(Well, hey there! I found this in my AP U.S. History folder and liked where my mind went with it! Here's installment four!)

Two years, two long years he suffered still, watching carefully over his brothers and keeping himself out of Russia's sight: the cold man was still angry, furious, over the Singing Revolution. His brothers had paid dearly for their participation in The Baltic Way and he shuddered at the thought that he had been the one to get off easy.

All relatively speaking, however.

Edouard was alone with his nightmares, the haunting visions of his failures to protect what he loved and those he loved, unable to keep his friends away from harm, always having to watch while the life was torn apart, hope shredded like a battle standard. Some nights, he would not sleep at all, instead staring at the whiteness of his walls to keep the vision from coming back. Even if he closed his eyes, they would come.

.

.

.

Some nights, it would be the image of Russia haunting him, coming to get him while no one could see, take him where no one would hear his screams and pleas.

"You want to become one with the USSR, yes?" The man hissed, yanking Edouard to his knees. "You want to be mine."

His tears were only fueling the fire, making Ivan draw out the game. "I placed some people in your government; the votes will make you mine." When a sob escaped his lips, Ivan slapped him across the face, backhanding him hard enough to make him see stars twice: once on contact and once when his head bashed against the floor. "You will be Estonian SSR. We will be one, just like you have always wanted."

Ivan's boot had connected with his face in real life, but Edouard always woke up just before the tip reached his nose, usually bolting out of bed to make sure there was no blood on his skin, no bruises around his neck. All he ever saw in the mirror was his tear stained face.

.

.

.

Feliks was fight with all he had, squirming in Ivan's grasp, but it was not enough to break free, it never was. Ivan would never be escapes to easily, especially by Poland.

"Eddie, help me!" Feliks gasped as large hands found a grip on his neck. "Ha-ahhhh…" No matter how the blonde tried, he could not get enough air to form words.

Germany held him tightly from behind and all Edouard could do was let out a small cry of horror as he saw Feliks go limp, not just playing possum.

"He is not dead, my little Esti. Just quieted, yes? You are lucky we do not do the same to you. You are already broken." Ivan threw the prone Pole over his broad shoulders and motioned for Ludwig to tie Edouard's hands together. "And you are mine. Come, comrade, there is partitioning to do."

Ludwig grunted and Estonia could only gasp. "What? How could you-"

Ivan's free hand slapped him hard. "We know what you and Poland were plotting," Ludwig said from behind him. "Your alliance was trouble."

"Alliance? What alliance? We're neighbors-friends-"

He was slapped again. "Even more dangerous. And here we were, only punishing little Poland for being allies. His punishment will be more fitting now, thank you, my Esti."

Edouard lunged forward but Ludwig had his arms bound tight and he fell flat on his face. Taking advantage of the situation, Ludwig tied his feet together, preventing him from moving at all.

"Now," Ivan grinned sickeningly down at him and Ludwig stood by silently. "We will have some fun partitioning Poland. He was always easy to conquer and break." He turned his back on Estonia and began to leave, Germany following closely by his side. "His screams are something, you will see soon Ludwig-"

"Bastards!" Edouard roared from the floor, thrashing. The two continued to the door, opening it. "Give him back! Leave him alone!"

Just as the door was shutting, Edouard saw Feliks move a little, raising his head and looking at him through groggy green eyes, flashing him a small smile before there was cold iron between them.

"No." He said softly. "No, Feliks! Feliks-"

.

.

.

"FELIKS!" Lithuania ran quickly to his brother's room, meeting Raivis at the door, which the boy had already opened. They could hear Edouard's sobs as he lay in his misery, trapped in his own misery.

.

.

.

And then, just as sudden as a nightmare, came his independence. Formally, he was free in August but Russia would not look at him until months later after he received a letter from Iceland, congratulating him on his hard won freedom.

It was a bittersweet victory, Ivan made sure of that, keeping his troops in Edouard's lands as long as possible, hoping he could scare the nation back into submission like he had done with his brothers. This would not work on him, not now and not ever.

Three years later, Ivan was gone completely, the last Russian troops leaving in 1994.

He was free, free to do what he wanted, say what he thought, ally with whom he wished.

He could only hope his brothers were not far behind.

.

.

.

AN: …wow, um, where to begin. I chose those moments in Estonian history because they seemed like something traumatic. There were quite a few other instances I could have chosen, but eh. Hope you liked it : ) I kinda want to do another country, so if anyone has any suggestions…