Distress

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"Take off your clothes." Russia's large hands were frantic, tugging at the stubborn buttons of Lithuania's coat. It didn't help that Lithuania was hindering his progress by trying to bat his hands away. Lithuania's fingers fumbled to grip around Russia's wrists but they wouldn't, for they shook so badly he had no control over them. He threw his arms up instead, hitting Russia's bare chest.

"No! No! Puh-Puh-Puh-Please…" Lithuania's pale lips could barely form the words. His large, wet eyes and high voice reminded Russia of a moose calf.

"But you have to." Time was precious. He couldn't wait for Lithuania to decide to be cooperative. Shifting his weight to give himself a better angle, Russia gave the fabric a single, hard yank. The buttons popped off and flew everywhere. He slipped one arm under Lithuania's shirt around his back, pulled the smaller nation closer to him, and began coaxing the coat from its owner's shoulders. Lithuania's damp skin was ice under Russia's fingertips. The rosy glow that usually filled Lithuania's cheeks was gone, replaced by ghostly white. His hair was disheveled, strands clinging to his forehead as the frost that clutched to it melted and the rest was gradually drying into a tangled mess.

"Let me take your coat off. I don't want to hurt you." He found himself gasping for air as he worked to remove the clothing. Why was Lithuania, who Russia could depend on for being sensible and level-headed, being troublesome now?

"I duh-duh-don't wh-wan—. Leave muh-me alo—. He-elp! Estonia! Latviaaa!" Lithuania's shallow breath hitched, and Russia worried he might pass out. Then again, that would make undressing him a lot easier since he wouldn't be awake to struggle.

"Estonia and Latvia are gone, remember? They were called to Estonia's house. We're alone."

"No! Somebody, help me!"

"I'm trying!"

Outside, the wind shrieked and howled. The window shutters prevented them from seeing the blizzard outside. The house was dark except the warm glow of the crackling fire that cast tremulous shadows on the walls. The two men were on the floor in front of the fire. Russia had stripped naked already and hung his clothes to dry, but for whatever reason he couldn't convince Lithuania to do the same, even though the wet clothing clung to his skin and sucked all the heat from his body.

He had to wrench Lithuania's arms back to remove the coat. Lithuania cried out in pain. Russia winced. This is for his own good, Russia thought. Images floated through his mind, images of peeling black flesh, frozen bodies half buried in the snow, crazed men who lost all connection to reality, suffering, pain, and quiet death. Every picture was horrible and Russia wished he could forget, but at the same time he didn't in order to appreciate how horrible it was. The last image was the most recent: Lithuania lying still on the icy road, covered by a rapidly thickening layer of white snow.

His hands worked faster, threw the coat over his shoulder, and grabbed the hem of Lithuania's shirt. He ripped the shirt up the back, the sound of tearing fabric almost as loud in his ears as Lithuania's short breaths. His heart raced.

That was the cost of protection, absolute protection from invasion. The old man, cruel but honestly impartial, saw to it that any enemy crossing into his territory would not walk out unscathed, if they walked out at all. However, the policy wasn't strictly for enemies. Russia, too, suffered, but his body was large enough and hard enough and strong enough to endure that he didn't notice being cold anymore, only noticed the lack of warmth. Not so much for his sisters and friends and Lithuania, soft-spoken Lithuania, who possessed an indomitable spirit but a slim, fragile body. Russia was terrified he'd break Lithuania in two if he kept being so rough. If only Lithuania would trust him.

Russia tossed the two halves of a shirt on top of the coat without looking away from Lithuania's face. He was pleased to see Lithuania offering much less resistance now, though weak whimpers came out as small squeaks and the tears stood out in his cabbage-green eyes. Lithuania's muscles shivered trying to warm his blue-tinted flesh. His body lay half-naked and prostrate before Russia, vulnerable to his touch. Russia placed his hands on Lithuania's flat stomach and rubbed them over his stomach, up his quivering chest, over the slopes of his shoulders, down his slender arms, creating heat from the friction.

When his hands slid across Lithuania's back, Russia felt every bump and ridge that marked a scar beneath his fingertips. The scars were meaningful to Russia. Each one of them was a symbol of their connection. Lithuania was his, only his, the one who had given the scars to bind them, each one holding a memory. In the same way, he was Lithuania's; those scars were as much his to claim. The memories were theirs to share. Bad scars, good scars. Wars and reunions. Times of celebration; times when Russia could barely remember there was at least one good thing left in the world. Russia fingered the scars lovingly, hoping desperately that this night would not leave another bad scar across their history.

Each touch caused Lithuania to flinch, as if in pain. He leaned forward to break contact between his back and Russia's hand, which drove him completely into Russia's embrace, and he threw up his arms between them, keeping them close but separated. Russia couldn't decide whether to smile or frown, either from Lithuania pressing close to him, close enough he could smell the earthy scent of distant rye fields, or that Lithuania had recoiled from his touch, even though he was trying to help and being as gentle as he could. He wrapped an arm around Lithuania's waist, bringing their bodies as close together as possible, letting his body heat warm Lithuania. The small nation let out a raspy sob, and Russia felt droplets hit his thigh. He looked down and saw tears dripping from Lithuania's hidden face.

Russia decided to smile. Perhaps if Lithuania saw him smile, he'd be comforted.

He wasn't.

The crying got worse.

"Lithuania," Russia whispered, cupping Lithuania's cheek in his free hand and lifting it so he could look into the other's face. It was unnerving, the way Lithuania looked at him, like he had betrayed Lithuania some way and hated him for it. He might as well have staked Russia in the heart with an icicle for the pain it caused.

Should he stop? He couldn't possibly. Lithuania still hadn't removed all of his wet clothes. Russia moved his hands to undo the belt buckle when Lithuania gasped and reached for his wrists. His hands still couldn't form a grip but he dug his nails into Russia's skin, leaving red crescent moons behind.

"Duh-Don't." Lithuania gulped. "Don't. Russia…"

"I have to. Let me."

Lithuania continued to protest and scratch him, but Russia worked the belt buckle loose because the scratches weren't physically painful. They repeated the same lines over and over, Lithuania pleading him to stop, and Russia begging to help. He wanted to take the cold away. He wanted to make Lithuania forget about the raging blizzard outside and make him warm again, no matter what. But he didn't want to hurt him, either, if he could help it.

The belt finally taken care of, Russia slipped his fingers under the waistbands and pulled both trousers and underwear down over Lithuania's narrow hips. A burst of energy coursed through Lithuania's body as he began fighting Russia off with renewed vigor. He brought his knee up. Russia thrust his hips back to avoid being hit. Lithuania's leg was in the perfect position, and before Russia could react, he landed a kick into Russia's gut, sending the larger nation reeling backwards. Russia clutched his belly in surprise while Lithuania scrambled up, but Russia was not hindered by being frozen and recovered quickly. Cold, unrestrained anger exploded within him. He leapt forward. Their bodies collided, falling the short distance to the floor. Lithuania grunted after his head knocked against the floor. Russia pinned him down, straddling his legs on either side of his hips. Russia tangled his fingers in the damp brown hair and pressed Lithuania's face against the rug, letting his weight settle on top of the other's back and prevent him from struggling further.

"Stop," he ordered, lips centimeters from Lithuania's ear. Lithuania did not obey the first time, so he twisted his fingers and pressed harder. "I said, stop."

After a deep, ragged breath, Lithuania's body stilled. The anger flooded out of Russia as swiftly as it came.

"Now," Russia loosened his grip slightly. "I'm going to finish undressing you, and you aren't going to fight anymore. You understand, yes?"

Lithuania nodded slightly.

"Say you understand."

"I und-" Lithuania gulped audibly. "I understand."

"Good. Don't move."

Russia rose, letting his hand brush over the scars as it moved lower. He slipped his fingers under the waistbands again, pausing a second to wait for a reaction. Lithuania muttered something but obediently allowed Russia to continue. He had the trousers down to Lithuania's knees when realized something and laughed.

"Guess what?"

"Hm?" Lithuania turned his head to the side. His expression was listless. Russia's heart sank, but he thought this might give Lithuania a laugh and that would be good for him.

"I was taking off your pants, but I forgot to take off your boots first!"

"Yes, that's funny."

"I know!" Russia smiled, reaching out to move a strand of hair out of Lithuania's face.

The boots were quickly removed, followed by a pair of thick grey socks. The trousers and underwear went in one last pull, and finally Lithuania was fully undressed. His skin was no longer tinted blue, only white as the snow Russia had found him in, and it gave off an ethereal glow as it reflected the light from the fire. Russia reached for a quilt and pulled it over Lithuania.

"I'm leaving for a minute. Stay by the fire, please?"

Lithuania nodded.

Before leaving, Russia placed a new log into the fire. He grabbed a second quilt and wrapped it around his body as he walked through the dark, empty mansion. Everything was colder away from the parlor and the fireplace. He went to the kitchen, where the light was on as he left it. Two kettles heated on the stove, one tea concentrate, the other boiling water, both ready for pouring. Russia prepared two cups. Lithuania preferred bitter tea, which wasn't possible tonight as Russia scooped sugar into the two cups, so to counter the extra sweetness Russia added more concentrate. He hoped Lithuania would like it, but if he didn't, well, what was one cup of tea?

Russia returned carrying a tray and found Lithuania had curled into a ball underneath the quilt. He cleared his throat to make his presence known. A little brown head poked out from beneath the quilt like a little mammal poking its head out of the comfort of its den. Russia blushed and thought of how incredibly cute Lithuania looked doing that.

"I made tea for us."

Clutching the quilt with one hand to keep it in place, Lithuania used the other to push himself up. He looked at the teacups doubtfully.

Russia looked apologetic. "I tried to make it the way you like," he explained.

Lithuania turned his head to stare at the fire. "Why are you doing this?"

The question baffled Russia. What was Lithuania asking him, 'Why?' Did he honestly not know the answer? Or had the cold, which had made him so irritable and reluctant to accept Russia's help, confused him on this point as well? Either way, Russia wanted to reassure him.

"Because you're my little Lithuania." He had never said the words out loud before, but they came so naturally to him now he didn't mind letting them out into the open. He offered the cup of tea to Lithuania, who looked at it, then Russia's face, then back to the cup before bowing his head.

"Okay." Lithuania reached out with a trembling hand. Russia gently pushed his hand down and held the cup against Lithuania's lips. He sipped slowly, pausing once in a while to stare pensively. Russia wished he knew what Lithuania was thinking but had to be content with the fact that he was being compliant.

A little later, Lithuania drained his cup and Russia's too, and was curled up under his quilt again, this time with Russia's arm wrapped around him. Russia pulled his quilt over them, and soon they were huddled together in a cocoon of warmth, the blizzard as far away from them as the moon.

But Lithuania was still trembling.

Hadn't Russia done everything right? Surely Lithuania's own body temperature should be returning to normal. The fire, the tea, the quilts, Russia was even used himself to shield Lithuania from freezing.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"No. I'm very warm now, thanks to you."

Russia heaved a sigh of relief and hugged Lithuania. "But you're trembling so much…"

"Am I? I'm sure it's nothing. Are you…?" Lithuania's voice trailed off.

"I'm warm with you."

"Oh. I meant… When are you…?" Russia had rarely seen Lithuania look as worn out as he did then. He rolled onto his back, encouraging Lithuania to use his shoulder as a pillow by cradling him in his arm.

"Close your eyes, Lithuania."

Lithuania looked grim for a second, but closed his eyes and dug his head into Russia's shoulder. In a few minutes his breathing evened and his body relaxed with sleep. At last, Russia relaxed as well. The sight of Lithuania in his arms, warm and safe, filled him with more happiness than he could remember feeling for a long time. Swept up in the emotion, he pressed a kiss against Lithuania's forehead. The nation whimpered but did not wake up.

"My little Lithuania." Russia closed his eyes, matching his breath with Lithuania's.

Bright sunlight woke Russia the next morning. He felt beside him but only found air. A quilt was missing. The fire in the hearth had died during the night.

Lithuania was standing in front of a window, staring out of it as if unaware of everything around him. He held the quilt tightly around him.

Russia walked up behind him and reached out.

"Don't touch me," Lithuania said, his voice as cold as ice.

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If you originally thought what I wanted you to think, then my mission is accomplished. I am not proud that I'm proud about how well this came out, but I am proud about how well this came out.

RussLiet barely tops RussAme as my favorite Russia pairing, but unfortunately, unlike RussAme, there's no possible happy ending for this couple, and that's what I like about it. I find the inevitable heartbreak poignant.