I'm definitely continuing with this now, along with my other EstLiet stories. I've changed my mind about the plotline though; it will be in chronological order and there will be no proper Soviet flashbacks. Instead I will be writing another EstLiet fic set during Soviet times. As for this chapter, well, I apologise in advance for anything that I need to. This is all from Estonia's pov, as Lithuania is asleep. Anyway, enjoy.

When Estonia woke, it was still dark. The moon from earlier in the night had become concealed by the clouds, but the sky was lit up with an array of stars. As his eyes adjusted to the light, and his body slowly woke up, he felt the arms wrapped tightly around him; the warm body pressed up against his. Lithuania was still lying beside him, taken away by a deep and unburdened sleep.

No dreams had come to Estonia that night; for the first time in months, his mind had finally been at rest. However, the knowledge that the nightmares would return haunted him.

Estonia pushed his negative feelings to the back of his mind. Lithuania was beside him, and they had each other to hold on to. Everything would be alright.

Carefully he unlatched his own arms from around Lithuania, muttering a silent apology and kissing the other softly on the forehead. In answer, his sleeping partner gave a pathetic moan and pulled himself towards the nation. Estonia wanted to stay and hold Lithuania close to him for longer, but the guilt that he felt for allowing Lithuania to sleep on the floor in the first place far outweighed the wants of the sleeping nation.

As Estonia sat up, he felt for the first time the dull ache that came from spending the night on the floor, realising that he had been right to want to move Lithuania. Having relocated his glasses, he turned straight away to his sleeping companion, surveying him with a kind of lethargic fondness. Estonia allowed himself the moment to capture the peaceful, uninhibited expression on Lithuania's face, knowing that he wouldn't be allowed to see it again anytime soon.

On glancing up quickly at the clock, Estonia discovered that it was barely four o'clock in the morning, meaning that he would have time to move the two of them onto Lithuania's bed and then to go back to sleep again beside his love.

The nation examined his sleeping companion, planning how best to pick him up without waking him; hoping that he would have the strength to do so. He bent down, wrapping his arms around the drowsy nation and raising him slowly from the ground. He hoped inwardly that Lithuania wouldn't mind being carried in that way. Personally, Estonia himself would have minded, but with Lithuania you couldn't tell those sorts of things. It seemed to Estonia that there wasn't much the nation couldn't tolerate, save living with Russia.

It had been such a cruel twist of fate that Lithuania had ended up under Russia's control. Of all the nations that could have ended up in the situation, Lithuania deserved better. Lithuania was the bravest, most selfless person that Estonia knew, and all that the universe had given him in return for his kindness had been pain. Estonia had decided to change that. Lithuania needed and deserved love; everything about him cried out for respect and honour, yet he had received nothing. Estonia would have to tell Lithuania again and again that he deserved better than anything that the universe could provide for him.

Lithuania curled against Estonia as he was carried, and Estonia's arms kept him warm and safe.

Estonia was a little shocked at how light Lithuania was. He had expected to struggle carrying the still impossibly strong nation, but had found lifting him as easy as lifting a pillow. It was true that Lithuania had lost weight living with Russia; through worrying and an acute lack of decent food, but Estonia thought that he should've put on at least some weight during the previous few years.

Straight away worries for the other nation came to him. He'd assumed when he came that Lithuania was deeply unhappy, but it hadn't occurred to him that the nation might be depressed. Thinking about it, the fact seemed obvious. He himself had had to counter depression and get to his feet after they had established their independence, and had only just got through it. He'd had the help of people such as Finland and Latvia to see him through, along with his own interest in technology. Until Estonia had arrived, Lithuania had had no-one to force him to get over things. There was Poland, and there was America, but America was in love with England and Poland only cared about himself. Lithuania deserved better than them, and Estonia was determined to try to give him better.

Estonia would see to it that Lithuania got through his depression. He would also make sure that Lithuania ate properly, even if it meant cooking food for the nation that he himself hated. He'd also have to make sure that Lithuania was sleeping enough and not working too hard; when he'd come, Lithuania had been in the middle of work at a time when he should have been asleep. Estonia made a mental note to himself to call Lithuania's boss and tell him* to stop giving the nation so much paperwork.

Estonia eventually reached the staircase, remembering the last time that he had walked with Lithuania up a similar one.

Lithuania would be propped up on Estonia's arm. His shirt would be stained with blood from one of Russia's vicious whippings and it would be painful for him to stand. He would lean on Estonia's arm as they made their way up the stairs; Estonia hurting on the inside as badly as Lithuania was hurting on the outside. Their struggle was symbolic of the distance that they had come.

When Estonia had carried Lithuania to the top of Lithuania's own staircase in the nation's own home, and had finished remembering the staircase that they used to climb, he scanned the landing for Lithuania's bedroom. It didn't take him long to locate it, and to lay Lithuania down on his bed on top of crisp sheets. He realised that they were still dressed, so slowly began to remove their outer layers of clothing. For the second time, he was hesitant to act without Lithuania's direct permission.

When he had finished making Lithuania as comfortable as possible, Estonia wrapped the nation in blankets. He stopped to look closely at Lithuania, feeling all too familiar emotions. The pure love of too many lifetimes, and the desperate want that came with it. He felt detached from the sleeping person; afraid of being rejected. It was as if he was once again separated from Lithuania.

He knew that his next move should be to slip in beside Lithuania and hold him close, but he felt hesitant to do so. His mind was being controlled by his memories and painful emotions. For a moment, the room became silent; Lithuania somewhere far away, and Estonia absorbed in his own emotional turmoil.

Fortunately, Lithuania wasn't completely asleep, so was able to feel the temperature of the bed, and the lack of loving companionship.

"Estija?"

Lithuania called out Estonia's name in his native tongue, and Estonia was at once by his side, snapping out of his confusion. He quickly slipped below the covers, taking hold of Lithuania as if he would never let him go.

"I'm so sorry, Leedu. I promise that I'll never leave you, or reject you, again. I love you. Remember that. I never left you; I never wanted to."

Estonia was almost crying aloud in his desperation to show the nation in his arms how much he cared.

"I'm sorry for holding back; for worrying that you wouldn't want me."

Estonia had no idea whether Lithuania was alert enough to hear him or to understand him, but it didn't matter to him. All he wanted was to tell the nation how he felt. Deep within him was the unspoken fear that Lithuania didn't love him, but also within him was the determination that he would make Lithuania love him.

It seemed suddenly strange to him that he had doubts of Lithuania's love, as the nation in question had his face pressed against Estonia's chest and his arms around Estonia's neck, grasping tightly; almost tight enough to hurt, but not quite.

It would be hard for Estonia to be there for Lithuania. He had his own problems to deal with, and while Lithuania's very presence seemed to solve all of his problems, there were things that Estonia would try to conceal from Lithuania. Not only his own physical scars, but his mental ones as well. Estonia didn't want Lithuania to know that it wasn't him holding the two of them together.

He remembered Lithuania's comment,

'I used to be so strong.'

You were always strong. You still are. Despite the fact that you are consumed by depression, the fact that you are still here; that you never stopped going, is beyond my own comprehension.

Estonia stopped to examine Lithuania's scarred, damaged body, feeling a pain for him that couldn't be explained in words.

Russia took everything from you; your confidence, your pride, your strength, your home. I wish that I could give everything back to you, but I can only try.

I owe more to you than I can describe; in terms of you taking abuse for me, and in helping me to get through. Who was there to pull you through; all of those years? No-one, yet you still made it. Please help me to get through this along with you.

He reached up to softly caress Lithuania's face. He loved the feeling of the other nation's skin brushing against his own. The craving for closeness was all-consuming.

He kissed the other lightly on the nose, pressing his lips against the cheek which he had been stroking. He remembered how Lithuania often had cuts on his face; courtesy of Russia. Some of them had been very deep; if Lithuania hadn't had been a nation, they would probably have left a permanent mark. It had been Estonia's responsibility to clean them for him. Lithuania had never complained while Estonia did so.

Thin fingers parted the hair covering Lithuania's face, threading through the intricate strands, getting a feel for the soft, smooth texture. Estonia recognised the feel of Lithuania's hair; he had used to stroke it on those dreadful nights when Lithuania's world was darkened with pain, and everything became out of control.

You used to take care of my injuries too, when you were unable to prevent me from getting them. That's how come I know that it hurt you to be healed, because it hurt me. You used to be very gentle. I was always as gentle as I possibly could be, even though I know that sometimes you had to force yourself to stop from screaming in pain.

Everything would be ok. It was all over. He no longer had to torment himself by reliving those times.

Estonia pulled the other nation closer, kissing him lovingly. All would be well.

Sleep claimed him once more.

Thank you for reading. I'm sorry that it was so long. Also, you should all write EstLiet. Do it.

I will hopefully get round to updating my other stories in about a week; I was able to update this now that 'Love Simulations' is out of the way.

*This fic is set about three years after the fall of the Soviet Union, so we can assume that Lithuania's boss is male.