You're my saviour, after all

For once, Denmark had decided to go to a New Year's party. The Netherlands had asked him once, and the other nations had been pestering the cheerful ex-Viking for days. At first, he had rejected. Norway didn't like it too much when he went out for a long time, coming home drunk and waking him up. But the magical nation had given his blessing, and thus the Lego-lover had gone, still a little worried. He knew how much his long-time friend and lover hated being alone.

It was when the whole house was quiet and the Danish country representative had left, that his fears would come. In the darkness, cold, clammy fingers would reach out to the mysterious male, gripping his throat and his heart, filling his ears with awful whispers about how he was not strong, how the others must hate him for being so secluded and sarcastic. When the other was gone for longer than a few hours, scenes from battles fought in previous centuries were played before his mental eyes, leaving the normally composed nation to sob on the floor in panic.

Denmark knew this and he really dreaded going, scared of what would happen to his darling, but the other had practically pushed him out of the house, handing him his shoes and telling him to enjoy himself. They had spent so many New Years' celebrations together and there were so many more to come. So, it was only fair for the other nations to share the happy Dane from time to time.

Truth was, though, that Denmark didn't enjoy himself that much with the others. He never had. Sure, it was nice to drink and joke, make fun of others and just let himself go from time to time. But with worry in his heart and just generally wishing to be with Norway, the night wasn't half as fun as he had hoped. Beer was flowing richly, plenty of food was there. But the tall male couldn't help but long for Norway's gentle arms around him, the comfortable silence they would share underneath a blanket, slowly kissing and tracing every little part of their bodies.

The Dane didn't join in on the silly drinking games. He wasn't as loud and cheerful; his eyes weren't shimmering. Instead, he just stared into the glass in his hand, wishing that Norway were to somehow appear in the white foam on his drink. Of course, that was not going to happen.

At eleven o'clock, he couldn't handle it anymore. He had been gone since five and he had been worrying about his partner the whole night. Once again, he had picked up his bad habit of chewing on his nails, trying to ease his mind, telling himself that the small blond would be fine. But it just didn't feel right to not celebrate the start of yet another year without his most precious friend, the one person he wanted to spend all of his long life with. So, he had excused himself, saying that he didn't feel that well and that he wanted to see Norway. The other countries understood, some of them knew that their Nordic friend didn't handle being alone that well.

On the streets, Denmark saw all kinds of people. Drunk, holding hands, wishing each other a 'happy new year' in advance. The cold biting his face and seeing all the happy humans on the street made him hurry to his house, that he shared with Norway. It was a pretty home, white with a blue door. Usually, in the spring and summer, all kinds of flowers would bloom in their garden, mostly red ones. But now that winter had grasped this part of the earth and had choked all the plants with its icy hands, the garden was blank.

With a nervous flutter in his chest, excited and yet still concerned, the most southern Scandinavian country walked towards the door, unlocking it with his key. He didn't know what he had expected to find, but the darkness he was met with, surprised him. The silence hung thickly in the house, grasping the large man and pressing hard onto his chest. Where was Norway?

It seemed that his lover was not downstairs and hadn't been there for a long time, a cold cup of coffee greeted Denmark when he walked into the kitchen. That could only mean that the beautiful country had hid himself in their bedroom or had locked himself in the bathroom. Neither of the two options were very positive. After quickly glancing at the clock and realising that it had taken him a shocking 20 minutes to figure out that Norway was not downstairs, he ran up the stairs, still in silence.

His mind had been right, the Norwegian was on their bed, lying all curled up underneath the blankets. He had shed his clothes, left them sprawling out on the caramel carpet. Soft sobs could be heard, as well as the rustling of fabric when Norway started to shiver again. He was hyperventilating, eyes wide and scared. When Denmark walked in, the one on the bed barely responded. The sight hurt the tall Dane, it felt as if someone had taken his heart in their hand and had dug their nails into it.

Shushing softly, he hurried towards the cowered person on the bed. Norway felt the mattress dip, but he was so scared by the flashing images in front of his mental eye, that he didn't respond. His body was tense and he felt cold. The terrors had started about an hour after Denmark had left. First, Norway had tried to read a book, watch some television. But there was nothing interesting and the voices in his head kept bugging him, kept luring him into the darkness. When the blond had walked into the kitchen to make some coffee and he had noticed that the lights were off, meaning that he was alone, the terrors had spread out their fingers and grasped him, dragging him down forcefully.

How he had managed to get upstairs, was a miracle to him. As soon as the thoughts and images had started to appear, his whole body seemed to be out of control. Somehow, he had found himself in his bed, all naked and a mess. Then the door had opened, and his saviour had appeared.

"Hey… Shhh… It's okay Nor, I'm here. Shhhh", Denmark whispered, cradling the naked man in his arms, feeling the cold hands grip his shirt, tears wetting the fabric. It really wasn't a pretty sight to see and Denmark cursed himself for believing that Norway would have been alright.

Pressing gentle kisses to his forehead, he started to rock the tense body, caressing Norway's bare back, softly tugging on the pretty hair from time to time. The sobbing seemed to calm down, but the smaller Nordic was still hyperventilating.

"Nor… Nor! Shhh, Nor, take it easy. Count with me, Nor. Breathe in, one… Two…" Denmark counted to four, feeling Norway's chest rise. Then, he told him to hold his breath and the soft Dane counted to seven. The small man then was told to breathe out and Denmark counted to eight. He kept repeating the process, until his lover was breathing normally again.

"There you go, shhh… Feeling a little better yet?", he asked the man in his arms, pulling him closer. He felt how Norway nodded and buried his face in Denmark's chest.

"I'm sorry", he whispered into Norway's ear, pressing kisses down the slender neck. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I'm here now, I won't go away…" The man in his lap silenced him by pressing their lips together. Just at that moment, the church bell told them the New Year had begun. Norway smiled gently into the kiss. When they broke apart, he whispered, "Happy New Year." Denmark kissed him again, this time a little warmer, a little longer.

"Yes, happy New Year. Please let me stay with you for another year."

"Of course… You're my saviour, after all", the smaller one whispered, his voice sweet, which surprised Denmark.

"Yeah… I love you, Nor."

"I love you, too."

Well, I decided to play with my own feelings a little here. I don't like New Years and I feel very scared when it comes to fireworks. Sadly, in my homecountry, everyone lights them the whole day through and it just sounds as if there are shootings the whole day. So yeah, I don't feel that great today.

~Hana

(A happy new year to you guys! It's not even 20:00 h here, but oh well)