A/N: So a few people asked me to actually do a serious story of this short little fic I wrote for a meme. I need to work out my writing hands again after being so lazy for so long so I thought doing a cute little one-shot would be good.

Warnings- Russia is the bad guy (I'm sorry Russia! I love you, truly!). Mentions of physical harm and trauma. This can be seen as pre-slash or friendship.

~I NEED A HERO~

How long...where…lord his head…

The world swam back and forth between Lithuania's eyes. He could smell the sea salt around him, and he could feel the slime of the crate around him move about his body as the crate shook back and forth, moved precariously by the ocean's tossing of the ship.

How long. Yes, how long had he exactly been stuck in this crate? How long since it had been since he had run from Russia's house? Long enough for Russia to realize what had happened probably. Lithuania winced and held a hand to where his broken ribs were still mending. Pain and relief formed an odd mixture of feelings. Relief from the fact that Estonia and Latvia were safe now, Poland had been able to sneak them out easily enough. The pain came from the memory as well as the fresh bruises that Russia had caused when he had figured out that Estonia and Latvia were gone. But they were safe and out of his reach, which brought Lithuania a sliver of happiness even as he was locked away in Russia's home, with no possible chance out.

At least that was what Russia had thought. Lithuania closed his eyes and settled back down on the floor of the crate, trying to calm his churning stomach. It had taken weeks after the other two had escaped for Lithuania to figure a way out himself. The chance had come in the form of another snowstorm in the middle of the night. Russia had been asleep. Lithuania by then could pick almost any lock after having them changed on him so often as to impede his escape. Other than those three things, Lithuania could just say he had been lucky. The woods surrounding the house offered a challenge (only and idiot would actually follow the path leading away from the house) but by what Lithuania considered the grace of God, he had made it through the woods safely (although maybe slightly frostbitten) and onto the docks of the town below.

From there, well- Lithuania gritted his teeth as another wave of nausea hit him. The rest was history. The ship he has stowed away on was going to who knows where, but it was away from Russia…he hoped.

Another waved crashed against the side of the ship and Lithuania smashed his head against the crate wall. Head now pounding with new pain, Lithuania just allowed the darkness to swallow him, hoping against all odds that the place he arrived in would be better than the one he had just left behind.

~HETALIA~

When Lithuania woke up once more he no longer smelled the ocean, but his nose picked up the scent of coffee. The slime that had once surrounded him so thoroughly was gone and replaced with a soft warmth. There was no sound of crashing waves against a metal ship, and his head didn't hurt anymore. Lithuania slowly allowed his eyes to open and roam about the place he was now in.

Instead of a dark crate, Lithuania was in a very cheerful looking room. A few green plants were placed around the room in niches where they added a breath of fresh air. There were no paintings on the wall, but instead a red, white, and blue flag hung proudly above the window doors that led out to a red brick terrace. A telephone sat on the bedside table and it matched the color of the walls, which were a very annoying shade of bright blue. The lights were not on but the light from the windows hurt Lithuania's eyes, and he snapped them shut once more.

I'm dreaming, he thought desperately. All this was an illusion his mind had created. He would soon wake up, cold and alone.

For a few moments, Lithuania laid there and breathed heavily, trying not to cry at the cruelty of his own mind.

Then, suddenly, the room's door crashed open and Lithuania jerked up, staring at the stranger before him.

It was a man with wheat blonde hair and blue eyes almost as bright as the color of the walls hiding behind a pair of glasses. His arms were full of drinks and snacks, and he held a hamburger in his mouth. The stranger visibly brightened and began to…talk. At least that was Lithuania's guess. It sounded like frantic mumbling to him really. The man noticed Lithuania's confused look and to Lithuania's slight shock and disgust, he began to munch on the hamburger quickly in his mouth, almost inhaling it. And as soon as the man's mouth was clean of food, he sent Lithuania a giant smile and said, "Sorry 'bout that! You were asleep for so long I began to get the munchies! Man, I have some great snacks here! Wanna try some?"

He said all of this in a rush, as though someone would try to interrupt him at any moment. Lithuania just continued to stare confusedly.

"Do you speak English?" The man looked momentarily sulky, "Everyone should just speak English, and not England's English, my English. Because mine is so much cooler." He nodded to himself and sat down on a chair near Lithuania's bed. Without meaning to, Lithuania shrank back from him a bit, wary of any contact.

"Um, well if you don't speak English than this is going to be a problem. I'm not too good at many other languages, although I am getting pretty good at Spanish. Wellllll~ maybe telling you my name might be a good start." The man let all the snacks and drinks fall from his hands onto the floor. He then pointed to himself and said loudly and slowly, "AMERICA."

Lithuania remembered hearing Russia complaining about America. He would often grumble about the idiocy of the younger nation. Lithuania had never gotten the chance to meet America, but so far the cheerful nation seemed alright…

"Well I assume you're a nation as well. I mean, nobody could have survived a trip in a crate like that for weeks with very little water and food unless they were a nation. Besides, you have a nationy feel to you." America leaned in closer to Lithuania, staring him straight in the eyes, "You are a nation, right?"

Lithuania swallowed, noticing somewhere in the back of his mind that he was really thirsty. "Ye…" Lithuania coughed, trying to clear his scratchy throat, "Yes. My name is Lithuania."

America acted as though he had just won something. He beamed at Lithuania and almost began hopping up and down in his chair. "Oh man that's awesome! You so do speak English!"

"Uh, y-yes." Lithuania stumbled over his words as his head began to swim with dizziness once again. He brought a hand to cover up his eyes, trying to keep conscious. America stopped his babbling over how cool it was that Lithuania spoke English and leaned forward, concerned.

"Hey, you alright there?" America's hand reached forward and touched Lithuania's upper arm. Lithuania immediately jerked backward and fell off the bed, his mind flinching toward the memories of Russia's touch.

"Shit! You're not supposed to jump off the bed while recuperating!" America leapt over the bed and onto the side Lithuania had fallen over. He leaned down to pick Lithuania up, but Lithuania scrambled back again, his mind running awful memories of another's seemingly caring touch. "Hey, come back!" America was awkwardly shifting towards him, his limbs slightly askew because of the narrow space between the bed and the wall. Lithuania was moving as swiftly away as he possibly could; they both looked like odd spiders almost. The situation would have been comical if Lithuania hadn't been having a panic attack.

His back hit the wall and Lithuania shrunk into himself, curling his arms around his torso and bringing his legs up for extra protection.

"P-please" Lithuania gasped out, placing his forehead on his knees, "don't t-t-touch me!" To his credit, America did stop quickly. A stunned silence followed Lithuania's outburst, and America watched with embarrassed horror as the brunette began to cry silently, his entire body trembling with the effort of the sobs.

America sat down on his knees and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Damn…" he muttered softly, looking away from Lithuania. For the next few minutes, America sat with Lithuania as he cried. He didn't move any closer, but he never moved farther away.

Lithuania finally managed to get a grip on himself, quietly reminding his mind that America was not Russia. But even as he raised his head to look at America, Lithuania flinched at the close proximity of their bodies.

There was nothing but awkward silence. Lithuania wasn't exactly sure what to say and America remained silent, refusing to look at Lithuania. America's forehead was creased in thought and he was frowning slightly.

Finally Lithuania managed to make a slight choking noise that sounded something like a word, and America looked up from his thoughts.

"You cool now?" He asked shortly. Lithuania's mouth quivered a bit, still upset and afraid, but he nodded anyways. America's frown deepened and he shook his head, "No you're not."

"N-No! Really! I-I'm a-a-alright!" Lithuania cringed at how badly his voice was quivering. Anyone could see through that blatant lie. His hoarse voice cracked slightly on the last word and Lithuania tried clearing his throat again.

"Oh! You're thirsty!" America's smile was suddenly back. He smacked a fist into the palm of his hand, making Lithuania twitch slightly at the sound, "I know what'll do the trick!" He got up and ran out of the room, leaving Lithuania alone once again.

America was…very different from the nations Lithuania had known. He didn't have that edge to him that so many of the older nations had. His eyes were clear of the years of suffering that so many of their kind had these days, although that wasn't to say there weren't signs of pain. America's long sleeves had been rolled up and Lithuania could clearly see some scars dotting his skin. Most likely those scars would heal, and wouldn't be seen again…except there was one scar that caught his attention. It had been a bit higher up on his arm, disappearing into the upper folds of America's shirt. That scar still looked red and angry, and if Lithuania was correct, it wouldn't heal anytime soon. In fact, he had seen a scar like that on many other nations as well. Russia had one like that, only his was much, much worse. The scar would wind up around the arm, and make a slow, jagged descent to the heart. It was probably one of the few blemishes that so many nations would share. A scar that would remind them all of the war they had just fought…

"Okay, so try this!" Lithuania jerked his head up, staring at America hovering above him holding out a bottle of some brownish looking liquid.

"…What?"

"Try some of this! It's called cola. My people are drinking it up like crazy! It's delicious!" America enthused. He stepped forward to hand Lithuania the bottle, but then drew back again. Carefully, America placed the bottle on the floor and walked a few steps back, sitting down and looking at Lithuania expectantly.

Lithuania could have laughed; America was treating him like some startled animal, although, in all honesty, that probably wasn't very far from the truth at the moment…

Deciding to take this gift of goodwill, Lithuania reached forward to grab the drink. His hands quaked as he attempted to pull the cap off, eventually succeeding after America took pity on him and gave him a bottle opener, smiling apologetically as he slid the device across the floor.

With the bottle cap finally off, Lithuania felt slightly less eager to drink this 'cola'. The drink bubbled as he shook the bottle from side to side, and the dark brown liquid look significantly less throat quenching than it had a few minutes ago. Still, with America looking on eagerly, Lithuania took a tiny sip. And then another. And another.

It was possibly one of the strangest taste sensations he had ever experienced. The cola fizzled down his throat and left a sweet aftertaste. Lithuania couldn't pin down anything the taste of cola resembled. The sweetness of the drink almost made him gag when he took too big a sip, and as he coughed up the cola, a bit made its way into his nostrils and left them stinging and suddenly sensitive to all the smells around him.

"I did that my first time too! Stuff tastes great but don't try inhaling it!" America laughed at Lithuania's startled face. "Just shake it off and keep drinking. Cola gets better with every taste!"

A beeping sound sounded from downstairs and America jerked up. "Cookies are done!" he said, "Just wait here and I'll be back, hopefully with really good cookies!"

As America left, grinning and waving at Lithuania, a warm feeling settled itself into Lithuania's startled heart. He twitched slightly, trying to name it, but was unable to. The name of the feeling kept slipping through his mind, never allowing itself to be caught.

The door was left ajar when America left. Lithuania kept sipping at his cola, but felt almost a slight tugging for him to walk out that door. Where Lithuania had lived before…the door to whatever room he was in was always left closed and locked so that he couldn't escape. But now, Lithuania could just walk right on out. Would America try to stop him? Would he push him back into the room and slam the door shut, leaving Lithuania alone for hours? The bottle of cola began to slip through Lithuania's hands as his body began to sweat with a freezing fear. Lithuania clutched both his hands around the bottle in hopes that it wouldn't crash to the ground.

Russia had always hated messes in his house. What would he do to Lithuania if he found shards of glass and a huge brown spot all over his rug? Oh god, was Lithuania going to remember anything about what happened next? Sometimes he had woken up with a massive headache, entire body in pain without a single memory of the night before.

Russia was here. He was going to hurt Lithuania. Lithuania couldn't move. Everything began to tilt a bit as more and more panic overtook him. Oh no, he couldn't breathe. Where was he again? Russia's house, right? Why was he sitting down? He had work to finish. If he didn't finish, bad things would happen.

The glass finally slipped through his shaking hands and crashed onto the floor, spilling the drink everywhere. Shit! Russia would-he would-…

Lithuania scrabbled on his hands and knees to clean the mess up. Where were the towels? Downstairs, right? He ignored the shouts of pain from his body as he shot upward, running out of the room and down the nearest steps he could find. Lithuania didn't even notice that the house looked different. Warmer and more open than the house he was used to.

Lithuania whipped his head around, searching for the direction of the kitchen. Faintly he heard clinking noises from somewhere and assumed that Latvia must be messing up the kitchen again. Running back into that direction, he burst through the doorway. And then- there was singing.

Absolutely awful, at the top of your voice, singing.

Lithuania's eyes traveled all of the kitchen in a matter of seconds. Gone were the boarded up windows of war and holes in the wall that he had been able to repair from Russia's last fit. Instead, light filled every corner of the room from the enormous windows fitted all around the room. White and yellow tiles spilled all over the floor and warped themselves into patterns that made Lithuania's head spin.

And in the center of it all was a yellow haired man in a blue apron, spinning around and singing as he deposited cookies onto a plate.

America spun around yet again and finally caught sight of Lithuania. "Hey, should you really be up?" He squinted and pushed his glasses up. "You don't look so good. Maybe you need a cookie! They're pretty good! A little burnt maybe but they're still edible!" America turned away once more and began cleaning up, obviously trying to give Lithuania a little space to grab a cookie.

For only a moment, Lithuania held himself up. He kept trying to process the scene in front of him, but then his tortured legs gave way and he fell painfully to the ground.

Why was he always so afraid? Why couldn't he ever do anything to help himself?

"I'm so weak." Lithuania whispered, covering his eyes as he felt the soft burn of tears beginning in his eyes. The house had been so warm. But now Lithuania could only feel the freezing cold thousands of miles away.

Lithuania never noticed the clattering sound that came from the cookie sheet being dropped. He never heard the soft and hesitant footsteps coming toward him. But he did notice when hot arms wrapped around him, clinging his body to another's; the same soft warm feeling from before moved itself back into Lithuania, struggling with the cold that was still left.

"Hey, no you aren't," America's voice breathed softly in his ear, "you just came across miles of ocean in a cargo box. You've had to deal with Russia's temperament for years. I'd say that since you're standing here now in front of me means you're pretty dang strong."

Lithuania's throat constricted and he tried to push the other away. But America held fast and refused to let go.

"You don't know anything!" Lithuania cried, "I couldn't protect myself! I couldn't protect any of the others! Even now I can't forget what happened and I still suffer!" He was beginning to feel sick.

"I know. I know that the past still lingers in your heart. It does for all of us. But you're still moving forward, and if you keep doing that, one day you'll find yourself happy. It just takes some time." America gently stroked Lithuania's disheveled hair.

"How?" Lithuania choked out. America pulled back, looking at him confused. Lithuania increased his grip on America's arms and asked, "How do you know?"

The American grinned bashfully, "Well, it's always worked for me. And besides," he leaned back in towards Lithuania, touching their foreheads together, "if I'm around you, things are sure to look up!"

Lithuania realized that the man in front of him was probably slightly conceited, an idiot, foolish, silly, and had no way of backing up anything he said.

But…

Lithuania shakily leaned into America's touch, trying to carefully control his breathing as a panic attack tried to set it. Lithuania gritted his teeth and attempted at letting the warmth overtake the cold. The freeze from his past wasn't gone, not by a long shot, but it no longer took up the entire space of his heart.

America was all those things. But he was also kind, thoughtful, warm, and he wanted to help those who needed it, even if he would probably end up getting the backlash of the problem.

America was someone he could trust.

Right away? No. But Lithuania was willing to give it time.

"We cool now?" America's voice sounded above him, and slowly Lithuania lifted his head to look into those bright blue eyes.

"Yes. I think you're right." America beamed at those words.

"Awesome! Now why don't you go ahead and sit over on the couch and I'll bring in some cookies and cola!" America helped Lithuania up and gave him a slight shove in the right direction, quickly spinning around to collect the cookies.

The same warm feeling from earlier blossomed throughout Lithuania's heart, melting the cold away for an instant.

Safety.

"I'm safe." Lithuania whispered softly.