× Part 2 of 'Цветы...'

× Requested by @Sharkzter

× Title means '...on your grave'

× Disclaimer: This story contains blood, guns, knives, slight gore and character death. If you're not comfortable with these things, please do not continue reading! Stay safe <3

× This story contains USSR. I DO NOT support communism! The character's only used in a fictional story, he doesn't mean any harm!

1939, February

Snow covered everything. The soil, the rocks, the trees and the people who used it as hideout. It helped them hide their weapons and themselves from the Russians who were attacking them. All of them were tired but they kept fighting.

Finland was laying on his stomach, holding a sniper, scanning through the land. He was ready to shoot anything that moved but there was nothing in the distance. His comrade, Olavi, was doing the same thing. They were laying on the ground, in silence until the human whispered.

"I see someone moving behind that large rock but I can't see them fully from this angle." Finland immediately turned his weapon to the direction of the rock. His friend was right, there was definitely someone moving around but he didn't want to shoot as it could have been one of their people. The man had an ushanka on and a gun in his hands but there was nothing that would tell them whose side he was on. 

"C'mon, turn around," whispered Finland as the man slowly started turning to their direction. When he finally saw his face he could feel his blood turn to ice. He had fair hair that was shoulder-length and tired, light brown eyes. Finland knew that their natural colour was yellow but of course in his human-form, Soviet couldn't have golden eyes.

Olavi next to him realized that the target was Russian but right before he could shoot him, the country shoved him a little. He missed Soviet by a few inches who immediately took shelter behind the rock.

"What was that good for? Now he's hiding," he snarled at Finland who felt relieved and angry at himself at the same time. Really, what was that good for?

"He's not human," he answered calmly, looking into Olavi's eyes. "He's the Soviet Union."

"And? I could've shot the bastard." He looked back into the sniper but he didn't see the country. He was hiding.

"I wouldn't want to shoot him if I was you. You can't kill him."

"But you can. But good luck now, that you scared him off." Olavi scoffed.

Finland looked back into the scope. He didn't know why he prevented Olavi from shooting the enemy. It was automatic even though he stopped loving Soviet as soon as he started fighting on the front. At least that's what he thought.

He waited for the Russian to show himself and decided that he would show him who he was messing with. He could feel the anger build up in his chest as he waited. And he waited. And waited. It was a game of patience that he knew Soviet will loose because he couldn't wait for long. They had food and water but he didn't. They had warm clothes on them and he wasn't wearing too much layers. They had backup and he didn't.

An hour had gone by without any movement. Then another. They've been laying there for two hours and Soviet still didn't show himself. Finland was about to say that they should go because it's going to be dark anyways when an ushanka flew a few meters away from the rock where the country was hiding. If they were more alerted, they would've shot it immediately but the time that passed by made them sleepy and the cold slowed down their reflexes. So the hat just laid there in the snow and soon, Soviet stood up thinking that they were gone. He went to grab the ushanka and Olavi started to urge Finland.

"Go on, shoot!" he said but the country just waited. He didn't want to kill the country, he just wanted to make sure that USSR learned for the rest of his life that he couldn't mess with the Finns. So when he finally saw the man's right eye - where the sickle and star were in his true form - he aimed and shot. 

The bullet flew through the air and hit the Russian exactly in the eye. The country yelled in pain as the metal shredded his eyeball and he stumbled back to his hiding place. The yell made Finland shiver and he glared at the blood marks in the snow. He felt numb, even when Olavi congratulated him. He felt nothing and it scared him somewhere deep down. He just hurt one of the people he loved.

⋆✻⋆

1940, March

Finland slowly walked through the building, Russian soldiers surrounding and leading him. He was dressed in an elegant suit and had a cold expression just like last time he was in Moscow. Except last time he came here to spy, not to sign treaties he didn't even want to accept. He silently exhaled through his nose when they finally reached the door that led to his office. One of the men knocked on it and when he got the permission, he opened it.

They stepped into the room and stood there for a moment. The country sitting in the chair lazily waved and the soldiers stepped to the wall and stayed there, without moving.

Soviet Union looked at Finland but with only one eye. His right one was covered by a black eye patch that had a golden sickle and hammer on it. He politely smiled at Finland - who didn't return it - and gestured towards a sofa.

"Finland, my good old friend! Please, have a seat."

"I didn't come here to chat with you. I came here to sign a paper, if I'm correct." His voice was as cold as his face but Soviet's smile didn't change. He just looked at Finland mockingly.

"Of course. Formal, as always." He stood up and started rummaging through his drawers. "Here it is!" He put the peace treaty on the table and Finland picked it up and started reading it. He could feel his stomach drop when he saw that he had to give eleven percent of his land to the Russians but he didn't show any emotions. He picked up a pen and slowly wrote down his name on the paper right next to Soviet's, who already did it. He felt sick but just looked at the smiling country with cold eyes.

"I think I'm done here," he said and wanted to open the door but two soldiers stood there, not moving an inch. Finland scoffed and turned back.

"Tell your dogs to let me out."

"Oh, I will. But we're not quite done here." USSR stood up and put his hands in his pockets. The Finn could see a flash of metal but he didn't move.

"We are done. Now let me go." His voice was demanding as he was watching the taller one approach him slowly. He couldn't help but think of a cat and mouse, in a room, all alone. And he was the mouse.

"You know, they say 'eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth.'" Soviet got a small knife out of his pocket and started playing with it. "And you took my eye out."

"Why do you think it was me?" Finland was watching the knife, ready to jump away at the slightest suspicious movement.

"Because it didn't heal and it never will." That was true. If a human shot his eye out, it would've grown back by now.

"So you're going to cut my eyeball out," he said in a calm voice, still looking at the little weapon in the other's hand.

"Нет. I'm going to be fair and since I already took your land,"—he smirked—"I won't blind you. But I'll still give you something to remember."

He could feel two people grabbing him from behind and making him stay put while Soviet stepped rigth in front of him with a disgustingly sweet smile. Finland tried to break free but the two soldiers held him and the Russian country grabbed his face with one hand. They looked into each other's eyes before Soviet held up the knife.

"Don't move or I might blind you by accident."

The knife sliced through his skin, right into the flesh. USSR slowly dragged the knife from his forehead, leaving his eyeball out until he got to the corner of his mouth. Blood started pouring out from the wound, covering the right side of his face, blinding him. He could only see red and when the soldiers let him go, he collapsed onto the floor, trying to stop the bleeding. He could barely hear the footsteps around him but he knew that Soviet stood in front of him, watching him suffer. He felt someone grab him and press a piece of cloth onto the wound, then bandaged it.

"Now, we're done." He could hear Soviet say it but it was like he was underwater. He felt dizzy as he stood up and without saying a word, left. He didn't remember how he got to the airport.

⋆✻⋆

1990, February

Finland stood in front of the door of a house in a Russian city near Moscow. He took a deep breath in and anxiously ran his fingers over the scar on the right side of his face. He waited for another few moments, then knocked. Nothing happened for seconds before he heard footsteps approaching. The lock clicked and the door opened.

Russia stood there, looking at him with the same golden eyes his father had. They stared at each other and Finland broke the silence first.

"I'd like to see USSR," he said in Russian.

"I don't think he would like to see you but who am I to stop you?" Russia scoffed and stepped aside to let him in. The Finnish walked in, took his shoes and jacket off while the other one walked into another room which Finland thought was the living room. He could barely hear the conversation.

"Папа, you have a visitor," Russia said to the other man in the room.

"Who is it?" Finland shivered at the voice. He hadn't heard it for fifty years.

"Финляндия." The older one sighed at that.

"Alright. Thank you, Россия." Russia stepped out and motioned for him to go into the room before he went upstairs. Finland walked to the room and stepped in.

USSR sat on a sofa, a book on his lap, opened. He was probably reading before he arrived. He didn't change much since Finland last saw him. He only looked more tired than before and had more scars from. He looked at the guest, cold and emotionless. Finland still remembered how his eyes were filled with love many years ago. Now he had one eye and no love left.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want to talk." They stared at each other for a moment.

"And I guess you won't leave if I tell you to?"

"No." The Russian scoffed at that. 

"Fine. Have seat." Finland sat down on the couch and tried to get his thoughts together. Soviet knew that so he didn't say anything, just waited. They sat in silence for minutes.

"I'm s—" the Finnish started but was interrupted by Soviet.

"I don't want to hear your apologies. They don't change anything, so save them for yourself." This was followed by more silence. They couldn't look at each other so Soviet stared out the window and Finland was looking at his hands. 

"Do you remember when I said I love you? The night before you caugth me?" He wasn't sure if the other one remembered such little things but he knew it was first time they said it to each other and it was a big thing for him.

"Those were lies—"

"Ei," he said. "They weren't." He saw that Soviet wanted to say something so he quickly continued.

"No, please, let me speak." USSR stayed silent. "Thank you. I didn't lie when I said it. I did love you."

He quietly told Soviet the whole thing from his point of view and he was thankful that he wasn't interrupted. He couldn't look at the Russian so he was more of talking to the floor and when he sometimes looked up, he always saw USSR staring at and listening to him. He finished talking after twenty minutes and waited. After a while, Soviet finally talked up.

"You broke my heart the day you left," he said quietly.

"I know."

"You hurt me."

"I know. I hurt both of us." He felt like he was about to cry but he held back the tears. "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have let our relationship become what it became. Gosh, I should never have let it start in the first place! But it was—"

"Good," Soviet said, finishing his sentence. "It was good and we needed it even though it ended ugly. It was just... It wasn't meant to be." He stood up, made his way to the couch and sat down right next to Finland who for the first time in many years didn't feel uncomfortable in Soviet's presence. They sat there for a while, just thinking quietly before the smaller one sighed and leaned against USSR who just let him stay in that position.

"Will you forgive me if I forgive you as well?" the Russian asked.

"You mean forgive you for starting a war with me, taking my land, giving me an ugly-ass scar and—"

"Yes, all of that." Soviet chuckled. "And I'll forgive you for breaking my heart into millions of pieces, you little piece of shit." Finland laughed at that.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic." There was a pause. "I'll forgive you."

"Then I'll forgive you too."

⋆✻⋆

Then I'll forgive you too.

This sentence repeated over and over in his head as he stared at the grave in front of him. He took a deep breath and bent down to put the sunflowers on it. He watched the cool wind brush the petals as he looked at the title on the cold stone. 

Here lies the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

1917-1991

"Death is the solution to all problems. No man - no problems."

[I hope you enjoyed if you did please press the lil star! I also appreciate every comment and please tell me if I made a mistake so I can learn from it and fix it. Don't forget to drink water! <3]