A/N: There are no words in the English language sufficient enough to describe how sorry I am for leaving this story for five months. I am so, so, so, SO sorry! I have no good excuse for abandoning of you all (and at such a terrible cliffhanger too... D: ). I would not be surprised or offended if you gave up on me months ago. But I swear to all the gods that man has ever believed in that I WILL FINISH THIS GODDAM STORY, SWEET BUTTERY JESUS. There is only one more chapter after this one. I hope it and this are satisfactory to you after my long, long, long hiatus.

Also, I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit weird. I wrote half of it in April and half of it in the past two weeks, and both times I was running a very high fever, so I was a little delusional. Also also, if anyone catches the Muse reference, I will be a happy person. Also also also, pfffft, oh, Italy...

Warnings and whatnot: Things get pretty unpleasant here. Not enough to warrant a rating change, I think, but faint-of-heart be cautioned: I am not stingy with the injuries or the swearing. Also, I don't own these guys.

oooooo

It took Berwald at least five minutes to calm Tino down enough to get him inside. He made sure the door was locked, bolted, and chained before turning back to the other man. Tino stood among the piles of boxes in the front hall, wordless and shaking. There were no tears in is eyes or on his pale cheeks, but he looked so lost, so completely alone and afraid. It wrenched at Berwald's heart to see his friend— such a cheerful, resilient man— in such a pitiable state.

"Y'goin' t'be 'kay?" He asked, walking over to Tino as if approaching a fearful bird.

Predictably, he jumped at the sound and looked up fearfully. Berwald sighed and placed one large hand on his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. It seemed to work, though the trembling did not subside.

"Y'want some tea 'r somethin'?"

It was only then that Tino's expression relaxed, ever so slightly, into a timid smile. "That would be really nice, thank you."

Berwald nodded and began to make his way to the kitchen, but Tino's voice, quiet and strained, momentarily stopped him.

"I'm so sorry that you've been dragged into all this. It's my stupid problem, I... it should be my burden to bear."

"S' not stupid. N'yer m'... m'friend. Want t'help ya." Berwald could feel his face warming up. What he said was true, of course, and he was not ashamed, but having such an emotional conversation after what almost happened on the front steps earlier was difficult at best. He wanted so desperately for the word "friend" to mean so much more than what it sounded like.

If he picked up on the subtle nuance in his voice, Tino did not mention it. Instead his face became a bit brighter, a bit more assured. "You do, you know. More than I could ever thank you for properly."

"Hn."

Tino only smiled, though it faded quickly as the crisis of the situation loomed closer in his mind. Scooping up Hanatamago, who had been pawing at his ankles for several minutes, he glanced up at the taller man.

"I think I need to sit down for a while... clear my head, call the police. If you need any help, just shout."

Berwald nodded in his singularly taciturn way and disappeared into the kitchen while Tino turned in he opposite direction and headed for the living room door.

oooooo

Tino took a deep, fortifying breath before dialing the emergency number on his cell phone. Despite it all, he still faltered when he spoke.

"H-hello? Is this the police department?"

A very sweet voice answered him, a woman's. She sounded much to young to be an officer. "Yes, it is. What seems to be the problem, sir?"

"W-well, um..."

How was he supposed to explain such a situation? He was pretty sure flowers were not illegal, even threatening ones. He decided on the most basic of descriptions, leaving out as much inessential information as possible. He had a stalker, the stalker was scary, the stalker was leaving threatening messages. No, there had been no violence. No, he was not alone. No, he did not have a criminal record. Yes, Väinämöinen with a "V". The regimented proceedings only served to heighten Tino's anxiety. Further investigation was never proposed by the woman on the other end of the line, neither was any sort of protection or arrest. Tino began to jitter in his seat.

"Excuse me..." He finally interrupted the cool voice, "But will an officer be able to come to my house and provide further assistance in this matter?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Väinämöinen, but in cases such as these where there has been no violent interaction, we can do nothing without valid evidence of assault or kidnapping."

"O-oh... okay then." He slumped against the back of the couch in defeat. "Thank you anyway."

The last minute of conversation consisted of questions about his personal information and the regular formalities. By the time he hung up, Tino was beginning to feel more desperate and helpless than he ever had in his life. Despite all his training as a therapist, despite all his years dealing with Ivan, and despite all his good intentions, he had no idea how to deal with the situation he found himself in.

Honestly, he didn't even want to deal with it. Where was even supposed to start? He knew already that he could not reason with Ivan, but neither could he give him what he wanted. And if Ivan did decide to do something the police classified as "violent interaction", Tino wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold him off for long enough. This thought sent chills down his spine. What would Ivan do to him? Despite his general creepiness, Tino was positive that physical injury was not something the Russian wanted to inflict, but there were other things a desperate, imbalanced man could do...

Tino shuddered. No, he would not let his thoughts go down that road. Not now. He needed to have his head together for this crisis. He needed to be rational, a psychologist and a doctor before all else. He needed to be okay.

Sighing, he flopped down onto the couch, placing Hanatamago on his chest as he did. She looked very tired, her shiny black eyes half lidded, her head bobbing down towards her paws. Tino patted her drooping head.

"I guess that walk really tired you out, huh?"

Hanatamago yipped quietly and jumped off her master's chest before curling up into a fuzzy little ball at his side. Tino laughed softly as she drifted off, thankful that at least someone in this house knew what to do. Yawning and stretching his aching muscles, he pulled a flimsy blanket over his body. He couldn't remember the last time he had been more exhausted. Just a short nap before Berwald came in with the tea wouldn't do any harm, would it? It would help him relax, have his wits about him in case something happened. Content at least in this thought, he sunk almost instantly into a deep sleep.

oooooo

When Berwald entered the living room he found Tino stretched out on the couch, snoring quietly. Beside him Hantamago dozed, snuffling at her dreams. Berwald couldn't help but smile at the scene as he tiptoed into the room, making the utmost effort to remain silent. He set down the steaming mug of tea on the coffee table before flicking off the lights in the room, plunging it into a silvery semi-darkness.

Tino's face was just barely visible in the gloom. Berwald had never seen him look so troubled, even in waking. The lines of stress were prominent in the shadows, his eyelids twitched erratically, and every once in a while he would mutter something or shiver, disturbing the dog from her rest more than once.

Berwald sighed deeply and stared at the Finn's face. Those stresslines looked so out of place on his usually smooth features, so unnatural and troubling. Lines like that weren't meant to mar such a perfect face. Sitting down cross-legged on the floor, Berwald reached out and ghosted his thumb over the crease between Tino's eyebrows before gently brushing several loose hairs from his forehead. He twitched in his sleep at the contact, but even so the tight muscles around his eyes and mouth relaxed slightly and the anxious shivering subsided. Berwald sighed again and leaned back against the arm of the couch.

He squinted at his watch in the dark. It was past midnight, much to late to fly back home like he had originally planned. He found he didn't mind that much. Tino needed help, and as long as he did, he would stay with him. He had heard Tino's conversation with the police, heard the disappointment and the fear in his voice before he hung up. No one was coming to help, so Berwald figured that that responsibility now fell to him. Silently he promised himself that he would never let any harm come to his friend. Even though Tino couldn't hear that promise, didn't know he had made it, Berwald swore he would keep it to the last.

oooooo

The glowing numbers on Berwald's wristwatch clicked over to the four o'clock mark without a sound, and the three occupants of the room slept on undisturbed. On the couch, Tino shifted in his sleep, his hand brushing over his tiny dozing dog before unconsciously clutching onto the fabric of Berwald's shirt as if it were a security blanket. Though the Swede did not wake, he snorted sleepily in response and rolled his head over on the couch arm, his hair only just tickling Tino's knuckles. The dim light of the setting moon cast shifting shadows over their faces when they moved, but neither woke.

Then, suddenly, a small noise echoed through the mostly empty house. It was very quiet, only a small creak of the floorboards, but it was just loud enough to disrupt Tino's slumber. It cut through his perturbed dreams, waking him instantly. He sat up, losing his grip on Berwald's sleeve as he did so, and looked around, groggy and disoriented. For a moment he forgot where he was, panic clawing at his insides when he didn't recognize the room he was in. Frantic, he was about to spring from the couch when he noticed Berwald sitting on the floor. The sight of the his face, ghostly white and peaceful in the dim moonlight, brought Tino back to reality. He was in his new house, not kidnapped and hidden away in some dungeon of Ivan's devising. And Berwald was here. Relief flooded over him.

It was not to last, however. Something had woken him, he knew. Something disturbing and out of place, but his brain was too jumbled from sleep and nightmares to remember anything other than a noise. A small, unobtrusive noise, but nonetheless, it had to be investigated. Praying that Ivan had not found a way to get into the house and wishing he had a weapon of some sort, preferably a baseball bat, Tino stood.

Carefully, so as not to wake Berwald or Hanatamago, he peaked around the frame into the entry hall, but saw nothing but silvery moonlight and piles of boxes waiting to be unpacked. Sighed in relief, he began to tiptoe through the hall to the kitchen, but a creak, much louder than before, sounded from behind him and he froze. Slowly, he turned, dreading what he might discover lurking in the gloomy corners, but before he could complete his turn, he was grabbed by behind by steely strong arms. A moment later he felt the pressure of hand closing over his mouth, effectually cutting off his ability to call for help.

Tino immediately began to fight the arms crushing into his torso, but it was no use, his arms were pinned to his sides and his flailing legs found nothing to kick. He was completely and utterly helpless in his captor's grasp.

"Hello, my little zaichik." Ivan's voice hissed from behind, sneering lips brushing against Tino's earlobe. "Vanka is so happy to see you again. Heehee!" There was insidious intent in that deranged voice. Panic rising in his throat, the Finn continued his attempts to struggle free of Ivan's iron hold, but the Russian only tightened his grip.

"Oh, no, no, no, you won't be getting away from me this time, Tinushka. We will go far, far away and be happy together forever!" At these words, Ivan began to make his way towards the door. Through the darkened window, Tino could just barely make out the hulking outline of Ivan's car.

No, no, no, no! He needed to get free, and he needed to now, before Ivan could force him into that car and whisk him away from everything, everyone, he cared about. But the man was too strong for him, overpowering his every desperate effort to get free, cutting off his air whenever he made the slightest noise. Tino began to wriggle his head, slowly extricating his nose and mouth from the hand pressed against his face with enormous preoccupied with dragging his captive towards the outside door, Ivan did not notice the minute twisting of Tino's head until it was too late to stop it. In a last-ditch bid to draw air and scream for Berwald, Tino bit down on the suffocating hand.

Ivan squealed and immediately withdrew his hand, whimpering as he stared, shocked, at the bleeding marks Tino's teeth had left.

"T-Tinushka bit me!"

Meanwhile, Tino reveled in his success as he filled his lungs with a glorious breath of air. Before he could let it out in a cry for help, however, Ivan sunk his own teeth deep into the side of his neck, and that precious air was instead released in a scream of pain.

Ivan's hand was back over his mouth in an instant, and his efforts to get Tino outside and into his car redoubled. As the front door drifted into the side of his vision, Tino gave up all hope of being rescued and resigned himself to his fate. He let the tears of fear and pain he had been holding back roll silently down his cheeks.

Then, suddenly, Ivan's groping hands were pried off of him and he was pulled away from the door. Another set of arms, infinitely more gentle than Ivan's, wrapped around him in a protective embrace.

"Wh't th'hell d'ya think yer doin'?"

Tino let out a tiny gasp of air. He had never heard Berwald's voice convey so much emotion before. Hesitantly, he glanced up at the usually stoic face above him, only to flinch and immediately look back down. Berwald's face was scary enough normally, but now, angry and shadowed by the late night moonlight streaming through the front windows, the flashing eyes and harsh angles of his face were absolutely terrifying.

"Oh, hello there, little Swedey! Vanka was just going to take Tinushka for a romantic little walk, da?" The sweetness in Ivan's voice was sickening, but his smile, wide and terrible, communicated an entirely different, more dangerous emotion.

"Y'll b'doin no such thing."

"Oh, yes? And how is Berwald going to stop me?" The name was spat from the Russian's mouth like venom. His next words shot like bullets from his mouth, all pretense of benevolence abandoned for vicious bitterness. "You are not even brave enough to tell Tinushka you love him, but Vanka is."

Tino felt Berwald's whole body stiffen at Ivan's words. Cautiously, he peaked up at Berwald's face again. His mouth was still set in an angry, determined scowl, but his eyes were wide. They flicked down momentarily to meet his, and the smaller man inhaled sharply. Their expression was usually so even and calm, but now they looked shocked, vulnerable, and almost desperate with fear, as if what Ivan had said would make Tino wrench himself from Berwald's arms in horror and disgust.

"I..."

Ivan cut him off with a shower of gleeful giggling. "Heehee, he looks so scared! Swedey is a coward. He cannot keep Tinushka from Vanka!"

With this, the Russian lunged. Tino had only a moment to get out of the way before Ivan's fist collided with Berwald's jaw. The Swede grunted and loosened his protective hold on Tino as he staggered backwards from the force of the punch. Tino gasped and moved to Berwald's side, grabbing his arm and pulling him up, only to be pushed back with surprising force. The other man's voice was low and insistent, even as he refused to meet Tino's eyes.

"Don' help me. I'll b'fine. Go call th'police."

"No! You're bleeding! He'll kill you! I can't just—"

"Please, Tino." Berwald's guilty eyes lingered on the bleeding marks on Tino's neck, evidence of his failure to keep his promise.

Tino let out a shaky breath and nodded, letting go and beating a hasty retreat. Behind him, Berwald moved to block the entrance from Ivan's view, mouth rigid with determination.

With the escape of his prisoner, Ivan shrieked something inhuman and terrifying before launching himself at Berwald again, fists balled up in rage. This time, however, Berwald was prepared for the attack and dodged it, though just barely. Recovering, he turned and deftly blocked another series blows with his arm before lashing out with a foot. He didn't know what part of Ivan he hit, but the Russian grunted in pain and stumbled into a pile of boxes, toppling them with a deafening crash.

Berwald too a moment to mourn the destruction of Tino's fancy dinner plates before turning his attention back to his rival. Ivan stared back at him, teeth bared in a predatory sneer, pupils constricted despite the darkness in the room.

"Berwald... will not... take my Tinushka away from me." He snarled.

Then, he reached into his coat and slowly drew out a long, menacing pipe. The unorthodox weapon glinted in the moonlight as Ivan drew closer. Glancing over the approaching shoulder, Berwald noticed with a jolt of fear that Tino was standing in the shadowy doorway, terrified eyes transfixed on the pipe as if its shining metallic shaft were hypnotic.

The distraction was exactly the opening that Ivan needed, and he struck out with the pipe, hitting Berwald's side with enough force to knock him, wheezing, to the floor. Behind him Tino cried out in alarm before running into the room, but he was barely over the threshold before the pipe made contact with his back, sending him crashing down, completely winded. He struggled up just in time to see Ivan strike Berwald's shoulder with the pipe. Berwald, who had been trying to stand, fell to his knees, clutching at his arm. His glasses hung crooked and shattered from one ear as he stared up at Ivan, eyes still flickering with defiance even as his vision swam from the pain.

Ivan only smiled down at him with childlike cruelty.

"See now, little Swedey? Berwald is a weak coward. He cannot stop me. He will not stop me."

His deranged smile grew wider. He raised the pipe above his head, reveled a moment in his victory, and brought it hammering down onto the back of Berwald's skull with nauseating finality. Berwald's body went limp and he fell to the floor, blood trickling from a large gash in his scalp.

"Berwald!" Tino scrambled from the floor in a blind panic, completely ignoring his own considerable pain as he sprinted over to where the other man lay, completely motionless, at Ivan's feet. With shaking hands, Tino gingerly brushed a few strands of bloody blond hair away from the wound, hot tears streaming down his face and dripping onto the Swede's t-shirt.

Before he could do anything more, however, Ivan's hands were yet again on him and he was pulled away from Berwald's unmoving body. Any protest was cut short when the cold pipe pressed against Tino's throat.

Every word he spoke was laced with insane cackling as he drew Tino closer to his body. "Now that Berwald is gone, Tinushka and I can run away together, da?"

Tino struggled with the arms encircling his chest and waist, but they didn't move. Ivan was too strong for him. Ivan only laughed at his futile attempts to escape and held on tighter, nudging the faucet against the bleeding bite mark on Tino's neck.

"Hmmm, Tinushka should not try to run away from Vanka... he might get hurt like Swedey." As if to prove his point, he jabbed at the wound with the pipe.

Tino's yelp of pain was followed by a snarl of anger, and with the last of his strength he wrenched his hands from Ivan's hold and grabbed the shaft of the pipe, shoving it away from his neck. Ivan made a noise of surprise and tried to force his weapon back to press against his captive's throat, but Tino had finally had enough.

He twisted the pipe back and forth in an attempt to win dominance of the weapon, but Ivan's hold was still tight around his waist and his thrashing and kicking seemed to have no effect. He growled and redoubled his efforts, swinging the pipe back and forth, Ivan's insane laughter ringing in his ears.

"Ivan!" He roared, fighting and scratching at his captor's hands. "Get. The. Fuck. OFF!"

Tino heard more than felt the pipe connect with Ivan's face. There was a crunching noise and a resounding metallic clang and suddenly the hands clutching at his shirt fell limp and the Russian's entire enormous weight was bearing down on his trembling shoulders. He had knocked him unconscious.

As gently as he could, Tino lowered Ivan's prone form to the floor. He stared down at the Russian lying on the floor of his front hall. Blood was trickling from his aquiline nose, which had taken the brunt of the pipe's force, and his mouth was hanging slightly open. Bruises from the fight and scratches from Tino's nails were beginning to darken and bleed as well. It was then that the enormity of the situation hit him, and he was just beginning to panic when a low groan of pain sounded from the other side of the hall.

He was by Berwald's side in an instant, hovering uncertainly as he shifted and slowly, labouriously, opened his eyes.

"Oh God, Berwald..."

"T'no..." The Swede shifted on the floor, attempting and failing to prop himself up on his elbows. Tino gently pushed him back down to the floor with shaking hands.

"You shouldn't move too much. You could hurt yourself more..."

"Wh't happ'ned? Are y'alright?"

"I- I'm okay. Ivan is unconscious. I... uh... I accidentally knocked him out with the pipe." His eyes were brimming with unshed tears of relief. Berwald was alive! Bleeding badly and probably concussed, but alive!

After a stunned silence, Berwald snorted. "Woulda liked t'see th't..."

"I-it's not funny!" Tino sniffled, though his tone suggested a lurking amusement.

"Hn."

"I-I'm going to go call an ambulance, but I should look at that cut before they get here. S-stay here, okay? I'll be right back..." Tino's voice wavered as he stood and headed for the door, leaving Berwald to gingerly maneuver himself into a slumped sitting position against the wall.

oooooo

He had just gotten off the phone with the hospital when Tino heard footsteps behind him. He turned and scowled at Berwald, who was leaning against the doorway like it was the only thing keeping him from toppling over in a dead faint.

"I told you you shouldn't move... you might be concussed." His annoyance at the man's stubbornness could only last so long before it melted into concern for his wellbeing.

"Hn. Yer bleedin'."

It was only then that the Finn remembered the bite Ivan had given him. He reached up to brush the spot with his fingertips, but immediately flinched when the contact sent hot pain spiking up his neck. "Oh, right, that..."

"Got a f'rst aid kit? Should clean 't 'p. Could get 'nfect'd."

"In the kitchen, but... Berwald, you're more hurt than me You should lie down on the couch or something! The ambulance will be here in less than ten minutes..." Tino's nervous babbling was cut short as Berwald gently steered him into the kitchen, sat him in a chair, and fished out the first-aid kit. He tried to protest, but in less than a minute, Berwald was already at work, dabbing disinfectant and creams onto the scratches on Tino's arms and face, all the while ignoring his own wounds an avoiding Tino's eyes.

Tino winced as Berwald daubed at the bleeding bite mark with a hydrogen peroxide-soaked cottonball.

"S'rry."

He shook his head. "No, it's not a problem. Thank you."

"Hn."

Tino peered down into Berwald. Blood trickled from the cut caused by his broken glasses and the hair on back of his head was dark and spiky with more of it. The bruises on his arms ans jaw were darkening and beginning to swell. "Will you let me clean you up a little too, before the ambulance gets here?"

"Nh. M'fine." Berwald replied as he finished bandaging the wound on Tino's neck. He pressed his hand to it for a moment before removing it and looking away.

The Finn's voice was soft and choked with tears, and he reached out to touch Berwald's battered cheek. "You're always so kind to me, Berwald, why won't you let me do the same for you? You... you won't even look at me..."

Berwald was too distracted by the shaking hand brushing along his jaw to reply coherently, unconsciously tilting his head toward's the touch as his only answer.

"I-is this about what Ivan said earlier? About you...and me..." Tino trailed off nervously, too embarrassed to elaborate, but Berwald knew exactly what he meant. He drew a shaky breath.

"Yes."

Tino's voice was almost a whisper now, quavering with anxiety and something else. Hurt? Hope? He couldn't tell. "Then, please, look at me... t-talk to me. I..."

Hearing the raw need in Tino's request, Berwald finally forced himself to look into the face he loved so much. The emotions he found there nearly overpowered him with their intensity. And as much as he tried to mask his own feelings, as much as he tried to repress his desire, he knew that for the first time his face was betraying him, that his expression was more of a confession than words could ever be.

"Berwald..."

"T'no, m's-"

His second apology of the night was suddenly and unexpectedly cut off as Tino slid from his chair, leaned close, and kissed him into silence.

Berwald's first impulse was to push Tino away, to tell him he couldn't possibly be with him, but the sensation of that sweet mouth finally, finally pressing against his own after months of protracted longing and undisclosed desire was too much, and his last thread of self-restraint snapped. Stifling a moan, he wrapped his arms around Tino's slender torso and pulled the little man onto his lap. He felt Tino's lips curl into a smile as he responded to the kiss, deepening it with an insistent, clumsy tongue.

Tino gasped at how quickly and intimately Berwald reacted to what he himself had thought as a wildly invasive act, but he didn't pull away. He had been waiting for so long to do this, and apparently so had Berwald. He couldn't remember the last time a man had held him as desperately or as gently the Swede did now. As Berwald's tongue ran over his front teeth, Tino grasped at the broad shoulders and gave himself up completely to the kiss.

Too preoccupied with each other, neither Berwald nor Tino noticed when the front door opened and two men in white scrubs entered the kitchen. After a moment of stunned silence, the taller of the two spoke to his companion.

"Feliciano, stop staring. It's not polite."

"Veee... but Ludwig said it was just fine when we did the same thing in the broom closet the other day..."

"Sh-shut up!"

Tino squeaked and leapt from Berwald's lap so fast that he fell over. He recovered himself, however, and in a moment was on his feet, though his face was nearly purple from mortification.

"I...uh... um... hi."

The two men just stared at him.

"Y-you must be the paramedics..."

The taller of the two men nodded in an authoritative way. "And you, I assume, are Tino Väinämöinen."

"Eheheh, yes, that would me me!"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

While this most awkward conversation was taking place, the other paramedic had been examining a very flummoxed Berwald, his nimble little fingers dancing around the various bruises and scratches in a slightly invasive manner. Berwald tried to back away, but the other man had no conception of personal space and only followed him, humming happily to himself.

"Ludwiiiig!" His voice was much too cheery, Berwald decided. "He's bleeding pretty badly. We should go!"

"Very well. Mr.Väinämöinen, you will ride in the front with Feli."

"O-okay..."

"Feli" sprung to his feet at this proposal, giddy with excitement. "Vee! Yes, yes, come with me, Mr. Guy-With-The-Funny-Name! I can show you how everything works while Ludwig does all the manly stuff!"

Before Tino could protest or even tell him how to pronounce his name right, Feliciano took his hand and dragged him from the room. As he was forcefully pulled through the door, Tino glanced back at Berwald, who was still sitting on the kitchen floor. Ludwig was leaning over him with some sort of medical instrument, but the other man didn't seem to notice, his nervous eyes reserved solely for the retreating Finn.

oooooo

Tino sat in the hospital waiting room for three hours, fretting to the point of tears as the sky outside slowly changed from black to blue and from blue to pink. There were so many things to worry about! Was Berwald all right? He'd heard no news from the doctors. And what about Ivan? He had still been unconscious when last Tino saw him.

The outcome of the conversation with the police had at least been reassuring. He had been acting in self defense, there would be no charges. Officer Zwingli had assured him that a restraining order was on the way, and that Ivan would never bother him again. But these were small comforts indeed in comparison to Tino's woes.

The biggest worry on his mind was Berwald. Not just the state of his health after getting beaten senseless by Ivan but... other things. The memory of their kiss burned hot and hopeful in Tino's mind, and his lips tingled as if Berwald's had just left them. But... but had Berwald really been in a right state of mind when that had happened? It had been mostly Tino who had initiated the kissing. What if Berwald didn't actually want it, and went along just to appease him? His response seemed enthusiastic but... what if... what if, what if, what if?

Tino gnawed hard on his fingernails, his legs jittering. He couldn't keep still, and continually glanced at the clock on the wall. Time was moving too slowly, damn it! What was taking them so long? The damage couldn't be more serious than a concussion could it? What if it was? What would he do if Berwald wasn't completely okay?

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god...

Just as he was about to give up any semblance of calm in favour of clutching at his hair or sobbing into the arm of his chair, the double doors to the hall swung open and none other than Dr. Williams stepped out. He seemed surprised to see Tino sitting there.

"You're here a lot Mr. Väinämöinen. Have you gotten into another accident?" He asked, adjusting his glasses.

Tino whipped around in his seat and stared, wild-eyed, at the doctor. His look in his eyes was so insane that Doctor Williams jumped back in alarm.

"Is Berwald alright?" He asked insistently, his voice almost an octave higher than normal.

"I... uh." The doctor stammered, all professionalism stripped away by his surprise at the way sweet little Mr. Väinämöinen was acting. "Y-yes, Mr. Oxenstierna checked out just fine. He needed stitches on that cut, but other than that it was just a couple of nasty bruises."

Every muscle held taught in Tino's body immediately relaxed, and the psychotic expression on his face melted into a relieved smile. "Thank you, Doctor. I... can I go see him? Or will he be out soon?"

Dr. Williams' eyebrows shot up past the frames of his glasses. "What are you talking about?"

"Um... Berwald. When will you release him?"

The eyebrows traveled even further up the doctor's forehead. "I'm so sorry! I thought you knew... Mr. Oxenstierna left over an hour ago."

oooooo

A/N: Dun-dun-DUUUUUUUUN!

Only one more chapter after this! That's... really incredible to me, you know. When I started this I never knew it was going to be this long or that I was going to get such a response... it's come to mean so much to me. I don't really know what I'm going to do with myself when it's done. Write another one, I suppose... :D

Two notes, neither of them factual:

Firstly, I bought some salmiakki online to try it. It came all the way from Turku! I still have the stamps! And, most importantly, I am completely addicted to the stuff. It's delicious and I love it. Though all of my friends avoid me when I eat it... XD

Secondly, arts. I have gotten a couple of really wonderful pieces of art for this story in the last couple months! Here are some links! (take out spaces, as per usual):

This one is so adorable! It was sent to me months ago, but it still makes me go all fangirly every time I look at it.: http:/ i268. photo bucket. com / albums / jj5 / ? t=1303381891

This is from the wonderful Lily, whose fic you must read and whose art you must look at. She is exceptionally talented at both: http:/ lily-l-bell . deviantart . com / gallery / # / d3cxgey

I cannot even verbalize how wonderful it feels to get art for this story... it's just... guh. It's amazing. Really really REALLY amazing. Thank you so much, both of you, for the art. And all of you for reading.

Also here is a comic of the Feliks scene in Chapter 8 that I drew myself. It is very silly.: http:/ deepwoodwayfinder . deviantart . com / gallery / # / d3ccwzc