Standard disclaimer, Hetalia and its characters are not mine. This takes place during the 20's, ish. Enjoy!

Ivan had been having such a wonderful dream before he woke up to being shaken ever so gently. He was dancing in a warm field of sunflowers, with nothing but the sun beating on his back and no worries to speak of. Alas, all dreams have to end sometime, and this shaking was beginning to batter his nerves a bit. He opened his eyes a crack, and upon seeing no one and still being shaken as if on an ill fated platform, turned over to further investigate the cause.

It wouldn't be an absolute lie to say that he was surprised to see the youngest of his three Baltics there, but out of the principle of it, he was. After all, hadn't just yesterday Alfred told him what kind of monster he was, keeping them here so militantly? And yet here the most nervous of the two he had left was, glossy eyes open and very near to sobbing on Russia's bed out of his own will.

"What is wrong, мой воробей?", he asked, surprised at the cracking heard in his own voice, and he briefly wondered what time it was before the child scooted closer and stuffed his face into the Russian's scarf.

"I... I'm sorry, sir... But I couldn't sleep, and Estonia only glared at me, so I...", he stuttered. Touching the boys face, Russia could feel the fat tears which were staining his scarf, so he moved his arm further still, bringing him into a warm hug.

"It's okay... You can sleep with me until morning, da? I don't blame you... After all, this is Toris' fault for leaving. Let's just blame him."

The small nation choked back a fresh influx of tears at that, and the fluffy Russian patted his back soothingly, humming a tuneless lullaby until they both fell asleep.