help.

She fell back against the wall, sliding down it until she met the floor. Slowly, she pulled the knife from her skin, in too much pain to cry out. She pressed her hands over the wounds, staring forward, trying to think. She glanced at Prussia, who looked up at her with horror in his face. She closed her eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her bleed.

"IVAN!" She screamed, kicking at Germany as he clawed at her legs. She'd stabbed him in the leg, sending him to the ground. She gasped, falling forward as the bigger country's hand closed around her ankle. She hit her head on the cold ground, struggling as he pulled her back towards him, turning her onto her back.

"No, no please!" She begged in her own language, grabbing for the knife she wore at her hip. She wasn't fast enough. She gasped in pain as Germany's bayonet drove into her ribs. She looked up at him, the grey sky behind his head drawing her attention away from his bloodied face. Smoke took the place of clouds as her homeland burned. She looked back into Germany's face. His eyes were heavy with rage, his bleeding mouth curled into a threatening smile.

"RUSSIA!" She screamed again, trying to kick her way out from under the blonde country. She kneed him below his belt, turning and pulling herself up as he was distracted by pain. She stabbed her knife into his left shoulder where it met his neck, down into his body past his collarbone. She left the knife, taking a step back, frantically looking searching for her gun.

"Looking for this?"

She felt cold metal on her neck beside her long platinum braid. It was Prussia's voice. She didn't dare turn. She looked down at Germany as he pulled her knife from his shoulder, standing slowly, looking into her face. Where was her brother? He promised he'd come for her. He had to be seeing this. She was protecting the border. She was trying to keep Germany away from him. He had to help her. She was trying to keep him safe… She set her jaw hard, closing her eyes for a moment, determined to risk it. She moved her head, elbowing Prussia hard in the chest, grabbing for her gun. She brought the pistol forward firing three shots into Germany's chest. She gasped, dropping the weapon. She looked down. Her own knife was buried into her stomach, Germany's hand closed around the hilt. She could see the scarlet tip of Prussia's bayonet tearing through the fabric of her uniform. She grabbed Germany's collar in an attempt to steady herself as her knees gave way. She fell to the ground, taking Germany with her, his own breath choked with blood.

Vaguely, she heard Prussia run around her towards his brother, drawing his bayonet from her body. She closed her eyes, her vision blurring. Slowly, she opened them again, looking up at the grey sky. It was warm… why was it warm…? She didn't see Germany or Prussia. She looked up, turning her head, trying to look back towards their troops. They were leaving. They'd done it. She'd done it. She'd kept them out, away from her brother… He was going to be safe… She turned again, looking behind her towards the warmth. Fire. The flames drew closer, the wind forcing them to catch the dry grass of the field. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to reach her.

She pulled the knife from her body, letting it drop to the ground. She coughed blood, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pushed the blood from her mouth. She looked up again, trying to see her brother. He had to be there. He had to be coming for her… The world started to go black, the grey sky fading away at the edges. She tried to hang on, she had to wait for Ivan. He would come. He would be there… he had to be there…

"Natashyen'ka?"

She barely heard her brother's voice. She felt his strong hands around her, one under her head, one pressing into the wound in her stomach. She could feel the blood soaking the back of her uniform. More tears fell down her cheeks. She couldn't sob, her body wouldn't let her. She looked up into her brother's face, barely able to see it through her blurred vision.

"I-Ivan…?" She whispered with a faint smile. He wasn't hurt. He was alive…

"I'm here. I'm right here…" he pet her face, "You did so well… spasiba, Natashyen'ka…"

She smiled faintly still, coughing more blood again. His hand petting her cheek was comforting, "Are you… are you proud of me…?"

He nodded, "So very much…"

"Do you love me?"

He didn't answer, only lifted her up carefully, letting her head rest on his shoulder, "I'm taking you home."

She didn't argue, closing her eyes, consciousness slipping away.

"Natashyen'ka…?"

Her brother's voice faded in. She looked up at him, her eyes refusing to focus. She blinked hard, trying to look at his face, "Ivan…?" she whispered. She wanted to reach for his face, but her arms refused to move.

Russia turned to look back at General Winter, "We had a deal! You made a promise! You said you would never hurt her! Or Katya!"

"I didn't," General Winter said coldly.

Russia looked back at Bela's hand, closed around her knife. He had to do something. He couldn't leave her like this. He was too weak to fight General Winter. He couldn't fight him. He couldn't win this. He closed his eyes, then looked back down at his little sister, so small, and bleeding so much.

"Natya…" he touched her face with his bloody hand, trying to provide what comfort he could. She scared him more often than she didn't, but she was his little sister…

Prussia looked at Belarus, shaking his head, angry. He looked up at General Winter and forced himself to stand. He struggled to walk forwards, barely able to hold his head up. He stood in front of General Winter, his hands closing into fists.

"Are you still trying to fight me?" General Winter looked down at him, amused.

"Yeah, I'm awesome like that," Prussia snapped.

General Winter laughed, shoving Prussia back to the ground easily and turning to Russia, grabbing his hair and dragging him towards the middle of the room, pulling a knife from his belt.

"Get away from him!" Prussia stood again, grabbing for General Winter's hand on Russia's hair.

"Nyet!" General Winter grabbed Prussia's neck, still holding the knife, letting it cut across the white skin.

Prussia didn't move, looking up into the grey eyes, "I'm not afraid of you…" he whispered.

"You should be," General Winter threw him down again.

Prussia winced as his head slammed against the stone ground. He tried to sit up, his head spinning. He felt sick, the world moving in slow motion. He opened his eyes slowly, his vision blurry. He tried to figure out what he was seeing, trying to process. The room was brighter suddenly, figures running through the room. They were all white, their skin translucent and bright. He looked back at Belarus. Three of the figures were near her. He turned to General Winter. He couldn't see him. The white figures were all around the giant, and one of them, a boy of around 14, was kneeling beside Russia on the floor. Prussia felt a hand on his cheek. He looks up to see a young woman, bangs on her forehead and a bow in her hair, leaning over him.

"You're going to be all right…" she smiled, her expression kind, loving.

He looked up at her, confused. Her mouth hadn't moved, but he'd heard her clearly. He felt her hand on his hair, brushing it away from his face. He closed his eyes, the world going black.

A/N: Something of a shorter chapter... but here you all go! Another update already! :D :D :D So... who are the ghosts? ;)

A bit of WWII history again here. VERY condensed, but the Germans occupied Byelorussia (as it was then called) from 41 to 44. But they didn't get very far into Russia. In total, they killed an estimated 2,230,000 people... which is why Bela was so badly injured. This scene was sad... This chapter, in general, was sad... (my gosh poor Poland...) but it ends with some hope I think. Maybe? You'll all see soon. :)

Thank you all for the reviews! :D yay! I really REALLY love reading them! Even if they're really short, I still love them! Thank you all! *hugs* Have some cocoa for this one. It's getting a bit cold anyway... so cocoa for comfort and warmth. :)