A/N: This is from Sweden's POV, I didn't wan't to make him talk like he usually does, so don't get upset, also this chapter made me sad to write, but I figured that it was worth it and I think this make a good spot in the story.

He stood reserved in the corner the whole time the others were asking questions. He only spoke up to tell her that she could talk to them about what was bothering her. When she left they all went to the messenger bag. They pulled out the sketch book.

"We should wait until she comes out. I don't want to snoop anymore, she looked so betrayed." Tino said looking nervously at the book. They all agreed and waited.

The thoughts about the book he had read were running through his head. He wanted to know what she meant in her writings, if she was alright or not. He had not told the others about what he had read. He knew it would disturb them, the thought of if her thoughts became reality… it made him shudder. Tino glanced at him for a moment then turned back to the others. She came back after nearly half an hour and when asked about the book by Mathias, she took it and sat on the bed. They all followed her and stood around her as she opened the book and revealed the horrors inside.

All of the images made his stomach flip. They all were gruesome, the last one though, she had drawn a lifelike picture of Tino and himself asleep on the plane. She looked at the black version of it for a moment then slammed the book shut and threw it across the room as hard as she could. The others went after it and took it to Canada and England as planned. But he stayed there.

She had begun to sob uncontrollably. She covered her eyes with both of her hands and would not stop bawling. He could not take it. It hurt him the most to see her in such a venerable state. He walked over to her and sat on the bed next to her. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her close to him. He laid her head on his chest. He sat here holding her in his arms thinking of what he would do if any of the things she had written she had actually done. He began to rock her back and forth as her crying quieted to silent hiccups. He realized that if needed he would do anything to protect her. Something in him was not going to let any of the things she has written in that book come to pass.

He felt her fall asleep. He looked down and saw her face was very peaceful, not like the horror racked faced he had recently seen. He kept his hold on her. He would not let her feel unprotected again. Surely, that is what she felt when she wrote those words. He closed his own eyes and he could feel her breathing, slow and steady, the breathing of a peaceful dreamer. He let his mind drift. It drifted to the book again, and the words written in side of it.

I wonder if it would hurt. And how I should do it. Should I take a razor blade to my wrist or throat? Or fashion a noose? Perhaps I could get lost in the worst part of the forest where wild beast will take care of it. I could fall into the fastest part of the current and let my lungs fill. Or I could 'accidently' fall into the next campfire. Maybe I could sneak one of the pistols ways from one of them and put it to my head. Or take a sword and fall on it. There are so many ways to die. It would be impossible to choose just one way to go. I do not want to take the easy way out with pills, I deserve to suffer. But I continue to live. Why? Is it because of the feelings I have for my guardians? Or is there something that is driving me to continue on? A force that wants me to see this to the end. Whatever it is, I want to know, yet my dreams tell me nothing.

I cannot seem to shake the feeling of longing. I know that they all arranged for me to have the best schooling that I could get. But I am alone. No one wants to be friends with the outcast who was the only survivor in her entire family's death. I have found myself, many a night, crying myself to sleep, as silently as possible in order to avoid waking anyone. I do not want anyone seeing me in this state. As far as my guardians go, it has been three years and I connect with none of them. I get along with Tino, Mathias bores me, Lukas seems to despise me, Emil never speaks to me, but stares me down, and Berwald, I can't say that he frightens me, but there is something in his eyes, every time I see him that make me feel as if he always has something to say. There are times I contemplate my previous thoughts on suicide. When the dreams are worse, they seem to come more quickly, but when I decide to end it… I cannot. It is like there is an invisible force that stops me, I come close, and then I feel the warmth that I felt the day I arrived at the Nordic's home. It was like they were a warm fire that I came into after being lost in the snow for so long. But at the same time, I find myself drifting back into the cold, unforgiving snow. How long can I hold out against it?

He could feel his own tears well in his eyes. He held her even closer. How? He thought, How can I keep you in the warmth of the fire, and out of the snow? He was now holding her as close as he could without hurting her. He bent down and placed his head on hers. He would find out how to stop her thoughts. Even if it meant asking her over and over again. He knew he loved her. She was like a daughter to him. He had known her since she was born. He would stop whatever it was hurting her, even if it cost him everything. He adjusted her slightly and placed one of his hands on her head, brushing several stray pieces of hair from her face. She deserved to have a better life. Being hunted like she was, it was not right. She stirred. He looked down at her as she opened her eyes and stared at nothing in particular.

"Thank you Sve." She whispered. Looking up at him.

"How did you know it was me?" He asked in his usual monotone voice.

"Your smell," She replied, "You smell like your flower shop." She said turning and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He stared in shock for a moment, and then hugged her back.

"How are you doing?" He asked striating her up so he could look into her eyes.

"How do you mean?" She asked looking back at him.

"I read your journal, about… about the suicidal thoughts." He admitted to her ashamed of himself suddenly.

"They are not so bad anymore. Usually the dreams would drive me to the point of madness, but recently, I haven had that urge so badly. And even if I did, I now know what was making me stop what I was trying to attempt and return home." She said looking him in the eye the whole time.

"What?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"You. I knew that if I did any of that, it would depress you. And I can't stand to see you hurt so Sve." She said looking into his eyes. He could feel her sincerity in her words, and knew they were true. Should she do those things he would be inconsolable.

"You call all of the others by their human names, but not me. Why?" He asked.

"The others, I feel either do not care if I am around them in a room, bore me, or are a little overbearing. But I guess it is because I care for and respect you. And out of everyone, I see you as more of a father figure." She replied never breaking eye contact. He could feel a twinge of happiness in his heart. She did see him as something more that cold or distant.

"I have one more question for you. How can I keep you out of the snow?" He asked referencing her own words. She smiled slightly.

"You can't." She said, "As long as that thing is after me, I cannot stay out of the snow, I can only be relived of it temporarily, not permanently." She said with a sad smile. His thoughts went blank. How could he stop this thing? He would eventually. His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet yawn.

"Sorry, I guess I'm still a little tired." She said rubbing her eyes.

"I will leave you to get some rest then." He said standing up. He felt her grab his wrist.

"No please. Don't go. I—I don't want that nightmare to come back. Please, will you stay here?" She asked looking at him pleadingly. He gave in. She was not ready to confront the dream again anyway. He walked to the other side of the bed and lay down. She laid her head on his chest. One of her hands was next to her face slightly curled, the palm was facing up. He put his arm around her, leaving his hand to rest on her shoulder. She reached across him and grabbed his hand. He didn't fight, she held his hand, and he felt like she was trying to get away from something. He watched her drift to sleep until her hand twitched once as she fell into a deep sleep.

You must really be good at hiding. You have hidden so much from us all for so long, but soon, you will not have to hide. If only you knew what we are doing to protect you from this thing. You would hate us, but for now, you need help. I hope you understand that we are doing this to protect you. That even the coldest of us do care, sometimes we can't show it though. He thought closing his eyes and going to sleep himself. He had not slept since that incident on the plane. As long as he knew she was safe, he could be at ease. Perhaps, the only place that he knew she was safe, was right there in his arms.

His eyes drifted open once as he fell asleep, he could have sworn there was some kind of writing on the wall across from the bed. Along with what seemed to be a dark figure bent over her notebooks.

A/N: Need I say it anymore? I don't own Hetalia, or Slender Man. So I wish you all a good day and reviews make me smile~!