Well hey there! It's me again, but a few things have changed since you last saw me.

I'm sitting in my college dorm room, and guess what? I'm going to NDK! (Provided I can get a ride…) I'll be going as Hungary in her red skirt~

Give me a shout if you see me!

Definite "T" rating in this chapter, also.

I do not own Hetalia.

-X-

If the journey to the awful camp seemed long, it was nothing like what Elizaveta was feeling now. The trek out stretched on, sure enough, but it was the first glimpse of freedom she had since arriving at Roderich's home.

Elizaveta was terrified. The steed was slowly becoming fatigued, and the blossom of red on Roderich's coat continued to spread, staining her, as well. She never got to dress his wound, so focused was she on getting him out of that accused place. But now she was truly afraid, that for once her rash actions had cost her something dearly. She always acted before giving the repercussions a single thought. Never before had they held such a heavy weight—and loss.

Elizaveta shook herself out of her spiraling despair. Roderich was still alive, though only barely. His already pale skin was now a shocking alabaster, bleached even more by the pale light of the indifferent moon. Every time he began to slide off the galloping stallion, Elizaveta would tighten her arms around him and lean forward, pinning him to the horse's muscular neck.

Finally, a ghostly shape appeared ahead of the miserable party. Never before had Elizaveta been so happy to see her once-prison.

She released the reins, wrapped her arms around Roderich's limp form, and dropped to the ground all before the steed came to a complete halt. Trusting the exhausted equine to see himself to the stable for a well-deserved rest, Elizaveta dashed inside, half-dragging Roderich to the first room she could reach—hers.

"Betta!" Elizaveta halted suddenly, both terrified and elated at the small voice calling for her.

"Feliciano?" Elizaveta found the little Italian running toward her as he wrapped his chubby arms around her leg.

"You're back!" He hiccupped. "I was so afraid, Betta!" He continued to sniffle, almost hysterically.

Though she felt for the young one, her kicsi, Roderich needed her now. "Feli? Feli, my little one, you must go get bandages, do you understand? You must be brave, kicsi."

Feliciano looked up at her with fear and wonder, seemingly at a loss. But then his gaze grew into what for him would be considered fierce, and with one long look at the unconscious Roderich, he nodded solemnly and scurried off.

Her heart filled with wild pride for little Feliciano, Elizaveta turned once more toward her room. She set Roderich down on her bed as gently as possible, horrified his motionlessness. Stopping only to remove her own heavy jacket, Elizaveta then bent down to tend to the injured man before her.

She carefully slid off his ruined overcoat, being excruciatingly careful not to jar his wound. His collared shirt was harder to remove. The thin silk was plastered to his body from the blood, and the parts that had dried clung to the shirt like glue.

Elizaveta quickly ran to her tiny closet and tore it apart looking for her sewing scissors. She finally unearthed them and rushed back to Roderich's side. The fine material cut easily, Elizaveta noted absently and with relief. She tossed the discarded thin strips onto the floor, some of them white, some red, and some a messy, spattered collage of both.

With Roderich's top completely gone, Elizaveta began to dress his nightmarish wound. Using water from her basin on her dresser and one of her nightgowns, Elizaveta cleaned in and around the gaping hole, and, with no small difficulty, managed to flip him over to finish the other side.

Feliciano came back into the room, then, bandages in hand. His lower lip was trembling; never before had he seen so much blood. It was his first look into the cruelties Elizaveta had tried so hard to hide from him.

She took the cloths from Feliciano's tiny hands, giving them a small squeeze of reassurance, and wrapped Roderich's torso to prevent more blood from escaping.

Left Roderich laying on his stomach and pulled the sheets over him. Gathering the soiled clothes and murky pink water basin, Elizaveta turned to leave for fresh supplies.

Feliciano stared up at her, a blankness in his eyes that made her want to cry. She bent down so she could look at him squarely and said, "Feli, I know it's unfair for me to ask, but could you stay here with Mr. Edelstein? He needs someone here. I won't be long; I'm just getting more bandages for him." She was unsure of how he would react.

Feliciano nodded, tears pooling in his gorgeous amber eyes. "I'll help Mr. Austria. Just like I helped Grampa, but this time it will be different. Because Mr. Austria will live, right? He'll live, won't he, Betta?"

This time, Elizaveta couldn't keep the tears at bay. To hide them, Elizaveta squashed Feliciano in a tight hug. Why? Why had her little kicsi seen these horrors before? And worse, she did not know. She thought she knew everything about her little one, but he was brave enough and strong enough to hide this from her. But why? He shouldn't have to. He should be able to live the beautiful, carefree life he deserved. But it was a life she could not give him. She wasn't strong enough. The world, in all its cruelties, kept her kicsi from finding happiness. She was small. Weak and at the mercy of powerful tyrants like Sadiq, who would readily destroy everything she loved and rule over anything left with a cruel, merciless fist.

"Yes, kicsi," Elizaveta whispered. "He will live." She shut her eyes tightly, dispelling the last drops of moisture. Feliciano patted her back gently, acknowledging the pain they shared.

Elizaveta stood, and picked up the things she dropped. With one last smile at Feliciano, she turned, but her heart stopped at the sound of her name.

"E-Elizaveta…?" It was a coarse, weak whisper, and if the mansion wasn't so deathly silent, Elizaveta would have never heard it.

"R-Mr. Edelstein!" She pivoted sharply, sloshing the tainted water onto the marble floor.

"No! Don't get up!" She yelled at him, for he had indeed tried to sit up from his position on his stomach.

He fell back down, and grunted from the extra pressure.

"Elizaveta…"

"No, just stay there, R-Mr. Edelstein." Her heart was pounding, and oddly fluttery, so shocked was she that he had used her first name. Then again, she thought with a sudden epiphany, he had been using her first name for a while now. Why hadn't she noticed until now…?

"Elizaveta," Roderich whispered, louder this time.

"I'll be right back!" She all but shouted, exiting the room.

Roderich sighed, and relaxed into a more comfortable position.

"Mr. Austria?" Little Feliciano said, hesitant. Roderich's lips curved upward slightly at Feliciano's nickname for him. Now was not the time for a lecture in propriety.

Roderich looked at the little Italian as a gesture for him to continue.

"Umm…" He looked very unsure of himself.

"What is it?" Roderich was genuinely curious; Feliciano didn't often address him directly. In fact, this was the first time he had done so, Roderich realized, surprised, and just a little but disgusted with himself. Had he really been so distant? Of course he had been; he had made a point of it.

"I just…" He gulped, and finding his resolve somewhere, all but shouted, "Betta was really worried about you! But she's too afraid to say so!" This seemed to take a lot of effort, and Feliciano blushed deep red like he always did when he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

Roderich blinked, shocked. "She's…afraid of me?" That hurt more than the gaping hole in his chest.

Feliciano shook his head roughly, looking distressed. "She's not afraid of you! She's afraid of what she'll be like if she lets herself worry." His eyes were wide as they pleaded for Roderich to understand.

"Afraid of worrying." Roderich's thoughts drifted. Of course he could understand. By maintaining a safe distance, the danger of seeming weak is nullified. He did the same thing, of course. He distanced himself from Elizaveta to protect her, but only earned her hatred. What did she distance herself from? Something to keep her from worrying. She certainly didn't keep her distance from Feliciano: they were as close as mother and child. Then who?

"She doesn't hate you, Mr. Austria."

Roderich was shocked out of his reverie.

"What?"

"Betta doesn't hate you."

Roderich blinked again at the Italian's bluntness. Was this wisdom?

Roderich chuckled darkly. "Even if that was true, I wouldn't deserve any less."

Feliciano shook his head defiantly and said, "That's not true."

Puzzled, Roderich sank again into thought, and somewhere in the back of his mind, cherished the thought that the woman he loved didn't hate him and maybe even worried about him.

If only…

-X-

Elizaveta clipped over the solid marble toward the kitchen and dumped the filthy rags into the wash basket. After dumping the waste water outside, went back in and opened the pantry for fresh linens.

A black shadow filled her vision. Funny, she thought, the closet was dark, but never so dark she couldn't see. The shadow shifted, wafting a putrid, sweet aroma toward her.

Elizaveta froze, rooted to the spot with pure unadulterated fear.

"I thank you for leaving the door open, sweetheart. I would have had a hard time finding my way in, otherwise." Sadiq emerged from the pantry, his entire form the shadow Elizaveta saw.

Feeling her stomach drop to her feet, Elizaveta vaguely recalled not shutting the secret door all the way in her rush to catch up with Roderich's troops.

Smirking, Sadiq offered a tulip to her. Adrenalin spiked in her system, making her heart pound and her blood run hot. She whipped around and grabbed one of the many frying pans from the spot where they hung on the wall, and impacted the flat side into Sadiq's temple.

Because of their drastic height difference, the impact didn't have nearly the effect she thought it would. Sadiq staggered a bit, though, and Elizaveta readied herself for another blow.

She wouldn't run; she wouldn't hide. She was done with those things.

Sadiq stumbled a few more steps, and then shook his head, dispelling the last effects of Elizaveta's frying pan.

He turned and glared at her savagely, undisguised hatred in his eyes. He came at her like a bull, and unable to fight his brute force and strength, Elizaveta fell as he collided with her, and her skull cracked against the stone floor, making her lose her senses for a moment.

Still dizzy, Elizaveta could feel Sadiq's crushing weight on top of her, and his meaty hands on her shoulders, shaking her senselessly.

"You listen to me, bitch," Sadiq snarled. "I came for one purpose: to get revenge on that bastard, Roderich. And no Hungarian whore is going to get in my way, got it?"

Her eyes sparkling with fury, Elizaveta spat back, "Revenge? For what? And how in Hell am I your best way to achieve that?"

At this Sadiq laughed, coldly, maliciously. "Are you really that stupid? Can you not see the way he looks at you? Though," he chuckled mirthlessly. "Most men do."

At this, he dragged his hands down from her shoulders to her hips, and lingered there. Elizaveta squirmed futilely, struggling against his superior strength.

Elizaveta fought at the angry tears pooling. Men always took what they wanted. Always. They saw it, and took it. There were no exceptions.

But there was. And he was in her bed, bleeding, dying.

Elizaveta gathered every ounce of her strength, and with newfound ferocity, curled her legs up under Sadiq and drove her boots into the delicate part of his chest. Rolling backward, she grabbed her frying pan once more and leapt forward to attack.

Because there was an exception.

-X-

Phew! After nearly two months of procrastination, I got this done in one sitting.

Mwaha.

-Mr. Austria is Feliciano's nickname for Roderich because, obviously, that's where he is from. Just a little bit of reminiscent cuteness from our favorite Chibitalia~

Maybe I'll get the next chapter up sooner, since I'm all motivated. I'm even wearing my flower behind my ear for inspiration~

I may be starting another story soon, but it will likely be a one-shot, or at least fairly short.

Until next time!

Always,

~Kaiya