*Soviet Reprisal* 2P!Russia X Reader FINAL

Notes:
-Final Chapter ^^ This is the 5th part to my Soviet Reprisal, and the final, and I whipped it out in no time flat! I feel weird ending in 5 chapters, but I feel more accomplished about it this way xD And to think it's a request ^^ You better like this ending, Chiyoyo xD Gah! Fluffeh ending is fluffeh!! DX
WARNINGS: Violence, slight gore, language, sad situations, slight mention of Nazism, and war (Don't say I didn't warn you)
*-Nazi reference FTW 8D
*Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, the Characters, or You; I only own the plot
-

Ivan had come back to his room to retrieve you after lunch, which occurred downstairs not an hour after he had stormed out of the room in a fit of rage. When he returned, his expression was softer, almost apologetic, and he was more patient with you when you needed to use the restroom before you left.

Now you walked down the long corridor behind the man who has changed your life, on your way to finally solve the case of what happened to your dear friend, the one who you had lost during the initial explosion on the German city. Now you had the chance to see her, and see what had really happened to her. You were fearful, yet excited all the same.

Ivan stopped in front of one of many white doors, this one labeled in Russian handwriting. You couldn't read it, but it was different than the others that you had passed. As he opened the door, you couldn't help but feel your heart beat frantically. What kind of shape would she be in?

You were led down another smaller hall, passing people that lay in bed, all with large or fatal injuries. You didn't like this at all. When you rounded a corner, you saw her laying on a pristine white bed, her skin nearly as white as the fabric she lay on. She looked…dead.

"_____, here is your friend as promised," Ivan spoke, walking so that he stood at the end of the bed, his eyes looking up to yours. "She is not awake at the moment, though," he spoke in a slightly sorrowful tone. You looked at her face, seeing the calm, pale expression, her lips lightly parted to let the steady breathing escape her lips. Her chest was still rising and falling in time, so you could trust Ivan that she was still very much alive, like he promised. But she didn't look it; she looked fragile and ghostly, like she near the point of death.

"Why is she so pale?" you couldn't help but ask, your hand gently reaching out to her pale one. It was cold, extremely cold, like she hadn't been active in days.

"It happens when one is recovering from broken bones," Ivan simply spoke, his red eyes still locked onto your saddened expression. You hadn't realized it, but your face looked as if you were near tears.

"What kind of broken bones?" you asked another question, letting your hand fall back down to rest at your side as you examined her face. She still looked so peaceful, like there was a small smile on her lips. You could only imagine what kind of wild dream she was having. But then, you remembered when she was ripped out of your house, screaming and crying tears of pain and panic. Why had she been so afraid?

"She shattered two vertebrae in her lower back, as well as a cervical vertebrae," he explained calmly. "She could have been killed instantly, but the breaks were not powerful and only cut off the nerves to her legs," he continued, "our doctors have confirmed it," he quickly added.

"So, that means," you paused, letting your mind think of what it meant to have the nerves pinched. She could have no feeling in those areas anymore, or she could be…

"She's paralyzed from the waist down," he spoke quietly, shattering your heart. Your hand covered your mouth as you looked down at her face with wide eyes, unbelieving what you just heard. No, this couldn't happen to someone as sweet and caring as her. She was such a good, innocent person; she didn't deserve something like this to happen to her.

"I-is it permanent?" you barely managed, tears pricking the edges of your eyes. If he said yes, then you would break down right there, not caring who saw you or what they thought of you.

"No, she will heal eventually, but it will take a year or so. Or at least that is what the doctors have told me," he answered.

"When did they tell you this?" you asked, wondering why they would tell about a single person's condition when there were others in the building, possibly much more than you saw just now.

"When I asked a few of them to pay special attention to her," he explained, his eyes moving from your face to your friend's, not wanting to look into your eyes. Your heart stopped.

"Why did you do it?" You didn't care if your questions were getting annoying; you needed to know why he would do such a thing like that, to make sure that she was treated right. He didn't even know her.

"Because when I saw how you cried for her at the initial attack, I knew you two were close. And then when I was informed we had an intensely injured prisoner, I knew it had to be her. So, I ordered her to be brought here to the hospital, to ensure that she was kept alive. Turns out, the injuries were not live-threatening. That's when I decided to keep updated on her condition, for you. But…" he looked down, his eyes softening, "I could never bring myself to tell you about her. I feared that once you found out about her, you would want to take her and return to America, for her safety."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Ivan had done all those things for you, but never told you because he was afraid you would leave? When you thought about it, you had done all those things for your friend, and getting her out this prison camp sounded like the best option at the moment. Sure she wouldn't have these doctors who were already familiar with her case, but she could still get the medical attention she needed. But, the thought of just leaving Ivan and acting like he never existed seemed harsh.

"Why are you worried about me leaving?" you asked him quietly, looking back at him, searching his red eyes for something about what he was feeling. His eyes were locked onto the bed where your friend lay, his eyelashes covering most of his vibrant crimson orbs.

"I-I don't know," he replied, sighing inwardly. You knew there was a reason, and so did he, but he wasn't going to tell you. He then took a step back, shoving his gloved hands into his jacket pockets, his eyes looking back up to yours. "You're welcome to visit her whenever you like," he told you before he turned on his heel and started to walk out of the room.

Looking back down at your friend, you could see what looked like a smile on her lips. Smiling gently, you gave a mental farewell and followed Ivan.

~

It had been three weeks since that day, and you had to admit, things were starting to calm down around the camp. The prisoners didn't have to work as much since the soldiers that were going off into war were beginning to die off like flies. There must have been some kind of gas in the air*, but both sides of the war were starting to dwindle. Though Russia didn't seem to mind, his boss was growing desperate to try and defeat the opposing side of the war he started. You still weren't sure why he decided to start a war to prove his point, or even what that point was about, but you weren't about to question him.

In those three weeks that had passed, you began to notice Ivan's different behaviors around you. Sometimes he was in a joking mood, and other times he was so shut-up and singled out that he wouldn't even greet you when you walked into the house. And you hadn't been seeing him just to keep your friend alive, you had been seeing him because you grew used to his company, and you always wanted him to be there when you went to visit your friend, for comfort. But, you would never admit that to him, in fear of his rejection.

Though, sometimes he would ask you to join him for dinner in his room, where he would usually have special treats like chocolate or cake on occasion; everything else was basic meat and bread. And other times he would bring you to his room later in the evening, and attempt to persuade you  to engage in sexual activities; only twice had he been able to get as far as removing your shirt. But you didn't mind spending alone time with him. Despite the fact he took your virginity, you couldn't bring yourself to hate him, especially since his actions were getting softer. He was always making himself look more and more like a lost child trying to find comfort, and that seemed like the right analogy to you.

As you sat in his room, you played around with your hair, putting it into a side braid, combing it out, and redoing the braid to pass the time. Now that your hand was healed, it was much easier to use it, so now while you waited for his meeting with his boss to get over, you had something to do rather than just stare at the wall blankly.

The sound of heavy footsteps caught your attention, making you look up towards the large wooden door with eagerness. You were curious as to what the meeting was about, and if Ivan would even share any information with you.

As the door opened, you immediately saw his pained, emotionless, expression. His eyes were lowered, his jaw clenched as his eyebrows were furrowed. Your mood fell; something must have gone wrong.

"What's wrong?" you asked him cautiously, letting your hair fall from its braid. He simply sighed, his eyes still glued to the ground.

"My boss has been forced to surrender," he started to speak, his tone weak and full of sorrow. "All prisoners are being released today at noon." You looked over at the clock, seeing noon was only a couple of hours away.

"Do you mean every pri-" you started, but were interrupted.

"That includes you and your friend, _____," he spoke sourly, his eyes looking up into yours finally. When they did, you were shocked. He looked like he was about to cry, like actual tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but he was easily batting them away, keeping them from spilling. The edges were starting to grow slightly puffy as well.

You didn't know what to think, in all actuality. It almost didn't seem real, like he was just saying some kind of joke; however, the look in his eyes told you he was very serious. You could finally get out of this Hell, and take your friend somewhere safe. But at the same time, you almost didn't want to leave Ivan. He would have to deal with the aftermath of all the war, and that's something no one wants to go through, especially alone. The war's already taken its toll on the poor man, and now he has to suffer further.

"What if… some of them don't want to leave?" you asked, curiously. You didn't say anything about yourself, so maybe he would just answer without including you into the topic.

"Why would they want to stay? Being here has ruined their lives one way or another. Why do you think so many killed themselves?" he spoke seriously, his gaze never wavering.

"What about the ones who were treated well? That didn't have to go through situations like that?" you asked him. Surely there were more people than just you who were treated equally while in this prison camp.

"It's prison. Who would ever get treated decently in prison?" he spoke, his teeth starting to clench. You didn't like it when his teeth clenched, but you had to persist, to try and get through to him.

"Me," you simply told him, "you treated me so much better than all the others. Even though you refuse to tell me why, I know that there's a special reason as to why I'm not out there, being abused and doing back-breaking work like the men and women," you told him, seeing his expression soften. "You can tell me why, Ivan."

He looked down in thought, his fists clenching tightly, the leather protesting against the tautness. Why couldn't he just say it? He had been battling these feelings for three damn weeks now, and he still hadn't built up the right words to say. He didn't want you to go, but he knew you were probably dying to get out of his life.

"You can make the choice," he suddenly changed the subject, thinking it was the best thing for now. "You can take your friend and leave, or you can both stay here with me," he decided. He would give you the choice, and let you make the decision he couldn't. If he would have it his way, he would keep you with him out of selfishness. But, another part of him would say to send you home, to get you as far from this war-infested atmosphere as possible.

"My choice," you repeated, getting off of the bed so that you stood on your feet. Your eyes drifted down in thought before they snapped back up to Ivan. "To be honest, getting out of here does sound kind of nice," you spoke. You saw Ivan visibly stiffen at your words, his eyes looking as though you had just stabbed his heart with a butter knife. "But," you paused.

"But what?" he asked, taking a daring step closer to you. You saw this, and took a step forward as well. "I don't like the idea of never seeing you again. Sure you might have terrified me at first, and threatened me, but I learned who you really are, Ivan," you spoke his name smoothly.

"And who am I?" he asked curiously, not sure about his own outlook of himself. He wanted to know what you thought of him as well. He took another step closer, gradually creating less space between the two of you.

"You're just another guy, who's craving for attention and comfort," you spoke with a small smile. "You forced me to do all those things because you wanted someone to be with, if even for a few moments. Just like that one night, you didn't leave after you finished the job, forgetting about it the next day. You stayed with me, even cuddled if you will," you spoke, taking a step closer to him as well. You could see something blooming in his eyes, but you weren't sure what exactly it could be. Possibly shock?

"I never realized how much that makes sense," he admitted. "I always felt like I was doing it to get away from these angry feelings of revenge. But really, they weren't even my feelings to begin with; they were my boss's," he spoke, taking another step closer. Now it was only a few feet of air between you and Ivan.

"Yes, you just wanted to believe that you sought revenge and needed a way to vent your frustration, but it wasn't that at all," you added to it. You could see the expression on his face was beginning to soften up.

"So, what is your choice, _____?" he asked, taking another step closer that you were well within arm's reach.

You couldn't help but feel proud, like you had solved the riddle of this man. And now you had a chance to learn even more about him. But maybe it wasn't the need to learn more about him that egged you to stay, but some other feelings?

"I want to stay here with (Friend's name) and you, for as long need be." Instantly, his arms shot out as he pulled you into his chest tightly. You couldn't help but return his hug, smelling his scent of leather and smoke from the fireplace.

"That is a good decision," he smiled to himself, letting his lips fall onto the top of your head. "Now I do not have to worry about you leaving me, right, _____?"

Your smile widened a little. "Of course, Ivan. I'll always be there for you and (Friend's name)," you spoke into his jacket. You then pulled back a little to ask, "Why are you so afraid of me leaving, anyways?"

"Because I think… that I love you."

The End ~