Author: Cyhirae
Edited: Lumineux

Disclaimer: Hetalia, the characters and the songs referenced are not mine or Lumineux's; they belong to their respective creators. We just borrowed them for this dark little story.

Awareness came and went in strange flows not unlike a tide to Norway. One moment, he was on the seas, leading his people to one raid after another in their explorations…then he was sitting in that shelter where only darkness could be seen. He rebelled against that second image and the other returned to him, of the days when he stood strong.

Then they withered before him, as his people fell to plague and famine. He felt it ravage him even as it did them, as the flames of radiation and biological weapons would in the days of that dark shelter….

And that brought on something comforting and terrifying in its own right: someone holding him, assuring everything would be taken care of. He didn't have to face it alone or at all; Denmark would do it all.

Tend the sick; bring the food. Take the 'burden' of self rulership away and let them recover freely. And Norway had agreed; a mistake he had had nearly four hundred years and some more to regret. He had sworn to himself if he ever had the chance, he would take himself and his people as their own again, free of anyone's control, well intentioned or otherwise.

It had finally come true; he willed those images to his consciousness, to remember that he had gotten it. So why was the only thing coming to his mind the feeling of being held, the sensation of bars closing in?

And why of all things in this dead and desolate no man's land was he hearing Denmark?

"Just rest, Norge; we've got it being taken care of." He could even feel the other walking; carrying him, just as back in the days of the plague. "The survivors are being gathered up, you don't have to worry. We'll be at my house soon; your people are coming too. We've got room for them; it'll be just like before."

A feeling of sickening realization struck Norway's mind then; this was not a memory. It was not a vision. Denmark was truly here, carrying him…promising to take care of it all….

To put him right back in that cage he'd taken so long to escape.

"N…no…." Norway forced his eyes open, staring up at Denmark's ash stained face. One hand reached out and pushed uselessly against his chin. "Put...me down. Leave. We…we will…"

"Norge! You're awake!" Denmark didn't even bother to acknowledge the attempted shove; he looked too relieved to even care. "It's alright; we've got it all in hand. The evacuation is going smoothly; they found a few with radios still! It's a miracle you all lasted this long!"

The relief was touching; it had been back then too, when Denmark had found him among the dead and dying victims of the plague, attempting to find some food for a starving family. He had always been ready to come in, to help and take over all of the needs.

"Not…this time." Norway hardened himself against that relief; if he gave in he knew what would follow. It always did. "Danmark…not…this time." His voice was rusty with disuse; had he been anything but a nation incarnate, he would have likely been unable to speak at all or half mad to realize how long he had been alone, unspeaking in that dark place.

"Shh, stop talking Norge. I heard you; but just look at yourself!" The Dane drew to a halt finally; around them, Norway could hear the sound of many people talking, nearly all of them Danes themselves. In the name of mercy, he was being invaded by Denmark. Again.

Then his attention was caught by what Denmark had stopped before; a large van, polished steel-silver and glinting even in this ash-veiled land…the reflection was slightly distorted but still visible. The Dane looked the same as ever; tall and confident- perfectly full of himself and his good intentions. The other figure, set on his feet and held there only by Denmark, Norway barely recognized. It looked so frail; starved to a near skeleton and clothed in rags that barely remembered they'd once been purple. The hair was limp and matted with ash, what skin could be seen at all unnaturally pallid.

Not even the plague had ravaged him so. Just how many of his people had he lost?

The hand Denmark put on his shoulder all but engulfed it as he pat gently, seemingly afraid of doing harm to the smaller nation by even that slight motion.

"See? So we'll just-"

"We are doing nothing!" Norway coughed as he forced that out above the near whispers he'd so far found himself constrained to; this was suddenly all too familiar. History was playing itself out before him again, nearly by wrote. He stumbled away from Denmark's startled touch, all but throwing himself toward that truck, then turning to lean his back to it. He leveled what he hoped was a properly defiant glare at the Dane. "I am going to find my people; and I am going to-" His voice broke off in a fit of coughing, nearly doubling over from the force of it.

Denmark began to move toward him then, a pained and somewhat condescending half smile in place. It fell off, however, when his outstretched hand was struck away by the coughing nation. His eyes narrowed as Norway continued to back away, looking somewhat wild eyed and panicked, to his mind.

"Come on, Norge; I know you like to keep your distance but just listen to yourself!" Denmark kept his tone level with effort; yelling at Norway for being a fool wasn't going to get him to listen. "You can barely talk or breathe; imagine what that means for your people!"

The other nation mutely shook his head, still withdrawing one step for every one Denmark took toward him. Denmark mentally counted, timing it as he watched the other's movements, then lunged to the side as Norway tried to bolt, grabbing a hold of the ruined nation's arm and dragging him back toward him.

It was sickeningly easily to do; Norway had hardly any strength left. It was no trouble at all to dismiss his struggles and turn him again to pin his back against him, wrists caught and forcibly pressed against the smaller nation's chest. He knelt down as Norway tried to kick out at him, using his weight to force the other down to his knees.

"God, Norge! Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you!" Frustration and confusion both painted Denmark's tone as the other still struggled to get some kind of ground against him, twisting this way and that ineffectively to break the hold.

Just what the hell had happened to Norway all this time alone to turn him so damned near feral? He was acting more like a beast than a person; afraid to let anyone close. He had taken terrible losses before and never been this wild for them.

"Let me go! Let me go, Danmark!" Though it grew no stronger, the struggling had grown more wild; Denmark tightened his grip enough that Norway began to cough again as his lungs found themselves restricted. "I am not going with you!" The words finally forced themselves out through the coughs and gasped for breaths; Denmark shook his head slightly then pressed his cheek against ash matted hair.

Norway was still lost and panicked by all that had happened; that had to be it. Finally Denmark stood again once the coughing eased up for the smaller nation, scooping him up as he went. It was pathetically easy to do so; Norway hardly weighed a thing any longer.

"It's over, Norge; you're safe now. Calm down; I'll take care of everything from now on." Words meant to reassure only seemed to bring forth a kind of panic again, though this time at least, it lacked any real attempt to escape. He simply didn't have the strength to keep struggling, it seemed.

Denmark began walking to the ships, keeping the other nestled firmly against him. All that mattered now was to get him to his home so Norway could start recovering; he wouldn't make the same mistakes this time he had before. He let Norway go his own way for a couple centuries and look what happened to him.

Not this time; he'd not let Norway go again. Not in all of this turmoil.

"Just rest; the pain will stop soon and then you can start healing. Nothing can hurt you anymore." That was a bit of a lie; there were those in Norway who, like the nation himself, were resisting the aid Denmark was bringing. They were understandably panicked and suspicious of the world outside of their safe havens now.

Of course Norway was being unreasonable and panicked; every last one of his people were acting that way. He would simply have to treat the other the same way for now; make him accept the aid and understand it was for his own good. Once he saw Europe proper, he'd understand this was for the best.

Once his people began recovering and grasping that they no longer had to fight over tainted scraps of land and food like mad dogs, they'd all get better. Until then, he'd just have to shield the smaller nation and take the rejections in stride. Norway would understand soon enough this was what he needed.

Denmark sighed in relief as he watched the other's eyes close finally, exhaustion taking its toll. It wasn't how he would have preferred to get Norway to stop struggling, but it worked in his favor. He settled the other onto his bunk once on the ship and sat on the floor beside it. Now he could fully take stock of the harm done to Norway and swallowed a bitter curse before gently pulling the blanket up over him.

Yes, he would take care of Norway from here on; just like in the days following the plague and famine. He'd take all the pain the world wanted to throw and keep Norway safe behind him. He was far too weak and frail now to do so himself. He would protest and struggle, but eventually he'd know it was all for his own good. The Norwegians would be settled somewhere safer than the wasteland their homeland had become and Norway himself would stay in his house.

It would be just like the days of Denmark-Norway again. Norway would understand just like he did back then it was what all for his own sake and accept it. Smiling at the thought, Denmark settled against the bunk and eventually drifted off himself.

If Norway dreamed of the days of traversing the seas, Denmark dreamed of the years that followed; when he never had to wonder how those under his aegis were doing. If he prospered, then they prospered with him.

And that was simply how it should always be, wasn't it?