The day had been horrendous. Finland could remember only a few days when he'd been so furious. World meetings always had a similar effect on him, but usually it was not this bad. The moment he got home, he went to the garage and dug around in the boxes of long-forgotten items. He searched for every breakable thing he owned (and didn't want) and he piled them up in the backyard. He then stormed into the shed near the back of his property, and grabbed a few things: work gloves, his axe, and a set of safety goggles. He stomped back out to his yard and stopped just short of a large porcelain pot. He set his axe down and rolled down his bloodied sleeves. He pulled the gloves on with speed and force, muttering Finnish swears and insults under his breath. He pulled the goggles down over his face, and he picked his axe up once more. He gave the thing a few practice swings to ensure that he had a good grip on it. Then, he stooped to pick up the pretty porcelain pot at his feet. One last time, he checked to make sure that the axe in his prosthesis was securely in place, and once he was sure that he would not lose it, he threw the pot high into the air, and with great speed, he took a batting stance and swung the axe. The poor pot smashed into a thousand glittering pieces, which scattered all around him.
He continued on this way for quite some time. In the span of about fifteen minutes, Finland had created a mess so great that from a distance, one might wonder if it had snowed and they'd missed it. When Finland was finally satisfied, he dropped the axe, stripped off his gloves and goggles and stashed them back in the shed. With heavy steps, he trudged up the stairs to the back door, and tiredly, he swung it open. All at once he was exhausted. Days like this really took a toll on him. He should have known better than to snap back when America made that thoughtless insult. But it had been directed at him, and he would not let it stand if he could help it. Thinking about it now, he knew he'd made the wrong choice.
He walked to the kitchen, pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. He glanced down at his hands. There was new blood from where the glass and porcelain had pierced and stuck into his skin, but there were also older blood spatters on the sleeves of his shirt from earlier that day. The fight that he and America got into hadn't been play. It was as real as life and death, and both of them had fought as though that were the case. He dreaded to think about what he looked like, but if it was anything like America after their spat, then Finland knew that he had a long couple of days ahead of him. He didn't move from his spot, though… He didn't want to deal with any of it right then.
Finland closed his eyes and leaned his head back over the top of the chair. He tried to clear his mind, but the look of terror on America's face before he blacked out would stick with him no matter what he tried to think of. Not even thinking of Estonia could push the image from his troubled mind. Finland had blacked out before things got nasty, and when he came to, America looked like someone had hit him upside the head again and again with a brick. His nose was bloody and broken, his left eye was swollen shut, blood dripped down his chin from his mouth, and there were scratches criss crossing his neck. He wondered if America had done that much damage to him… He'd find out soon enough. But while his blood was still flush with adrenaline, he wouldn't worry about it.
Just as he was about to doze off, Finland heard footsteps. Whoever it was tried the door, and swore when they found it locked. But when Finland heard the scraping of a heavy pot, he knew who was there. Soon enough, he heard the click of a lock. And in through the door walked the only person Finland would have been happy to see. "Hey, Estonia," He murmured quietly. He may as well not have even spoken, though, because by the time he'd gotten the words out of his mouth, Estonia had tossed all of his things aside and had rushed over to Finland, swearing under his breath.
"Have you seen yourself?" Estonia asked, voice full of worry.
Finland didn't say anything for a moment. "Not yet," He said. "I had to come home and break things… I've just been sitting here." Finland caught Estonia looking out the open back door.
"I can tell you've been breaking glass," Estonia said, gently taking Finland's hand. He took a deep breath, and wordlessly, Estonia turned and walked off. Before Finland could wonder where he'd gone, he was back, a first aid kit in his hand. "Well, we'd better get you taken care of before it gets worse,"
Finland nodded, not daring to speak. He knew that Estonia was still furious with him. He knew that if the situation were reversed, he'd be upset with Estonia. He didn't blame him. But at the same time, he was so grateful that he wasn't withholding care and kindness from him. That would be so much worse. Finland sat up straight, but he didn't look at Estonia. He hated the face that Estonia made when he was angry at him. He didn't want to feel worse than he already did. He'd rather look like a guilty dog than see that look.
Estonia didn't seem too focused on Finland himself, though. He seemed much more preoccupied with the injuries he had. He was completely silent as he plucked glass out of Finland's arm with a pair of tweezers. He was careful and methodical as he worked. It was no wonder that he had often been assigned to work in med bays in times of war. It suited him well - taking care of people. "This one's going to need stitches, Timo," Estonia said coldly. Now Finland could be certain that Estonia was upset. He only called him Timo when he was upset… But even so, Estonia cared for him. He cleaned all of Finland's scratches and cuts without complaint. He stitched what needed stitching.
After he was finished with that, he took a moment to clean up the area he occupied at the table - tossing anything with blood on it, anything that had been used. He then wiped the area off before returning to Finland. After that, he went to work on Finland's face. There would be no avoiding Estonia now. Like before, Estonia was cold and silent. One of Estonia's hands served as a rest to keep Finland from flinching or moving. He picked all the bits out of Finland's cheeks and chin, and after that, he wordlessly began dabbing the dried blood off of Finland's face. Estonia worked with great care and gentleness - something Finland hadn't expected from Estonia in the moment, given everything that'd happened that day. He wiped the blood that had smeared Finland's chin and left cheek. He stitched his eyebrow with great care. When he was finished, he made sure to disinfect every single tiny mark on his love's face. When Estonia finished Estonia once again went about cleaning up the mess he'd made, as well as sanitizing it. Finland opened his mouth to speak, but as though Estonia could read his mind, he glanced over at Finland, giving him the iciest stare he'd ever seen from him. Finland closed his mouth and looked away."I'm sorry," Finland murmured. A few moments passed in silence before Estonia paused what he was doing.
He looked at Finland and then looked back at the first aid kit's contents, which were scattered across the table. He leaned on his palms, which were firmly pressed against the wood surface. "You should be," He said, finally looking at Finland.
"Well I am," Finland said with a little more strength. "But what else was I supposed to do?"
"Tell him to shut up, maybe? Try to resolve the issue with words before resorting to violence? What do you mean what were you supposed to do?"
"I didn't see you doing anything to shut him up! You should be sorry too!"
"If you think I'm not guilty over that, you're sorely mistaken, Finland. I didn't have time to put America down before you leapt at his damn throat!" Estonia snapped.
"Bullshit!" Finland retorted, standing so suddenly that his chair tipped and crashed to the floor behind him. "That's bullshit and you know it! America went on for minutes before I did anything! Why didn't you say something?"
"I didn't realize you were paying any attention to him!"
"That shouldn't matter!" Finland growled. "He was making fun of people like me when he doesn't have any goddamn idea how fucking hard it is to deal with the shit I deal with!" By this point, Finland was roaring with rage. "And you know exactly how hard it's been these past few decades, with my transition, my mental health, and all that crap! And you didn't say anything to stop him!"
At that, Estonia fell silent. He had no response to that. It was true, America had been making jokes about all kinds of very sensitive topics - but that was… That was just America. He was insensitive by nature. He thought Finland knew that. In that moment, Estonia had been torn between defending Finland and maintaining his political relationship with America. After everything that'd happened, guilt weighed heavy on his mind. It was true, he hadn't defended Finland. "That doesn't excuse what you did, Finland. I know I'm not innocent."
"Estonia, do you honestly think I'm proud of beating the hell out of America? If you do, you're wrong. I'm mad about it, mad at myself about it! I hardly know what even happened, I blacked out for most of it!" Finland snapped.
There was silence for a long while. Neither moved, neither said a word. Estonia shook his head and went to leave. He walked past Finland, tipped the fallen chair back onto all fours, snatched his coat, and walked out the back door.
It's cold for a summer night, Estonia thought as he walked. He huffed deeply as he walked. He stuffed one hand in his coat pocket, and ran the other through his hair. He hadn't wanted to fight with Finland, but he didn't know what else to do in the moment. Did Finland not know that he was sorry? He was guilty about not defending him, for not telling America to shut the hell up when he had the chance. Finland would be angry with him for days, maybe even a week or two. He didn't take things like this lightly, nor did Estonia expect him to. Estonia knew that Finland had so much to fight against. Things had been difficult for Finland… It really wasn't that much to ask for, Estonia's willingness to stand up for Finland, in fact, it was the bare minimum that Finland deserved. Estonia stopped. You're a goddamn idiot, you know that? He asked himself. He looked back toward the house. The porch light was on, but it flickered. Had Finland broken into the vodka yet?
Reluctantly, Estonia turned back to the house and returned to Finland. He went up to the front door, but already it had been locked. Estonia sighed and dug through his pocket for the key. When he finally fished it out, he unlocked the door and walked into the house. And, yep, just as Estonia guessed, there Finland was, vodka on the table, glass out in front of him. "That was quick," Estonia said softly. Finland didn't look at him for a moment. When he did, he looked at Estonia the same way Estonia had looked at Finland earlier. Slowly, Estonia stepped further into the house, stripped off his coat, and walked over to Finland. "Can I join you?"
Finland looked back at the bottle on the table. There was a beat of silence. Then Finland nodded. Sheepishly, Estonia pulled out a chair and sat down. He didn't exactly know what to say, but he felt that him even coming back that night meant a lot to Finland. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He wrung his hands and looked down at them. "Finland," Estonia started. He looked up at Finland, who was still very clearly upset. "I'm sorry,"
"You should be," Finland said with a sneer.
"I know. And I am," Estonia looked Finland in the eye. He opened his mouth to speak, but there were so many thoughts swimming around in his head - he didn't know which one to say. "I-" He paused for a moment. "I want to do right by you… And I know that I didn't today. I know, and it hurts me so much - knowing that I certainly didn't do the right thing for you, when I easily could have." Estonia looked up from his hands and up at Finland. Finland's face was unreadable. "I will do better for you next time. There is no try. I will." Estonia watched as Finland's face softened.
Finland nodded and blinked slowly. "Okay, then." Finland said. "Do better next time. I know you can. You're smart, figure it out." And with that, Finland stood up, took the vodka bottle, and left Estonia alone.