Hey, guys! So... I didn't really expect to update this right now, but I managed to get this written and revised, so, here you go.

This installment once again focuses on Russia, although it takes place chronologically before the previous oneshot. So yeah.

Russia stared at the gun in his hand and remembered the last person it had killed.

That person was not dead, but he had been killed. It did not make sense even to him, but he knew that it was true. There was death without death for them, and so dying accomplished nothing. His wish to die was pointless, for his death could accomplish nothing. Dying did nothing except hurt him for a moment. Then he would sink into a nightmare, and when he woke from the nightmare, he would live again in a cold, cruel world.

He wondered how many times he would see them in the nightmare. He wondered how many times he would see the children he had murdered.

Toris murdered himself, didn't he? It wasn't my fault, was it? It can't be my fault… Nyet, but it was my fault. I drove him to it. I hurt him and I drove him so far that he could not think anymore, and so he killed himself.

His only friend had killed himself with this very gun, and although Lithuania was not dead, he knew that that changes nothing. I murdered him. That is all. I murdered him. Whether or not he is immortal, that does not matter. I murdered him. I murdered them all.

He had been alone for far too long, he supposed, if he was thinking of this even now, staring at a gun with which he planned to shoot himself. But he had nothing else to think about. His family-they were never a family, you do not have the right to think of them as a family-was gone. They had deserted him, as they had every right to.

He had no one but himself to blame for his loneliness, but still, it hurt, and still, he longed for companionship, for warmth, for life.

He found himself daydreaming of Lithuania, dreaming of going to the boy's house. He could go there, he could easily break in… And then I could bring my Litva back to live with me! Da, it will be better if Lithuania comes back to me. Lithuania belongs with… No. No!

He shoved the gun against his temple, heart pounding, violet eyes wide, staring into the mirror and seeing not a child's face, but the face of a monster.

I'm a monster I'm a monster I murdered him and I can't ever have him back how could I even think that…?

"How could I think that?" he whispered. "How could I… How could I even consider forcing him to come back. I… I would be crushing him. It would be too cruel… I cannot do that to him! I cannot let myself be thinking it. I…"

…Am so tired of having this loneliness. I want Litva back. Come back, Toris! Don't leave me alone!

He could have sworn that he saw Lithuania falling to the ground with a smile, sunshine in his eyes a few seconds…

The image shattered when Lithuania hit the ground, and Russia did not understand. But he thought that there might be truth in the hallucination, that perhaps Lithuania would only be happy when he was free of me. I murdered him. I murdered him and I do not deserve to live, but I want him back so much… Toris, come back!

"No…" he whimpered, staring at the monster in his mirror. The image flashed back and forth; he was Ivan no longer. He was now a nameless monster, something even more depraved and evil than even Russia could be. He was a creature of evil, he had done terrible things, and I murdered my best friend I am a monster I deserve to die someone kill me…

The gun was still pressed against his temple, cold against his shaking body, and he wondered if this was how Lithuania had felt, pulling the trigger on himself. But no, he knew that Lithuania had not been afraid. Lithuania had been glad to end the pain, and there had been no fear in the Baltic's broken laughter.

"I'm sorry," Russia whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kill you…"

You meant it. When you broke him, you meant to. You meant to break all of them. You…

A whispering ghost of the boy named Toris was there now, standing behind him, covered in blood, and Russia cannot look at him.

"You killed me, Ivan," said the ghost-Lithuania. "You killed me."

"I know!" he wailed. "I know, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Litva, I'm really, really sorry!"

"But it's too late," said Estonia's voice. He was standing behind the mirror-inside the mirror?-his own gun pointed at his head, mirroring Russia. "It's far too late for me… For Toris… for Raivis… It's too late for all of us… And it's all your fault."

Russia started to cry. Please stop. Do not do this to me again. I'm sorry…

"Mr. Russia?"

He whirled round, looking for Latvia, saw the little boy sitting on the floor, crying, blood and tears mingling on his face. The tiny child's hands were crushed, and I remember that when I beat him to death. He would not scream. My little Raivis would not scream…

"It r-really hurts," Latvia whimpered. "It doesn't ever stop hurting. Why'd you do it, Mr. Russia? Why'd you do this to us?"

"I don't know!" he wailed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I really didn't, please…"

"Big brother."

No no no please no…

Belarus faced him, her knife drawn. Ukraine had joined Estonia in the mirror, tears on her face, blood dripping down her arm onto the floor.

"You couldn't stop with the Baltics, could you?" his sisters said. "You couldn't stop with the others. It wasn't enough to hurt your comrades, your 'friends'. You had to kill us, too."

Belarus was crying. That scared Russia far more than seeing Ukraine cry. His big sister always cried. Belarus never cried until I hurt Toris. She loved him and it is all my fault that they will never be together…

"You murdered everyone," said the broken, shattered phantoms that had been his family. "You killed us. You… How could you?"

"I d-don't know!" Russia screamed. "Stop! Leave me alone! You're not real! You left me, you're not real!"

"We'll never leave you," Lithuania said. His wrists were bleeding now, and Russia did not understand that, did not understand why his family's wounds would not heal.

"We'll always be trapped inside the mansion," Estonia said. "We can't leave it behind. You made sure of that, Mr. Russia. You made sure we could never get better."

"It still hurts," Latvia whimpered.

Ukraine cried. Belarus took her knife and stabbed it into Lithuania's chest and she stabbed him in real life trying to kill me, why didn't I just let her kill me…?

I need to die.

"Yes," said Estonia, and Russia wondered how the boy could possibly have heard his thoughts. "You do need to die. You killed us all. Die, Russia. I hate you."

I hate me too, Eduard, I hate me too and I know I want to die but… I deserve it! I deserve to die, I need to die…

THEN DIE!

Latvia had picked up his discarded gun, crushed fingers running across the weapon's metal surface. The little boy cried softly, his sobs pleading and agonized, and Russia reached down, took the gun from the sobbing Latvian's hands, and turned toward the mirror.

For a moment, he paused, looking back into the shattered world that he knew must be a hallucination. He looked into the eyes of each of his family members, and saw in those eyes pain, sorrow, and insanity, all caused by me.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I never meant for it to be coming to this."

He lifted the gun to his head, and for a few seconds, he waited for Lithuania to save him. But the boy did not move, instead Toris don't die, please, I'm trying to make it better… Don't die! Wake up!

Latvia's sobs grew hysterical. In the mirror, Estonia was laughing. Ukraine was gone. Estonia, did you kill her? I thought you… I don't know. None of it makes sense, and it's all my fault.

Belarus looked at him with hatred in his eyes, and, with quiet anger, murmured, "Go die, big brother. I hate you for what you did to us."

He turned to the mirror again, and for a brief moment, Estonia was gone, and he saw only a monster in the glass. This was a monster that he recognized, and yet, it was a monster that was utterly foreign to him.

This monster's name was Ivan Braginsky, otherwise known as the personification of Russia, once the world's greatest nation, now broken and shattered and… How can I be this lonely? It's not fair. But it is what I am deserving. I have always deserved it.

This monster had murdered his family.

This monster deserved to die.

Russia sobbed as he pulled the trigger, crying because he knew that his attempt to destroy the monster had already failed.

Eheheh... I hope that was all right. I don't write hallucinations much, particularly not coupled with suicide attempts, so this was a little tricky. Still, writing Russia is a lot of fun.

It's my personal belief that while he was trying to recover his sanity after the USSR broke up, Russia became severely depressed and quite probably suicidal. This is also sort of based off of the one scene in Written in Blood where he tells Lithuania that he too has thought about or attempted suicide. So yeah. I...really cannot say anything else, except I hope you enjoyed this! (Even though it's sad.)