Lithuania had never particularly liked guns.
He also didn't fancy swords, bayonets, cannons, or other wartime tools.
He especially didn't like the prospect of sending soldiers to die over what would likely be… No, don't think about that.
But what he hated was how everything brought back some kind of memory he shared with Feliks.
Despite himself, he wished that Poland could just surrender. Of course, Russia and Germany were acting crazed with some kind of bloodlust, which bothered him. They were prepared for a fight and a fight they would have, whether Poland surrendered or not.
But he knew that there would be no such surrender until Poland was quite nearly dead. And even then, knowing Feliks, there was still no guarantee. He frowned. Sometimes, Poland needed to understand when to cut his losses and submit.
He shook his head. Lithuania was a subordinate. It wasn't his fault, it really wasn't.
Even though Poland was being ravaged by Germany…
Even though he had left his best friend…
Even though he had betrayed him…
His memory cut back to the First World War. That was Germany's fault. Germany had tricked him into annexation, tricked him, tricked him, tricked him! He had been fooled too many times.
The scars on his back—they weren't entirely Russia's fault, he knew. Russia chose different methods, methods that left less of a trace, but hurt him. As a matter of fact, only one he was aware of had been inflicted by Russia, when he had fallen and broken a tea service.
The hurt came.
It always came.
Lithuania liked to think Russia didn't mean to hurt him the way he did. He liked to think Russia was just so messed up that he didn't understand the concept of 'no,' and that he didn't have a problem with pain…
And yet, when he awoke again in Russia's room, he did not think Russia was there to help him.
He assessed the situation. Waking up in Russia's room with no knowledge of recent happenings was neither unusual nor unexpected from time to time, but this position was rather odd, to say the least.
"Welcome, comrade. You have already managed to harm yourself."
That would explain the throbbing pain in his head.
That would not explain why Russia was straddling his chest. He knew better than to squirm, despite what his instinct screamed at him to do.
"What have you done?"
Russia sharply jabbed the side of Lithuania's head where he had hurt it.
"You make me wonder… have you ever felt pain?" Lithuania challenged.
Russia averted his eyes. That was unexpected. He'd have to remember that one.
"More than you can possibly imagine."
Somewhere, in the back of Lithuania's mind, he believed him.