SORRY FOR THE DARK CHAPTER! To make up for it the two or three chapters that will follow will be full of friendship fluff, banana selling grandmas, prehistoric GPS and the frying pangle followed by England's quest and the European conference (Germany's POV) :D

Thank ALL the reviewers! (AKA: EchoLily, Kitty the Dinosquirrel, TheAwesomePrussia and HimekoUchia)

TheAwesomePrussia : Don't worry, she's not suicidal... yet (Nah just kidding)
HimekoUchia : I'll try to update at least once every two weeks and I'll also try to stay alive (but remember, I can't help it if rainbow ninjas come and kidnap me)

OH NO! The disclaimers for the previous ten chapters have escaped to this page (I did not forget about them) : I do not own Hetalia (NOOOOOOOOO! Oh God Why?), I own Irene and the plot.

This chapter comes before the tenth but I thought it would be better to switch them. (More suspense ;P)

Irene didn't even know one could fly down the stairs at such a speed without falling. Her feet barely touched the wooden steps as she headed for the ground floor of the vast mansion. Who cares about beating the world record of going down a staircase? She focused her mind on the task at hand, finding out the origins of the regular glass shattering sound she could hear from her room. It had started a few minutes before and the teen had already lost count of the number of times the eerie noise had resonated between the walls of the house since then, mainly because it was 2 a.m. and her brain was begging for sleep.

She gently turned the kitchen's doorknob and carefully pushed the creaking door to peak in the dark room. A dim ray of moonlight light that pierced the small rectangle window was the only thing keeping Irene from complete blindness and without it; she would never have seen the curled being shivering in the corner. It was big, the size of an armchair but Irene couldn't tell what it was. She quickly took notice of the stench within the room. Alcohol… that thing must have knocked those bottles out of their cupboard. She widened the gap between the door and the wall and slid in the kitchen.

The creature flinched, suddenly aware of the girl's presence. Irene expected it to start running away or to cautiously approach her but all she got was a bottle of vodka thrown at her face. It didn't hit her, it landed about twenty centimetres away from her head yet it still hurt. The pain wasn't physical; the pain was in the fact that she noticed the colour of the creature's eyes. Amethyst. Ivan had just tried to kill her.

"I-Ivan?" she asked, her voice shaking

"Irene?" his voice was low, unaccompanied by his usual childish tone. The girl took a step closer to the man "Leave." The harshness in his voice only equalled its sadness

"I'm not leaving." Irene replied with determination.

"Дa, you say that now. In the end, you will leave." The Russian said

"I won't le – " protested the girl

"Everyone leaves" he interrupted in a quiet voice "Everyone leaves!" he then added loud and clear "They all leave!"

The teenager didn't know what to do. The man had always seemed so tall and powerful to her, even as he cried when China became his friend his dignity still remained. Now he was bare. His soul exposed, stripped from the little sanity it had. The Russian was at his most dangerous state yet at his weakest. And Irene couldn't decide on how to react to him. I could hug him and tell him he's not alone. I could yell at him and calm him down. I could try reasoning with his current state of mind. The girl took a step closer.

"Leave." He sharply ordered

She took another step.

Irene wanted to tear her eyes away from the pitiful sight; she hated looking down on someone, especially him. But she couldn't. This was reality. These were Russia's true feelings, the ones he usually hid behind his mask.

The girl closed the space between the two of them and raised her hand in an attempt to grab the nation's shoulder. Russia immediately slapped the hand away like a scared cat before glaring in her eyes. The purple orbs stood out from the darkness of the night and for a moment, Irene did nothing but stare at them. There was no hatred in the glare, no anger, only fear. Irene knew those eyes only too well, she had seen them so many times she had learnt their exact meaning. They expressed the fear of losing everything once more, the fear of being alone again. And no one understood that fear better than Irene.

She remembered the feeling she couldn't place a finger on when she first decided to stick with Russia. Why didn't I realise what it was sooner? How could I not notice it? Her heart tightened as it only hurt more to see Ivan like that now that she knew what she saw in the man.

The nation abruptly shot up from his balled up position, holding his head as if letting it go meant releasing the Kraken. He swayed violently before pinning himself on the wall, his eyes looking down on Irene from between his gloved fingers. Even thou the girl was forced to tilt her head to keep eye contact with him, she still had the impression of watching him from above. Ivan let out a few painful laughs from his mouth as its corners rotated in a crooked, corrupted smile giving the impression that unless Russia was renamed Insanityland, the man personified the wrong country.

Irene didn't bulge. She couldn't bring herself to be scared of him when she knew it was only a matter of time before she became like that. What he had to endure for centuries, she endured in four years. While people feared him, they pitied her. While harsh winter always surrounded him, it lasted two days for her. While he wore an obvious fake smile, her mask was better, if not perfect. But in the end, we're the same.

"Go away! If you do not leave me, you'll stab me in the back!" he predicted between his deranged giggles "Unless you'll become one with Mother Russia, Дa~? Become one with Mother Russia…" He clenched his teeth and squeezed his head between his hands to the point where his fingers almost tore his pale skin. As Irene's eyes gradually got used to the darkness, she started noticing the tears covering his cheeks. His face couldn't decide which emotion to portray and was distorting itself in what looked closer to that of a monster than of a man. "Kolkolkol… Do you know who tainted the sunflowers red?"

"Ivan." Irene took a deep breath to insure her composure "Please calm do –"

"Not just the sunflowers," he continued "I spilled blood all over the snow too! It deserved to be stain… Kolkolkol…"

"Ivan." Her tone was more intense "Listen to me, if you don –"

He burst in a round of crazy laughter as he took out his iron pipe and smashed it against the wall, causing all the glasses standing on the shelves to fall at once. He smashed everything in his range, the table, the sink, until only Iren was left unscratched "This is fun!" his childish voice was back but not without a threatening tone "Why do objects break so easily~? Will I break too one day? Дa! It'll be fu~n!" tears started rolling down his eyes again but his unnatural smile didn't waver "Maybe death is kinder than General Winter."

"Don't you dare to go all suicidal on me!" warned the girl

"Why?" his eyes were wide opened "Don't pretend to care~ No one will mourn my death. No, no. They won't mourn my death. They will celebrate. Big party!" he resumed his rampage, choosing as a victim the window. The glass plate shattered on the floor, adding to the broken vodka bottles and to the fissured glasses. He seized himself again. With a loud cling the iron pipe embraced the floor, released from the giant's grip. His arms covered his face in an unsuccessful attempt to hide himself from the girl standing a few inches away, as still as a statue. "Don't look! I hurt people, I'm not safe… Leave me alone! I won't hurt, I don't want to be hurt... Winter, only General Winter… Дa, he can protect me… He'll make me suffer but I will be protected… Nyet! It's no good… No…"

"Ivan… Please…" the girl's eyes were filled with tears as it was a torture to watch Ivan's mental breakdown. Despite Irene's plead, the nation continued mumbling to himself and rambling on about unrelated problems. Then there's only one thing left to do "Calm down or I pull the fucking trigger."

In reaction to the sudden change of tone, the Russian lifted his eyes to see his guest pointing the gun she took out of her shirt at her own head. Her eyes, thou they were crying, were dead serious and her finger rested on the trigger, ready to pull it.

The feeling of brushing against death once more was unpleasant to the young girl. She hated the touch of the cold metal muzzle against her forehead, she despised the fact that she was offering to sacrifice herself again. But if it can get his attention this way…

Ivan remained paralysed for a while, trying to register what was happening. He then slumped on the vodka covered floor and started crying in his hands. Why is he so small? Irene lowered herself to his level and wrapped her arms around the overgrown child "You're not alone and I won't leave you." Lies. She knew she was lying. One day she would have to go back to her world. If only she could heal his heart before then.

The hug lasted for a few minutes during which Russia struggled to regain his mask. He finally brought back his signature smile and stood up "Now it is time to sleep, Дa?" He headed towards the living room and collapsed on the couch. He pretended to fall asleep before Irene could remind him his bed was upstairs. The girl sighed as she looked at the mess in the kitchen and slowly decided to go to her room and give in to her heavy eyelids.

"Why did point your gun at your own head?" he asked, surprising Irene

The teenager smiled "Because I knew you didn't want to see yourself get hurt."

"?"

"Good night." She wished

Irene sat down on her bed trying to stop thinking about the events that occurred just before. How long will it take for me to end up like that? Who will be there to help me? She reached for her new phone and dialed the only number registered. Please let him be awake, I need to hear someone's voice.

"Wei?"