Alright Dear Readers,

Here is the long awaited ending to 'What Happened to Lithuania?'. I am trying to finish up some stories first, before taking in new requests. I have seen the Romerica one, I will do it. I have also seen some calls for a UKUS one-shot series. I will also get to that. I just need to gets some of these done. You have all been very patient. Thank you. :)

I own nothing. I earn nothing from this.

Enjoy!

OoOoOo

As horrified as Russia had been, it did not stop him -in the slightest- from trying to get Lithuania to take Belarus as well. He knew that America once had legal polygamy. Surely she could make an exception and allow Lithuania to have another wife.

America had not been amused.

She slammed the door in his face, after insisting that Lithuania live with her during the duration of her pregnancy. Russia might have argued, but... America was pregnant. Russia would not touch her. He was not a monster. Even if the swell of her stomach reminded him of the fact that Belarus would never now get with Lithuania. Well, perhaps not never. They were nations, things changed nearly over night.

He had mentioned as much the next time, before throwing a rolling pin at him really hard. It had missed. Narrowly. Alright, he allowed that maybe he had deserved that one. Her aim was off, as was her balance. Lithuania had mentioned that it was harder for America to concentrate, what with the fall heat. One of the hottest on record.

Russia had suggested that perhaps she slow down on her 'eating for two'.

That also had not amused America.

She glared at him balefully. Before swearing to call the U.N. on him if he didn't go home. The Slavic nation did not want to go home. America had given Belarus ideas. About children. The star-spangled air-head had no idea what the meant for Russia.

Or how even his strongest locks would not deter his dear... little stalker.

Sister. He meant sister.

However, when Lithuania came simply to speak over the arrangements of what would happen before and after his child's birth, Russia had an excellent idea. One that made complete sense and would allow for closer relations between himself and America.

Russia had trying to sneak in with the last of Lithuania's things. America plucked him away from the door with ease. Her larger midsection protruded proudly. He cursed her a thousand times over in his head. Lithuania had grown much bolder now that he had sired America's brat. Lithuania actually glared at Russia, when he thought the larger nation wasn't looking.

Which he always was.

Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, America had actually be rather polite to him. She'd never given a social rudeness toward the Slavic nation. She had even made sure to give him a small gift, likely to get him to leave.

It did not work, but the thought was very nice. He'd never tell her that, but it was nice.

As the months passed, Russia staying near or showing up at her house became rather common place. So had the threatening calls from Belarus, and the sweetness that Lithuania seemed to exude around an equally starry-eyed America.

It was almost enough to make the Slavic nation consider going home. Almost, being the operative word.

Lithuania had actually taken to pulling out America's chairs at the meetings. Their hands often intertwined, even when their were other nations watching. Lithuania puffed out his chest proudly whenever America grabbed his hand to place it over the swell of her midsection. They shared a special look, that left the star-spangled nation glowing with maternal pride, when their child moved.

Often America was nowhere without her gentle but tender counterpart. They spoke in hushed and excited tones when other walked by. Russia was forced to strain to hear most of what they said. Eventually America always found him, and scolded him into lifting something heavy for her into the nursery.

The massive nursery that had to be painted by Lithuania, in the style of his traditional art. Something that made the male nation beam at America over and over again. They bowed their heads together over baby name books.

Russia thought that was ridiculous. Just pick a name for the child. Why turn to others for your own child?

Still, life moved on. Belarus grew increasingly more agitated by Russia's absence. He only knew that because Ukraine and the Baltics would call him from time to time. At America's house. Which she groused at him for.

However, it was very light hearted compared to before. The larger nation thought, briefly, that motherhood had mellowed her out considerably. Which was good.

It would have been better had it not been the nation he'd hoped would turn Belarus' gaze from him. That would have been wonderful. Russia would have thrown the American brat a huge celebration for that.

Well, not really, but he might have thought about it.

While Latvia waived at Lithuania happily and Estonia actually congratulated his Baltic neighbor at every meeting, Russia was trying to keep his pants and sanity intact.

Everything came to a head, when Belarus -who was tired of being ignored- showed up at America's house, in the Spring. Perhaps mere days from when the child was due. Lithuania had been called away on business, and between affectionate kisses that still made the Baltic blush, he'd promised to return as soon as she could.

America had been in the kitchen, making a nice apple pie-likely to remind Russia he was in U.S. still- when a knock had sounded at her front door.

Russia had tried to stop her from answering it.

"Russia," she said with exasperation as she wiped the flour off of her hands and onto her apron. "Go home."

His violet eyes narrowed out of reflex.

"I cannot America, comrade-"

"I'm not your comrade." She replied testily.

Ah. The hormones again. Russia had become accustomed to this.

"We are not going to let her in," he said firmly.

"Her?"

"Belarus."

"You don't know it's Belarus."

"I most certainly do." Russia said with conviction, and he did. He could sense her.

"Then just let her in for a moment-"

"Impossible!"

"Russia, really..."

"You cannot fully comprehend what you are suggesting."

"Are you afraid of your little sister?"

The Slavic nation refused to answer. He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

America gave him a strange look and her face twisted up for a moment. He blinked at her.

"Belarus is behind that door, right?"

"Da."

"Let her in."

He shook his head adamantly.

"Ny-"

"I said let her in you dumb bastard!" America roared so loudly, that Russia felt his hair ruffle from the force she generated. Then she gripped her midsection tightly. "And tell her to boil some damn water."

His eyes widened comically with horror.

"Are you-?"

"What do you think, jackass?" America snarled in pain. "That I'm doing this for my health?"

Russia's hands flew up, and he made a 'wait here' gesture. "I will be right back."

America blinked at him, a look on her face that suggested she as three seconds away from strangling him with his own tie.

"Yeah. I'll be here." She commented with sarcasm and distain. She took a deep breath as she listened to Russia all but bolt from the room.

There was the sounds of a door opening. Yelling. A lot of yelling, and then her name being repeated. America took another breath as a wave of pain radiated from inside her abdomen. Some instinct warned her that this was going to happen, and it was happening fast.

Something shattered in her hallway, and she hoped it wasn't something irreplaceable. Otherwise after she had this baby, she was kicking someone's ass. Because she was in pain, and... where the hell was Belarus?!

"Belarus?!" America bellowed out, ignoring the fact that the pie filling was burning on the stove by now.

As if summoned by magic, the pale-haired woman walked through the kitchen door. Her emotionless eyes took in the scene quickly.

"It is time?"

"Yeah," America said, gripping the edge of the counter for support. "It's time."

The other nation nodded, and began searching for pots.

"Second cabinet, by the sink." the laboring female said quickly, before gasping. Belarus found it easily, and grabbed the largest one.

"What should I do?" Russia's voice called through the door, accent heavy but his tone was greatly subdued.

"Help me upstairs," America said with a whimper of pain.

"Up the stairs?" The male repeated, as if he thought it was an awful suggestion.

If Texas hadn't been in the way, America was certain she could have bored a hole through the door with sheer irritation alone.

"Yes, where the bed is. I'm having a baby!" She said through her teeth.

Russia moved into the kitchen and picked America up gently.

"Drop me, and I'll kill you," she muttered as she braced herself for another contraction. She gasped and gripped onto Russia tightly. She could sense the atmosphere in the room drop by ten degrees. And, she was not putting up with it today!

It was a happy day, damn it!

"Do not-"

Her head turned toward Belarus quickly, and the expression he had was enough to frighten event he extreme Slavic nation.

"I'm. Having. A. Baby." America hissed and it caused the other female nation to nod quickly. "Go get fresh linens, they are in the closet. Upstairs. Get the water hot and meet me there. Am I understood?"

Belarus nodded, and pinned up her hair, setting to get the necessary items. She even made certain to sterilize a pair of scissors for cutting the umbilical cord.

Russia lumbered up the steps two at a time, even as America nearly cut off the circulation in his arm. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain.

"Call Lithuania."

Russia turned to go do just that. Clearly frazzled.

"After you put me down in the bed!" America said with a bit of fatigue in her voice. "Then you can go call Lithuania."

Russia blinked nervous violet eyes at her. "I have never done this before," he defended half-heartedly.

"Yeah, well...neither have I." She admitted and it was then that the pair came to an understanding.

This was weird and they would never speak of it ever again. However, first there was the matter of bringing a child into the world. Russia kicked open the bedroom door, and laid her down gently. He looked down at her, watching as America adjusted herself to a more comfortable position. He also saw the way her stomach tightened in a way that looked... painful.

His suspicions were confirmed by her pained grunt.

America glanced up at him, her blue eyes slightly glazed behind Texas.

"Russia?"

"Da?!" He responded quickly.

"Go call Lithuania." She reminded him, with a wan smile.

He turned and his heel and ran to do just that. As soon as he dialed the number, he saw Belarus rushing up the stairs with towels over one arm, and the large pot in both hands. He could only watch as his little sister closed the bedroom door.

OoOoOo

Lithuania burst through the door, his hair a mess and it looked as if he'd met with a ghost, as pale as he was. He ran up the steps, hearing the pained yells of America.

Cursing at him... in so many languages that he lost track.

He reached the top of the stairs, to see a horrified Russia staring at the bedroom door with his mouth agape.

"Is Belarus killing her?" Lithuania demanded, throwing caution to the wind over his concern for love and child.

"I am... not certain..." The larger nation responded in a dazed fashion. "I did not want to look."

Lithuania flushed to the roots of his hair. Russia was correct. It was a very private moment, and it should not be viewed by Mr. Russia. The very idea made Lithuania upset. He started pacing.

"Can I go in?"

"I do not know."

"Should I knock?"

"I do not know."

Lithuania's hand trembled slightly as he reached to rap lightly on the painted wood door. No one responded to him. He tried again.

"We are a bit busy in here," Belarus' voice rang out clearly.

"LITHUANIA!" America screamed hoarsely.

"I am here!" He called out, looking nervous and ready to fight all in the same instant. He was stuck in-between what to do, akin to a startled deer.

"I will kill you!" America barked and though he could not see her, Lithuania flinched back.

"I got here as soon as I could. America, I promise. I-"

"YOU did this to me!"

Russia clapped a hand on his shoulder, still looking horrified.

"I hear that many women say that, but they never carry through... but this is America..." He trailed off.

Lithuania swallowed nervously. His hands fisted at his sides. He was going to go in and calm America down. She needed him.

Just as his hand grasped around the handle, he heard the sharp cry of an infant.

His green eyes widened, as a resounding 'thud' was heard. He peered over his shoulder, to see that Mr. Russia had fainted.

OoOoOo

"Belarus?" America questioned softly, her eyes still focused on the near perfect replica of Lithuania in her arms. Well, if Lithuania looked like a fat, wrinkly, old man.

But he did have his father's nose and strong chin. Lithuania was currently dragging an unconscious Russia to a nearby chair.

The pale haired nation turned toward America, stopping her fretting over her older brother momentarily.

"Yes?" The woman looked serene, despite being threatened six-ways from Sunday by America if anything happened to the baby.

It had been enough to actually make Belarus respect the star-spangled nation for her detailed forms of tortures she would perform if she had to.

"I want you to be his Godmother," America offered with a sincere smile.

Belarus stilled, her normally pale cheeks heated up to a soft sort of glow.

"And, we can make Mr. Russia the Godfather," Lithuania interjected, with a scheming look directed at America.

His love smiled, as she watched the wheels in Belarus' head turn.

"Why yes, what a great idea!" America exclaimed. "It will be just like a marriage... of sorts."

The knife wielding nation appeared close to tears of joy, as she carefully nodded to America and out of nowhere seemed to produce a little stuffed rabbit for Lithuania's son.

America gave Lithuania a look that spoke volumes. 'You're wicked', it said.

Lithuania returned her glance with a one of his own.

'I know.'

Russia moaned in terror in his unconscious state.

OoOoOo

A little boy with brown hair, and bright blue eyes walked along side his parents. He was precocious and gifted at fighting, though his father always denied teaching him. His mother knew better though. Perhaps his eyes were more hazel than blue, for they did have some brown and green flecks in them.

However, he was dearly loved and he knew it.

As close as he was to his Mother, his Godmother Belarus often coaxed him onto her lap and called to his Grandfather Russia to come play with 'their boy'.

America rescued her son more than once, when Russia ran off as quickly as he could, and Belarus forgot she was holding America's son. Through it all though, Lithuania remained smiling and proud as he wrapped his arms around his family in a hug. A sweet kiss was exchanged between America and Lithuania.

Finally, he was able to stay with his little slice of heaven.