\I got used to the burning after a few days, or maybe its hours…how am I supposed to know? Waking up to find an empty room, an empty bag, an empty world or some odd combination of the three. The only thing that was ever filled would be the world of sound; fully immersed in my own screams. A nurse or two would come rushing in with another bag in his/her hand, attach it to my IV, and leave me to wait for slumber to take me once more. These minutes where the overwhelming pain had subsided and the screams had been replaced by the steady drip of sedating liquid were the moments when I could rest briefly asking myself three questions over and over until I remembered once more.

Who am I?

You're Toris.

Where am I?

In a hospital recovering.

What was I screaming?

…God is gracious. Or in some situations …Vanya.

The last question was always the hardest. Most occasions it was some name that leaves me puzzled. But most days the answer would never come and I'd cry for not knowing until the morphine claimed my senses causing to forget once more. I only knew it was morphine in the bag because I'd heard a nurse ask for it once when she dropped it on the ground when my screams startled her and that some things I knew didn't leave as soon as I started sleeping. When I'd wake up again (after the usual screaming spell) the painful cycle would repeat; me carried along through an endless spiral of abusing my vocal cords.

I was starting to get lonely in the tiny room with nothing but a few death-ridden sunflowers for company. The nurses didn't count because they hardly stayed long enough to share a few words. To put it bluntly they'd stopped caring awhile ago; matter of fact since I got here. They only saw me as another chore to them; just another patient to take care of and nothing more.

The only one who ever truly cared about me was…my mind grew hazy as I tried to focus on that unknown object until it would snap from thinking too hard. Horrible images would swarm in my brain and unite with the stress of my injuries to create a massive typhoon of pain. This is what truly makes me scream, only because I questioned the lapse of memory in my own subconscious.

Someone…I'm missing someone. That person is the reason I am here alone and bleeding out from the inside. Little by little my body recovered as my psyche deteriorated from the lengthy amnesia. The loneliness was more than I could bear; even with a wispy sense of déjà vu floating though me like it was doing now. I have the feeling someone said something like that before. Or did something to show that loneliness is one of the greatest pains a human can ever suffer. The sort of isolation you only ever find within a Russian winter.

Why Russian? And where did I get winter from? The chill emanating in from the only window lured my stare. There is white stuff everywhere out there.

'It's called snow love.' I turned my head as quickly as possible to find out where the voice had come from. Finding no one I turned back to the window. "Snow." The word felt natural on my tongue as it floated though the air.

I was tired; I'd prolonged my next dose for longer than normal and an unsightly craving of the opaque liquid creeping through my veins sent a needy chill within my body.

Is it right to want this? Why not, I haven't got anything else.

Screaming was easy as I lay on my side to feign pain from my almost healed injuries. It's different now; I don't even wake up to them anymore. These days I wake up out of need for the crystalline drug to run through me obliterating all feeling whatsoever. But I'd hold back to have moments like these where I try to recover my memory. Remembering is a little bit easier now, once I get answers to my three questions sets the ball in motion to think again.

A nurse came in and attached a bag to my IV without looking at me. There was no time for me to be lonely though as I fell prey to the blank void.

~Time Passes~

…there's a noise…am I dreaming?...yes I'm dreaming, how else would I'd be floating?...I was floating over a snowy field trying to locate the tiny sound. I didn't know where I was going but I could see golden color up ahead. Pressing myself forward more I could see baby shoots, fighting their way through the decreasing snow. The noise got louder and revealed itself to be a man's voice. It wasn't star quality but it was still beautiful since I hadn't heard a human voice in…a long while. I let myself down softly, hovering slightly above the ground so as to not harm the young plants. I could see a figure now, his back to me. A long scarf was billowing out behind him due to the slight breeze in the meadow. He seemed to be swaying slightly; as if he were rocking something. Did he have a child with him? Who is he?

I moved toward him and tugged on the scarf. He didn't change what he was doing. Maybe he hadn't noticed? I started tugging on the scarf harder when he began to sing, louder this time. The first was in English. I was surprised I knew but listened intently to it.

"Forgive me, my lengthy dreamer

Can't you see I'm crying?

Wake up my little dreamer,

The people cry for you too, ever so sweet

A land of sunflowers is where we will meet.

My darling, my dreamer."

I'd thought he was finished but then he started again in Russian.

"Прости меня, моя длительный мечтатель
Разве вы не видите, что я плачу?
Проснись моего маленького мечтателя,
Люди плачут, и для вас, все так сладко
Землю Подсолнухи где мы встретимся.
Мой милый, мой мечтатель."

The meaning had been the same in Russian as it was in English but only...more powerful. He stopped singing and took a deep breath as he began once more this time in…Lithuanian.

The words ran through my core as memories came rushing back. My native tongue was an instant healer, repairing my memory and the damage to my heart as well. Feelings were ablaze within me as I hugged the man fiercely, whispering his name with unrestrained tears running down my face. 'Ivan, Ivan, Ivan…' He shifted and suddenly I found myself being rocked in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I opened my eyes to find the most gorgeous violet staring back at me.

"I missed you my pet," he smiled, joy spreading through both of us. But his eyes grew distant for a moment as he whispered in a lower tone. "Next time I will be sure to kill you, it's far too much trouble to keep you in a hospital undetected." 'What?' Fright clouded my mind as I shoved the large man away from me. 'What did you say?' "Huh?" The Russian I loved so much looked confused as if he did not just make a threat to beat me again and kill me while he was at it. "I said nothing Liet. Let's get you out of here, da?" I could only nod as he pulled out the IV (it doesn't hurt too much to do that), bandaged it lightly, and carried me out of the hospital room.

I'm going home, to be with Ivan and my brothers once more. I'm amazingly happy but why do I feel sickened? Ivan has admitted to me more than once that he loves me, but I still end up beaten. I guess my only option is, to learn to cope.

And that folks is the end of LTC. But what's this? What about the nosy EMT Rolan and his plan to have Russia-san sent to prison? Or the fact that a part of Russia-san what's Toris dead? And how exactly did Russia-san cover up Toris' stay in the hospital without important nations like Feliks from knowing? Stay tuned for the sequel!!! Yay! I seriously did not expect for it to end this soon but eh, go with the flow. Here's the reverse translation of my lullaby (yes I wrote it it's mine!) from English to Russian and back to English. By the way sorry about the Russian if there are errors, I don't speak Russian. I'm just a sad little American student who had to rely on a translator.

Forgive me, my long-dreamer
Can not you see me crying?
Wake up my little dreamer
People cry for you, everything is so sweet
Sunflowers land where we meet.
My darling, my dreamer.