What Matters, in the end

Summary: "The loss is irreparable, but precisely in these difficult days a consolidation of people's is very important to jointly to overcome the consequences of this terrible tragedy." (Dmitry Medvedev) We must walk on. [Lithuania & Poland, Russia]

Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

Rate: PG

Genre(s): Angst, comfort.

Warnings: On the subject of the 2010 Polish Air Force Tu-154 crash. Some inner literary connections.

Author's comments: I confess that I don't know much about Poland nor Russia. I had a polish friend when I was younger, and one of my childhood friends is Russian. But the geographical location and some history of their foreign affairs come to the limits of my knowledge of either countries. But somehow, the news of how Poland had lost its president and its "intellectual elite" (Kwaśniewski) had caused me to lapse into shock and even start crying. My heart is to you, Poland, and to the people who have sensed loss on this day. I sincerely hope this does not offend anybody, including Lithuanians and Russians, particularly since I am a nobody in the face of this tragedy. But my grief was too great, and even I needed to express the feelings I've had to bite back for a performance I had to stage the very same evening.

Please forgive me for any discomfort or frustration felt in this story. I only mean to express my profound condolences for both nations, and I hope this double-sided one-shot will offer hope to those who have lost on that day.

The possibility of pain through tears, the weather, and Lithuania's silent support are based on true facts. Lithuania is the only nation (according to Wikipedia) that hadn't immediately sent or said condolences to Poland.

Time had stopped. His breaths disappeared into the silence.

The brunette stared fixedly at the blonde, who sat upon the bed, head turned towards the window, the clouds that gathered. He dared not move, even though he had walked as fast as he could down the hospital halls. He had to remain cordial, and to rush was to cause panic. He had to remain calm…

He slid the door behind him, biting his lips at the creaking and groaning the door made. Poland looked up. Lithuania, undeterred, continued his walk toward his close friend, never once leaving his gaze.

He only had mild scratches on his face, and the blonde shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm fine. Just…a little banged up."

His hoarse voice was barely a whisper, the scratches biting into his cheeks. Throbbing, Lithuania noticed, left unbandaged.

Toris took his hand, delicately, lightly squeezing over the bandage that wrapped itself around his knuckles, neat and white.

Poland sniffed. "I'm fine, I said. I don't even remember what happened. They found me up a tree, apparently." He lightly chuckled, raising his eyes to the brunette. "R-Remember? Like the old times…"

Toris said nothing. Of course he remembered, the airplane-escape plan. But then, there was no escape plan.

Feliks shifted among the white sheets and, voice cracking, broke the silence. "I-I survived, s-so I'm fine." His voice quivered and he stared intently into the Lithuanian's brown eyes. "T-There's always a-a 'next guy' w-who'll be the boss a-and we'll move on...w-we'll know what had happened a-and it'll be a thing o-of the past."

Feliks slowly grinned, splitting his lip. "I-I'm the phoenix, w-we all are. A-And I'll come back, too and I'll m-move on, too…"

He turned his head away from the brunette, licking his bloody lips. Toris still didn't move, and watched him silently.

"I'll remember, eventually." He tossed his head back, gripping Toris' hand like a child would to a brother. He began to babble. "I'll remember how he had told me to settle down in my seat, how it all went up in flames, how I had put them all in the same airplane, how amazed I was when he told me that Russia's bosses convinced him to admit the..the…a-and when I a-actually saw him at the r-remembrance ceremony l-last week, and he…he apologized, a-and how everybody was saying this day was going to be the start of the f-fading of scars…"

He slipped his grip from Lithuania to grab at his own shoulder, staring again at the clouds. "I survived," he whispered, finally. "In the end, that's all that…like…matters…"

A silence prolonged. Lithuania bowed his head, squeezing his eyes and his fist over the sheets in frustration. This hadn't been the first time this has happened. It's happened to all of them, for as long as the nation can continue standing on their feet, their people can move on.

But what of the nations, who existed as a human entity. They already decided on the next elections, and it's only been a few hours. As long as they don't lose their legs, their support, they must walk on. They cannot afford to lose what their people have worked so hard during their past. For their lives, their existence, themselves, they have had to rise and fall. Blood eventually stops flowing.

"Liet."

He looked up.

Poland seemed to glow with the white, a slight smile on his lips. He opened his arms, the artificial lights reflecting his broken smile. His lips were sucked dry.

"Hug?"

And he leaned forward and embraced his companion, silently and without hesitation. The blonde buried his face onto his shoulder and Lithuania felt the tears. He looked out, past the blond locks, the light rain that had started, offering no words. For as long as those tears don't sting those wounds, he'll be there to catch them for him.

And, when anything he says can actually mean something, until then, Lithuania will stay silent and wait for Poland to stand again, wait for the clouds to pass.

Russia's head was bowed. Staring down at his feet, not saying a word. He'd been sitting on the curb, in front of the Polish embassy, watching his people put down flowers in front of the iron gates, exchanging their looks, watching the newscasters. There was hardly a patch of blue sky in sight.

Footsteps approached him. He slowly looked up. He snapped upwards, leaping to his feet. His violet eyes wide and searching for something in the eyes of the approaching men.

Please, oh, please.

"D-Did you find something..?"

The men straightened their shoulders back, faces grim. "We're still investigating, but we were able to recover the bodies, just as you've requested."

He let out a shuddering breath, slightly trembling. "It is…the least I can do…" he faltered, he sat back down, staring down the street again. "Is there anything…anything…"

Silence. Nobody moved.

Ivan clenched his fists together tightly. "Isn't there anything," he rasped. "I can do right?"

Both men looked down at him, brows furrowing slightly. "Russia…"

"They'll blame me, won't they?" He said, raising his voice. "They'll say that it was General Winter and I should have done something, and they'll say that I'm just using the investigation as an excuse, that I don't mean to help support P-Poland, a-and that I-I-I'm cursed, Katyn is cursed, I'm cursed--"

"Russia."

He looked up, loss hollowing his visage.

One of them crouched down before him, and firmly held his shoulder. "It's been so little time since we've learned to reconcile and repent your past. The world still needs to understand that you really do mean no harm, and this was just a tragic coincidence. You had nothing to do with this."

"I just…I just want peace…" Ivan mumbled, a sorrowful child. "The days of sun and blooming sunflowers…but…but…"

The grip held stronger, and the man approached his face closer to the larger man. "We will accomplish our dream. All of us, all together, the whole world, you and them."

Russia did not respond.

"Ivan," The man lowered his voice. "A rainbow grows and shines out of sun and rain, together."

He craned his neck, staring into the gray-blue eyes of the man before him. "Boss…"

He patted his shoulder once, and beckoned the country to stand on his feet. Russia did so.

"We will walk together, Fatherland."

A light rain sprinkled gently over Ivan's nose and he blinked in the hazy moisture. He straightened his back. He felt the glow of dusk settling over his back.

"Yes. Yes, we will."