Over the course of a few months, something very strange began to happen. Belarus would take her time to find Latvia during his chores and question him in hopes of finding out why it was that Ivan spent so much time with him. After all, with Ivan gone for the hours of the day to take care of the politics, she had nothing better to do. She had asked him everything she could think of and most of her questions remained unanswered, but as the interrogation had died down, conversation had taken wing and it had become enjoyable. So much so that Latvia would continue those conversations after his chores were done, putting off his story until Natalia got tired of him.

It was a cold day outside, they'd all congregated in the chairs around the fireplace, and made coffee. Ivan and Toris were late in getting home, and by now Ravis could see that it was bothering Natalia. He walked back in to fill Estonia's cup again and made his way to her side.

"I'm sure they are on their way. They probably just got caught up in airport traffic." She started to glare at him, but with a swift glance to assure that Estonia was engrossed in his coding, she gave the blonde a appreciative look. He grinned and refilled her cup before heading back to the kitchen to put the coffee back on the stove.

Unfortunately, halfway through his journey was the time the door chose to open. Lithuania's back was facing the inside and his shoulders quivered with the fear of the sight just beyond him. Latvia darted into the kitchen, tempted now more than ever to grab a kitchen knife, and hid.

Ivan was a few shots away from being drunk. Drunk, he was often a blabbering mess in his room. Tipsy –as he was now– meant his temper was frayed. Now that Ravis thought about it, Lithuania had been supporting himself with one foot more than the other.

"M-M-Mr. Russia, please-" Lithuania tried in vain to calm the man before he crossed the threshold, but he was beyond help until dehydration took hold.

"LATVIA!" Ravis flinched violently and bit into his lip at the harsh accent given to his name, "Come here." With some hesitation, and a look at Belarus –stiff in her chair from the sight of her dearest– he forced his legs to shuffle from the protection of the wall and into Ivan's line of sight. He almost screamed. Ivan had seen him enter the kitchen and had been on his way to find him anyway, he was now buried in the huge chest. An arm wrapped around his torso, locking his arms in place –one still holding the coffee– and another running a gloved had through his hair. The gloves were coated with vodka and all other sorts of remnants and clung to his hair, pulling his head back.

"Y-yes, Mr. Russia?" He bite his tongue. This man was the last person he wanted to acknowledge, but one often finds that your body will do what it has to to preserve the life inside it, often of it's own accord. Ivan's eyes opened from the drunken squint they held a moment prior, and the sickening shade of violet made Ravis's blood run cold.

He was going to die tonight.

"I have not seen you enough lately. I feel as if I have abandoned you, but I know I would never do that to a comrade. Perhaps it is you. да. It is you. You have abandoned me, dear Ravis." He held the boy painfully tight, a faucet rammed into his spine, forcing the lithe body against Russian muscle that rivaled frozen brick, and purred the words for all to hear.

"I-I-I didn't leave you, Mr. R-Russia." These weren't what he wanted his last words to be.

"Do not stutter my name!" His hair was yanked and he nodded as best he could against the hold.

"Мне очень жаль." Perhaps a little of his own language would soothe the man, and it did for the time being. Ravis's hair was released and he held his chin up as he spoke, "I did not leave you, Mr. Russia. I could never do that." Ivan stared at him for a moment. Ravis wasn't lying. He couldn't leave Russia no matter how badly he wanted to, he valued life, and had no friends to help him keep his if he ever escaped.

There was a blur and a heavy set of fingers collided with his face, rattling his brain to the point that when the metal retracted from his back he fell to his knees without thought. Ivan stood over him, glaring and chuckling in a way completely his. The faucet sliced through the air before it melded with Ravis's back with a dull thud, the kind you felt in your chest, even from another room.

Natalia could be testimony to that fact. She felt the vibrations through the air as her eyes refused to unlock from the sight. Ivan really was beating Latvia. Eventually, he gave up, muttering to the boy that,

"Although you have left me, and called me a liar, I will forgive you." He leaned to ruffle Ravis's hair gently before he padded down the hall, beckoning Lithuania to limp after him, a bruise she had not been able to see now visible to Natalia on his face. He was shaking as he left, sending her a pitiful glance.

Latvia slumped his forehead into the floor with a quivering breath as he got his wind back. He managed to lift himself back to his feet, a grimace on his features as he noted the coffee on the floor from when he'd been cupped in the face. She watched him disappear into the kitchen and return with... a rag.

After all that he was going to clean. She glanced at Estonia, who was frozen in his seat, shaky fingers hovered over the keys. He moved his fingers over the touch pad of the laptop, then lifted himself from the chair and walked away. Natalia sat her cup down on a nearby table and walked over to Latvia was he half-tumbled back to the floor to scrub. She reached for the rag and he drew it back to his chest.

"No. It's fine. I dropped it, I'll clean it." He voice sounded gruff and broken. Now he seemed the age he was. Belarus didn't like being refused in the least. She never offered help, and now that she had she was rejected. It hurt in a way. She was used to it from Ivan –not that that felt any better– but Latvia had become someone she though would always want her company.

Natalia stood and walked behind him into the kitchen.

'Why did I do that? She was being nice. Why did I reject her? These past months... down the drain. Great going, Ravis. Brilliant. You lost the girl. Some main character you are.' He got back to his feet and turned for the kitchen, pausing to note that Natalia was at the table, skimming through his book, before cleaning the cloth and setting it to dry. Latvia trudged over and checked the page she was on.

Heh.

The day he met her.

"Who is Sophia?" She didn't look at him, she didn't want to see the colors his cheek was turning. He laughed breathlessly. How could he laugh now?

"The primary love interest. Michael is in love with her." He explained and she nodded, reading more as he took the seat beside her, dropping his face onto his arms. She looked at him after she reached the end. Sophia was after another man. Michael –the main character– was just following her like a puppy in need of a petting.

The sting in her chest was not like any she'd had in a long time. For some reason she was guilt ridden. Natalia went to get up, but paused at watched Latvia for a moment. Ivan would come to the kitchen with a headache. He would find Ravis and the book. Belarus took the book securely in her hands and leaned closer to the boy.

"Latvia. Latvia?" She felt stupid for talking to him like this. He couldn't even hear her. She reached out to touch his forearm. "Ravis?" She shook him lightly and his head bobbed up.

"Natalia?" She grasped his arm and lead him to his feet.

"Come and go to bed. My brother will be down in the morning." That was all she needed to get him hurrying up the stairs, her in tow. When they arrived at his door, he brought a hand to his forehead.

"I forgot my book. I have to-" She handed him the book and ushered him through his door, standing beside the post herself.

"Get some sleep, tomorrow will come early and I am looking forward to the next installment in your book, Ravis." With those words, she closed the door and he found his way to the bed. His brain didn't give him time to think about the butterflies in his stomach before it shut him down to repair itself.

A/N: I swear I LOVE Russia. I don't like making him the bad guy... really.

I need more ideas for a continuation, for the sake of my soul I cannot leave it like this.

Oh, and the Russian sentence says I'm Sorry.

- RHT