Title: They Call It Night; And I Know It Well
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character/Pairing: Prussia mainly, lots of Belarus and Russia and mentions of Ukraine.
Rating: R for graphic themes. (Warning: Chernobyl, people.)
Summary: Prussia is sent to find Belarus in the aftermath of Chernobyl.
Note: OKAY I have been sitting on this for days now, and after nitpicking at this constantly, idk what to do with it anymore and I'm manning up and posting it. Excuse the really fail writing on this - I meant for it to be choppy and uneven, but I'm sorry if it's just crap really. /dies I took a lot of liberties on this, and it's mostly just a weird run of thoughts. So... yeah, I'm sorry. And now I shut up.

It had started with the cries Prussia heard through the closed doors. He had hated this place - hated the distant crying he always heard through the thin walls - but this was different. These were not moans, not screams for help - these were cries of outright pain. Cries of a woman in agony.

Prussia tried to ignore it at first. Tried to ignore the multitude of feet running by his door or the yells of soldiers and men and arms. But it was the cries that he could not ignore. So, out he trudged, out he snuck around the haunted and decaying corners of Russia's house to where he heard the crying and the sobs.

And that was when he was greeted with the cold barrier of Russia himself.

Then, then it was an usher into another room and a hush here and a please do not look that is not for you again and again. And then is when Prussia heard the rumors flying around him everywhere.

There had been some sort of explosion. Some sort of something. And Russia looked like hell had warmed over - he had never seen the giant child of a man go so pale and sick so fast, even if he just smiled all the same and seemed to try to act as if nothing was the matter.

Honestly, Prussia didn't give two fucks.

But then the crying grew worse (it sounded like someone had just realized something - that something had just dawned on them and that knowledge was agony onto itself) - and Prussia finally noted that two women that were always by that Russian's side were missing. And one such crying voice sounded very much like a certain kind hearted woman who was always all smiles and warmth and hair the colour of golden suns - not sobs and cries of pain.

When Prussia opened his mouth to speak, Russia was back again - all smiles and broken somethings on the edge of his mind, and he asked Prussia very politely to find his youngest sister.

Prussia wanted to tell him very politely to go fuck himself, but the soldiers surrounding him had other ideas.

So, off he was, off into the woods and the marshes and the lower lands of Byelorussia, looking for that pale sick little girl. Why the stupid oaf of a leader could not tear himself away for two moments to find her was beyond Prussia (unless those cries really were Ukraine and then this would really be shit indeed). But, whatever this was, it was bad, it was very bad. That's all he knew, that's all he cared to know - but he didn't care. Oh no, even as he tramped around, crawling over every nook and cranny he could muster in the short time he had to find the girl, he did not care. He hated the girl and her dark Brother (and only cared minutely for the eldest sweet girl that was probably broken somewhere right now), but he had no choice right now.

It was as he neared the southern part of her lands that he felt the chill in his bones. Something really was wrong, and he knew it then. He could feel whatever horrible thing that was turning the sky above black and strange, and that sinking in his stomach could mean any number of things. But he knew that chill as another thing - that chill that they all got when one of them was in pain. Traversing the land of a breaking country felt like you were skimming their very skin - tracing the wounds with the tip of your nails, and right now, Prussia could feel that electric pulse of pain all through him. And he had a funny feeling that it could very well effect him if he did not move quickly.

So, he ran. Ran as far south as the throbbing in his legs and mind would take him, and that's when he found her.

It was the same gasping and crying he had heard through those closed doors and thin walls that lead him to her. The same broken wailing and crying that was uncontrollable and full of the breaking of something he hadn't quite put his finger on yet.

It was when he saw her on the ground that he sorely wished that Russia had just gotten her himself.

Byelorussia was lying on her knees on the ground, retching and crying violently as she wailed in agony. But, it was not the position or the vomit that made him get chills to his very core or disturb him in very different ways. No, it was the pooling blood that was pouring out from the crevasse of her legs and all down her breaking limbs. It was also the strange and spiderwebbing burn that stemmed from her foot and seemed to snake far up her tattered and torn and burnt clothing. He could see it all - all of the burns and bloody spots. He could see so much, even through the curtain of her snow pale hair that tumbled over her shoulders in tangled knots (that were full of things he'd rather not think of).

He had to resist the urge to retch himself - the stink of burning flesh and something rotten overwhelmed him and the air all around her. It was sick. It was sickening. And all the poor broken girl before him could do was cry in agony and shake as whatever pain still traveled through her limbs took her.

It took what seemed like an age for him to go to her, to take the broken pieces of what was left of her in his arms and cradle her as gently as he could. She was still shuddering, still pouring blood from what seemed like everywhere - and Prussia could not escape that sight, that smell, as he took her as swift as he could to the waiting arms of her Brother. He knew she hated him - knew she hated him almost as much as he hated her and her Brother - but she did not respond to him. She did not even spit or grumble as he called her name over and over to see if she could just even acknowledge him taking her away from the burning over her lands. She only shook and sometimes wailed, lost in whatever had taken her sister as well.

When he laid her in the entryway - unsure of where to take her, other than where he heard the other screams of pain from - he almost did not notice the sudden rush of air as Lithuania dived past him to get to her, or the low mumble of voices that was slowly growing all around him. He almost didn't hear those tell-tale footfalls of Russia behind him, either. All he could see was the blood and the gasping, broken piece of a girl that withered on the ground before him.

But, that was when Prussia was glad that Russia was behind him, because he whipped right around and punched him full in the face. (Damned what could happen to him.)

"What did you do?!" he spat. He screamed. He didn't even like the woman - the girl - but he knew it had to deal with Russia. He knew this was something this dark child trapped in that large terrifying form did. He knew it would boil down to him. "What the hell did you do?!"

Russia seemed to cave in on himself - again such a strange reaction in that beast, Prussia hadn't seen this before - before looking at him like he had no idea what was just said. But he spoke, his voice high and clear and making his face look more calm than it really was. "It was an accident. An accident. Nothing bad, we can fix it."

"Like hell you fucking can!" Prussia snapped back. He looked back for just a moment, to see Byelorussia being held like a broken doll in Lithuania's arms - all broken bones and burning skin and still crying even as she shuddered. The stink was still there - still following him and this broken piece of flesh that was a country. His mind kept flickering back to those cries he heard from Ukraine, the ones he tried to ignore behind the closed doors as he left. "What happened?! What happened to her! And don't act like you can fucking hide this! This hurt them both, didn't it?!"

It was then, at that point, that he noticed the dripping on the floor in front of him, and the slow spread of red bleeding through Russia's coat. Prussia stopped dead, and watched as Russia looked down at his arm silently, watching the blood pool and drip down his hand. And then, he looked back up at Prussia and smiled. Smiled and clearly said that he was going to hide through that smile. Smiled that stupid, broken lying smile and spoke in that same high, too clear voice. Smiled and made an already broken promise. This was truly on his hands as well, and he was going to literately grin and bear it, just like the monster Prussia thought he was.

"It was just an accident. We can fix it. I promise."

After they took Byelorussia and laid her beside her sister - her broken, still burning sister that had that same stink and burn all down her neck instead of her legs - Prussia decided he had seen enough of fucking blood.

FACT TIME AGAIN kinda

Byelorussia - Belarus was not called Belarus until after her independence from the Soviet Union, and had been traditionally called Byelorussia/Belorussia/etc. - or "White Russia."

Chernobyl - Belarus was technically the hardest hit in terms of damage from the Chernobyl Disaster, and is still feeling the effects very strongly. Almost 60-70% of the radioactive fallout landed on Belarus, while the rest spread mostly to parts of Russia and, of course, Ukraine. The disaster itself was very close to the border of Belarus and Ukraine - only about 16km or 10 miles away - and did massive damage. (Also, Russia somewhat attempted to cover it up, but failed miserably, aha.)