A/N: Uh. I'm offering you a different take on Finland? -stares at the fic- And by different, I mean... very different.

Title: Edge of Sanity

Words: 13,514

Summary: He can be just as insane as other nations but only very few realize this.

Rating: M

Characters: Finland, Sweden, Russia (these three are the main ones), Estonia, Belarus, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, England, France, America, Germany + a very brief mention of Prussia

Pairings: SuFin (maybe onesided?), RusFin (not exactly very happy couple), friendship!EstFin + perhaps a few other crack pairings if you wish to view them like that

Warnings: Insane!Finland / Dark!Finland, Dark!Russia (kinda?), violence, blood, sex, OOCness (probably?), lots of angst, few not-so-unhappy moments that aren't necessarily happy, historical characters you might now know

Note: Not all of the references to history are necessarily true. Most of them are, but not all of them. Speaking of historical facts, this fic includes so much of them so I won't be putting them here. If you want to know more about something, feel free to ask me or google it.

Also, please do tell me what you honestly think. I'm feeling kind of wary about publishing this and I'd really appreciate reviews that don't just say "this sucks" or "this is too angsty" or "this is awesome" without anything to back up that claim.

Feel free to tell me about anything you dislike or like about this fic :)

And, by the way -

this - means either emphasized sentence or Tino's thoughts / memories (my italics are very confusing in this fic, so feel free to ask about it)

this - means emphasized words

"this" - means somebody is talking

Translations are at the end of this fic.

They always think he is a happy, innocent Finland.

That he has always been happy and innocent.

That he loves Sweden from the bottom of his heart.

That he has no darkness in his heart like other nations do.

They are all so wrong about him, about everything they think they know of him.

He has darkness etched deep into his heart, but no one realizes this when they see his angelic smile and kind nature.

First impressions – or second, third, fourth or fifty-fifth – aren't always right.

Deep inside, he is just like every other nation – drenched in blood and hatred.

~.~

He remembers being happy back then, when he was just a toddler and barely able to talk.

The small, weak child that he was had been deeply cared for by his people and the child had learnt to smile and laugh with them.

They also taught him to respect nature and its beings – everything was alive in this world and spirits were greatly respected.

It all had seemed so magical to him back then – the wonders of snow, the brightness of the sun and the grass underneath his feet during surprisingly warm summers.

Of course, there were times when his life wasn't as happy – there was constant fighting with Novgorod, one of his eastern neighbours and then there were the Crusades...

It was during the Crusades when Finland, although he hadn't been given that name yet, met his western neighbour – Sweden, although neither him had earned that name yet.

~.~

He looks like a teenager while Tino looks like an adorable 10-year-old boy with his bright, abnormally violet eyes and the smile he wore all the time.

And when the teenager speaks with his low, intimidating voice, Tino instinctively realizes he is the same as him and that thought makes him extremely happy – finally he has found someone like him!

The small boy didn't count Novgorod, since he is a jerk – bullying the pale-haired boy until he snaps and hits back at the stronger personification.

And when the teen calls him Österland, Tino blushes from happiness, thinking that this odd, stoic teen in front of him is nice.

When Berwald extends his hand, Tino is all too eager to grab it with his tinier one.

~.~

When Tino meets Berwald's 'friends' for the first time, he is not sure how to feel.

There are two of them – Norway and Denmark, as they call themselves. Apparently those are their country names.

Tino isn't sure what to call himself – Sweden liked calling him Österland, but as the little land had spent more time with the Swede, he realized that the name sounds very silly.

Eastland isn't something Tino associated with himself at all and the whole subject of this name has been bothering him for a little while, but Berwald insists to call him that.

Well, more like stares at 'Österland' with his serious eyes until Tino backs away, scared of the older nation.

Denmark grins when his eyes land on Österland, laughing out loud. "This is your little conquest, Berwald?" he grins, and Tino is fairly sure that those words are meant to be mocking.

Berwald shoots him an annoyed glare, gesturing Tino to back off a little bit. Tino, who is not as small as before, furrows his brow slightly, deeming the gesture unnecessary.

"Aw, aren't you two cute", the Danish male chuckles, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at Sweden's gesture.

"Denmark, stop it", Norway interjects with his quiet, but firm, voice, glaring at the Dane with not too well hidden disgust.

"Aw, don't ruin my fun", the Dane pouts at his friend. "Let me at least show 'Österland' what me and Berwald are really like – I bet the coward Swede hasn't let him see what he's really like. Or, rather, used to be like."

There is something about Denmark's tone of voice that unnerves Tino quite a lot but at the same time he's honestly curious. He hasn't seen the real Berwald? What is that supposed to mean?

~.~

He starts to understand what Denmark meant with his words when he goes to war together with Berwald for the first time. (Before this Berwald hadn't allowed him to come with him, claiming Tino to be too small to attend serious battles with him.)

He has always felt the pain when his people died in Sweden's wars but seeing is something very different in comparison to just feeling it.

Tino's clothes are covered with blood – and most of it isn't even his own but the Finnish and Swedish soldiers – and his eyes stare dully at the battlefield where thousands of lifeless bodies lie.

And he sees Berwald rising his sword – killing another enemy soldier – and more blood floods out in front of his broken violet eyes.

This... is war.

He starts shaking as the thought passes through his mind and he wants to throw up so badly – he can feel the bile rising up his throat – but he needs to keep it in, needs to keep it in, so that Berwald wouldn't notice his anguish.

It hurts more than he had initially believed.

Why... did they do this? Finland cradles his head on his hands, his violet eyes wide and unseeing. Why, why do we do this to others?

He's horrified and scared – all he see is the redness of blood – and he wants to disappear, knowing that no one besides Berwald and Eduard would even notice his absence.

The uncried tears sting in his eyes as he hears Berwald's steps approaching him and all Tino wants to do is push the Swede away from him when Berwald bends down and gives him a gentle hug.

~.~

"M'wife."

Tino hates when Berwald calls him his wife. He absolutely loathes being called somebody's wife, especially since they aren't even married.

And for the merciful God's sake, he is a MAN! Man!

Hearing that nickname coming from the Swede feels so degrading and humiliating – as if the Swede's trying to say 'you're a weakling with feminine looks' subtly.

Tino is not feminine – he can do as much work as the strongest of his people – and he does not appreciate the fact that the Swede doesn't seem to get that the nickname feels very insulting and degrading.

And then there is Berwald's protectiveness.

At first, it had been very endearing for the Swede to want to protect the Finn from danger but after countless of wars, Tino's growing sick of it – and he feels that it's not even real.

Sweden just wants to protect Tino because Finland is his. If it weren't so, Berwald wouldn't bother even lifting his fingers for him, Tino's sure of it.

If he wasn't a personification of the land, Berwald wouldn't have bothered to find him.

He doesn't care about me at all, Tino thinks to himself when he's alone, free from the Swede's somber company. He just wanted Finland all along. Or Österland, as he used to call me.

And it hurts to think like that because he loves Berwald – he loves him so much, even though he knows its against the Christian moral, and it just makes it worse.

Not having what I want is the worst feeling, Tino thinks as he hugs his knees in his bedroom that has started to resemble more like a cage recently.

Sure, Berwald kisses him and tells the petite Finn that he loves him – the Swede's eyes look so deceivingly soft during those times and Tino really wants to believe him, he really does – but he never ever does anything else.

Berwald doesn't tell him that he's needed there – he wants to be needed – and he never says that he wants all of Tino – Berwald does not think the Finn's attractive, does he? - and Tino wants to scream his lungs out at the Swede and cry, cry everything out until there's nothing left to cry about.

But the tears just won't come – the only expression Tino manages to have on his face is a tiny, pretty smile that is slowly starting to near the borders of insanity.

And no one notices.

~.~

When Sweden smiles, Tino thinks it's the most amazing thing in the world.

It's too bad Sweden never smiles around him – instead he has an air of worry surrounding him when Tino's nearby and the Swede's brow is usually crinkled.

The Finn can understand this, of course – Sweden as a nation has had its own share of troubles lately. The same goes to Finland since it belongs to Sweden.

Still, Tino wishes – no, he longs – for a caring smile from Berwald once in a while and something more than just a short hug but he knows it's futile to wish for such sinful things.

But even though he's hurting badly inside, Tino continues to be his cheerful self and manages to fool every single one of the Nordics.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, it doesn't matter he has never loved me. He would just continue being whatever Sweden needed him to be – that would be more than enough.

No matter what Tino thinks, the fact still remains – he's not worth loving and not worth being noticed.

He can't keep ignoring this fact for much longer anymore.

~.~

His surroundings are on fire and he feels petrified as his empty violet eyes stare at the flickering flames and his ears pick up the screams and wails of pure agony.

This must be a nightmare, he numbly thinks.

Everything had happened so suddenly. At least it seemed like that.

I can't believe it.

Somewhere in the distance, a child's flesh is burning and the poor girl is trying to escape from her fiery hell that has been her home until now.

Tino feels sick, so terribly sick when he watches this horrid play continue on. His people are dying – he can feel and hear them – and there is no person among the dead that was a soldier. Not one.

Where is Berwald?

He's crying as his women are raped – he can feel it, he can hear it and he wants to kill the foreign soldiers for doing that to his precious people.

His head hurts so much, what was he thinking just now?

Where is he?

His chest feels like it's burning when it's not. Those shacks are burning down, not him and yet it hurts him so much – it's as if somebody has set him on fire.

His tears are falling down his cheeks and Tino makes a feeble attempt at standing up – but he can't. It is not because of the damage done to his country – although it is very agonizing pain – but because he knows his fear has come true.

He left me here all alone, didn't he?

And that thoughts pierces his heart like the sharpest sword and his heart is bleeding – bleeding blood red – and everything happening around him makes him wish he could just vanish from this place.

Who would miss him?

~.~

"Hello there."

Tino is startled by the childishly happy voice and feels his bruised heart stop beating for a few short moments.

He doesn't move an inch from the crouching position he's in but somehow he knows that the speaker is the one behind the destruction he's facing right now.

Tino hears the other walking up to him and feels the strong hands turning him around. His chin is lifted up and his violet eyes meet the purple ones and a smile Tino has seen on his own face many times before.

"You are Finland?" the nation questioned, his eyes staring at Tino with a slightly maniac glint in them. "Sweden's little wife, da?"

"No", Tino says brokenly, almost like a doll, weakly resisting being called somebody's wife. "I'm not his wife." He looks into the purple orbs and he feels like he should be getting away from this person but he doesn't move even though the tears still keep coming and his chest feels like its breaking apart.

He looks slightly younger than Tino despite being taller and a bit more muscly. The Finn silently wonders how easily he could tear Finland apart until there's nothing left but smoke, bodies and blood red colour against freshly fallen snow.

It would be easy for him, Tino thinks as he stares at the eerie purple eyes that are almost the same shade as his are.

The pale-haired nation smiles at Tino, and this smile seems almost sincere in comparison to his earlier one.

"Yes, you are not his", he whispers and it sends shivers to the ends of Tino's nervous system – he is so different from Berwald – and the purple eyes leer at him with something Tino has never seen before.
"At least you should not be", he says to Tino – who is suddenly reminded of Novgorod – as his hand rises to stroke the Finn's bloody cheek.

And those words make him cry harder – because that's what he has been thinking lately to himself – and he can't see anymore those beautiful eyes that are like his, that understand him.

"I h-hate him", Tino cries out despite the fact that the young man in front of him is the one causing him all this physical pain. "And h-he doesn't want me", he whispers broken-heartedly. "H-he doesn't want me at all..."

Berwald is gone and it feels painfully obvious that he is not coming back.

This man – Russia – smiles at him and wipes his tears away, a smile that promises pain on his lips.

"Da, he does not want you", he says simply, almost as if he is stating a fact. "But, Finlyandiya, you do not need him."

And Tino wants to believe this man – or is he still a teen? -, thus not resisting at all when the rough and winter-y lips descend down onto his own.

~.~

It is the first time somebody has taken him like that – because Sweden never did claim him that way – and it hurt a lot.

He lies still there where they have done the deed and cries, cries so hard, but at the same time his lips are curled up into a happy smile.

He must look pretty crazy lying there with a broken look in his eyes, crying and smiling at the same time.

His chest is comfortably numb – the pain is gone for now.

Somebody actually wants him and that brings a smile to his face even when his women are degraded and husbands are hiding with their children somewhere.

He giggles quietly to himself and even to his own ears his laughter sounds wrong, distorted – insane, crazy.

He continues laughing softly as tears slowly dry on his face and he still remains unmoving.

When Berwald comes back with his King, Tino does not welcom them with open arms. Instead, he stays in his own land and defiantly ignores the news about some Swedish royalty coming to Finland.

When he sees Berwald, he does not smile at him nor give any indication of being happy of his return. (Like a good wife would.)

He does not ask where they have been during the Russian occupation of Finland. Instead, he looks at the Swede with an indifferent, almost cold, expression that Berwlad probably hasn't seen before.

You abandoned me.

And this is the moment when Tino realizes he doesn't love Sweden anymore – no, he really doesn't – and he starts to wonder, as Berwald awkwardly tries to explain that his King had needed him, if he ever loved this stoic, awkward person in front of him.

The fact that the Swede has been his whole world doesn't mean that Tino ever loved him.

It doesn't mean that his heart should be aching because of him, either.

It just means Tino has been a naive little child this whole time.

~.~

Tino had developed his own language a long time ago, but it is only now that he starts to fully learn it himself.

He does not abandon Swedish either – he needs it if he wants to talk with the nobles.

But he finds himself tasting his language with his tongue, saying words out loud. "Minä... Sinä..." he says softly but surely, repeating the two pronouns until he figures out the sentence he wants to say out loud.

"Minä en rakasta sinua enää."

~.~

He hates it when Sweden pretends everything is fine between them when it's not.

He hates it how Berwald is gentle with him when he doesn't need to be.

Tino hates the language that suffocates his beloved Finnish and how even the Finnish noble degrades the Finnish language as rubbish and something fitting for the poor.

Tino hates Sweden's quarrels with Denmark – he hates it even more when Berwald dares to say it's to protect the Kingdom – and the petite Finn has learnt to disappear once Sweden and Denmark are together.

He thinks he knows what those two are to each other, but he does not want to think about it or it would hurt him so much more (because he used to think Berwald used to love him and him only even when he didn't love him back).

He hates hearing their noises, too.

He usually hears them when he's staying in Sweden's castle – no matter how rarely he spends time there anymore – and he always curls up into a tight ball when he can hear someone – he's not sure if it's Sweden or Denmark – groaning loudly.

It reminds him of how Sweden never went beyond kissing and embracing him – how humiliated it made him feel...

And then he thinks back to the one who had taken his virginity – the nation called Russia who has also been fighting with Sweden frequently. Not as frequently as Denmark, though.

He remembers those purple eyes reflecting his own orbs – oh how he wishes to see those eyes again – and the lips descending down on his and the kiss that wasn't gentle like Sweden's.

The hands gripping his wrists had been strong, just like Tino had presumed, and they didn't let go. Not like Tino had even tried, though.

Kisses on his neck, kisses on his cheeks, kisses on his stomach – demanding, harsh kisses and bites all over his body.

He wants to feel like that again – alive, wanted – but he knows...

As long as he is chained to Sweden's Kingdom, he can never dream of feeling like that again.

The crash from the room next to his confirms his thoughts and suddenly Tino rushes to his bathroom to get rid of the contents of his stomach.

And when the tears fall down his cheek, Tino thinks that it is only right that he is suffering like this – for being unloyal to the Kingdom, one must feel agony.

For having a heart of a traitor, he would suffer.

And in their world, it is right to be punished for betraying their caretakers.

(Tino remembers America's smiling face and hopes that he won't end up as fucked up as he is right now.)

~.~

Another war with Russia.

Just because Sweden doesn't want to help France with the continental blockade against England.

(Sweden has gotten along with England surprisingly well lately, Tino thinks to himself.)

It is not going well, Tino feels this.

The war is going on in his lands – in his body – and it is a losing battle they are fighting.

If it could be even called fighting.

Tino has grown tired of running away – that's practically what they have been doing the whole time – and so are his people.

The Russians aren't stupid, surely they have realized that either the Swedes are cowards (which is true in Tino's opinion) or they are planning something.

And when Sveaborg – no, it's Suomenlinna – falls, Tino is not surprised at all and the panic fills the Swedes and the Finns know that the war is as good as lost.

It's the year 1808 and Tino is sure that Sweden will give him to Russia, even though he doesn't say anything when the Finn questions him about it.

It wouldn't hurt this much if he actually fought for me.

But he didn't, and Tino knows for sure now that Sweden's love has never been ever-lasting despite what the tall Swede may have hinted a few decades ago.

Tino tells himself it doesn't hurt at all.

~.~

When Tino sees Ivan (he is allowed to call Russia Ivan) for the first time for a little while, the Finn feels overwhelmed.

This is the person – the nation – that has stolen him away from Sweden – and while Tino is almost happy about it, the change feels unsettling – and the one who is the one behing his people's suffering right now.

"It seems you are mine now", the Russian smiles at him and Tino feels a shudder in his spine when he hears Ivan's tone of voice.

Tino smiles – a broken one, but it's still a real smile – and nods. "Da", he replies in Russian even though he doesn't have very vast knowledge of said language – and notices the pleased look on Ivan's face when he does so.

And when Ivan hugs him, Tino feels his heart beating fast – the hug is very tight, he thinks in amazement, nothing like Sweden's careful embraces – and his cheeks warm up when Ivan whispers, "Welcome, my little swan."

And when Ivan kisses him, Tino responds to it almost desperately, clinging onto the taller nation.

He cries, loudly, and Ivan kisses the tears away – and Tino feels that it is right.

He wants this moment last forever, so nothing can take this happiness away from him.

~.~

Ivan's touches feel like fire against his skin and Tino can't help but gasp when those fingers move on his skin, touching his scars – some are the ones Ivan made – and behind those fingers comes the tongue traveling the same path as the fingers.

"Hnngh...!" Tino moans when Ivan's mouth surrounds one of his nipples, sucking it perhaps a bit too harshly and the petite Finn's nails claw onto the Russian's back – he's so scarred, Tino realizes – in response.

And when their lips meet again, Tino feels a finger entering him and his cry is muffled by the Russian's mouth.

It hurts a lot to have a finger inside him, even with the saliva coating it, but Tino finds himself liking that kind of pain and rushes the Russian to move it around inside him.

And when it does start moving, Tino gasps out lightly – in both surprise and pain – and he leans to kiss the Russian again, his broken heart beating faster than it had ever before.

It is a sweet, toxicating pain he is in and he would love to have more of that pain that goes by the name of Ivan.

~.~

He cries out Ivan's name when he releases and it is another feeling he has never experienced before – well, besides the last time he was with Ivan – and he finds himself loving that feeling, that sensation.

He knows it's dangerous – addictions always are – but he doesn't care. He does not need anyone else in his life. Perhaps not even Eduard, who is his dearest – and maybe only – friend he has.

(The ironic part is that he now lives in the same house as Eduard.)

No matter what anyone else says about Ivan, Tino is fascinated by him and the rough way he treats others while smiling like a child.

He is fascinated – and perhaps that is the first sign of what future hold out for him, since fascination is always a very fickle, dangerous thing.

~.~

Eduard is staring at him, Tino realizes.

The Estonian seems to be worried about him – but why?

I'm happy.

And when Tino smiles at him, the Estonian recoils and winces slightly, as though experiencing physical pain.

He does not understand why, though.

He is happy. Happier than with Sweden, anyways. He has lots of freedom – as much as one can have belonging to other – and he is treated better by Ivan than by Berwald.

What Tino does not see is the broken smile he wears all the time and the way he lets Ivan to treat him like a mindless doll.

What Tino does see is love, but what Eduard sees is a friend losing a fight to insanity.

And when Eduard tries to have a talk with his best friend, all he gets is a hollow smile and words, "Ivan is waiting for me."

When Tino says those words, Eduard feels cold and lost and lonely – but most of all, Eduard fears for his best friend's sanity.

Meanwhile, Tino is happy.

~.~

When Tino hears Poland screaming, his first reaction is to smile.

Stop screaming, Feliks.

He is hugging his knees in his room's bed – waiting for Ivan to come – and listening to the Pole shrieking in pain and anger.

Stop screaming, Ivan loves hearing that.

His chest hurts and he doesn't know why. Has something happened in his land?

Smile, and he will not hurt you.

His eyes felt watery for the first time in years even despite the smile he is wearing.

Smile, laugh and love him and you will be spared.

Where are these thoughts coming from? He does love Ivan, he adores the man with every fibre of his being...

Ivan is so good to him – so good – and Tino loves him, adores him and would never ever betray him.

Because Ivan understands that Tino should not be treated softly like Sweden had – because Tino hates being treated like a weakling.

Why is he crying? He doesn't understand where these tears are coming from – there is nothing to cry about – and he doesn't know why his heart feels like its breaking and why his head hurts when he hears Poland fighting back and screaming, cursing in his native language.

"Stop it", he whispers – his lips moving on their own – and cradles his head desperately when he hears a loud crash in the room he knows Poland and Russia are.

Stop struggling, Feliks.

Agonizing sounds make their way to his ears and Finland cries – but why do I cry – and holds his head with his hands.

Stop fighting back, you moron.

~.~

It is snowing outside the house and Finland stares at it in fascination.

Is it snowing in Finland, too? Tino wonders as his violet eyes stare at the falling snow flakes that are piling up in the lawn.

Winters are cold and beautiful in Russia, Tino has noticed this during the time he has lived with Ivan and the others.

"Hey, you", a cold voice speaks from behind him and Tino tears his gaze away from the pretty scenery and, much to his amazement, he sees Belarus standing in front of him.

"Uh, hey", he says awkwardly but holds the smile on his face. "You're Natalia, right?"

The female nation scowls at him and something flashes in her narrowed eyes.

"Stay away from my brother", she states icily as she creeps closer, her eyes staring at him intensely. "He is mine, not yours."

Tino can hear the insanity in her voice – it's the same as his voice – and he smiles at her in a way that can be labelled as oblivious.

"What do you mean, miss Natal-"

His voice immediately fades away when her hands push him harshly.

"I said – big brother is mine", she growls and the look on her face becomes even more intense. "You're in the way", she adds then and pushes him again -

-and he falls through the closed window towards the snowy ground.

~.~

Don't cry, my little swan, I am here.

He isn't crying.

Natalia is to be punished for her doings.

He knows that. No one defies the Russian without facing the concequences. Not even his sisters.

You are so beautiful, little swan.

Maybe he is – maybe he isn't – but Tino doesn't care about that.

I will come back soon.

Yes, Ivan would always come back for him, Tino knows this.

When the door behind the Russian is closed, the violet orbs fill with tears and the choked sobs fill the silence around him.

You are my beautiful porcelain doll, da?

~.~

"Would you learn Russian for me?" Ivan asks him one day when they're lying together on the snow.

Tino considers this and remembers that some of his people still speak Swedish and remembers, without wanting to remember, Berwald.

The one who gave you up so easily, the one who hurt you the most.

Does he, Tino, want to learn Russian for Ivan?

Tino glances at Ivan and sees the childishly hopeful look on his face and a warm smile spreads to his own face.

"Of course, Ivan", he says softly. "I would love to learn Russian."

And Ivan's smile, when he hears Tino's answer, is so brilliant and shiny that it makes Tino feel happier and less tired than he had been for a long time.

The main question, Tino thinks to himself as he follows Ivan – or Vanya, as Ivan tells him to call him – and his smile becomes bitter, should be: Does Finland want to learn Russian for Russia?

And he knows the answer to that question is 'no'.

~.~

His head hurts a lot nowadays and he thinks he knows why.

His people – his lovely people – want their freedom, their independence already from Russia who has been cruel to them.

Tino tastes the word – itsenäisyys – on his mouth and says it over and over again to himself and wonders if that's what he truly wants.

It's true he's like a caged bird here in Russia's house but he doesn't think he hates it.

If anything, he loves being there with Ivan who always takes care of him and loves him and says sweet things like 'little swan' and he has healed Tino's heart.

Or so Tino thinks.

In reality, he is falling even deeper inside the sweet illusion of love – hurt, screams, pain, blood – and he doesn't even notice anything off with their relationship.

Even when Ivan hurts him, Tino loves him; when Ivan is not in a good mood and insults him, Tino smiles with his brightest smile; when Ivan hurts Eduard, Tino ignores his friend's pain and thinks its Eduard's fault that Ivan hurts him.

He loves Ivan – he's so kind to me, he doesn't treat me as a weakling – and he wants to follow Ivan until the end.

Even when Tino cracks, he ends up thinking it's his fault – being weak, a crybaby, unworthy – and somehow he brings out his trademark smile that has slowly started to resemble Ivan's a bit too much.

But soon everything would come to an end.

Independence. Itsenäisyys.

~.~

Ivan looks so worn-out when he signs the paper and Tino wants to cry and beg him not to sign the damn thing but he knows Ivan has made his decision.

It is the same decision as the Finnish people have hoped for.

Tino feels heavy when Ivan gives him the papers and the Finn takes them slowly, knowing there is nothing either of them can say anymore.

Because, from this moment on, Russia has recognized Finland as an independent nation.

Neither Tino nor Ivan can change the fact.

The silence between them is heartbreaking for Tino and he reaches out to Ivan, for the last tight hug from which he would know that Ivan didn't want to let him go.

Ivan shakes his head and doesn't step forward to give Tino that hug. "It is over now", the Russian male whispers and Tino doesn't know whether Ivan is speaking to himself or him or both of them.

Tino backs off and his violet eyes look at Ivan with hurt apparent in them and, for once, neither of them can give their trademark smiles to each other.

It is over between us.

~.~

In front of him stand France and Sweden, and they have just accepted him as his own independent nation.

Finland smiles at them – it is a fake smile but neither of them notice it – and thanks them for accepting his independency with a deep bow.

France chuckles gently at him – although he looks very worn out and tired himself – and tells him that he is too adorable not to be accepted.

Sweden merely stands there awkwardly, most likely feeling very self-conscious or embarrassed about accepting his former colony as an independent nation.

As for Finland, he feels very torn about the whole deal. This is what his people wanted for so long – and yet, his own feelings...

He feels so lost in the world.

Nonetheless, he continues to smile cheerfully – and bravely – and he gives both of them a hug even though France gropes him – Finland doesn't actually mind it that much – and Sweden is too tall to be hugged by him.

When he is alone, he lets his tears fall down to his cheeks.

He is independent, alright, but at what cost?

I'm so alone...

~.~

His people are fighting against each other.

The White against the Red, as it has become.

Finland is tired of it – he has tried his everything to stop them and still...

Which side is he supposed to choose? How can he make such a horrific choice? If he chooses the other side, the other one will suffer and every single one of them is still as precious to him as others.

He wants to scream – blood red colour is everywhere he goes – but he can't, he can't scream, because it is a sign of weakness and he cannot be weak during times like these -

But he is weak. So pathetically weak that it's not even funny.

People die around him and he can't do a single thing for them.

But blood has such a pretty colour.

The more he sees, the less he feels.

He is scared of the numbness that is crawling into his chest.

~.~

When it's finally over with, Tino stands in the middle of Helsinki and stares at the sky.

It is pouring cats and dogs here.

He feels the smell of death in his capital but it doesn't disturb him the least bit.

The scent of blood is actually quite nice.

The rain makes his hair and body and clothes wet but he doesn't mind it all that much.

His lips curl up into a tiny smile and he has to resist the urge to laugh out loud when he hears someone's pained breaths somewhere close to him.

He sometimes gets jealous of humans because they can die so easily.

To him, it's too difficult, because he can't die.

He has tried, many times, during these past few months when his people were fighting among themselves.

His attempts at making Tino Väinämöinen disappear have resulted in a few bullet holes in his abdomen and deep cuts on his wrists but those are all healing remarkably fast.

He hates being (nearly) immortal and loathes the fact that he is a creature with an impossible age.

A creature of violence and hate, his consciousness whispers to him. A creature to serve and suffer for their people.

And his laughter – how long had he been laughing? - stops when his eyes fill up with crystal tears that he won't shed.

No, not for these people.

~.~

He is waiting for his King to arrive – he has been waiting for hours.

He is a kingdom without a king.

He continues waiting even when it starts to rain and wind messes up his hair.

He wants to meet his King already, where is he, of course the trip from Germany takes time but-

And then he hears it.

There will be no King.

Germany has lost the Great War.

Tino doesn't even blink his eyes when he hears it.

It's not like he cared for Ludwig or Gilbert at all.

So, instead of a king, he will have a president.

Tino nods along with this, accepting everything his politicians have planned for him.

He doesn't care about it – he doesn't know these people and he doesn't know Finland at all.

And so Finland becomes the Rebublic of Finland with a very modern parliament.

Yet no one knows what Tino, the personification of said country, feels or needs – and frankly, no one cares.

All they want to see is Finland, not Tino.

I miss Ivan.

~.~

England and America recognize him as an independent nation in May 1919.

Tino doesn't want to see them – but he has to – and he smiles at them his best smile he can muster.

And, ah, they are so easy to fool.

America gives him a hug – which Finland reluctantly returns – and says it's awesome how the little Finn managed to get away from Russia.

Tino doesn't mention that the departure from Russia was what broke his heart into tiny pieces – but there wasn't much left to break anyway – and that he has been living like a ghost since then, especially after his citizens had decided to start a massacre amongst their own people.

He doesn't mention how tired he already is – being all alone and crying himself to sleep even though he can't cry – and he does not ask why America had wanted independence in the first place.

Instead he smiles brightly at America and England – who looks a bit worn out despite having even larger Empire than before – and they don't suspect a thing.

And when they leave – holding hands and it makes Tino feel sick and disgusted – he finally stops smiling and collapses onto the floor and sleeps.

He dreams of the past – of the happy times and the bad times – and he wishes he could stay there forever...

When he wakes up, he cries because the dream has ended.

~.~

He hates Sweden who almost took Åland away from him.

Åland has always been part of him – why does Berwald want it to himself?

Because he wants to hurt you – because you're no longer part of him.

It doesn't hurt, surprisingly – Tino has stopped caring a long time ago. Now he just feels anger and resentment towards the man who wants to cut him open and take something that isn't his to begin with.

They say Tino is a happy person but they are wrong.

Tears won't come anymore. Not for Berwald, at least.

If they only knew...

~.~

He gets along with Sweden, but only barely.

It has become hard to supress his resentment for the tall, silent nation.

And when the Nordics meet, Tino is the only one who supresses his real feelings and laughs even when he feels like he shouldn't be there.

He doesn't belong there with them – his language already separates him from them.

If he tried hard enough, maybe he could feel that he belongs with them.

It doesn't matter, though. He's not good at being social – even though he pretends to be.

Besides, if he let them see the real him, they would probably try to save him or something. Denmark isn't that kind of nation to just leave things as they are.

It's a good thing they'll never know.

~.~

When Winter War comes, Tino can't say he's surprised. The situation with Russia has been tight for so long that this should come as no surprise to anyone.

When they meet in the battlefield, Tino is already bloody and sweaty – trying to save his people but failing – and Ivan looks as though he has just entered the battlefield.

"Tino", the Russian calls him and smiles – no smile can look more terrifying than his – at him almost in a gentle way. "My little, runaway swan."

And those words hurt Tino because he never ran away from Ivan and it was Ivan who signed that paper, letting him go and...

"Ivan..." he whispers as his body feels another jolt when more of his people die. "Ivan..." he repeats like a broken record. "Why?" he asks and takes a fearful step back when the Russian takes one forward.

"Because you kept saying 'no' to me", Ivan says simply and his smile widens. "I didn't know my little swan had learnt that word."

Tino keeps gripping his gun tightly, ready to shoot at the Russian if needed. It wouldn't kill Ivan – Tino knows this better than anyone – but at least... at least Tino would do something for his people.

"I don't want to give my lands to you", he whispers sadly, "I can't. My people... I..."

He loves his people so much – they're his everything – and he wants to give them his everything. He wants to protect their independence from his former owner.

Ivan steps closer and Tino instinctively takes a few steps back, feeling his heartbeats quickening. The past – the kisses, the whispers, the smiles, the touches, the screams – flashes in Tino's mind and he wants, so badly, to feel that way again.

But... he has grown since those times – has learnt to care for his people more than anyone one else – and he knows... he knows that whatever happened between them can't be rekindled.

Because he only lives for his people, to be used by them and to serve them until he falls.

"Oh, what a brave little swan you are", Ivan coos and tilts his head – Tino takes another step back - and his eyes are gleaming with dark light.

"Won't you come back to me?" he asks sweetly as he comes to Tino – who is now paralyzed with fear and something else – and cups the petite Finn's face with his gloved hands.

Something about Ivan's voice scares Tino – fight back, Tino, for your people – and he can't bring himself to stop Ivan when the Russian embraces him too tightly and Tino can still feel that eerie, threatening smile.

And slowly, slowly, Ivan starts undressing the frozen Finn from his pure white outfit stained in blood, brutally kissing and nibbling at the skin that is being revealed.

The cold winter wind dulls Tino's thoughts and stops the tears from falling down his cheeks. This man, Ivan, has... done so many things to his people and Tino should hate him like he hates Sweden and...

When Ivan's hands descend down to his hips, Tino snaps back to his sense and hurriedly pulls away from the Russian – away, he must get away – and his pale violet eyes stare at the Russian in horror – he was really, really going to take him – and he quickly turns away and runs, runs faster than he has ever ran.

And his chest hurts so badly.

~.~

He doesn't count the days anymore.

He just lives to fight – and kill – for his people, for his daughters and sons. His very existence is for them – to give them protection, love, peace and everything he can never have – and he embraces this truth.

He thinks he understands America now – the need for freedom, to get away from the one hurting his people.

And when he kills a Russian soldier, he smiles relievedly and thinks blood is a lovely colour against the snow after all.

It is all for his precious people, but Tino can't help the satisfied feeling he gets when his guns and Molotov cocktails cause bloodshed and despair amongst Russian soldiers.

And so his descent into the darkness has begun with blood red colour contrasting the whiteness of the snow that is as pure as the white in his flag.

Or maybe he has already fallen and he just doesn't know it.

~.~

Sweden is not helping – except the volunteers, but the country of Sweden wants to stay neutral.

Tino can understand this – but that doesn't mean that, in his heart, he doesn't hate Sweden because of it.

The words 'I love you' or 'Jag älskar dig' seem so distant now and no matter how he tries – desperately – to remember if Sweden ever said those words to him, he can't find a memory of those words.

Berwald doesn't care, does he?

And Ivan, who used to say 'I love you, my swan', is hurting his people and that is unforgivable.

Indifference hurts, but – Tino thinks – love hurts even more.

It is too easy to drift from love to hate.

His heart is aching.

~.~

He is talking with England and France – in Sweden.

I guess his 'neutrality' has its own perks, Tino muses sullenly when he is led into the room where the two nations are waiting for him.

When they see him, Tino notices their stunned – or is it pity – looks.

Tino smiles sheepishly at them although it hurts to smile. "Hello", he says softly, wincing slightly at how rough his voice sounds.

"Finland", England is the first one to speak, his enormous and widely known eyebrows furrowed. "France and I..." he gestures the air between the two nations. "...we are offering you help."

France, who looks surprisingly glum and serious, nods in agreement.

Finland merely stares at them in confusion – since when do they care about my land – and blinks. "Help?" he questions and his smile widens slightly in disbelief. "Why would you offer that?" he asks.

He knows they're at war with Ludwig – oh, he knows it so painfully well.

France and England stare at him after exchanging worried glances with each other – is he okay? No, I don't think he is – and Tino sees, in his mind, the concequences if he receives the help from the two nations.

The War would only come to his land – England and France's war, that is – and he fears it – Ludwig and Gilbert – and he doesn't want it to happen. Even if he has to stand alone, he will not beg for help from these two.

They don't understand his fears when he declines their offer as politely as possible – the same smile on his face as back then when he told them about the bright-haired young nation that is known as America nowadays.

They don't understand because they don't know him.

There is no one who understands his desperation.

~.~

He lies there unmoving, staring at Ivan fearfully.

They call the war the '105 days of Glory'.

Ivan smiles deceivingly softly – a thin bleeding cut on his lower lip stands out to Tino's eyes - and strokes his cheek.

There is no Glory.

"It's too bad, swan", Ivan croons and his eyes stare intently at Tino, "that I cannot have you." When he says that, he kisses Tino's cheek.

There is no Glory in making this treaty with Russia.

Tino cries – why is he always crying – but he knows that he can't help it anymore. He needs this treaty with Russia even if it is a disgraceful one to him, to his people.

When Ivan leaves his marks on him, Tino feels nothing but emptiness and tears continue staining the sheets underneath them.

Russia took his left leg.

The sharp pain in his left leg and in his left side causes him to scream out loud – ithurtssomuch – and something that used to be whole inside him finally cracks and snaps.

Russia took his Karelia.

When Ivan is done with him and leaves the room, Tino stays in the bed, unmoving, unflinching, just staring with his own purple eyes into nothingness.

And it is in this silence, when Tino feels nothing at all, that the seeds of madness crawl into his heart. (But they have already been there, haven't they?)

He will pay for what he did to me.

~.~

He is smiling wickedly at the beginning of Continuation War.

I will get my Karelia, and my leg, back.

His left leg, as if to remind him, has been aching a lot lately. When it does, Finland smiles and croons at it like a mother to her child; we will get everything back.

He wants to take, to steal, instead of having something taken away from him like it usually goes.

No matter what, he wants to hurt somebody – he wants somebody to feel even greater pain than he does.

Is this how England used to feel when he was powerful and feared?

And when Ludwig's attack against Russia begins, Tino's laughter echoes in his house – he laughs so hard he almost cries – before he sobers up, still smiling as he throws a bottle of Russian vodka at his house's wall.

When the glass bottle breaks, Tino's smile fades and silence falls. He stares at the glass shards with his dark violet eyes.

I wonder if my heart is like that bottle – broken into thousands of beautiful shards that won't ever join each other again.

It still hurts. The past, the present, the future.

But he will be the one fighting and killing this time around – he will be the heartbreaker and the tormentor.

That thought makes him feel better and the smile returns to his face.

"Ei tämä ole hulluutta", he mutters in his own language that he has fallen in love with. "Ei ollenkaan..."

~.~

Everything starts out well for the Finns in the war. They get pretty deep into Russia's side of the border – much farther than they had initially planned – and Tino feels ecstatic about the whole thing.

He bathes in blood of the Russians.

When his clothes are soaked with blood red liquid, he laughs and giggles and dances with the snow that is not there.

And right then, for the first time in some time, Tino feels his heart filling up with happiness.

Misery is such a wonderful thing to inflict upon others.

~.~

He is losing his sanity a little by little – but he does not notice it. (Because he didn't have much left of it anyway.)

He feels better than ever and that is what drives him forward – hurting Russia feels so good – and he does what he does feverishly, ignoring the fact that the other nations disapprove.

England declares a war between then on the 6th day of December – Finland's Independence Day.

That day, Tino smiles as though he is happy about the news.

Because it is not only Russia Tino wishes to destroy.

~.~

He holds a bloody head in his shaking hands and smiles the smile others would call an angelic one.

When combined with the blood trickling down his forehead and cheeks, the smile instantly turns into a crazed one – even though it looks exactly the same as his angelic grin.

"I will-", Tino whispers – his voice cracking – and smiling down at the head. "I will..." he repeats, his hands clutching the dead Russian's head from its hair before throwing it away like a bowling ball.

"I will", he says for the third time, knowing that those words are everything he needs to say.

~.~

They are running away – away from Russia – frantically, almost in a frenzy, and Tino feels the bad taste of foreboding in his dry mouth as they do so.

He feels it.

We're not going to win this, are we, Mr. Mannerheim?

The bitter feeling of fear clings to his heart – this was not supposed to happen, he was supposed to be the one kicking ass here – but he does not cry when he sees Ivan approaching him with a smile that is even darker than before.

And he remembers that this is not Russia – this is the Soviet Union.

~.~

Ivan's fingers probe at his old wound on his left side – the one caused by the treaty after Winter War – and the nails claw onto the skin, breaking it, making it bleed.

Tino does not make a sound as Ivan does this.

It hurts but he has become numb to the pain.

When Ivan smears blood on to his lips, Tino instinctively smiles happily and licks the blood off from his own lips without realizing it's his own blood.

When Ivan Braginski smiles back at him, the Finn smiles back – and the hatred is still there, the bitter feeling of loss and defeat.

This is the end of the Continuation War.

~.~

It is as though the whole Lapland is on fire.

The German soldiers are burning everything as they retreat and Tino thinks it is far too easy to hate Ludwig for this even if he has nothing to do with this.

He knows it is not Ludwig he should hate.

(The Soviet Union.)

He knows this, and yet...

A faint shriek in the distance makes him close his eyes. "Anteeksi", he whispers to the dying people, who can't hear him, and clutches his chest. "Antakaa minulle anteeksi."

He wants to die – he has wanted for a long time – and when a German soldier shoots him – the bullet piercing his chest – Tino falls and bleeds.

But he still lives.

He smells the ash and the smoke and he knows the Continuation War will be the war he will want to forget – and never mention again.

But it is not because of the inhuman things he did – he is not a human, after all – but because of the humiliating defeat he suffered.

Instead of waking up from his madness, Tino only falls deeper.

Smile, and everything will be fine, darling.

His dry and wounded lips rise up into a tiny smile as the War of Lapland continues to rage around his bleeding immortal body.

Somewhere, an angel of darkness is smiling, too.

~.~

After the war in Lapland is done for, Tino's thoughts starts circling around – the Soviets, the communists, the new president – and he starts to lose the fight against himself.

He is afraid of becoming communist – of becoming like the Soviet Union – and of losing the rest of himself.

There is something innocent in him still – and he doesn't want to lose it.

~.~

When he goes to meet his former president in the house of correction, Tino doesn't know what to expect.

Mr. Ryti has been declared as one of the main war criminals – hence the sentence of ten years in the house of correction.

The small Finn hates it but since the Commission (which mostly consists of Soviets) had wanted the criminals to be sentenced...

Finland heaves a sigh as he sneaks into the room where he knows his former leader is – luckily no one sees him doing this – and smiles softly when he sees the man sitting on the corner of the tiny room, an unreadable expression on his face.

When he notices Tino, Ryti's expression turns into a confused one before settling into a frown.

"What are you doing here?" he questions in their language. "Tino..."

His voice is so hoarse that Tino actually flinches. "I..." he starts before pausing, bending down in front of the man who is seemingly older than him. "I don't know what to do."

He starts talking about his fear, paranoia, about the Soviets and the way he wishes he'd have someone to talk to since he doesn't want to turn to Sweden and everything else that makes him feel awful.

"Shouldn't you be telling this to Mr. Mannerheim instead of me?" Risto Ryti questions with the tiniest of sympathetic smiles on his face.

Tino shakes his head, a fearful look on his face. "It's nothing personal", he murmurs and looks down. "But, when I'm with him, I always think of... the first half of the year 1918."

Mannerheim had been White... and being Red had been classified as a bad thing – as though they were the villains of the story.

And yet, the White terrorised the Red after the battles were done...

So much blood.

Tino doesn't want to remember – and although he knows Ryti probably was on the White side, too, it's easier to talk to him – but he's not allowed to forget.

He will never be allowed to let go.

And when his former boss gives him a consoling embrace – even though Finnish men aren't supposed to do that -, Tino doesn't feel better at all.

He can't shrug off the ominous feeling in the back of his mind.

~.~

They say the Finnish communists will try to take over Finland.

He is so afraid.

They say it might get bloody and lots of people will die because of it.

It is almost like the time during when he gained his independence – so tense, ready to explode...

Blood red colour will come again-

At the same time, there is a part of him...

-and when it does...

...that wishes for revolution, for a new beginning for himself and for his people.

...he will be dancing in the colour again as the pure white snow falls down.

And, while his people worry, Tino smiles a half-sane smile.

Because a smile makes everything better, doesn't it?

~.~

1947, Paris.

Tino is in the same room with Gilbert, Ludwig and the other Axis countries – although Tino really doesn't count himself as one of them.

But that's not what the Allies think, is it?

He is sitting farther away from the three German-speaking nations, his face blank and the usual smile gone. He does not dare to smile in front of these people, after all.

They are waiting for their doom while I'll just wait to have mine confirmed.

Because Ivan hadn't wasted any time and neither had Finland's people when putting the treaty into use.

Tino absent-mindedly rubs at his left shoulder where the strongest pain is located.

As I thought, it still hasn't gone away.

The burns on his back still haven't healed either.

"The Republic of Finland", a booming voice from the door catches Tino's attention.

"You have visitors."

~.~

Denmark, Norway, Iceland and Sweden are there waiting for him.

Frankly speaking, Tino feels stunned to see them there – after all, none of them had visited him during these two years – but that doesn't stop him from noticing the exhausted facial expressions on Norway and Denmark's faces. Iceland and Sweden have their neutral expressions on.

"..." Tino opens his mouth to greet but no noise comes out. He tries again. "Why are you four here?" he questions quietly as his stunned expression melts into a brilliant smile. "I thought you guys were busy with rebuilding your cities and -"

Denmark cuts his sentence off. "Why the fuck are you smiling?"

Tino blinks, confusion evident in his violet eyes, his grin faltering ever so slightly. "Why?" he repeats and tilts his head with his eyes wide open. "Why can't I smile?" he asks softly and his smile visibly becomes more forced.

"Is it so bad..." he wonders out loud, violet eyes dark with emotions that he has never shown to them. "...that I want to keep on smiling through these times?"

He remembers the times he couldn't smile at all – the unhappy times when he waited for Sweden to come back to him from the wars – and he remembers all the pain he had to go through.

His smile fades away as he grasps Denmark from his shoulders and asks him, quietly, "If I can't smile, then how... How will things get better?" His voice cracks slightly at the end. "How will my people ever be happy if I don't keep on smiling and believing in the future?"

Denmark steps back in surprise – Norway and Sweden stare at the exchange of words with caution as Iceland sits down - before furrowing his brow and responding, "If you had cared about them, you would have realized that it was a fucking mistake to take the Soviet Union on!"

Finland smiles softly at those words and lets his arms fall back to his sides.

"Denmark", he says almost deceivingly softly as he tilts his head in a childish manner. "The thing is... no matter what... If I went back in time, I still would go to war against him." He closes his eyes and clutches his left shoulder.

"Because", he mutters as his nails dig into his sore skin through the fabric of his shirt, "I really, really hate that man."

His smile widens slightly and opens his eyes to watch the other Nordics' reactions. "But it can't be helped", he declares, "since I went and lost."

And the bitterness of his smile takes the Nordics by surprise, causing them to look at each other in barely concealed worry.

He is a country of bitter smiles and stories untold, concealed emotions and suppressed agony.

~.~

He stands in front of the Allied nations and keeps the smile on his face as they list his crimes out loud.

What crimes? He only did those to the Soviets, it's not a crime to kill them-

The Allies all look tired – especially England and France – and on the edge, for some reason. Especially America and Rus – no, the Soviet Union.

He wants to stangle him with his own hands, to feel that sweet liquid staining them, to lick that sweet poison away from his fingers and then make that person hurt like he has been hurt...

Tino grins slightly – America flinches at the smile – and waits.

"Do you understand what is expected of you and your country?" England is the one to speak – his voice low and his eyes dim – and Finland nods in response.

"I do", he says. "I am already arranging those things he asked me for." Tino glances at Ivan, who had been ignoring America's none too subtle glares sent to his way, and tentatively smiles at the silver-haired male.

"Da, he is", Ivan confirms his words and smiles back at Tino, the darkness in his eyes drawing Tino in – deeper, deeper, deeper – to insanity.

Tino's grin widens.

~.~

"You really are like a swan", Ivan muses while their politicians are in the negotiations for YYA Treaty in the early April of 1948. "So pretty and pale... and yet..."

Tino stays tense as the Soviet strokes his cheek with his bare, calloused hands.

"You would make a beautiful swan of Tuonela", Ivan whispers into his ear and Tino feels his stomach tightening at the obvious reference to his epic.

"What are you talking about?" he asks stiffly, slightly pulling away from the silver-haired nation and feeling disgusted with himself.

Ivan's lips curl up into a smirk as his body follows Tino's movement, his hand back on the pale-haired Finn's face, the thumb rubbing his lower lip.

"You know, Tino", he whispers quietly and leans over to nibble at the Finn's lip – causing the Finn to flinch noticeably.

I hate this man so much...

"You know yourself as well as I know myself", Ivan says after releasing the Finn's lip. "Is that picture of you not accurate?"

Tino stares at his lap for a while, violet eyes dim and unseeing. He does not resist when Ivan's lips attach themselves to the skin on his neck and suck at it – instead, he moans and tilts his head for better access.

"F-fine", Tino struggles to say as Ivan's hands lower themselves down to his hips. "I... Your picture of me is correct."

Degrading.

Ivan's smile against Tino's soft skin feels surprisingly good. "I thought as much." The words are mumbled against the crook of Tino's neck and the Finn shivers from the feeling.

Ivan pushes the smaller nation down on his back after withdrawing his lips momentarily and looks down at the shorter male with the same kind of eyes as his.

Tino swallows thickly when he sees the way Ivan looks at him – those eyes could devour him – and turns his head so that he doesn't have to look.

"So enticing", Ivan murmurs and lowers his head to kiss Tino's cheek. "And to think Sweden was as foolish as not to ravish you..."

I really, really want to see your blood on my hands. I really do.

Tino tenses at the mention of Sweden and almost pushes the Soviet away from him before remembering.

A good relationship with the Soviet Union is an important thing to Finland.

He is really starting to hate being nearly immortal.

~.~

1952 is a remarkable year for him in many ways.

First of all, he has finally paid his reparations to the Soviet Union.

Second of all, the Olympics in Helsinki. The only thing that saddens him is the absence of Paavo Nurmi. (Damn those Swedes.)

And third of all, this is the year when Tino smiles a real smile – the first real smile in a long, long time.

All in all, it is a very good year for him.

~.~

In the March 1956, Tino gets a new president.

His name is Urho Kekkonen, and Tino – at first – doesn't trust him a lot.

But then he starts to notice these little things about his new president – positive things – and he slowly but surely begins to adore Kekkonen and his mental strength.

He is the man Finland would look back on even much later with respect despite what others may think of him.

He is the man who made Finland strong.

~.~

"I like your president", Ivan comments as they are walking on the countryside of Finland. "And so does my boss", he adds with a satisfied smile on his face although Tino is sure that Ivan is not sharing his feelings completely.

Tino smiles at Ivan's words. "That's good to hear", he replies cheerfully and his violet eyes are full of pride. "It's nice how those two have struck up a friendship."

Ivan nods in agreement and holds out a hand for Tino to grab, which the Finn does after a moment. "In times like these, it is nice to know that there's someone you can trust, isn't it?" the Russian comments and squeezes Tino's hand in his own.

Tino's smile doesn't slide away but it becomes slightly strained. "I can trust others, too", he says meekly but knows that the words are a lie.

A beautiful lie that he wants to believe in, but a lie nonetheless.

"No", Ivan says as they both stop walking at the same time. "Those others are America's allies – capitalists – and you know as well as I do that they would only use you and your lands to get to my country."

Ivan sounds almost paranoid when he says those words and Tino's heart clenches.

"I'm neutral in this mess", he hisses and pulls his hand away. "At least trying to be!"

The Soviet nation smiles at Finland almost indulgently as he takes his hand again. "You can try to deny the truth but you can't hide from it."

Tino just wants to stay out of their mindless quarrels and live a simple life – but with one of the superpowers as his neighbour, that's not going to happen.

"You have to decide which side you want to belong. East... or West?"

And the way Ivan spits the word 'West' out makes Tino feel that the question really is whether he wants to belong to East's side or East's side.

Because neutrality is not an option during these times even though that's what Tino is trying to have.

~.~

Tino hates the marks Ivan always leaves on his skin – as if to tell everyone that Finland is on his side, even though that is a lie – and he hates how the Russian (the Soviet, his mind offers) leaves them to places where they could easily be seen.

It is embarrassing and degrading and...

Tino touches the dark bruise on his neck and flinches as the memory of Ivan's lips sucking at the skin there comes back to his mind.

He hates these times.

"Here." Tino turns around and sees his boss – his dear, beloved president – looking at him and extending his hand which holds some kind of small box-like thing. "To cover those bruises up", he adds, eyeing at Tino's bruised upper body.

The personification of Finland blushes. "Uh, yes, thanks", he squeaks in embarrassment and takes the offered box of powder.

It is embarrassing enough that his boss knows about what happens between him and the Soviet Union but to see the marks...

It is beyond mortifying.

"We do whatever we can for you", his president says as he returns to his paperwork. "And you do whatever you can for us." The president raises his head from the papers and looks at Tino with a cautious look in his eyes. "But you should try enjoying yourself every once in a while, too."

Tino bites his lower lip as he covers his bruises with the powder. "I tried that a while ago... and that's why we're in this shitty position now", he states, his voice shaking a little bit. "It's fine if I'm not happy as long as Finland is."

Because, in the end, it's Finland that matters. Never Tino Väinämöinen. Never ever him.

~.~

The year is 1975 and the OSCE summit in Helsinki, Finland.

Tino knows this is an important thing for his country and their attempts at diplomatic neutrality.

Kekkonen is standing beside him, his presence strong and dominating as always.

I'm so lucky to have a president like him, Tino thinks adoringly as he smiles when he notices the first nations arriving with their leaders.

Even though things have gotten a lot more difficult in Finland, Tino finds himself to be able to laugh and smile for real...

And it's all thanks to his president who has been his leader for 19 years now.

~.~

Tino starts to feel worried when his president looks at him with a surprised look on his face.

"Who are you?"

Tino just stares at Kekkonen with his violet eyes wide as fear clutches his stomach.

This is not happening, please, tell me this is not happening-

And even though Kekkonen eventually recognizes him, Tino doesn't feel better.

Instead, he feels dread and fear and sadness.

This was the man he has adored for so long and now...

His happy-go-lucky facade starts to really become a facade as he watches his president slowly losing the bits of himself Tino respects and adores.

~.~

Iceland is the only one to confront him about it.

"Finland", he says with an indifferent expression on his face, "he is getting old."

Those words hurt unexpectedly lot.

"I know", Finland replies with a sorrowful look on his face, unable to make his lips curl up into a smile. "I have known for some time now."

Iceland pats him on his shoulder softly and, oddly, comfortingly. "He is only a human, after all", the island nation whispers and closes his own pair of violet eyes. "They have the tendency to get old and die."

While he knows Iceland is merely trying to comfort him – in some weird way -, those words still cut and open the old wounds of his heart.

I don't want to lose him – no, please, let him stay with me...

~.~

Soon enough Kekkonen resigns from being a presidient, setting a substitute in his place until the next election.

Tino wants to feel hopeful – maybe Kekkonen (or Urho, as he's allowed to call him) will come back after a short holiday. Certainly he will be more than welcome to come back, even despite the Iceland-incident.

But when weeks pass – maybe even months – and Tino hasn't seen him at all – not even once –, he starts to realize the severity of his condition.

He isn't going to come back.

That realization hurts even more than he initially thought.

And even though the substitute president, Mauno Koivisto, is nice enough, Tino can't help but feel lost and lonely.

~.~

When Tino hears the news on August 31st in the year 1986, he can't believe it.

He just can't.

How could something like that happen?

Of couse he knows the man has been sick – and in a very weak condition – for a long time but still...

Why did this have to happen to me?

Kekkonen has died – that is the truth, and Tino can feel it.

The man he believed in, the man he loved like a son loved his father, the man who actually managed to make Tino feel like he was worth something, worth protecting.

Now he's gone.

Gone.

Dead...

Twenty-five years of working together as a nation and a president – gone.

And Tino can't stop sobbing hysterically for the next few hours.

~.~

When he sees the grave, a sense of finality settles over him.

It is true, after all, he thinks to himself and bites his lower lip as tears prickle his eyes. It is a sunny September Sunday and Tino hates every minute of it.

"You..." Tino whispers to the tombstone, his hand clutching at his chest. "Why did you die?" he asks softly, a barely noticeable tone of accusation in it. "You weren't supposed to die..."

They had been together for twenty-five years. A quarter of a century.

"You were supposed to be here for me..." Tino continues as the first tears descend down to his cheeks. "You promised I could talk with you whenever things got too heavy for me!" he half-shouts, feeling lucky that there's no one else besides him at the cemetary.

"N-now, what am I supposed to do", Tino goes back to whispering, "I... I'm so l-lonely... I don't want to..." He thinks of Ivan and shudders at the memories. "I w-want to be h-happy like I was when you w-were here..."

His chest hurts and Tino has a faint feeling that this is what it means to care for someone – to be hurt, to cry for them, to feel endless pain – and he wonders why he's so stupid.

Kekkonen had always been a mere human – a very important one – and mortal. Death had always been waiting for him.

"Why couldn't you be me instead?" Tino asks out loud, slowly falling to his knees on to the ground and bowing his head down to hide the tears. "Y-you would have been perfect as Finland, as Suomi... I... What am I... I'm not even able to do anything for my people..."

Yes, that's right... Tino has always been a failure as a personification. Too weak, too expressive, too easily broken.

He is nothing like how a Finn should be. He is nothing like a true Finn is.

He is just Tino who doesn't belong there...

Even though he desperately wants to.

A hand touches gently his shoulder and Tino is very quick at getting up and staggering back before raising his eyes to see who the intruder is.

It's Sweden.

"S-Sweden", Tino stammers and tries to wipe the tears away from his eyes but is stopped by the Swede who silently pulls him into a tight hug.

Despite his unnatural dislike for the Swede, Tino hugs him back and cries onto his chest for a very long time.

He doesn't even know why Berwald is there but he doesn't particularly want to know.

He's just so happy that someone is there to give him comfort.

~.~

"You should have helped me", Eduard says accusingly as they are leaning onto each other in the soft sofa. "You should have, Tino."

"I'm sorry", Tino whispers quietly and gazes away from his best friend. "I... I would like to say it's because of my president, but..." His violet eyes narrow in a pained way. "I don't want to cause any trouble with Ivan and I know it's selfish to think like that, but..."

Eduard smiles at his friend's stammering speech. "Stupid, I know that", he laughs gently and holds Tino's hand in his own. "I think", the Estonian says a bit more seriously now, "that I know just how hard it has been for you."

Tino shakes his head and squeezes Eduard's hand. "Not as hard as it has been for you – you lived in the same house as the Soviet Union", he whispers guiltily. "I... I wish I could have helped you out more."

"There's no way you could have done that", the Estonian says and pats Tino's heads gently. "The only way you could have helped would have required you to become part of that hellhole – and I wouldn't have forgiven you if that had happened."

Tino smiles a little bit and shakes his head. "After being free and independent, even if for a little while, I couldn't go back to that house even though..." his voice fades away and his violet eyes glaze slightly.

"...I still think I loved him then", he says a bit brokenly. "I really did. Just like I loved..." Tino can't even say that other name out loud and clutches his chest from the place his heart would be.

Eduard wraps his arms around his friend and hugs him carefully, the smile gone away from his face. "I know, Tino, I know", he whispers to his friend.

"Best friends forever?"

"Best friends forever."

~.~

In the year 1995, two very important things happen to Tino.

He is accepted into European Union – which is a big thing for him – and he feels more free than he had ever felt when he sees all the other members of Union standing in the room, chattering – or fighting – with each other.

The sight of almost happy nations makes Finland smile.

The other thing has, obviously, everything to do with ice hockey. His team wins the ice hockey world championship and it is a very big deal for him since it is the very first time.

And since it is Sweden his team beats in the finals, it is like the best Christmas gift he could ever give to himself.

The. Best. Gift. EVER.

It's not overexaggerated to say that his happy laughter can be heard throughout the whole Europe that night.

~.~

It's the year 2000 and he is almost surprised when his new president is a woman.

(Almost, but not quite.)

She is the third president after Kekkonen and, just like with the two former presidents, Tino is determined not to care for her as much as he did for the one he mourned so badly for.

But, as the weeks and months pass by, Tino starts to notice that he likes this lady a lot.

She is not nearly as formal as other presidents were during her free time – she wears casual clothing, caps and – oh gosh – trousers.

While the critics keep gushing about such clothes, Tino finds himself smiling in amusement. He really... starts to like her.

She has a sense of humour, too, and she's no push-over like some people might have expected.

Tino, unexpectedly or not, thinks of her as his mother-figure.

Tino's happy – genuine – smiles become a frequent thing during the beginning of the 21st century.

~.~

He tries to write a letter in Swedish one day – which turns out to be a lot harder than he had initially thought.

Tino bites his lower lip as he tries to remember the Swedish grammar.

It's so sad, he thinks to himself as he stares at the paper on his table. There are only a few short sentences written in Swedish. I can't even write it anymore that well.

It really is sad, maybe even heartbreaking if somebody else is asked about it.

There are people in his country who only speak Swedish and he has no way to communicate with them, it seems. Besides English, but... Swedish is his second official language, damn it.

He should be able to speak it fluently.

But he isn't.

Not anymore.

It just proves how great the distance between him and Sweden really is – emotionally, not geographically.

Tino sighs and throws the paper away.

It's not like he would have sent it to Berwald anyways – his Finnish pride would have stopped him from doing so.

That doesn't mean he can't feel sad about it, though.

~.~

One beautiful day, he finds one Finnish mark in his bedroom, and it makes him feel nostalgic.

It's been so long... He abandoned marks in 2002 for euros and it hasn't been too long since then but it feels like an eternity for him.

He cleans the coin with a piece of fabric and stares at it in awe.

His own currency... Russia gave it to him all those decades ago.

Tino smiles sadly when he remembers those times when he lived with Russia. He was so happy back then... So stupidly and naively happy.

That's what love does, he thinks to himself as he puts the coin away and starts to move around his house. Stupid, dangerous thing.

Yet, it had been such an important thing to him back then and he had been ready to ignore everything else for it.

I was such a moron, Tino thinks to himself and smiles at the sunshine leaking into the room from the open window. We don't get happy endings where we can be with the one we love...

It doesn't hurt to think like that, since he has accepted it.

That still doesn't stop Tino from crying himself to sleep sometimes, though.

~.~

Smile, and everything will be okay.

Don't show your weaknesses.

Never, ever let love make you vulnerable.

When everything hurts, keep moving forward through the pain and tears.

And when happy times come, don't trust those moments to last forever - they will not - and cherish them.

A/N: 45 pages. WTF IS WRONG WITH ME?

TRANSLATIONS (some of them are so obvious but just to make sure...)

Österland - Eastland (or something akin to that) (Swedish)

Minä - I (Finnish)

Sinä - you (Finnish)

Minä en rakasta sinua enää - I don't love you anymore (Finnish)

Itsenäisyys - Independence (Finnish)

Jag älskar dig - I love you (Swedish)

Ei tämä ole hulluutta - This is not madness (Finnish)

Ei ollenkaan - Not at all (Finnish)

Anteeksi - Sorry (Finnish)

Antakaa minulle anteeksi - Forgive me (Finnish)

Suomi - Finland (Finnish)