Title: Across Time

Author: The Emcee

Summary: Ivan is the Vampire King and has reigned so for many years, many long years of anguish and sorrow and hopelessness and all because he lost his mate. Now, in an era where technology is bursting forth left and right and humankind is evolving, Ivan finds his soul mate again. But getting what you want isn't always so easy for there is always a price to pay. Ivan is willing to pay that price even if it means bringing the past to life and, with it, old enemies he believed were dead and buried. Can his love survive all that threatens them or will it consume them all?

Pairing: RusAme

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fandom.

A/N: Yay! My first attempt at a chaptered Hetalia story. Let's hope it doesn't go to hell. Let me know what you think! R&R. Enjoy!

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I

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Ivan gazed wide eyed at the bed, his hands covering most of his face with his fingers leaving just enough space between them to see. Tears followed from his eyes which turned to icy as they trickled down his cheeks and fell onto the floor, shattering into tiny shards that melted instantly. His sobs had long since subsided and his chest had stopped rising and falling with dry heaves. There was nothing else in him left to scream and cry out; all that was left was an overwhelming sorrow and the endlessly flowing tears.

Over three hundred years. Ivan had spent over three hundred years with Alfred, his mate, his родственную душy, the other half of his soul. Alfred had made him whole, had made up for everything that he had lacked, and balanced him out perfectly. Together, they made a perfect harmony and ruled over all of the vampires in the world. Never before had Ivan know a more perfect world or a perfect love. For three hundred years, he was a whole being.

And now, Alfred was gone. And why?

Ivan snarled, anger flaring in his violet colored eyes that still shed silent tears, and his fangs bit into his flesh, drawing blood that crystalized into ice upon contact with his skin. Slayers. Humans who knew the existence of vampires and did all that they could within their power to eliminate Ivan and his kind. There weren't many of them – most of them lived within a small village not that far from Ivan's current castle abode – but they were vicious and cruel animals.

Vampires did not feed on humans; why would they when vampiric blood was far more nourishing and delectable? Yet the Slayers had believed that vampires were despicable beings capable of great evil and sucking a human dry. While vampires were capable of great evil – as were humans – they did not feed upon humans. As a matter of fact, vampires stayed away from humans; after all, in order to live and thrive, harmony and peace with ones neighbors was of the highest importance. Not that that mattered to the Slayers.

They came in the middle of the day when they believed that vampires would be huddled in their 'coffins', vulnerable to the sunlight. Ivan's hands gripped each other tightly, his finger nails digging into his flesh as he recalled the memory. Alfred had been tending to the sunflowers in the garden along with Toris, one of Ivan's most trusted servants, when the Slayers had managed to scale their walls and attacked the first vampires they came into contact with.

Alfred had insisted that Toris run inside and get help while Alfred tried to reason with them. Ivan nearly laughed at the very thought of it. His Alfred had always been optimistic and kind and had always believed that everyone was inherently good. It was something Ivan had adored about his little sunflower and it was what cost Alfred his life.

By the time Ivan, Toris, and several others had reached the garden, Alfred was dead, as dead as dreams, and the Slayers were trying to get into the castle. Gilbert and Ludwig had already arrived and had already slain quite a few of their number. But they had been too late to save Alfred. It wasn't their fault, Ivan knew that, but a small part couldn't help but blame them ever so slightly. However, when the Slayers had seen just how outnumbered they truly were, they fled. They were probably hiding in their little homes in their little village.

Ivan would burn it to the ground tomorrow along with every man, woman, and child in that village. It would not bring Alfred back, and if Alfred was still alive, he would have been appalled at what Ivan had planned, but they had taken his soul mate from him and they would pay dearly.

Killing all of them would not bring Alfred back; nothing could ever, would ever, bring Alfred back, but it would satisfy him and sate his thirst for blood if only for a little while. Many humans would die, but their lives were nothing and meant nothing compared to Alfred's.

Just as soon as his anger had arrived, it subsided when Ivan's gaze refocused on Alfred's body. It was colder than ice and still as stone on the bed that they shared. Ivan would have to take Alfred's body into the tombs beneath the castle and lay his beloved sunflower to rest there, but he wasn't sure if he could do it. If he placed Alfred's body in one of the tombs, then his love would truly and forever be lost to him.

Never again would Ivan see Alfred smile or laugh. His blue eyes would never light up with happiness and love or darken and cloud with heat and desire. Alfred's voice would never wash over Ivan's entire being, encasing him and embracing him with so much overwhelming love. Never again would Ivan get to hold him, kiss him, or make love to him. Oh, what he wouldn't give to feel Alfred beneath him, atop him, all around him, everywhere and anywhere.

But he'd never get the chance to even see Alfred's blue eyes fill with light and life and laughter ever again.

Ivan hunched over, his head bowed, and began to cry again, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. He may be a vampire, he may be the Vampire King, and he may be immortal, but he was dead inside. A part of him had died when he saw Alfred's lifeless body lying on the ground just a few feet away from the sunflowers.

As the minutes turned into hours, Ivan felt a deadly numbness begin to creep into his entire being, taking hold of him with a vice-like grip that threatened to drown him. Would that be such a bad thing, though? It would mean that he wouldn't feel this heart breaking despair that was crushing his soul. Never before had he felt so utterly lost. The entire world had lost its color. Things appeared worse now than when he had fought Arthur Kirkland, the former Vampire King, for his throne. At least back then, he had something, someone to fight for: Alfred.

Now, Alfred was gone and there was nothing for Ivan to fight for.

Ivan sat in the bedroom he shared with Alfred and allowed his tears to continue to fall, to form into ice on his pale skin, and to shatter into tiny shards. Eventually, his sobs turned into dry heaves and then into complete, still silence. How long he remained like that, Ivan didn't know nor did he care. All that matter was that Alfred was dead.

And he wanted to die as well.