Toris didn't really like Ivan. But he didn't exactly dislike him. He knew there was a genuinely kind country hidden beneath all of the bulkiness and generally terrifying aura surrounding him. He wasn't an inherently bad person, right? There was just...something wrong.

If I was Russia, I would probably act the same way he does. Always having to deal with the cold and the riots and the lack of food and so many other awful things, it had to be detrimental to Ivan's own health as he tried to take care of his people's health. Lithuania had been through some hard times, but his complaints paled in comparison to Ivan's.

Toris sighed, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders as he stepped into the bath, the warm water sending shivers up his spine. He sat down and let the water rush over his injuries, soothing the horrid aches he had been feeling all morning. He pulled his knees up to his chest(with some difficulty due to new chest aches) and rested his chin on them, staring down at his reflection in the water.

"Eeehhh...Don't look so sad, Toris..." He remarked at his own somber face, stirring up some of the water with his toes and distorting his reflection a little. "Russia's not gonna be home for most of the day." He didn't really know why he said that. Maybe to try and cheer himself up? If so, it wasn't really working. "And Estonia's been acting strange lately." Toris's voice echoed strangely against the water and the metal and the tiles in the bathroom. It was kind of soothing, talking to himself. But he didn't want to make a habit, lest he be caught doing it at a world meeting and make everyone think he's weird. Or did they already? He knew Natalia didn't like him, no she did not, but he wasn't sure about everyone else. He sighed. There was always too much time to think about things in the bathtub.

His mind wandered to himself, to the pain throbbing his skull and ribs and calves and every other part of his body. Even his old scars were hurting today, the little white lines and curved pink ones making made up shapes on his back tingling and burning along with the fire in his head. There were too many to keep track of. The scars cracked the otherwise flawless skin of the young nation, mostly confined to his back, where no one could see them. There were some deep ones along his ankles and wrists, but they were faded and old and only noticeable to people who knew they where there(i.e. Ivan, Raivis and Eduard, and maybe Alfred, he wasn't sure). His body was a map of the world, crisscrossing border lines and roads and latitude and longitude, all ingrained into his skin by one man.

The pain, the scars, the bleeding and bruising...He didn't mind it as much as his brothers did. Not to say he enjoyed it, though. It had just become such a normal thing, for Ivan to vent out his frustrations on him, that Toris had grown used to it and it no longer bothered him. It wasn't the abuse he endured, it was the reasons he was being abused he cared about. He was always curious why. Not in the "Why, WHY!" kind of way, but just...Why?

Sometimes it was because he was clumsy and spilled vodka or coffee on a nice rug. Or a broken dish in the kitchen or even an undusted bookshelf, once. Things a slave owner would beat their slaves for, without remorse, because they deserved it.

But Toris knew Ivan didn't consider him a slave. Because many of the scars and bruises came from bouts of fury and anger, alcohol fueled or no. And those almost always ended up with Ivan crying more than Toris, apologizing over and over again. And then Toris would forgive him and they would bandage the wounds and start over again.

Deep down, Toris knew Ivan needed him, if only to be a punching bag for his anger for a couple hours each week. He really wished he could change that.

"Keisti..." Change. Was Russia even capable of change, after seeing and enduring so many awful things? Soviets did not seem like the most open minded of people. He sighed. Closed his eyes. Tried to clear his mind. Think of different things.

'I love you.'

'No you don't.' He always wanted to say that. Every time.

'...Oh.' As if he didn't know it himself.

'Do you love me?'

'Not really, no.'

'Who, then?'

'...No one, really.'

'Oh.'

'...'

'Do you want to take a walk?'

'Where?'

'Somewhere nice.'

'...Okay.'

His emerald eyes cracked open again, staring at the ripples in the water, trying to understand why people would always compare Eduard's eyes to radiant pools of water. Water is clear...

He didn't know it was near the end of his stay; but there were never visitors this time of day. He was completely alone today. Toris answered the door to two dead-eyed women.

"Hello, Lithuania...Is Vanya home?"

"No, I'm sorry, Ukraine; Belarus. Are you okay? You both look pale."

Ukraine smiled a pained smile, an arm wrapping around Natalia and hugging her closer. "Do you know when he will be back? It's important." Toris frowned- something was missing, something was obvious that he didn't know. "Has something happened?"

"Shut up, Toris, let us in." Natalia snapped, prompting Toris to move aside and gesture them in. They stepped in, Ukraine's arm never moving from her sister's shoulders. She uttered a small thank you for the both of them and took a seat on the sitting room sofa, Natalia following her. "Do you have any idea when dear Vanya will be back?"

He blinked his eyes. "He should be back within an hour. Would you like something to eat? Drink?"

"Just water, would be fine, for the both of us..." Toris noticed Natalia had her head resting against her older sister and looked half asleep. Hard night? "Thank you, Toris." Natalia said weakly, before coughing.

"Vanya always speaks so fondly of you, it is easy to see why..." Ukraine whispered with a smile, to which Belarus grunted her disagreement.

When Russia arrived, Ukraine was in tears. Toris didn't want to seem rude, so he sat in the kitchen while the siblings spoke, most of the conversation consisting of Ukraine's frantic voice peppered with coughs from Belarus. He concentrated on the table beneath his hands. Something had gone wrong, but he couldn't hear what. As he sat there, thinking, Russia walked into the kitchen soon after the front door had slammed shut. How long have I been sitting here?"

"Ehm, Russia?" Lithuania said quietly to grab his attention, looking up at the man who was quietly sifting through the cupboards of non-perishable foods. "Yes?" "...What's wrong with Natalia and Katyushka?"

"There was a nuclear meltdown at Chernobyl. Katyushka is very sick, and Natalia seems to have caught it as well." Toris's eyes widened. They both had radiation poisoning? "When did this happen?" "Few days ago." "That's awful..." Was all he could say. What if the sickness falls to Russia next? Then what?

'Where are we going?'

'A lovely little town is preparing for a May Day festival.'

'But where?'

'Pripyat.'

'...It sounds nice.'

Ivan handed him a mask, which he put on without a word. They walked along the overgrown sidewalk in a suffocating silence, the air thick with fog despite being the middle of April.

"It doesn't matter." Russia said, almost cheerfully. "If my sisters die, I will be next. We are close after all," he grabbed an old bottle of reserved alcohol, not bothering to check the type, brand or date, "And it will all be okay." Toris didnt understand the smile on his face. How could he say such things with a straight up smile? His eyes, of course, were filled with pain. Toris's body ached. His head ached. Now his heart ached with pity towards this miserable country. Who's fault was this? It wasn't Ivan's, or Toris's, or Eduard's or Raivis's or Katyushka's. Why did Russia hog all the sadness?

'I want everyone else to be happy. That makes me happy, taking all of the sadness so you don't have to bear it.' Of course, that wasn't physically possible for one man to do such a thing. It hurts sanity, to think in such ways. 'It will make you all come to me and become one with me."

They passed abandoned hotels, pools of murky water, a desolate playground still fresh with footprints of children in the sand. There was no wind to blow anything away. It was stagnant here. Toris asked why.

'I have been working on this for a long time. It's a Soviet pride and joy...' The epitome of their Revolution thus far. A city of working men, a city of happy men and their happy children, sharing everything with eachother and never being selfish pigs like those capitalists they were brought up to resent. It was beautiful, wasn't it?

Toris said nothing, only walked through the sand and approached a squeaking, rusty swing. There was a small toy car resting in the seat, crusted with dried up sand, paint weary from so much use. Abandoned. Toris dared not sit on the swing, less it break and disturb the wasteland. He just stared at the toy through the foggy holes in his mask.

"Its not okay." Lithuania said after a moment that seemed like a lifetime. "It wouldn't make anyone happy of you died, you know."

Ivan laughed at that.

Russia approached him from behind. 'Do you like it?' He asked, wrapping his large arms around the frailer country.

'No.' He always wanted to say.

And alien face rested on his shoulder, Ivan's breathing awkward sounding through the filters on his own mask.

'This is why you're sad all the time, Ivan.'

"If I go, you can finally leave and go live with Poland."

"What makes you think-"

"I know you like him better than me." What a childish thing to say.

Maybe he was just suffering from an extreme case of Stockholm Syndrome, but he couldnt really remember, nor imagine, a life without Russia. That brief moment of independence he had, so long ago- he couldn't remember what that felt like. Was it good, bring independent? Scary? The world seemed scary without a Russia behind him.

"That's not true," He said, finally.

They continued walking. The power plant loomed over them from behind, a large ferris wheel trying to match it in height from in front of them and almost seemed to succeed. It was like a large monument of failure.

'I love ferris wheels.' Ivan said quietly. Toris couldn't say the same. They went too high for him to feel safe. This one, especially- it seemed to touch the clouds, go past them, fly with the birds nested in it's many deserted seats.

"Oh?" Ivan sounded surprised and doubtful. And still had those sad eyes and fake smile.

"Yes." Toris mumbled. "You may think I'm lying, but...I like living with you, Ivan." Toris gave him a smile, tinted with happiness, but also with pity and sadness. Ivan blinked his eyes. "I like how much you care about me. Feliks cares about himself too much." If he were ever to say that aloud to the other nation, there would be hell to pay in the form of intense cat fights and sobbing. Toris had himself convinced by now- Ivan hurt him because he cared about him. He wanted Lithuania to be a good country. To be apart of the biggest, strongest country.

They passed bumper cars that housed only rats- though maybe not, unless they were radiation-resistant little things. Everything was so quiet. Not even their feet made sound.

"You like me." It didn't seem like a question, nor a statement. Just a few words set loose in the air. Toris didn't know if he should not or just shake his head and pretend he said nothing. So he stayed still. The smile on Ivan's face softened.

"I have to call my boss." He said quietly.

Toris just nodded.

Suddenly there was no sound because they had stopped moving. They stood in the middle of ruins, papers and books scattered and burned amidst broken furniture and forgotten belongings. White walls. Like a hospital, but less cleanly. Russia had his arms around Lithuania. And he was crying. Toris could feel the tears on his shoulder, they were so heavy and sad.

'Why did this happen?'

Toris didn't know.

Ivan felt responsible. 'Everyone is dead here...'

'I know.'

'Is it my fault?'

Pause.

'No.'

Ivan's breath was ragged. He had shed his mask some time when Toris couldn't remember, and took his with it. But his breath still sounded muffled and filtered.

'No one is here anymore.'

'We are here.'

'...You are all I have.'

Toris could feel his eyes water as well.

'And you want to leave me here alone, too.'

Slowly, he brought his arms up and embraced Russia closer to him, heart breaking with each moment that ceased to exist, with each breath Ivan took and each tear Ivan. 'Never.'

This would have been up days ago, but FFnet wouldn't let me log in. Stupid newfangled technology. Anyway, hope this wasn't too confusing with the italics and everything. If you couldn't tell, they're a bit seperate from the overall narrative. xD I don't exactly know if they're dreams, visions, flash-forwards, or what...guess you can decide for yourself, ne? :D

Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be up sooner than this one was! c: R&R please!