Chapter 92

Russia closed his eyes, keeping his hand on the radio as he turned it on. The music faded in through the room, though his mind… old waltzes. A very faint smile crept onto his lips as the memories of swirling snow outside tall windows filled his mind. Long candlelit nights of great dances in majestic ballrooms, of men and women in white silk swirling over the dance floor like butterflies. There was passion behind the music, but it made his soul ache...if Nations had a soul. If he had a soul… he wasn't sure anymore. Maybe the pain meant it was still there, somewhere.

Slowly, he slipped off his coat and laid it on the low chest at the end of his bed. His sweater followed, leaving only the soft cotton shirt underneath. Gently he took his scarf from his neck, laying it over his coat, petting down the soft finely hand-knit material as he stepped back. He looked down at his boots and kicked them off, gently moving them to the side of his bed, out of the way. He closed his eyes again with a deep sigh as he lifted his arms. His feet started to move, stepping across the hardwood like it hadn't been years.

The room around him melted away, and he was back in one of the great ballrooms. Olga, his Olga, was in his arms. An unspoken thing catching in their eyes between glances at each other and the other dancers.

"I almost forgot what a good dancer you are, Braginsky," She smiled, her eyes meeting his briefly.

"I've had a little practice," he smiled back, "And how often do I have to tell you to call me Ivan? Or Vanya if you wish…" he hoped.

She simply smiled again, keeping her eyes away from his.

The music ended and he offered her his arm, leading her back to where her family was seated. Nicholas gave him an understanding, almost playful look. A fatherly 'be careful with my daughter' glance that made Ivan smile again. He nodded in return, turning to sit next to Alexei.

"Are you enjoying the ball, little sailor?"

"I would like it more if I could dance," Alexei's voice was sad, almost pained. There was a loneliness hidden in it that made Ivan's heart sink.

"Here," Ivan stood and turned to the child. He glanced up at Nicholas, who gave a nod of approval, and reached to lift the boy into his arms.

"What are you doing, Vanya?"

Ivan pretended to look confused for a moment, then smiled, "Dancing."

Alexei smiled a little, nodding, "Ok…"

Ivan spun around with Alexei, laughing as the boy did. When he finally set him down after the song, he was a little out of breath, but happy. Alexei smiling at him made any effort in the world worth it. Nothing was as valuable as the smile of that child.

He turned as he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Olga.

"Thank you for helping my brother," she smiled softly, looking into his eyes, her own sparkling in the candlelight.

He reached for her hand, surprised when she allowed him to take it.

"If you're not too tired… I would dance with you again… Ivan."

He smiled, nodding and offering her his arm to lead her onto the dance floor. He brought his arm around her waist, and the other to her hand, pulling her close as the music started to play. And they danced.

Russia opened his eyes as a hand slipped into his, and another brought his arm around a girl's waist. He smiled.

"Katya," he kissed the top of her head with a smile, continuing to move across the room, holding her tightly.

"I heard the music…" she smiled, laying her head on his shoulder, "It's been a long time since I've seen you dance, Ivan, or heard you listening to music…"

He said nothing.

"It's old music…"

He nodded slowly.

"You only listen to this when you're sad, Vanya…" she looked up at him, "Tell me what's wrong…?"

He shook his head gently with a sigh and kept dancing with her, spinning her gently before she could ask another question.

"Vanya…" She stopped him, looking up into his eyes.

He pulled away, taking a few steps back to the radio and turning it off.

"Vanya?"

"What?" He didn't turn.

"You… you didn't eat supper tonight. I was worried… you… Are you all right…?"

"Everyone's leaving," he said the words flatly, but his voice almost broke at the end. He felt Ukraine's hand on his shoulder and turned slightly, not quite to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Vanya… I'm sorry…" She looked down, then up at his face, so much sisterly love in her face it made his heartache.

"Does it hurt?"

He nodded slowly, "Da…" he sighed, stepping back towards his coat and slipping it on.

Ukraine sat on the low chest at the foot of his bed. She picked up the scarf, the scarf she'd made him, and set it into her lap, folding it gently. She pet the fabric with a deep sigh. She looked up at him, her eyes drifting to rest on the bangs at his neck. She looked down at the scarf again.

"Vanya… when I made you this… do you remember what I said?"

He smiled, "Besides asking me for Kievan Rus?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, besides that, silly."

"You said you made it for me so you could always be with me…" he smiled sadly, "You will, won't you? Always be with me? Always be here?"

Ukraine nodded slowly, setting the scarf down on the chest and standing slowly, "It's worse though, isn't it?"

"What's worse?"

"The pain…. the… cold…?" she sighed, knowing she should expect an answer, "I heard you offered Gilbert Kaliningrad…"

"Da. He needs to stay with me, and he needs to stay alive. This is a good solution, da?"

Ukraine nodded slowly.

"You think he shouldn't take it…don't you Katya?"

She sighed, "Vanya…"

"Nyet. If you're going to try and tell me to just let him go-"

"I'm not exactly saying that but…Vanya you can't force people to stay with you…"

"Why would I need to do that? Shouldn't they stay on their own? Shouldn't they see everything I've done for them! Why would they want to leave me! Why are they leaving me!?"

"Have you seen what you've done to them? Do you know how badly you've treated them? How can you not see that!? Vanya…"

"I've made them stronger! I saved them, all of them, after the war, after America tried to make the whole world hate me!"

"You did that yourself!" She stood, looking into his eyes.

He looked away.

"You did that when you starting beating Lithuania again! When you tortured Gilbert! When you started keeping them locked away in here, forcing them to follow every rule, every order, making them your slaves in this house! Don't you see that…"

"Don't say that!" he grabbed her arm, "Why shouldn't they be grateful after all I've done for them! Katya, I can't lose them, I can't. They belong here. I protect them, I help them!"

"You… how do you not see what's happened to you!?" She pulled her arm away, bringing her hand to it, staring at him.

"The only thing that's happening to me, is learning how weak I used to be." his voice broke, and he turned away.

"Vanya…" Ukraine softened her voice, setting her hand on his shoulder, "If you think you're only stronger now… why did you dance?"

Russia closed his eyes, trying to fight tears. He wouldn't cry. He couldn't. He didn't want his sister to see him cry. He didn't answer, putting his hand on hers.

"Katya-" His words cut off as she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Ivan, you…" tears spilled over her cheeks, "You're the best brother… the best little brother ever…"

Ivan closed his eyes, exhaling hard and holding her tighter, shaking his head, "Katya don't…" he whispered, "Please… please don't…" he could feel her ribs heaving as she sobbed, clinging to him.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry I have to…I need my freedom, I have to go…. I have to…" she pulled away from the hug and turned to the scarf again, picking it up. She looked at it for a moment, running her hand over the soft fine-knit wool, tears streaming down her cheeks. Slowly, she let the scarf unfold, reaching up to slip it around her brother's neck.

"I will always, always be with you…"

"I'll never forgive you if you leave…" He set his jaw, desperately forcing himself not to cry.

Her bright blue eyes shimmered with tears as she looked into his face, "I'm sorry. Even if you never forgive me… I'm sorry. I have to…" She hugged him, clinging.

He didn't hug back, closing his eyes, "Get out."

She looked up at him, silently begging for him to look at her. He didn't. She turned away, nodding. She understood… almost. She turned towards the door, looking back at him as tears threatened to choke her, "You… You'll always be my baby brother… Vanya." She closed the door behind her.

Ivan fell to his knees, leaning against the chest to steady himself. His body ached, the angry painful tears burning in the back of his throat. He let himself cry. From pain, from anger, from breaking, from being torn apart. He couldn't fix it. All he wanted to do was fix it. To bring his family back together. Why would they try and leave him? He loved them, couldn't they all see he cared about them? He needed them. He didn't have anyone else. They had to stay! He needed them to stay…

…

Russia threw open Gil's door, staring down at the white-haired Nation lying on his side. He could almost hear the shaking breath from where he stood in the doorframe. He saw Gil's eyes flick open to meet his silhouette.

"You have ten minutes to get up, dressed, and be in my car. Otherwise, you won't be there to talk about the reunification," he slammed the door closed again behind him.

Prussia groaned, rolling his eyes at Russia. He sat up on his elbow, looking down at the edge of the bed. He could do this. He forced himself to sit up, digging for willpower he wasn't sure he had anymore. He managed to get his feet to the floor, then stood, his legs shaking with pain and aching with illness. He didn't want to move. His stomach churned with the sudden change in gravitational direction, and he doubled over, trying to keep the supper he hadn't touched from coming back up. He reached for the drugs. He didn't have enough time as it was, but he would make time for it. He didn't think he would get through it without them.

He set the syringe down, sighing deeply and rubbing his arm to relieve the stinging he no longer felt. It was more of a habit than a necessity. He glanced at the small closet and forced himself to walk towards it, dressing in his uniform. He didn't have time to make it as perfect as he wanted it to be. He winced as he pulled on the sleeves, almost gasping with pain. He felt like he was breaking apart as his people left. He didn't care. He wanted them to leave. Let him die. Let him fade if it meant freedom for them.

A voice in the back of his mind reminded him of Russia's offer. An offer that would save his life, would give him something he could represent. It was still more than tempting.

He looked at the clock. He didn't have time for to think. He tugged on his boots, lacing them quickly. He'd have time to fix that in the car. He tried to smooth out his hair for a few seconds before completely giving up, and braced himself on the door before opening it. He tried to hurry down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. He stepped outside and opened the car door, sliding in with almost a minute to spare. He didn't bother looking at Russia.

"So, I made it. Let's go," he said.

"All right then."

Prussia set his jaw, he could hear Russia's condescending admiration in his voice. But he'd impressed the bigger country, and that gave him some satisfaction.

"You didn't think I could do it, did you?" he smirked a little on the side Russia couldn't see.

"I figured you could manage if you set your mind to it… with some motivation, da?"

He shrugged, "Ten minutes is a long time to get ready for anything in the military."

"Well considering how sick you are, I thought I'd be extra nice to you."

"Danke," Gil said, pure sarcasm blatantly evident in his tone.

"You are most welcome of course. Considering how much pain you're in, it was the reasonable thing to do, da?"

Prussia set his jaw.

"So tell me, GDR, how much pain are you in? How does it feel to be torn apart?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that," he whispered coldly.

Russia laughed, "And why would you be asking me this?"

"Because I know everyone is leaving."

"Some of them have said as much, da. But no one has left yet. They're going to stay. I'm going to make sure they stay."

"By beating them?" Prussia dared to ask.

"Probably not."

"Oh? Probably not, how reassuring," Prussia rolled his eyes. He winced as Russia grabbed his face, turning it towards him.

"Don't speak to me like that, Gilbert. If you weren't sick I'd make you regret it?"

"Now, or when we get back?" Prussia pulled his face back, holding Russia's hand away from his face with a much less powerful grip than he wished he was capable of.

"Are you challenging me?" Russia asked, almost amused, the sickeningly childish smile on his face.

"No. I don't think you're up for it."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I am WAY more awesome than you."

A/N: Hi! I'm here again! Lol. Anyway, another chapter for you all! More Russia! I needed more Russia... The beginning of this chapter was really heartbreaking to write... :(

Ukraine technically announced it was separating from the USSR a bit after the reunification of Germany, but since she's not actually leaving until after... I fudged the time of the announcement. XD

Hugs and cookies and all good things for all of you! And thank you SO much to those of you who are still faithfully reviewing! I love you all! *HUGS*. Hmmmm a special treat fo you... well... there's a new Boba tea place in my city, and it's SO GOOD. So delicious Boba tea for all of you!