[Part 4] Red (1a/?) (Russia/Canada Mental Recovery + Hurt/Comfort)
anonymous
September 26 2011, 04:15:37 UTC
So, uh, this was sitting on my hard drive for 2.5 years. I am a slow writer. ^^; There will be multiple parts.
The original prompt was "Something leaves Canada completely mentally broken, and Russia decides to comfort and take care of Matthew to make him become functionally normal again. Bonus points for Russia at first having no clue how to take care of somebody so traumatized, but eventually figuring it out." and it can be found here: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/6850.html?thread=10336450
Warning: This fill involves nonconsensual situations, abuse and violence. There are also several instances of profanity.
Now then:
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Title: Red
Ivan had only just finally begun to relax - a warm fire, an icy bottle of vodka, and no one around for miles to bother him, no Party members or politik or fucking Belarus - when a loud thump against the door interrupted his evening. He rose to his feet, confused. There should be no one
( ... )
Red (1b/?)
anonymous
September 26 2011, 04:17:41 UTC
While the tub filled, he rolled up his sleeves and set to removing Matthew’s ice-crusted clothing. Carefully he got the heavy coat - made heavier by the weight of the snow - off him, and set it aside, and saw - oh. That shoulder didn’t look right. He’d have to fix it
( ... )
Re: Red (1d/?)
anonymous
September 26 2011, 04:19:50 UTC
He finished up as quickly as he could, noting as he did that several of the wounds would probably need to be sewn shut. Whoever had done this hadn’t done so systematically; there was no pattern to his injuries...whoever had done this wasn’t experienced with torture. But who? That would have to wait. “Now we just need to bandage you,” he said softly. Matthew didn’t give any indication that he had heard
( ... )
Red (2a/?)
anonymous
September 28 2011, 17:39:30 UTC
Oh wow, thanks for the feedback you guys! <3 I've got most of this written but it hasn't been edited in a long time so I'm going over it. I'll try to be faster than I normally am - I don't want my capital to be Warsaw! (j/k :P
( ... )
Red (2b/?)
anonymous
September 28 2011, 17:41:12 UTC
He took hot water and a brush and set to scrubbing the blood from everything - the entryway, the hall, the bathroom. The bathroom was by far the worst, with streaks of red everywhere, and when he was done cleaning that he had to scrub the blood out from under his fingernails. He didn’t want it staying there. When that was done, he gathered up the towels, and Matthew’s clothing, and stuck them in the newly-clean bathtub which he filled with cold water. He stripped off his bloodied shirt and trousers, and put them in to soak as well. It would keep the stains from setting, overnight. He would do the laundry later; for now he needed to rest
( ... )
Re: Red (2b/?)
anonymous
September 28 2011, 17:42:46 UTC
Matthew finally woke up that afternoon, though he didn’t move from his corner. Ivan poured a mug of tea and ladled him out a bowl of oatmeal, stuck a spoon in it, and returned to the living room, holding out the bowl with a smile, feeling a little proud of himself. Now Matthew could eat. It was plain he hadn’t been getting enough food in a while
( ... )
Re: Red (2b/?)
anonymous
October 1 2011, 05:45:13 UTC
Oh wow, I just came across this by chance, but I'm so glad I did because I really enjoyed reading what you have so far!!! Everything is so vivid (for example, Russia having to clean up Matthew's blood from all over his house), it's...unsettling, obviously, but in the most engaging way.
Much to his surprise Matthew didn’t eat that day, or the following morning, though he always drank the tea Ivan made him, and finally did move from his corner to get up and use the lavatory. He walked very slowly, and Ivan knew that the injuries and the lack of food were weakening him. He wasn’t going to let this go on.
He had to rebandage Matthew’s wounds; he’d pulled some of them open as he slept. Matthew let Ivan work without protest, though he remained silent as ever.
“How did this happen?” Ivan asked, bandaging knuckles that had been reopened in a nightmare.
He felt Matthew tense, under his hands, but no answer was forthcoming.
Ivan tried to get him to eat again, with another bowl of oatmeal. He’d found the last vestiges of a sugar package hiding behind the vodka. Maybe Matthew preferred sweets.
Maybe not.
“You need to eat this. You will die if you do not eat.” A thought occurred. “Is that what you are trying to do?”
When he returned that evening Matthew was toying with the spoon, though it looked like he hadn’t yet eaten anything.
Ivan sat down across from him, taking care to sit out of reach. He wasn’t giving himself a chance to do that again.
It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, and when he finally spoke he wasn’t looking at Matthew, but through him, caught in the past.
“I have been in a similar situation, Matvei.” So many times. He remembered them, remembered invading nations and rebellions and his boss, and would have shuddered except for centuries of practice at making himself forget, making himself too strong to shudder. Was this what happened when a nation got old? They all had scars, all the old ones, he and Ludwig and Yao...
“And I know… I know it hurts, and I know that it is too much to bear, but it is who we are. We are nations. We live through it and we survive and we do what we must. We look after our people
( ... )
Warning: You know that thing I said earlier about ‘some instances of profanity’? Change ‘some’ to ‘numerous.’ I, uh, may be taking some liberties with the original prompt. ^^; ------
Matthew slept better that night. Ivan was able to convince him to move from the corner and actually go to sleep on the mattress. He even ate breakfast (although it was more like lunchtime by the time he woke up), though he remained mostly silent.
When that was done Ivan sat down across from him. Matthew still preferred sitting in the corner, and Ivan couldn’t fault him for that. He understood wanting to watch his back. “Matvei,” he said, “I must speak with you.”
Matthew looked unsure. He bit his lower lip, and thought, as Ivan waited. Finally he nodded.
Ivan nodded in return. “Matvei, I want to help you, but there are things I must know. Do you want to remain here, or do you want to return to Canada
( ... )
The original prompt was "Something leaves Canada completely mentally broken, and Russia decides to comfort and take care of Matthew to make him become functionally normal again. Bonus points for Russia at first having no clue how to take care of somebody so traumatized, but eventually figuring it out." and it can be found here: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/6850.html?thread=10336450
Warning: This fill involves nonconsensual situations, abuse and violence. There are also several instances of profanity.
Now then:
-----------------------
Title: Red
Ivan had only just finally begun to relax - a warm fire, an icy bottle of vodka, and no one around for miles to bother him, no Party members or politik or fucking Belarus - when a loud thump against the door interrupted his evening. He rose to his feet, confused. There should be no one ( ... )
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Very much looking forward to the next update!
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Or your capital will become Warsaw! XD
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Keep up the good work! :)
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Much to his surprise Matthew didn’t eat that day, or the following morning, though he always drank the tea Ivan made him, and finally did move from his corner to get up and use the lavatory. He walked very slowly, and Ivan knew that the injuries and the lack of food were weakening him. He wasn’t going to let this go on.
He had to rebandage Matthew’s wounds; he’d pulled some of them open as he slept. Matthew let Ivan work without protest, though he remained silent as ever.
“How did this happen?” Ivan asked, bandaging knuckles that had been reopened in a nightmare.
He felt Matthew tense, under his hands, but no answer was forthcoming.
Ivan tried to get him to eat again, with another bowl of oatmeal. He’d found the last vestiges of a sugar package hiding behind the vodka. Maybe Matthew preferred sweets.
Maybe not.
“You need to eat this. You will die if you do not eat.” A thought occurred. “Is that what you are trying to do?”
Matthew said nothing, but turned his face away.
Blyad’. He’d never been good at talking ( ... )
Reply
Ivan sat down across from him, taking care to sit out of reach. He wasn’t giving himself a chance to do that again.
It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, and when he finally spoke he wasn’t looking at Matthew, but through him, caught in the past.
“I have been in a similar situation, Matvei.” So many times. He remembered them, remembered invading nations and rebellions and his boss, and would have shuddered except for centuries of practice at making himself forget, making himself too strong to shudder. Was this what happened when a nation got old? They all had scars, all the old ones, he and Ludwig and Yao...
“And I know… I know it hurts, and I know that it is too much to bear, but it is who we are. We are nations. We live through it and we survive and we do what we must. We look after our people ( ... )
Reply
------
Matthew slept better that night. Ivan was able to convince him to move from the corner and actually go to sleep on the mattress. He even ate breakfast (although it was more like lunchtime by the time he woke up), though he remained mostly silent.
When that was done Ivan sat down across from him. Matthew still preferred sitting in the corner, and Ivan couldn’t fault him for that. He understood wanting to watch his back. “Matvei,” he said, “I must speak with you.”
Matthew looked unsure. He bit his lower lip, and thought, as Ivan waited. Finally he nodded.
Ivan nodded in return. “Matvei, I want to help you, but there are things I must know. Do you want to remain here, or do you want to return to Canada ( ... )
Reply
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