A/N: Change of writing here! Nothing special, but from now on Russia and America will be called Russia and America only occasionally. It's a much more personal story now.

Also, people have been bugging me about historical inaccuracies. To clear this up: I am aware that Texas was not a state until the 1840's. It became a territory in 1837. This means that during the flashback two chapters ago, Alfred would have had his glasses. I'm also aware of the Russian-American Anti-Colonization Agreement. For my purposes I ignored it (Creative leeway). Finally, the American Civil War did indeed begin in 1861, not 1860, but the Secessionists were active and occasionally violent as early as March 1860. If you have any question about my historical references (or lack thereof) please ask me! :D Enjoy!

Ivan tried to shake Alfred awake, but the blonde merely continued to writhe as if in pain. He whispered comforting words in both Russian and English, then began praying under his breath. Finally, after minutes that seemed like hours, Ivan resorted to holding Alfred tightly to his chest and trying to calm his heartbeat, as if Alfred would calm with it.

"Oh, my love, I wish you could tell me what was wrong," Ivan whispered, holding Alfred close. Silent tears streamed down the American's cheeks. Ivan stared dully at the clock on the nightstand-3:00 AM. He didn't sleep well as it was, but being concerned-even frightened-for his Alfred made sleep a distant impossibility. He reached for the phone at their shared bedside, running through the numbers of his and Alfred's allies. England instantly came to mind. He'd cared for Alfred when he was a child, so surely he'd know how to calm Alfred's nightmares. He dialed quickly and put the phone on speaker, returning his arm to its place around Alfred, who had started shaking slightly. To his surprise he heard a commotion on the other line.

"-No, Francis you bloody-OUCH! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Frog?"

"Answering the telephone, mon Angleterre. Bonjour!"

Ivan was confused. "Er...hello, France. This is Russia, da."

"Ah, mon ami, why are you calling?"

"Is England available, France? I had a rather urgent question for him..."

"Don't bloody talk on the phone right now, you git! I'll call Russia back! Tell him it's not a good t-"

France butted into the middle of England's rant.

"Unfortunatly, mon ami, we are currently making l'amour, and as such, mon Angleterre Arthur is unavailable because his vital regions are being invaded, onhonhonhon!"

Ivan cringed. So that was why England had screamed 'ouch'. "I did not need to know that, France, but thank you. Please to have him call back as soon as possible, da?"

France's voice was smug, though Ivan could still hear England's protests. "Of course, I shall!" He hung up. Ivan felt a little sick, because the LAST thing he wanted to picture was France and England in bed together. Ugh. He thought of who else to call, and at first came up blank. Then he remembered. Alfred had a brother, didn't he? A twin? Canada, yes, that was it. He tried to remember Canada's number, but his mind was blank on the issue.

Ivan's mind drifted to a conversation he'd had with his sister Yekaterina some time ago. It had almost slipped his mind, but he distinctly remembered her saying that many Ukrainians were emigrating to Canada, and she had many Canadians visiting her. He called her immediately, hoping she wasn't yet asleep. To his relief, she answered, sounding slightly sleepy.

"Hello? This is Ukraine." His dear sister still didn't have caller ID. It was an endearing trait of hers, like she wanted to be surprised.

"Sistra, it's me."

"O-oh! Ivan! What is wrong?"

His sister was so good at reading his emotions quickly. A talent of hers.

"It's Alfred. He's having terrible nightmares, I can't wake him up. I was wondering if you knew how to reach his brother-or had any ideas for halting night terrors."

"Oh, Vanya, I'm so sorry! Poor Amerika! I do remember how to reach Matvey, but how is your Fredka?"

"Not well, he has been shaking for the past few minutes. I cannot sleep, I am so worried about him."

"Did you try a cold shower?"

"Da, but he woke only long enough to curl in a corner of the bath."

"What else did you try, brother?"

"Everything, Yekaterina! I tried holding him, water, ice on his forehead, I shook him and I called his name! Sistra, I started praying to God for him to wake, but nothing has worked!"

"Oh my, Ivan. This is terrible! Yes, I will give you his brother's number. Remember it!"

"Say it twice for me please, Sistra?"

She said the number, then repeated it. Ivan thanked her and hung up, then hurriedly dialed Canada's phone number. It rang for almost a minute, which worried the Russian until he remembered that the call had an entire ocean to cross. Finally, it was picked up. The voice on the other line sounded exactly like Alfred's, only softer and with a slight lilt to some of the vowels, along with a hint of a French accent.

"Mm...'allo?"

"Hello, Canada? This is Russia."

"O-oh! H-hello, eh! W-w-what can I do for you?"

"I'm trying to wake up your brother, da. Do you know how to wake him from a nightmare?"

Canada, on the other side of the world, bit his lip. "Uuhm, have you tried singing?"

Ivan was perplexed. "Singing?"

"W-well, whenever we had nightmares, France and England would sing to us. We'd calm down easily, eh. Alfred always liked the more forceful melodies that England would sing. Have you tried that?"

"No, I have not. I shall do that now! Thank you so much, Canada! I will not forget this from you, da!" He hung up. Canada stared at the receiver, brain whirring.

"Will he really remember? And while I'm at it, how did he remember my phone number, eh?"

Ivan stared at the blond man curled next to him. What could he sing? A forceful melody? Russia had no idea. So, he decided to make it up. His voice was soft, but emotion shook every syllable as he began to sing.

"You are like

April sky

Sunrise in your eyes

Child of light,

Shining star

Fire in your heart...

Brightest day,

Melting snow

Breaking through my chill

I'm October, and you're April..."

Alfred stopped shaking, his eyes snapping open. Ivan continued to sing, his voice growing stronger.

"I am like

Frozen skies

On October nights

Darkest cloud, in the storm

Raining from my heart

Coldest snow

Deepest chill

Tearing down the street

I'm October, and you're April."

Ivan fell silent, Alfred's sapphire-blue eyes glistening with leftover tears. They said nothing, simply staring at each other's faces. Ivan pulled his Fredka close, resting his chin on the American's head. He breathed deep, the scent of Alfred filling his nose. Alfred smelled of spring, of warm air and salty ocean, wild lands, impenetrable forests and fire, burning through even the heaviest rain. They stayed like that for several long moments, and finally Alfred pulled back to rub his eyes.

"Vanya..."

"Da?"

"Thank you."

Ivan smiled. "I could not sleep when I knew you were not sleeping well. It is hard for me to see you hurting."

Alfred smiled. "Thank God for that."

Silence reigned again for a moment. Ivan looked at the clock again. By now it was 4:00 in the morning. Ivan moved to turn on the light, planning to get up, dress and go about his customary routine of a cup of tea, a quick workout and then paperwork, but Alfred grabbed his arm, the American's unnatural strength easily halting the movement of Ivan's arm.

"Stay."

"что?

"Sleep in for once. Please?"

Ivan looked down at Alfred. "Okay. I will stay." He settled back into bed, curling an arm around Alfred.

"Goddamn workaholic..." Alfred griped.

"Da, but it is harder for me to keep my country under control than it is for you."

Alfred grinned. "Bullshit. You just don't appreciate my epic paperwork skills."

"Perhaps not, Fredka, but I don't classify handing the work off to an alien skills."

"Don't diss Tony!"

"I'm not."

Alfred puffed his cheeks childishly and blew a stream of air at Ivan. The Russian merely chuckled and gave Alfred peck on the cheek.

"I give you two hours, and then you either let me get up or you tell me what your nightmare was."

Alfred shoved his head into the rook of Ivan's neck, ignoring, as he always did, the scars that scattered on his lover's otherwise pale skin. He did lick one, just to see Ivan's reaction. Predictably, he shuddered and closed his eyes. Alfred was satisfied for the moment, and he curled up in his Vanya's arms.

He dreaded waking up again and telling Ivan about his dreams-his dreams of burning alive.

A/N: Fuck, I'm trying to please you all. I wanted this chapter out now because I spent waay too long on it, yet it's still mediocre. However, it's also a cliffhanger (:D) so hahahaaaa I win! Hope you all liked!

Next Chapter: Fire In My Heart, Tear Me Apart