[APH] Drabbles

Wither - [ Dreamtalia ] SuFin

A/N : This was written for a project called Dreamtalia . If you do not wish to spoil the story , look it up on youtube and watch the videos . This story contains SuFin , with DenNor being hinted at . 

Dreamtalia belongs to deviants Pianodream and KyoKyo866

Who can sail without the wind? 

Who can row without an oar?

Who can leave behind a friend, 

Without just one tear to pour?

Berwald found himself humming this more than he would want. Though Tino couldn't hear him, he held his hand to his face, hoping he could feel the vibrations from his voice. It was nearly impossible, he knew, but he didn't care. 

Neatly placed in his bed with blankets strewn across him, Tino slept. Beside him, kneeling on the ground was Berwald, who wouldn't leave the bedside. 

Matthias and Lukas had left some time ago, hoping to find out what was going on. No, this wasn't a normal thing. Nations weren't supposed to fall into a coma, especially without a sudden happening within the lands to cause it. 

He was just taking a nap, a quick nap before a meeting with his boss. Nothing out of the ordinary, but now he wouldn't wake up. The Nordics were prepared for the worst, as it was best to keep from thinking the best was to happen when the chance was slim. 

It wasn't on purpose. Berwald hadn't planned on falling asleep, but with the same soothing notes coming from the depths of his chest and the warmth Tino's hand on his cheek, he couldn't help it. 

"It's pretty, isn't it?"  Tino said, as he pointed to the small white flowers, which hung on single stems along the ground. The large leaves hid a few of the bulbs, but the majority was in plain sight. 

Berwald nodded. "It's beautiful."

"They're sad. See, their heads hang down, they will not look at you." 

"Why so?"

Tino reached forward and picked one from the others, sitting back beside Berwald. "They are sad because," he stopped to admire the delicate thing, "they are death."

"Can't be," he muttered, "can't be."

"The truth," said Tino, "this is the truth. If you pick them they will wither, they will die. And if you ingest them," he twirled the flower, "you will wither, you will die."

Berwald hummed. He didn't remember the name of the song, or even the words within it, but he was humming none the less. "The Lily of the Valley are sweet, yes they are. They smell sweet, I bet they are."

"They are poisonous."

"They are sweet." He said. He leaned forward and picked one for himself. Raising it to his nose, he let the light scent waft. Sighing, he held it out in Tino's direction. 

Tino smiled and opened his mouth, "for the both of us," he heard, "the both of us."  His own flower was now resting on his tongue.

Without realizing it, Berwald had placed his beside Tino's. Two flowers, poison within them, they will kill the innocent child; the child with no malice or greed. 

He was gone. In the field was a Swede, he lie there alone. Where has his friend—his lover—gone. He stood up and scanned the area. No lilies in this valley, the lily of the valley was gone. All that was near and all that was far were single blemishes of the Earth.

Shaking his head, he frowned. This was wrong. These were Linnaeus. Fragile Linnaeus grew in pairs, yet all he could see were lone ones; lone ones, lone ones. They were so lonely. He ripped a single from the Earth and smelled it.

Strong. The scent was strong, unlike the other flower which he missed. 

Berwald blinked, and then squinted. He was in Tino's room, but something was wrong. A hand, a shadow of a hand was on the chair beside him. He raised his head and met eye to eye with Tino. "F- Fin?" He choked out. 

That wasn't Finland; that wasn't Tino. A shadow covered half of its face. It reached out—the same hand he had seen before—and brushed a finger against his cheek, wiping the tear away. He didn't feel a thing. It grinned, that of child-like glee, and turned away. 

"Tino!" He called.

Before he knew it, the creature was gone. 

And he was alone, and Tino was asleep. Just like the pretty little flowers he saw in the fields. 

He heard a sob and furrowed a brow. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he patted Tino's hair. His face was wet as he heaved out a long sigh. Tino was crying. 

Pressing his hand to Tino's chest, Berwald jerked it back when Tino groaned. Throwing off the blanket, he lifted Tino's shirt just to catch sight of a large bruise on the left side of his chest.

That hadn't been there before, Berwald was sure; he had changed him into night clothing before laying him down. This bruise was new, and not just that. It was large, meaning he had to have been hit hard.

But Berwald had been beside him the whole time; he would have woken if anything had happened. 

Three knocks on the door were followed by a few shouts. He sighed, stood up and walked to the front door. Matthias had locked the door when he left, which was nice, but he had forgotten to grab the spare key. 

His last three steps were quicker than they others—it was then when he remembered why they had left. Quickly, he unlocked the door and flung it open. Face to face with a soaking wet Dane, he frowned.

"What happened?"

Matthias shook his head, causing the driplets of water to fly into the house. He stepped inside and shut the door. "We went to Germany's house, but we couldn't find anyone. So we went along, looking for just about anyone. Turns out that everyone is at England's house, and they're all passed out like Tino." He shook his head and headed to the bathroom to grab a towel. 

As Berwald had hoped, Matthias kept ranting on the matter. "Lukas said something was up, so he stayed there. I wanted to stay with him, but he said you would worry."

"So we don't know what's going on? How will we help him?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't. The look on his brother's face was enough to tell him otherwise. It wouldn't help. "I'm going back to make sure Lukas is alright. Stay here with him, and be safe." 

"You just got back." Berwald pointed out.

Matthias shrugged. "I only needed to tell you what was going on. I don't want to leave him alone." He grabbed a thicker coat from the closet and pulled it on, readying himself for a second trip outside. Hopefully the rain will have cleared by the time he returned. 

"Be safe." 

He stopped, turning to lock gazes with Berwald. He smiled softly before saying, "you too."

Berwald made his way back to Tino's room. He slipped off his shoes and pulled out the covers he had so tightly tucked beneath him, just enough so he could crawl beneath them. He slung an arm over Tino and sighed. 

I can sail without the wind, 

I can row without an oar, 

But I cannot leave a friend, 

Without just one tear to pour.