Love Me: Silence

Too many years.
Too many miles between them.
Too many sweet moments in his memories that were torturing him to death. He was in agony, crawling in the dark, shouting and pleading though no one heard his voice. The silence had eaten it all. All of the joy, the words, the laughter that had filled it. Even the quarrels and fights were gone.
The silence was driving him insane. Resting his head to the cold window glass he desperately tried to hear the sound of the silent rain outside. There was supposed to be a sound of the raindrops hitting the ground and the glass.
But he heard nothing.
The silence rang in his ears.
And he wanted to scream, shout, cry, plead for someone to come and break the silence. He wanted to hear someone laughing – it would bring the sun to his empty days. He was wandering through an endless night, and in his night, there was no starry sky. No moon to show him his path.
He closed his eyes, the cool window glass making him feel cold. "Norge" he whispered, repeating the name silently as if that could bring the other back. How he missed him... The bright smile and the ignorance Norge showed towards him, though they both knew he loved him. They loved each other so very much.
And he couldn't live without him. His sun had gone down, been stolen by the evil, envious moon. Twisting in agony he clawed at the glass, begging aloud for someone to give him the love of his life back. He swore he'd kill Sweden to get Norway back. He'd do anything.
He would, if he just could.
But he couldn't.
If he'd attack Sweden, Prussia, Russia and England would attack him back. And he knew that this time he'd die. They wouldn't break the blockade – he'd starve to death. And if it would come to the worst, they'd take Island.
He clenched his hands into fists and grit his teeth. Island... The poor boy. He was sick, so sick – sick and mad from missing his big brother.
He felt horrible. Norge would have wanted him to take care of the little brother, but he couldn't. He had no strength to do it – no courage to face the boy who had locked himself into his room and every night screamed and cried for his brother. Those times, the brief desperate moments were the only ones he dared to get close to him.
And though he saw how Island suffered, even though he suffered himself – he didn't cry. He couldn't shout, couldn't cry. There were no tears left, just the emptiness – the silence.
The silence that tore him apart.
The silence that killed his feelings.
The silence that ate all of the memories.
The silence that was now broken by a desperate scream.
And he knew what he would find, as he rushed to the door, through the halls and the corridors. He knew what he would have to face, and just the thought of it made him feel like his heart was about to break into pieces. Every night his heart was broken, and he still had to endure the torture.
As he pulled the door open, he found what he expected to find. The small, dark figure was on his knees, face buried into his small hands, whole body shaking from the violent sobs and screams.
And he took a deep breath, walking to the small boy, forcing a smile on his face as Island raised his gaze from his hands. The smile that made its way to the boy's face was about to break his heart, since he knew the happiness the other was going through was false. He knew Island didn't recognize him, he knew he'd hear him calling to another name soon. And he fell on his knees, sitting next to the other, once again terrified by the looks of the once so happy boy: his face was dead pale, there were black rings under his eyes, and his smile was so desperate it made him want to die. Seeking for comfort so desperately had driven him into using drugs... Gently he caressed the dead-cold cheeks, and wanted to die just to avoid seeing the condition the other was in.
He listened as Island started singing the song they both knew so well. But this wasn't the voice he wanted to hear. This voice was straight from his nightmares: hoarse and ragged, shaking from the cries. Unstable, violent coughs swallowed the words he so desperately wanted to hear.
"Always together, Noregur" whispered Island, smiling as innocently as a small child, tears still pouring from his eyes as he drifted to sleep. And like every night, he held the small, withered body in his arms, embracing the cold, dry skin. "Always, Island" he whispered, voice breaking because of the horrible pain the lies caused him. But he couldn't tell him the truth. He couldn't take away the plastic happiness from the boy.
Like every night, though his body was shaking, there were no tears, and he begged for Norge to come back – to bring them back to life.
To bring them back to life, before a morning Island wouldn't wake up to see another pointless day of this merciless and cruel life.
...before a morning his own voice would have died from not being used.
And then the silence would have it all, and he wouldn't know who he was.
He wanted to cry.