Obsession

A Hetalia Story

Chapter Seven: Nightmares

The officer is stunned. He remembers the report of the Rebels hit-and-run because he had been on the case, but he didn't realize this man was involved. Had the signs been there, and the police just missed it?

"He ran over you…?"

"The whole team." Toris corrects, his clenched fist pressed against the wall to keep him from slipping to his knees. "He didn't even give us a chance to run. He ran over all of us. Some worse than others."

The cop could imagine. The more things hit, the lesser the momentum, and the higher the likelihood no damage would be caused at all.

"Why?"

Something drips onto the floor, and the man knows it isn't the leaky ceiling.

"He was angry. He was so angry. I should've went, I told myself I had to go, but when I actually was faced with bringing my friends I still couldn't go through with it." Toris speaks through his tears, his bottom lip trembling.

"You can't blame yourself." The cop never pities who he interrogates, but something about this case makes a horrible sense of self-consciousness pass over him. How he can he sit here heartless, and act like Ivan had done to this poor boy. He needs a little break from the subject.

"Can you… tell me about your home?" Toris's head perks at this. "Your home in Lithuania?"

"It wasS just my mom and I for a long time…" The strange man begins, trying to use his own legs as support instead of the wall. "We lived by a creek. An old willow tree used to dangle over it. I would run and grab hold of a branch and swing until it broke and tossed me into the water."

This amuses the cop. "All I had was an old slip-n-slide."

"It was my oasis. I couldn't ask for anything better." Toris admits. "But those were the good days."

"Did you leave that house?"

He nods. "We did. My mother remarried an Estonia and we moved to the cities. I hated it. I liked the insolation of the cottage, but in the city it was so noisy…"

The officer folds his hands in his lap. "So why did you move to America? Not exactly the quaint get-away."

Wiping his eyes softly, Toris turns his whole body toward him. "That wasn't my choice." He pulls the chair out some more, so he could sit in it and not put his knees beneath the table. "That's when my mother married a Latvian business man and he moved to America to get his son the care he needed."

"His son?" The officer scratches his head. "You mean your youngest brother."

"Yes."

"Why did he need care?"

Toris fidgets a little in his seat, but he concedes to the question after a moments thinking. "My brother has a severe case of dwarfism. He wanted some kind of magic surgery that could make him grow normally but there was little the doctor's really could do."

The police man nods his head. That is reasonable; and it seems to have eased some tension from him. Time to get back to the nitty gritty.

"Anyway…" The cop clicks his pen on the table to be able to write with it, looking up at the strange man with his utensil poised at the ready. "Please, continue your story. What happened after you lost consciousness?"

Toris doesn't hesitate. "I was asleep for a long time I think…"

And when Toris eventually woke up, it was not to the stiff cement of the parking lot, but of the woolen fabric on a bed, and not to the voice of his friends, but of one projected by the TV.

"This is Sammy Main." A woman speaks, causing Toris's eyes to crack a little. A searing white light punctures them, and he shuts them quickly again.

"And this is Thomas Putnam, and welcome to News 9. Today we have a breaking report." A man explains, shuffling his papers around to find the correct story.

"Most of you die hard hockey fans were pretty angry to hear that the rivalry game between the Rebels and the Canadian Maple Leaves was expectantly canceled." Sammy's voice strikes a chord in Toris.

They had to cancel the game…? That isn't good.

"But there was actually a pretty good reason behind it." The newswoman couldn't let her counterpart get the juicy information. Instead, she cuts across his sentence before he can speak.

"The Rebels were involved in a hit and run incident—and get this—they weren't in a car."

"An unknown male sped out of the parking lot last night after attempting to run over the players." Thomas mentions, but Sammy is more eager to continue.

"But this attempt left most of the players hospitalized overnight. Security cameras are unable to identify the vehicle used, and police are currently investigating who could be responsible."

Ivan! It's Ivan Braginsky! Toris's jaw remains clenched, although he desperately wants to shout at the top of his lungs. He forces his eyes open again, fixating his gaze on the cherry blond who cares more about her on air time then what she is actually saying.

Don't you realize it? This is serious! My stalker tried to kill us! His communication is suddenly disrupted when the TV is turned off. Feeling disconnected from his body, the manager only moves his eyes, catching the flicker of colors to his left. Eduard is sitting in chair at his bedside, his hands crossed over his chest and his eyes firm on Toris. They must be in a hospital. Eduard was always uncomfortable in hospitals.

"Eduard…" Trying to get a better look, the Lithuanian digs his fingers into the covers and tries to pull himself to a sitting position unsuccessfully. Scowling at his brother, Eduard stand up and presses a hand against his back. The manager smiles graciously at him, but his brother only purses his lips.

"Can you hurry up and get better." Toris is stunned to hear his little brother speak. "I have an English essay due in a few days and I'd like to work on it."

Did he not realize what happened? That Toris could have died.

What is going on Eduard… he wonders, his eyes tracing the lines of his brother's face. He harshly pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You know it's hard to keep good grades. I would hate to struggle more.

The Lithuanian couldn't bear to him talk like that. His heart is already sinking the more he gets his bearings. Were the others okay? And Raivis, is someone taking care of Raivis? And where is Ivan Braginsky right now.

"Eduard… What happened to the team…?"

Eduard rolls his eyes and shrugs. "Like I would know. I don't care. The only reason I came is because they said someone had to check out with you." He scratches his chin thoughtful. Toris expects he'll say something encouraging and hopeful, but he gets something quite the opposite.

"I'm hungry."

Toris couldn't comprehend what is happening to his baby brother. Something is turning inside of him, and the manager could only cling to memories of a bright child who built things to impress his older brother. Was this a result of all his failures up to this point? He would never know. Eduard would never talk.

The door opens, and the Lithuanian's heart jumps, praying it is Alfred or someone from the team and begging it isn't Ivan, but it happens to be neither; and the manager heart aches stiffly.

"Maybe next time you can stay longer." It is a nurse, her short blond hair tucked beneath her cap, and one pale hand wrapped around Raivis. Her name tag read Jeanne. "Then I can pull out the really cool toys."

Raivis seems amazed. "Really?"

Jeanne winks. "Only for you."

A tiny dosage of relief swells Toris's veins. At least someone had the mind to take care of Raivis. That is something he can mark off his check list.

"Okay Toris." Jeanne adverts her attention to the patient, extending her pale hands to him. "Let's see about you standing."

The manager removes the barrier of blankets before taking her hands, allowing her to smoothly guide him onto his own two feet. He is bubbling with questions she would have the answer to, but he decides to suppress them until she is done.

"Do you feel wobbly or light headed?" She asks, shinning a flashlight in Toris's eyes, making them water.

"No ma'am."

She smiles victoriously, as if she is proud she successfully took care of another patient. "That's great. You're discharged whenever you feel up to it. Be careful out there and drink plenty of fluids."

She collects his information from the bedside, turning off a few of the machines. Now is his chance.

"Um... ma'am..?" Jeanne looks at him, holding the folders to her chest. "I was brought in with the hockey team… they're my friends… are they alright?"

The women's lips sink, and Toris knows they are deviating from frowning or staying neutral. A coil of dread weaves inside of Toris, the sinking feeling of his heart only adding to the fact that Toris feels like he will start floating to the ceiling.

"That's support to be confidential…" Toris pleads with his eyes, and it seems to work. "But I'll tell you."

"Thank you…"

Her mouth twitches into a grimace. He shouldn't be thankful for what she is about to say.

"Mathias KØhler and Gilbert Beilschmidt are both still in critical condition and are in the ICU." The manager had been expecting that. They had been the first to be hit by Ivan.

"And the others…?"

Her face lowers. "Most of them escaped with cuts and bruises, but here is one casualty."

Toris feels his legs wobble, his entire being threatening to collapse in on itself. Someone is dead. Someone is dead because of him, because he didn't go with Ivan like he should of. His memory snaps to the pair of glasses he felt before he lost consciousness. Oh God.

"Tori…?" Raivis asks softly, but his voice goes unheard. The manager is wholly pinned on Jeanne.

His voice is wavering, his body swaying with it, but he tries to make it firm. "Is… it Alfred…?"

Toris could barely see her nod her head before his body is on the floor, shutting down his brain so he didn't dwell, didn't think, trying to prevent injury on its self. Jeanne kneels by his side quickly, her fingers on his pulse.

"Toris are you okay?" She questions, receiving no response. "Raivis dear, can you go get the doctor down the hall—"

"No."

Jeanne looks bewildered at Eduard, who clamps a hand on Raivis's shoulder to keep him from leaving. "He's fine. He does this all the time because he's weak. Get up Toris."

Under autopilot, the Lithuanian obeys, and slowly gets to his feet. There is no feeling present; just a sense of patience as he waits for the next command.

"Are you sure?" Jeanne tries to talk him out of it. "Maybe I should check his blood pressure—"

"I'm hungry." Eduard snaps. "We are going home."

There isn't anything the nurse could say to protest it. Guiding his brother by the arm like a lamb lead to the slaughter, the Estonian goes to the front desk to sign his brother out, but Toris couldn't comprehend it. His mind stopped processing all together, something that makes Raivis quiver every time he looks up at that blank expression. He is defiantly scared now.

"We're all ready to go." Eduard returns, but Raivis just stares at him, his eyes close to watering. Scoffing, he harshly asks. "What?"

"Is Tori going to be alright..?" He whimpers, a few of the tears escaping. The middle brother gives a shrug before latching onto the manager's arm again.

They walk home in silence, Raivis scurrying to keep up, Toris sluggishly computing that his legs are moving forward. Eduard unlocks the door and pushes the manager inside, letting Raivis lock the door behind them.

"I'm taking a shower." The middle brother declares, giving his older sibling another hard shove to the kitchen. "Raivis and I are hungry. Go make us something."

With that he goes to the bathroom and locks himself inside, leaving Raivis to watch his brother wearily as he walks to the kitchen, bumping against the counters like a zombie who didn't know better. Creeping over to a chair, afraid if he make any sound it would snap him from his phase, he climbs onto it and then the counter, shuffling on his hands and knees closer to the stove so he could watch Toris.

The Lithuanian is trying hard not to think, but the more he tries to suppress the thoughts, the more images it would create, and all of them are about Alfred. Hastily, he turns on the stove; but his inconsideration causes him to turn the faulty burner on, and with a click a spark ignites and prances on the counter top.

Raivis squeaks and falls back, swatting the flames away, but Toris doesn't even move at the smell of smoke.

"Tori!" Raivis cries, but he has to act alone. Opening an overhead cabinet, he finds the box of baking soda, and remembering how his brother once put out a fire, doses the flame until the whole box is empty and he is trembling.

"Tori... Tori please wake up…" Toris doesn't hear him.

Fat tears begin to run down Raivis's face. He doesn't like having two brothers that weren't the same anymore. It scares him so bad.

When the doorbell rings, he squeaks again, and clutches the baking soda box to his chest. Neither Toris nor Eduard stir to answer the door, so poor Raivis has to muster the courage to approach it on his own, using the box as a shield to ward off any enemies.

"Raivis?"

The youngest brother wipes his tears away and jumps on the newcomer's leg, hugging it so tightly he could have broken it off. This man is good. This man could help fix Toris. This man was at the party.

"Feliks fix Tori!" Raivis tugs at his shirt, pointing to kitchen. Toris's eyes are fixated on the scorch marks.

Feliks pushes his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. "What's wrong with Toris?"

"He's not Tori anymore!"

Gently patting Raivis's head, Feliks walks inside, sitting his bag down at the door way. "Toris?"

It is like he didn't even hear his voice. Frowning, Feliks hops onto one of the seats at the bar, plopping his head to rest in his hands. He wouldn't be ignored.

"Toris~!" He coos, but he doesn't even blush like he normally would. Something is defiantly wrong.

"Raivis what happened at the hospital?" Raivis scuffles over to his side, craning his neck to look up at him.

"Miss Jeanne told him that Alfred died—"

At the sound of the name, Toris's cracks. At first, he screams. Then, the tears fall heavily as he ends up on his knees, damning God and Ivan when his breath would allow. Scared breathless, Raivis nearly faints, but Feliks manages to keep him standing before he rushes over to Toris's side.

"It's all my fault! It's all my fault!" Toris could feel the scars stretching across his heart. Ivan was there for him. Only him. Yet he barely had a scratch on him and Alfred was dead!

The blond raps his arms around his torso. "It's okay…. It's not our fault…"

But didn't Feliks understand? He got his best friend killed! He shouldn't be embracing him, he should be running away.

"No…no no…" The Lithuanian tries to worm his way out of his grasp, but Feliks only tightens it.

"You aren't to blame Toris. This isn't your fault." The manager doesn't believe what he is saying. It had been his fault that Mathias was injured; now is no different. He is completely responsible for this. He should've went. He should've went.

"I should've went—" Toris tries to explain, but he sees a live fire in Feliks eyes; just like when Alfred got serious. His cries worsen.

"Alfred got himself killed okay." The manager's chest gives a painful lurch at the direct mention of his name. "He pushed you down and protected you. He got himself killed. He didn't have to do that. But he wanted to protect you."

For a moment, the Lithuanian stops crying, letting his breath return to him. He protected him? He couldn't remember that. Then it dawn on him. He doesn't have a scratch on him. So when he couldn't move his head, it wasn't because he was injured. It was because something was on top of him. That oozing feeling? It had been Alfred's fatal wounds pouring onto him. The very thought nearly makes him retch.

"You don't want Alfred to blame himself in Heaven now do you?" Hiccupping softly, Toris shakes his head no. Feliks gives him a gentle smile, and wipes his tears away.

"Then you know who is to blame? Ivan. Not you. Not Alfred. Ivan is the one who did it. Do you understand?"

Toris would admit, Ivan had been the one to run him over; but he wouldn't have done it if Toris would have went along with what he says.

"Yes…"

Feliks pushes the hair out of the Lithuanian's face, tucking it behind his ear. Something in his heart breaks when he sees Toris desperately clinging to him, fresh tears threatening to spill over. Why is Ivan so cruel?

"I have good news..." The cheerleader says, playing with the manager's hair to help him calm down, but it only serves to make him sleepy.

"What..?"

"Mathias and Gilbert are out of the ICU. They are expected to recover in the next couple of days. Oh and Toris?"

The manager is drifting off the sleep with his words, that he barely manages an 'hm?'

"The others in the team agreed that someone should always be at your house. So starting tonight, there will always be someone here with you.

Just like Alfred had done. Toris's throat tightens. What is Alfred's brother going to say when he found out his brother is dead because of him?

I was supposed to meet him… Maybe he should've just stayed for the game like they originally wanted.

"Who… who's staying over first…?" A few more strokes of his hair and he is teetering close to that edge, too exhausted by his emotional scene to shake it off.

"It'll be me Toris."

It's enough to spin the manager over the edge and into sleep, slumping against Feliks as his body succumbs to the dreams.

Or in Toris's case, the nightmares.

Will Toris find enough strength to continue?

-Soul Spirit-