Damaged

Series: Axis Powers Hetalia / World Series Hetalia
Main Characters: Russia (Ivan Braginsky), USA (Alfred F. Jones)
Minor Characters: Lithuania (Toris Lorinaitis), England (Arthur Kirkland)
Pairings: Slightly indicated Russia/Lithuania.
Description:
Story loosely based on the Cold War, though unrelated to history.
Just something I've wanted to do for some time~ c:


NOTE: If you find any spelling or grammar errors, feel free to correct us, since our native language is swedish (and partly english).

Ivan Braginsky

Just another day, and another conference.
People having loud discussions and arguments, swearing at eachother in their own language, so that no one else would understand them. Some of them even threw their plastic glasses with water at eachother.
Ivan peacefully observed the chaos around him. He didn't feel like it was necessary to get involved in useless arguments about trifles.
The only thing he could really complain on was the fact that Alfred was annoying him just a tad bit more every meeting. Like this specific meeting, where he, even more than usual (if that's possible), dug his nose into other people's business.
Alfred was simply greedy, trying to get his hands on parts of Europe. Like he'd ever manage to do that, Ivan thought sarcastically.
Alfred was at the moment engaged in a conversation with Arthur, Francis and Antonio. Ivan observed them from a distance.

"You NEED my armies in outposts over there! I gotta be there in case something happens!" Alfred almost shouted.
Arthur protested immediately;
"We do NOT need you, Alfred. We have our own armies, we manage just fine!" And for once (and probably the first time in history), Francis agreed with Arthur.
"Oui, I don't understand why you insist so 'ard."
"Dios mío..." Antonio said at Alfred's persistence, massaging his right temple with his fingertips.
The conversation went on in a similar manner, but raised in volume and aggression, and after a while Ivan just couldn't stand Alfred's stupidity anymore. He stood up.

"Maybe you should care more about what you have, instead of nosing around in other people's things. Bad things may happen if you don't stop."
His voice, with the rough accent, rang through loud and clear, even so it was still so very calm, with a sing-song tone to it.
The whole conference quieted down, almost instantly. No one could deny the intimidating aura hiding behind that childish smile.

Alfred F. Jones

"Who asked for your opinion?!" Alfred immediatly rose from his chair and shouted at Ivan. He was in a bad mood, which made him even more loud and irritating than he normally was. "Fuck you, commie!" he said and made a very impolite gesture with his middle finger.
Arthur scowled at Alfred before glancing nervously at Ivan. It was clear that the Englishman was very afraid of Ivan. Alfred on the other hand was too furious to be afraid. He was a young and naïve man and didn't fully understand how dangerous the Russian could be.
"Behave!" Arthur hissed to his adoptive younger brother who was sitting next to him. Alfred ignored him and started to yell at Ivan again.
"Hey, why ain't ya' saying something you big, fat commie!? Cat got your tounge? Hm? HMM? STOP SMILING AND SAY SOMETHING FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!!"
The relation between the two of them had been very, very tense since the the second world war had ended. Almost anything could trigger them to start another war, and it made the rest of the participants scared.

Toris Lorinaitis

"I... am not... fat..." Ivan started almost inaudibly.
Toris could almost literally see the snap in Ivan's head, as his grin became wider.
His gaze flicked nervously between the American and the Russian, who was standing next to himself.
"Please, Ivan, calm down..." Toris whispered to the tall man. Even though he didn't like Ivan at all after all the things he'd done to him, he couldn't help but feeling responsible to take care of him.
He stood up slowly, gently touching the Russian's arm.
"Let's go." he whispered "I'll follow you home."
At first the big man didn't move an inch, just standing there, like an unmovable mountain. But after a minute he started to move, following Toris' advise, to the Lithuanian's relief.

Alfred F. Jones

"YES, YOU'RE FAT, AND DON'T TRY TO HIDE IT WITH THAT BIG COAT OF YOURS" Alfred screamed. "YOU'RE FAT AND DISGUSTING AND NOBODY LOVES YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE AN EVIL PIECE OF SHIT!!".
Arthur tried to hush him, but Alfred just continued to yell, taking no notice to the people around them, who were staring at him.
"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!!" he was panting loudly after all the screaming and shouting.
And he didn't get happier when he saw that Ivan was going to leave the room.
"DON'T YOU DARE TO LEAVE THIS MEETING, YOU FUCKING COWARD!!" Alfred continued. "COME BACK HERE!! AND STOP SMILING LIKE THAT, YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT!"
Then he smiled and let a little laugh slip out of his mouth. "Oh, that's right. You ARE an idiot!"

Toris Lorinaitis

Ivan stopped abruptly in his tracks. Toris panicked. No! No, no, please! Please, ignore him! I beg you! His thoughts rushed through his head, and the only thing he could think of was pushing Ivan out through the door with all his might, and somehow, against all odds, he managed to do that.
As he closed the door behind them he could hear Alfred chuckle tauntingly, which was cut off as the door closed shut.
When he turned to face the tall man in his company, he could hear his heavy breathing and see that he was shivering with rage, still with that wide grin on his face, staring into the air in front of him.
Toris took a hold of Ivan's arm.
"Let's go now." he said very quietly, and started to lead him down the corridor, out of the building.

They arrived at Ivan's house around dinnertime. Although, that house was almost more like a labyrinth, and it was very easy to get lost in the corridors among all the doors.
Some doors led to rooms, others to stairs, heading either up or down. Some just opened to a plain wall or a small closet, and some didn't open at all. And some of those locked rooms had weird noises coming from within.
Toris had learned early that there was no idea to question this house, or what was in the rooms, but after all his years serving as the Russian's maid, he knew his ways around the house perfectly, and he knew what doors would open and what doors would not.
Seeing as he had come all this way already, and the fact that Ivan probably wouldn't do it himself, he went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. It was first when he was mixing the ingredients that he noticed that Ivan wasn't in the kitchen with him. He went back through the short corridor, to the huge entrance hall, where he found him standing in the middle of the room. He hadn't moved since they had come in through the door.
Snow had melted off his boots and left a small puddle on the floor. But what more, his smile had also melted, off his face, leaving it expressionless.
"Come, I'm preparing dinner." Toris said softly to him the sparse russian he knew.
He took a hold of Ivan's arm like before, and led him into the kitchen, and sat him down by the small table there.
It wasn't so that there wasn't any dining room in the house, there sure was, and it was very magnificent, but it was only used for far bigger occasions than this.
Toris stroke the other man's hair once, softly, before returning to making dinner.
He finished up and served the food fairly quick. He sat down next to Ivan, and started to eat, while watching the man next to him with worried eyes.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Silence followed.
"Please, eat just a little bit?" More silence.
Toris put down his fork on the table, stood up and took a step to stand by Ivan's side.
As he put his hand on the man's hair, he could see one single tear run down his face.
Toris was almost so shocked, he stopped breathing. He had never ever during all his long years in this house seen the man before him cry, even once.
"I hate that man more than anything..."
Ivan's voice was completely void of any human warmth or emotion at all. And when Toris saw the face of the man before him as he looked at him, he knew what was going to come. So he ran, as fast as he could, through the corridors of the labyrinth, knowing that he could never get away, no matter how fast he was.
He was going to take the punishment for something he hadn't done.
This night was going to be another of those true nightmares.

Alfred F. Jones

Alfred felt pleased with himself. Now he was the one who was smiling like an idiot, though he thought he looked pretty heroic right now, the others must think that he was very brave. Helloo! He'd managed to get Ivan Braginsky to leave the meeting! The Ivan Braginsky! That scary Russian guy who noone even dared to pick a fight with.
They sat in an awkward silence for a couple of minutes before Francis decided to say something.
"Eeh... Maybe we should continue? Mathieu, you 'aven't said anything today. Do you 'ave anything on your 'eart, dear?"
"I-I..." the Canadian started, but was interrupted before he could say anything else.
"HEY! Shouldn't you guys thank me for saving you from Ivan?" Alfred was pouting like a big child. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Shut up, you uncivilized git!"
"Don't call me that, idiot! I'm a hero, and you know it! Aren't you glad that Ivan left? You're terrified of that guy!"
"I am not!"
"Yes, you are!"
"Arthur, mon cœur, Alfred iz right. We all know zat you're afraid of monsieur Braginsky" Francis chuckled. "Though it makes you look, 'ow iz it you say... cute, non?"
Alfred laughed.
"Haha, Arthur's blushing!"
And then the almost compulsory fight between the Englishman and the French had started again.

Toris Lorinaitis

~| A few months later... |~

Another one of the monthly conference meetings.
Toris had felt more and more embarrassed every meeting for the past three months.
The first month it was okay, the only visible injury was the injury on his left hand, which he could hide under the table anyway. But it got worse, and at this particular meeting he had bruises on his face, he was limping, and his breathing was strained. But those were only the, to the others, visible injuries.
One of the things that the others couldn't see was the almost newly bandaged wounds on his back, caused from a whip, held by that crazy Russian.
The reason to this behavior from Ivan's side was of frustration and anger aimed towards Alfred, and Toris knew that, so he tried to ignore the pain and act like nothing had happened... Which of course didn't work very well.
Most of the others had noticed that something was going on, during the last two meetings, but no one had said anything.
Arthur had asked, privately, if he was all right, but Toris had just smiled ruefully and said:
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?", so no one dared to question it any further.
The only one who hadn't seem to notice was Alfred. At least not until now, 'cause he sure seemed to, the way he stared so intensively at the bruised young man and the smiling Russian.

Alfred F. Jones

Alfred wasn't his usual loud-mouthed self during this particular meeting, he'd been spending the previous evening watching horror movies and didn't sleep very well that night. Alfred sat in his chair, yawning and watching the others while they were talking and discussing. That was when he noticed Toris' nasty-looking face.
Something was wrong with Toris. Alfred knew that. He had bruises all over his face, shifting between purple and blueish colours. What had happened to him? It wasn't like Toris at all to end up in a fight... Maybe he fell down the stairs?

The meeting continued smoothly (Alfred didn't notice that it was because the atmosphere was so tense, everyone tried to avoid staring at Toris).
The calm voices was so soothing, maybe if he closed his eyes for a second. Yeah, that's it. He'd feel much better if he rested. Just for a second... One second...
Alfred started to snore loudly, which, of course, annoyed a certain Englishman more than the others. Arthur kept poking and swearing at Alfred, but he just kept on sleeping.


"Uhm... Excuse me, mr. Jones, but the meeting's over"
"I'MNOTSLEEPING!" Alfred almost jumped out of his chair when Toris woke him up
"When did the meeting end? And what happened to your face? It looks like you were hit by a car!" Alfred blurted out when he saw that they were the only people left in the room.

Toris Lorinaitis

It was all so awkward. He knew everyone could see it, his injuries, and he also knew that that was probably the reason why the meeting proceeded in such a calm and smooth manner.

At the end of the meeting he saw that Alfred had fallen asleep on the table, snoring loudly. He felt bad for just leaving him there, since he actually was his friend, so as he stepped out into the corridor he pulled Ivan aside.
"Is it okay if I talk to Alfred? I'll tell him to stop... saying things, if you want to..." he said quietly, so that no one else passing them could hear it.
Ivan studied the brunette's face for a minute, trying to figure out any hidden intentions. But Toris had learned the hard way how to convince the Russian through his voice and facial expression.
"Da." he answered "But you better hurry back, I'd like you to cook dinner, and also, you know I hate being without company."
The tall man leaned in closer.
"And if you have plans to ally with that disgusting creep, you better forget about those pretty quick~" and with those words, he turned around and walked away with light steps, humming on a soft melody.
Toris let out a breath of both relief and worry, as he turned back through the door into the conference room.
Alfred was still fast asleep, and snoring as loud as before, with some drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, creating a small puddle on the table surface.
Toris gently touched the sleeping man's shoulder as he tried to wake him up, and when the blonde man woke up with a shout, jumping out of his chair, Toris felt as his heart too jumped, out of his chest.
"Dieve mano...!" he sighed "You scared me..." But Alfred didn't seem to notice the Lithuanian's statement, and threw questions at him, and when he so bluntly uttered something about the brunette's face, Toris froze for a second, but he quickly regained his mind.
"The meeting ended about..." he looked at the clock on the wall behind them "... Maybe 10 minutes ago. I just thought I'd wake you up, so that you don't sleep here all night."
He pretended that he had forgotten the comment about his face.
But Alfred surely had not. He stared at his injuries even more intense now that they were up close, studying them thoroughly.
An awkward silence followed. Toris' brain worked frenetically to find something to say, to break the silence.
"... He hit you, didn't he..." Alfred said very quietly. It wasn't a question, but a statement. Toris flinched.
"What? No! I-I just--..." He tried to come up with something, but failed horribly.
"Why? Did you steal his vodka or something?" Alfred asked, the volume of his voice almost back to normal.
"N-No, I didn't do anything--!" Toris blurted out. Alfred's face slowly changed look from being pissed to an expression of realisation.
"Was it... Because I called him a big, fat fucking commie...?"
His expression now changed to rage.
"That fucking asshole ain't gonna take shit out on my friends, for something they haven't even done..." he said, voice trembling with anger.
He walked towards the door with long strides, fuming with anger.
"N-No! Wait, stop!"
Toris tried to stop him by blocking his way through the door.

Alfred F. Jones

"That damn Russian, I'm going to kick his teeth out..." Alfred mumbled as he walked towards the door. Toris tried to stop him, but he didn't care. The anger he felt was too strong to be ignored, he had to do something, something as in beating-a-certain-person-until-he-stopped-moving. When Toris placed himself in front of the door Alfred just shoved him aside.
"Alfred, please!" Toris shouted with a trembling voice. "Please, don't!"
But Alfred just ignored him and walked away, he could hear Toris's terrified voice disappear into the distance as he marched on through the corridor.
Outside the building, next to the door, leaning against the wall, stood Ivan. It seemed like he was watching the setting sun, his face calm, and if someone dared to look closer, a tiny hint of sadness. This was something the young American certainly didn't notice. He bashed the door open.
"HEY!?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" he yelled and looked around. His eyes went dark when he saw Ivan.
"You... You..." he couldn't even find the right words. "You fucking... You evil piece of shit... How dare you...?" Alfred, now panting out of anger, was snarling and gritting his teeth.
"You hurt Toris, didn't you? You're weak... A coward, that's what you are... Hitting the weaker... You pussy!" Alfred pounced at him and punched him in the face, hitting his big nose, making it bleed. The blood was streaming down from Ivan's face, Alfred felt some kind of inner satisfaction when he saw the shock in Ivan's blood-covered face. Alfred would make him suffer. Oh yes, he would...

Ivan Braginsky

He hummed at a familiar melody as he strolled down the corridor. He could feel in his heart some kind of calm, like the kind just before a most horrible storm. He enjoyed that feeling, somehow.
As he stepped out through the door, into the world outside, he was met by a beautiful setting sun. He smiled, closed his eyes, and breathed in the warmth of the red sun.
"I'll just wait for Toris here." he thought, and leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

Just as he enjoyed the warmth from the very last rays of the dying sun, the door next to him was slammed open, followed by the only voice that surely could destroy his perfect mood right now. Ivan frowned.
He faced Alfred as the young man threw curses his way. Alfred had a ridiculous expression on his face, reminding Ivan of a pissed off kitten. It was these thoughts that made Alfred even able to catch him off-guard. The punch to his face sure was hard, but luckily not hard enough to break his nasal bone. Ivan could feel warm blood streaming down his face, and he licked it off his lips. He grinned at Alfred when he felt the iron taste in his mouth. He had waited for this for way too long. Ivan aimed his first punch towards Alfred's stomach.

Toris Lorinaitis

"Please! God, no! Shit!" Toris was practically panicking, while he limped as fast as he could down the corridor, the same way that Alfred had went. This was the very least thing that had to happen right now. He knew that Alfred was gonna get beat up pretty badly. He knew that Alfred had no idea that Ivan knew SAMBO and Systema. Those combat styles had been taught to the military since the early 1920's, and Ivan was a master of the arts.
Toris tried to think frantically of something to do, but his brain felt like a block of concrete.
As he came closer and closer to the door, he could hear the ruckus going on outside, consisting mostly of foul curse words from the American's side. He peeked out through the door, as he reached it, and what he saw more resembled a war than a fight.
Toris pulled his head back inside, still unable to think of a solution. The only thing he could think of were the men outside fighting like wild animals. Finally, some subconscious part of his brain made the decision for him, and his hand reached for his cellphone, dialling the number to the police.

When the police had finally arrive it had first taken a call for reinforcements, and then a squad of probably about twenty policemen to keep the ravaging beasts apart long enough for them to calm down. Both of the men had gotten arrested and taken into custody for interrogation.

Toris had been questioned by a kind, young policewoman, since he had made the call. She only asked a few questions on how it started and why, then she left, but not before giving him a sad look of empathy.
Toris didn't want her empathy. He just wanted Ivan and Alfred to stop fighting like small children, since this no longer affected only themselves, but the people in their surroundings.

He decided that he would pick up Ivan at the police station later to drive him home. Just of kindness, that, and because he knew that no one else would do it in his place. No one else cared enough. But before that, he needed to take a pause. And a cup of coffee.