A/N: …I think I had something I was intending to put here, but my brain totally just broke. XD Oops? Well, it could be worse. Possibly. Or not. Gah. XD

Episode 21: SEALAND! 8D I'm so excited~. First we got Canada-san and now Sealand! X3 That makes me very happy. Hopefully we'll have more Prussia soon than just a blip…

Yeah, so I'd had a skeleton of this fic lying around unfinished in one of my many lovely notebooks for a while, and I finally got around to it. :3 Definitely expect more oneshots and things soon! My Hetalia muse is doing cartwheels or something...it's so crazily energetic. owo;

Disclaimer: I don't own APH. DX -sigh-



-- Macabre --


The cold metal of the door knob bit his fingers, and Ivan almost turned away. It almost felt like it was warning him not to go in, because what he would find would make his chest ache. But he already well knew this; he knew every wrinkle and stain of it, and for that reason he slowly turned the knob.

"Toris…? Are you awake…?"

Hesitant, the Russian nudged through the door and peered inside to where a battered Lithuania lay on the bed. He was crumpled into a defensive ball, sleeping face screwed up in apparent agonized terror.

What a pretty face. What a pity it only relaxed around Poland, no matter how hard Russia tried to make his pulse stop racing with gentle touches. Was it such a surprise to Toris to be touched gently by him? Imagine!

Russia's eyes were heavy has the swept over Toris. Quivering in his dream, the brown haired man clutched at his blankets. Poor thing, Ivan blinked, silent and bewitched by the overwhelming desperation. Is every dream a nightmare for you anymore?

While Toris whimpered and thrashed about, his torture wouldn't seem to end. Biting nervously at his lip, Russia wondered if he ought to leave. But then, he supposed, his lovely little ragdoll would be left alone, and whether he knew someone had been there or not, that was far too sadistic a punishment even for Russia to give.

Ivan knew how scary alone could be.

It wasn't Toris' fault these nightmarish dreamscapes adored him so lately.

"Toris, why are you so sad…?" He mused, voice barely a whisper and fingers tingling as they longed to reach out and stir the shaking body. "Tell me how to fix you. …No, don't. I'm selfish and I want to keep you so porcelain and pretty, just like this…"

Toris was beautiful when he was scared out of his wits from the world around him and the one inside his head.

Ivan was ugly by the same reasons.

Sometimes he wished he could see the Lithuanian burn for this, to burn, burn, burn until he was charred into a helpless, but vengeful, breathing cadaver also.

He always felt awful after he realized he was thinking of things like that… So instead, Russia decided to keep being selfish and keep his porcelain, breakable doll as the doll he loved over all the others. There were none, after all, as endearing as Toris.

Toris was every pure thing that Ivan knew he would never be able to get back to himself, and he loved him for it. He broke him for it. I'll try not to be selfish, okay?

In all of Toris' running through his nightmare, his blanket had been thrown off. Russia took it and stared at it absently. "What happened to the happy dreams you told me about once? With your childhood? I would share my sunflowers with you, but…" Sadly, Ivan clutched the fabric in tight fingers like he was choking it before moving to drape it back over Toris' body. "Well, you like sunflowers? Maybe—"

"Ah!" A short screech broke through Lithuania's throat as his eyes snapped awake and he lurched backward in surprise. His dream monsters must have caught him at last.

Ivan jumped as well, embarrassed that Toris woke up in time to see him there. It had been awkward enough without him conscious. "Um…" He stammered, blinking. Mechanically, his fingers dropped the blanket. "Sorry." He didn't want Toris to think he was making a habit out of watching him while he was asleep or anything. (Although, he sort of was, but Toris didn't need to know that.) "I'll just…go away now, da?" Trying to smile warmly (but those sorts of smiles generally just didn't fit on his face), he backed away toward the door, giving a tiny, uncertain wave.

It's alright, my dear little Lithuania.

Not that you'd believe it coming from someone like me.

I understand.


Is it true that I'm the monster in you dreams? Sometimes it feels like it…

Vodka. Maybe he needed some vodka to stop his brain from quivering like this. Or was that his heart? He was getting them all mixed up…

Tomorrow perhaps I'll ask you about what sort of flowers you like, hm? Because monsters don't ask that sort of thing, right? I don't think they do…

I hope they don't.

But for now, vodka.

By the time Lithuania had scrambled up enough courage to ask him not to go away, to stay with him, he was already out of earshot.