White, that was it. Nothing around him but the pallor of the snow, and the thin trees stripped to the trunk of there foliage.

Sweden sat there, motionless in the snow, back resting against a rough trunk of a tree.

His mind felt blank, except for a slight throbbing near his left temple. The fading gray light cast an unearthly glow as he watched the sun sink under the hills.

Sweden looked at his feet, and tried to move his right foot upward to stand. A sharp pain shot through Sweden's ankle and up his leg, but he didn't cry out. He just put his foot back down to rest in the snow, the chill made it feel better.

He shifted his weight, sitting up straighter, snow soaking into his coat, and sighed.

"What am I going to do?" he thought, "I can't move, and there's no one for miles around. How am I going to get home?" He knew Finland would start to worry if he didn't get home in time.

Sweden looked up at the slope he had slid down only moments before, it would be impossible for him to get to the path all by himself. Sweden sighed again, there was a feeling like a weight had sunk in his chest, making him feel even more hopeless.

The cold was sinking in; the nights chill growing worse. Sweden wrapped his coat tighter around him, watching the night sky turn from gray, to a deep blue.

It reminded him of Finland, his eyes. Those sparkling blue eyes, like the sky above him now...

Sweden sunk back into the snow, leaned his head against the tree. He felt tired, he wished Finland were here. He wished that he could somehow tell him that he would get back, and he wouldn't need to worry.

The silence made him feel alone, the snow began to fall again, but offered no comfort. Sweden closed his eyes, breathing in the chilly air.

He opened them again and looked at his hand, but there was no one to hold it. He liked it best when Finland and him held hands...

Thinking of Finland made him feel better, it made him not feel so alone. Sweden's eyelids drooped again, as the cold enveloped him in a freezing blanket; he felt his chest grow light again, like he could fly away.

"Finland..." he murmured before drifting off into unconsciousness...

"Sweden!" a voice penetrated the inky darkness, and then faded slowly away.

The sound made Sweden stir, but he couldn't think straight, his mind was muddled from the cold.

Cold.

He couldn't feel that before. Sweden felt his heart quicken, where was he? How could he get out?

"Sweden!" the voice came again, more urgently. That voice...

Sweden's eyes snapped open, he was fully awake now, and he turned his head towards the voice.

Upwards...

He looked up into Finland's face, scarf tucked around his neck, nose red from the chill. His eyes... they were filled with awful worry. No, more than that... Were those tears?

Their eyes locked, neither of them spoke. Then Finland climbed down the slope and came to Sweden's side.

"I was looking for you!" he said, sniffing to hold back tears threatening to pour down his cheeks, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Sweden's brain came to a halt, trying hard to answer his questions. Then he remembered. "I slipped..." Sweden's voice was quiet, he shifted his foot again and tensed, "I think my ankle is sprained..."

Finland looked into his friend's stiff face, trying to read his feelings. "You're so cold," Finland stroked Sweden's cheek, "We better get your home,"

Finland took off his fur coat and wrapped it around Sweden's shoulders, then knelled down in the snow beside him.

"Get on," Finland gestured with his hands. Sweden forced his numb arms to move, wrapping them around Finland's shoulders, and climbed onto his back.

Finland carried Sweden through the dark trees, snowflakes fluttering around them on their way to the ground. Sweden buried his face in Finland's coat, breathing in his sent, his mind at ease. They said nothing, and the silence weighed heavy on their journey to the little cabin that they shared.

Once home, Finland set Sweden down on the big chair in front of the fireplace. He went into the kitchen and returned with a hot mug of coco and the first aid kit.

"Here," he handed Sweden the mug, "drink up,"

Sweden took the mug from him, the warmth seared into his frozen hands. He drank in tentative sips, while Finland took off his snow soaked coat and jacket.

"He's become so serious," Sweden thought, "Why?"

Finland gently pulled off Sweden's boots, the sharp pain shot up his leg again, making him stiffen.

"Sorry!" Finland examined his foot, "It's not too bad," he smiled at him and wrapped a tight bandage around Sweden's ankle. Sweden just watched, silent and pondering as Finland worked.

Now Finland was smiling, Sweden loved it when he was happy, when he was smiling.

Fatigue clamed his body again, and Sweden fell asleep in the chair...

When Sweden next woke it was the middle of the night. He was in his own bed, tucked under the patchwork quilt.

The window outside was dark, broken only by the falling patches of white glowing in the moonlight.

Sweden looked to his left and was reassured when he saw Finland, sound asleep, beside him.

Sweden couldn't stand sleeping alone, when did that start?

He remembered when he met Finland, them traveling through the woods, escaping from Denmark's house. That brief camping trip was all it took for Sweden to fall in love. Afterwards, he always made sure that Finland was close to him; he felt he needed to protect him...

He looked into Finland's sleeping face.

So at ease, peaceful.

Sweden took the comforter and wrapped it tighter around them, putting a protective arm over Finland and holding him close. He felt his heart beating, and warm breath against his skin. It was comforting.

Then Sweden realized the real reason why he couldn't sleep without Finland by his side... He needed the company just as much as Finland did.

Sweden reached down and kissed Finland's forehead. Then, with Finland in his arms, he fell asleep.

And outside, the snow came down, coating the world in blanket of pure, undisturbed, white...