A.N. /Oh cheese, I'm just now getting around to writing this… I'm so sorry it's so short.../

Gilbert looked around at the tiles on the shower wall. He held himself tightly in his arms as he remembered the old Ivan, the cruel Ivan.

He woke up in a strange and cold room, bound by chains to the wall. His body was freezing and he watched as blood dripped on his hand from his head. His eyes darted to the door as he heard it open. Ivan stood there, a sadistic smile plastered on his face, pipe in hand. Blood was splattered across it, Gilbert had no denial of it being his blood on the pipe; Ivan had to have knocked him out one way or another.

"Well, well, black eagle of the east. How've you been?"

Gilbert spat out blood that had filled his mouth, "Fuck you!"

Ivan chuckled with child-like enthusiasm, "Don't speak such language to your master. I have the upper hand now, my dear."

Gilbert tried lunging at him, only to be pulled back roughly to the ground by the chains, "SHUT UP!"

Ivan dropped the pipe to the side, "You still refuse to hold that tongue of yours. Someone might just come along and slice off that tongue." He knelt before the angry Prussian, "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we."

Ivan gently cupped Gilbert's chin and lifted it, "My poor Gilly." He kissed Gilbert's lips. Gilbert protested by pulling on the chains and screaming into the kiss. The kiss was filled with all the love Ivan could muster. Gilbert added hatred and legitimate fear. A small amount, but fear none the less.

Finally, Ivan pulled back and looked at him with awe, "You're beautiful… and you're all mine."

Gilbert angrily spat at him again, "I'm not yours and I never will be!"

Ivan then said something that stayed with Gilbert for a while, "I will make you mine one way or another."

"Where have you gotten to?" Gilbert heard Ivan say these words from outside the bathroom. He quickly dried off and got into his clean clothes. He stepped out of the bathroom and into the hall, walking to where he presumed Ivan was by the direction of the voice. What he saw surprised him, and also terrified him. Ivan was standing there, Gilbert's diary in hand. The Russian looked up from the pages, "Is this… true?"

Gilbert eyes darted down to the diary and tried to snatch it away, "What are you doing reading my personal diary!?"

Ivan pulled back and threw the diary before them both, "Is this true!?"

Gilbert was suddenly very angry that the other had been rummaging through his stuff, but the guilt overwhelmed his emotions, just directing the hate toward himself. "Why does it matter? It's my stuff! You shouldn't have been going through my things!"

Ivan clenched his jaw, "Oh, I'm sorry for trying to move your bags for you!"

Gilbert picked up his diary and held it to his chest, "You're making it seem like I'm the bad one here!"

Ivan spoke calmly, in a way that would seem as though he wasn't hurt, even though he could feel his heart screaming in pain, "Yes, because you're completely innocent, Prussia," the way he said 'Prussia' was harsh, almost mockingly, "I'm the one who played with your heart. I'm the one who made you think that you were actually loved by someone you in turn have loved for a long time. I'm the one who hurt you. I'm the one who used you." By this point, the Russian was in tears. He pushed past the albino and stomped out of his house, leaving the German with the pain of loneliness and guilt.

He didn't know where he was headed to, but he continued to walk as if the distance would make everything all better. He found himself nearing a bar which he spent many lonely nights in. He entered, knowing he was very much welcome. He was pretty good friends with the bar tender, despite her being a human. Ivan knew that it was risky for his wellbeing to become friends with someone that wasn't immortal like himself, seeing as how he'd have to deal with her death sooner or later.

She greeted him warmly and smiled as he made his way to the bar, "Same thing as always?"

He shook his head, "I don't think it'd be a good idea for me to drink right now, Anna. I'll just wake up with a hangover and everything will be that much worse."

The corners of her lips lowered and she leaned over the bar, "Something wrong?"

Ivan chuckled a bit, "Isn't something always wrong when I'm in here?"

She looked at him like a caring mom would look at her son. Barely thirty and that's what she reminded Ivan of all the time. This wasn't the first time she had looked at him that way, again, most times he went into the bar he was depressed and needed a few drinks to calm himself down.

Each time he woke up alone and with a hangover. He found this a reoccurring problem so he tried to limit the drinks, to no avail however.

Anna rested her hands upon his and looked into his violet eyes, "Come on, you can tell me, Ivan."

He looked into her eyes and then down at their hands, "I've been used."

She rubbed her thumb across his knuckles to comfort him, "We've all been used, Ivan. Hell, even me. It's all a part of life. But it makes me wonder why we even try. I mean, we're all going to end up dead and in the ground so what's the point? Even if we have someone to be buried next to it won't make a difference because that's all we'll be is dead."

Oh, how wrong she could've been. Ivan had no doubt in his mind that one day everything would end, even his and the other countries lives. But there was no way of telling when that would happen. Love was meant to be fought for, not given up on. He could understand why Anna would say this, but she just couldn't understand how vital this was for Ivan.

Not only was he used, but he could die from the product of it. If one of the greatest militaries came back into power with the biggest piece of land then there was no telling where he'd be. He could die just from his country being taken away from him.

"Anna, you're making it worse," his voice trailed off. Although he knew she was trying to help, it really was just making everything worse for him. He didn't want any of that sappy shit that it would all get better but he also didn't want to be told that everything was meaningless.

Anna wasn't taken aback by this statement as if she had expected it, "I know but there's really nothing else to say. You could try moving on and being with another person but that won't change how you feel now. Tell me, did you love them?"

Ivan scoffed, "Love? That's an understatement. Just take it this way. He was my childhood love! We never really got along when we were younger but they told me they loved me, that they wanted me. I don't know what to do. I really don't."

Anna bit her lip and turned her attention toward the other's face, "There are other people who would be happy with you. You deserve better. Just forget this person."

He looked back up to her face, "What do you mean?"

Gilbert paced in the room he shared with Ivan, "I just have to tell him! I have to tell him about this whole damn plan and hope he believes me!" He looked into a standing mirror in front of him, "Yeah. He'll believe me. After I told him I loved him and he finds this fucking-" He glared down at the diary he'd thrown on the bed.

He grabbed it and started tearing page by page. He threw the loose pages and cover to the ground, screaming as he just kept tearing. All the diaries he had brought with him to Russia now lay strewn about the room in a scatter of pages.

By the time he was done, he was a panting and screaming mess. He fell to his knees in a fit of tears, "Why did I do this!? The first person I love and I do this to them! I'm a fucking piece of shit! I'm not awesome! I'm an asshole!" He turned his attention to the mirror and punched it with all the strength he could muster. Glass shards pierced the skin between and around his knuckles. Blood dripped from his hand and onto the carpet. When the rush of adrenaline fell, he could feel the pain, "FUCK!"

Ivan held Anna's hand and opened the door to his mansion, he led her to his bedroom only to find the German on the floor crying and screaming. The mess was unimaginable. There were pages scattered everywhere and a mess of glass and blood was splattered on the floor. This left Ivan speechless.

Gilbert looked at Ivan. Ivan looked back. The atmosphere turned awkward, Anna was still holding onto the Russian's hand.

Gilbert sucked up the pain and got up, his hand still bloody. It dripped as he pushed past the other and rushed down the hallway.

Ivan lowered his head, "Anna, get out."

She obediently followed his command and left, not saying a word.

Ivan stared at the floor and bloodstains. Was this what it had come to?

Gilbert slammed the bathroom door behind him and immediately rinsed his hand in cold water, trying to get all of the shards out of his fist. He opened the cabinet and found some gauze which he used to wrap his hand. He slid down the wall, what was going to happen?

He heard footsteps rushing down the hall. It terrified him that the other was coming his way. He thought he might become the man he once was when the wall was first put up.

Ivan opened the door, trying to avoid eye contact with the albino who was still sitting in fetal position against the wall, "I want you to go back to Germany. I don't care where you sleep tonight. I'm buying you a plane ticket tomorrow. You are to never speak to me again, do you hear me?"

Gilbert looked at him, "Ivan, I can explain!"

Ivan finally made eye contact with the other, "There's nothing to say. Your diary said it all."

"But I love you! I didn't mean for this to happen. It was all a mistake. I actually love you! That was my plan at first but I really love you! Believe me!"

Ivan spoke calmly, "Bullshit. Get your things packed."

"Ivan! I love you! Don't do this! Nobody loves you like I do!" Gilbert was in a panic.

Ivan started walking away, "And nobody loves you at all; nobody but your fucking reflection. And we already saw what you did to that."

Gilbert's mouth gaped open, did he really just say that?