Interrogation Time

Francis strode down the hallway,looking at the dorm rooms,as if on a mission.He stopped when he reached Room 99 and stood in front of it.He took a deep breath,glaring at the door,and then knocked.He needed to ask Ivan if he had anything to do with the fire.It was very suspicious that the Russian knew about the fire before it really started to form.He wanted to asked how he knew,and if he started it.And especially why.He pounded on the door,not caring at all at how loud he was.

The one whom he expected to answer the door, reached and touched the door frame with his finger tips, over France's shoulder by a long shot.

He stood, stopped in the middle of the hall with eyes milking in all the furious emotion France gushed.

"Can I help you?"

Francis huffed a bit."That fire,"he stated simply."I have a question.Remember how you came into the common room and automatically knew about it?I'd like to know why.Did you start it?"He raised a sleek eyebrow,arms crossing in front his chest.

Ivan raised his eyes to the ceiling, rolling on the heel of his shoe like the man child he was.

"No," he said simply after the airy pause, "I... don't like fire. Didn't you smell it? It vas nauseating."

Maybe is wasn't worse then his perfume.

"Non.Not at all.It took a few minutes after you told me that you could smell it or whatever that I started smelling it.I'm sure Arthur can agree with that,"Francis said.He studied Ivan a bit.He was sort of amused by his childishness,it was rather..Endearing to the Frenchman.

"The fact dat it was my locker doesn't surprise me," he said thickly, suddenly listening in (as if for whispers) with his head tilted. Like he was expecting the Frenchmen to confess to his sins, or Arthur's doings. Both had declined around the idea of a fire when they where on the scene. Extremely loud mouthed about it.

Questioning his sanity.

He bent low, careful to be steady and said, "if Ivan finds out you did dis... Or are covering for friend..."

"Would I risk my life going to stop the fire if I started it?"Francis scoffed.He couldn't believe he had been accused like this.He sighed a bit,shaking his head.

"Well..I have my theories,Ivan.And my theory is that it was you,"he said.He stretched a little bit and studied the Russian for a moment."So.Do you have any theories as to who it was?Besides me?"

He shuffled and yanked open the door, speaking, "it happened before, too me, yes, but I would have to actually speak to people, and I much rather watch. Sensible, da?" He said over his shoulder, tugging off his enormous, heavy boots. Not even making a move to un-clip his coat.

That would be insane in front of the famed Francis Bonnefoi. Even for a six footer of some two hundred pounds in build.

Francis watched Ivan.He huffed a little bit."I just sometimes worry about you,ya know.I feel like I should help you,but I don't know why,or with what,"he said,walking closer towards the large Russian.He ran his hand down his sleeve,feeling the material of the coat.

"Is that comfy?Would you want a new one at all?"he asked after a moment.The Russian was so interesting,curiosity striking.

Russia's expression hardened. To even imply he needed help...

"You can do nothing for me," he said, still cavity-sweet when the suject was drastic and unbalanced, "and dis burlap coat was made by me, I would rather keep it. Nothing else keeps me warm."

Not even the thickest parkas. This russian froze like he brought winter around with him as a stalking prone imaginary friend. It hung it's greedy hands all over his shoulders. Whispering 'he's mine, mine to freeze'.

Francis watched,nodding a bit."Well..Is it fur-lined?I can put fur in it,that shall make you even more warm."For some reason,he wanted to prove himself to Ivan,wanted to make Ivan see he was a useful asset to him.He wanted Ivan to think he was worth keeping alive.

Ivan would have none of it.

"Very nice of you coming here, but your fashion taste is not needed," his eyes didn't slit, but they were pretty darn close, a soft purr like sound of 'korukorukoru' building an escalating harmony in the undertones of his voice.

Toris had insulted his clothing once already this month. Things couldn't get any worse for Francis. This was the no go dinner topic.

Francis suddenly felt freezing,and wished he himself had a fur-lined coat.He stepped back,still watching Ivan."W-Well,alright,"he said softly."Ah,if you find out anything about that fire.."He couldn't move away from the Russian,his body was too cold,too stiff,to turn and run down the hallway,screaming like a child.He watched Ivan curiously,feeling what felt like hate radiate off of him.

Seeing the trauma beggining to compress in his round eyes. Ivan suddenly wanted to cripple him like a bug.

No remorse and no sense or reason; his sausage sized fingers suddenly curled around Francis's throat, pinning him back to a stray post brutally.

The scariest thing was... how do you react when the one who did this to you was so fascinated? A child with a newly blown balloon. . . Not even Francis's past thirteen girlfriends could match up. Unfourtunately, this cutesy smile was simply in place to see how long it would take before Francis's face turned blue.
On Ivan's side, it was staring at a creature so prone to flaunting over tragic love that made him want to...

How did this blond thing get love at every angle? Curse a woman with his charm and openly move from one heart to another.

The only heart he had was his own. And even that one was lost.

"Careful. Or Ivan might do worse things then make you sign France to be Russia's pet country."

He slammed him back. Tightning his rollercoaster-safety-bar like arms. They restrained the frenchies rib cage from moving... The target? His lungs. (What an amazing rabbit heart! So exilerating to hear something tiny was alive in all this lustful manikin. One as dead as him.)

"Serves right for them attacking our motherland, da?... But the time has come for Francis to see. This blind trust from a life of flirting stops you from thinking. One of these days, Francis is going to grow up...

...Then that day, no will love you," he breathed.

Because, no one loved a smart man.

"Let me speed up the process." ^-^ "By the end of this. Francis going to be old man."

Francis had no time to scream,what voice he had was lost somewhere in his throat.He couldn't fight,couldn't yell..He was trapped.And he swore he was bound to die.All he could do was hope that Arthur would be alright without him,would be alright after he died at the hands of the Russian.

He wheezed and hacked,fingers clenching and unclenching around nothing but air.His wide blue orbs gazed up at Ivan's lavender type ones.He tried to plead with the emotion in his eyes to let him go,tried to plead that he'd be better,though he didn't know what he'd be better at.All he wanted was to go,and to never,ever upset the Russian ever,ever again.

"Pathetic," Ivan snarled, "you've been scared of me this whole time! Only here to prove I am the monster you expected."

However, his fingers did not unbind from his neck. The skin there was flawless like the rest, unlike Ivan's who's throat was a merciless scar tissue mess of hack and slash.

"I saw you touch people I much rather you'd kept untouched, da? And Arthur's obsession vith little-Yao a few years ago... Drugging him for his own personal pleasure... At least when I drink, it's of my own choice." Said neck bent his round face to be at eye level. Those blank orbs drunk from Prussia's party.

Otherwise he would be his own, quiet, loveable self.

"I..Won't..T-Touch,"Francis gasped.His face was almost purple at the lack of air.His body was shaking,and he wanted to reach up and pull off Ivan's hand,but was too afraid to do so.Plus,he was positive it would be useless,that he'd be powerless against the much larger Russian.He closed his eyes tight,trying to get at least a breathful of sweet,precious oxygen.He felt light headed.He felt weak.He felt half dead.He felt..Pure terror.

All Arthur had wanted to do was sleep. Classes had been hard, he was hungry but with no appetite for anything, and he felt like he was dead on his feet. He'd ignored everyone he'd seen that day, even Gilbert, who had suggested going for a shot. And he hadn't seen Francis, at all. Not that he WANTED to, or anything, that pervert frog could just take his goat-face and go hide it in a corner, but...

Saying he felt like shit was an understatement.

And he turned the corner to the hallway to his room, only to feel even shittier. Because, not 20 feet ahead of him, Francis was standing. In thin air. Because of the hand on his throat holding him up.

Well fuck.

"Oh bloody hell, what in the seven seas is going on here!?" he sighed, ticked, as he advanced for the Russian pinning the frog against the wall. "Ivan." he looked up at the taller teen. "Let him down before you kill him. Or do you want me to start the second Anglo-Russian war?"

Francis had tears in his eyes.They rolled a bit to look at Arthur.He started to make loud,rasping noises,trying to get Arthur to hurry up and help him,to hurry up and let him get oxygen so he wouldn't die.He felt so close to it..

"H-Help.."he managed to splutter out.He closed his eyes,unable to breath still.He wanted this suffering to just end.

Ivan took off his hand and caught Francis by the arm so he he didn't fall to his knees.

"You're making me embarrassed", he said blushing to Arthur, "I wasn't going to go very far."

"Intentions count less than actions." Arthur narrowed his eyes at the Russian. "Put him on the ground. Gently."

Francis took big gulps of air,the oxygen so wonderful,so needed.He heaved over a bit,panting.He couldn't speak,could only gasp for air and hope not to die,despite knowing the chances now were unlikely,though he knew it was possible for the Russian to turn and kill him.He looked up at Arthur,eyes wide.He wanted help from him still,wanting him to save him and carry him away.

The tallest watched France's overly dramatized theatrics with no anger or demand at all. The lack there of no more than a figment of imagination, a dream perhaps.

One kind of wondered for what reason would lead him to lose anger so quickly.

But somewhere under those layers and layers of winter-wear and emotional walls, it still dwelled. Trigger happy and unquenchable.

Shopping bags rested on the opposite wall.

He bounded them up sloppily and held them close to his chest. Ignoring both men for the moment as he treated the one with the flowers like a new-born child.

"Your dorms aren't very far away, da? I don't have to carry him."

So cute, asking for permission now.

"It's alright." Arthur knelt next to Francis and immediately took his chin and forehead in his hands, tilting his head back. "I'll take him to my dorm. It's right here, anyways." he looked up at the Russian, slight relief concealed behind wariness. "Thank you for putting him down." he added before returning to his care.

He put one of his hands on Francis' chest, over his heart, all the while never letting go of his forehead to keep his head tilted and windpipe open. He then glared down at Francis calmly, almost coldly.

"Breathe, frog, breathe. Look at me and take long, deep breaths." he sighed, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized what he was going to say next. "I... I'm here now... Y-You're okay..."

Francis took long gasps of air.When Arthur said that he was here,a small smile appeared on his lips."Good,"he said softly.He carefully got up,grabbing,clinging to Arthur's arm.He turned to the Russian and gave a curt nod.He knew it was most likely his fault that Ivan did that.But he wasn't going to admit it.He hugged onto Arthur and hid his face in the crook of the Brit's neck.He closed his eyes,feeling tired.

"Up now, you massive bloke." Arthur sighed, doing his best to lift Francis up despite his scrawny musculature. He grunted as he balanced the dizzy-looking Frenchman against his chest. "Ivan..." he started, looking at the Russian, trying to figure out what was hiding behind those mysterious eyes. Ivan looked innocent on the outside, but what had pushed him to the point of strangling Francis?

If Arthur hadn't decided to go rest in his room at that time... Would Francis have... died?

He didn't want to think about it. Instead, he just looked at Ivan, either trying to find a spark of reason behind his stare... or the lack of one.

He didn't want to meet their eyes for a second, but when he did, it glued.

It was a frozen land, the yak had just perished, a mother cried for her child wich had died by winters cold in it's newly-born wet embrace. The child was to be left out in the forest, it's corpse eaten by something that hadn't seen warm flesh in hundreds of scoping miles. That something might of even been human.

On the other hand, its older brother did not understand why they coudn't just keep it. A child was a child, even when it was dead. The cheeks had looked so squishy and soft.

Maybe if dad came back mama would have another baby that would bring Ivan joy.

This one didn't last a day.

Papa would of been so happy to see something more patriotic then his flag.

Why continue fighting? Well, to nurture your dead yak and dead baby of course.

It just didn't hold the same ring.

Was he really cast to the front line as the letterman told them? Or was the letterman a poor liar?

Mama wasn't a smiley woman before, and she certainly wasn't one now.

No matter, Ivan could smile enough for the both of them.

.... Zoning back in, he spoke in his infant-like voice, "I wish to be best of comrades. I'm sure once the jet lag sinks away, we can be just that!"

((In the seige of Leningrad, the thing that killed the most people (a population of 3 million went to less than 600000) was the famine and winter. As much as it attacked the Germans, the Russia's died in their own streets with their own children beside them. Woman fought in the army and anything moving was eaten. Including children (cannibalism actually became a huge threat. People would lure kids and...}. Cats were eaten, mice were eaten, clean water was scarce. Bombing was normal and people would volunteer to stand on the roofs to yell out if they could see bombers.))

"Oui..Comrades.."Francis murmured with a nod.He didn't look into those eyes.He had seen enough of them for a lifetime while he was being choked,strangled,and nearly killed.He had seen enough of those exotic-colored eyes,enough to know there was something behind them.He didn't know what,if it was good or bad.He just knew something was there,in the Russian,sleeping.Most likely waiting to be let out.He hid his face against Arthur,giving him a tight hug.

"W-Well..We must be off..Oui,Artie?"He looked up at his boyfriend,praying for a yes,a yes,let's get out of here.How about to my room?But he doubted Arthur would go so far as to invite him into his bedroom.The Brit would most likely deposit him at his dorm and go off to do whatever it was that British students do when not spending time with their boyfriends.

((Oo.To think that's what happened,that it wasn't entirely the Germans to blame for the death of so many of them..
Also,I really love how you compared it to a yak family.You're such an amazing writer,I'm so jealous.))

{{You could say I compared them to a yak family, but that wasn't my intention.

I don't really mind, though.

From what I understood, the Russian government was banning some parts of the food distribution system and also the rights to nurture certain number of acres of fields because those could potentially feed a hungry squadron of German army men. The problem was, most of the Russian war tactics were highly... I wouldn't say suicidal... Like, they would burn down their own villages, their own city, their own fields (it's called the 'scorched earth policy' the very reason Ivan fears fire).

This mixed with temperatures so intense, it would freeze your very fingers off their bone.

Needless to say, Russia was not a huge target most of the time. And when Russia lost, everyone else lost almost just as much casualties.

Once you brake into their cities and kill their children, unlike some places were one would flee for their life, the Russians stood united, completely understanding that most of them would die. Not a healthy mindset, but it's war, and the core reason why Nazi Germany fell.

WW2 is considered in Russia the 'War of the patriots'.

But what happened after that gets murderously complicated to explain. So I will close my book, take a sip of tea and end that history lesson.}}

((Russian history is much more interesting than I give it credit for.It's so amazing to think about how people once thought of things,how they once did things..Got to love history.))

((Insert me feeling extremely proud because I totally knew what the siege of Leningrad was even before reading your very interesting explanation on it :D Well then, I guess I've furthered my knowledge of the subject. History is so fascinating <3))

"Comrades. Why not." Arthur blinked at Ivan neutrally. "It seems we don't know each other very well. Perhaps we could remedy to that over a cup of tea sometime?" It was true, he didn't know Ivan very well. So he couldn't yet gauge him, measure him, weigh him out. What a mysterious person this Russian turned out to be.

Arthur's curiosity had been sparked, to say the least. He wanted to know what was hiding behind those bright eyes of his.

No matter. Curiosity or not, he still had a duty to fulfill as a boyfriend in a relationship that promised mutual protection. The tea party could come later. Francis needed his support now.

"You need some rest." Arthur noted with a raised brow, sighing as he returned his boyfriend's embrace. "Can you manage to walk over to your own room, or....?"

Ivan had shut the door behind him with a loud clacking. Not leaving a trace of where he'd left off.

Mysterious or not, he was still a stiff, frustrated spirit with outer-motives. People would have to take the hint of his depression... Unless they had the means to tame his snap sleet. Otherwise, this magical-rainbow-friendship-path looked as scarce and as icy as ever.

Leave it to Arthur for thinking of such things.