Everywhere I turn I hurt someone

But there's nothing I can say to change the things I've done

I'd do anything within my power, I'd give everything I've got

But the path I seek is hidden from me now 

Sweden screamed in pain as the spearhead pierced his shoulder, breaking through until it plunged into the dirt beneath him. He wrapped his free hand around the spear and tried to pull it out, forcing another scream through his lips as a violent shock of pain rippled through his body. Denmark smirked down at the younger nation as he slowly walked towards him, enjoy his pain and the tears that had begun to spill down his cheeks. Sweden's eyes widened in terror and he frantically began pulling at the wooden shaft that held him fast.

"Your struggles are useless, little brother. Give up," Denmark snickered. Sweden shook his head wildly, fixing a cold expression on his face through his tears, glaring up at the elder. "N-NEVER!!" he snarled loudly, finally succeeding in tearing the spear out of his shoulder. He shuddered at the sudden pain but he struggled to his feet, blood running down his arm and forming a puddle on the ground. Sweden could've sworn he saw a flicker of emotion in Denmark's deep blue eyes. Guilt? Fear? Whatever it was, Sweden didn't care. 

"You think I'll just give up?! Give in to your demands and come back home?! You're stupider than I thought. I'm never going back!" Sweden growled. Using the little strength he had left, he hefted his battle axe with his good arm and swung viciously. Denmark just barely dodged the weapon, the blade skimming his crazy blonde hair. Denmark growled and kicked Sweden harshly in the stomach, sending him flying backwards to land harshly in the crisp snow.

Gasping at the pain surging through his weakening body, Sweden struggled to stand back up but merely collapsed back into the already reddening snow. Tears welled up in his eyes as Denmark approached him, his entire form shaking with rage and surrounded by a red aura. Fear struck the Swede's heart as he drew closer. He could practically feel the rage rolling off of the elder nation in huge waves. 

"You almost killed me. YOU LITTLE SH**!!!" Denmark roared, kicking Sweden as hard as he could in the chest. Sweden only had the strength to emit a soft moan. He clenched his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. He couldn't show weakness to this monster. He was barely aware of the repeated kicks Denmark delivered to his body, oblivious to the sound of his bones being crushed. Sweden's body shook violently with sobs as the thing...the monster that used to be his big brother...raised his spear high in the air, grinning wickedly. One last tortured scream let loose from his lips as Denmark plunged the spear deep into his chest. 

"NO!! NO, STOP!!!" Denmark screamed, sitting bolt-upright in bed. His body was drenched in a cold sweat and he trembled violently, staring blankly at the tent wall before him. The events of the previous day still played over and over again in his mind even though the nightmare had ended.

"Sir, the Swedish forces are advancing. Norway requests your presence in his tent," a voice said just outside of his tent's entrance. Denmark grimaced and sighed, pushing aside his bear-skin blanket and getting to his feet. "Tell him I'll be there in a moment," he replied softly. The man grunted in reply and soon Denmark heard the crunch of his boots in the snow as he walked away. In a sort of daze, Denmark pulled his clothes on over his sweat-drenched nightshirt. He didn't have time to change completely. Hell, he didn't even want to get up at all. He couldn't take this anymore! He couldn't keep hurting his little brother...not like this.

"Berwald...I'm sorry..." he whispered to himself softly. Tears began to well up in his eyes and he hid his face in his hand. He couldn't show weakness. He was a viking; vicious, bloodthirsty, and cruel to everyone, even the ones they loved. But he never wanted this! He couldn't even remember why this war had begun. The bitterness and hatred from Sweden declaring his independence had still burned brightly in Denmark's heart. There had been no real reason for all of this pain and bloodshed. For the fear both of their people had faced. Just to gain vengance and mend his shattered heart with a false sense of power. He was a monster. Denmark had never wanted to be a monster in his little brother's eyes. Uncontrolled sobs forced their way out of Denmark, tears leaking through his fingers. 

"Denmark, what are doing?! I've been waiting for you!" Norway's monotone voice reached the crying Dane's ears and he frantically tried to control himself, but the tears and sobs kept coming. He heard his tent flap flutter as it was moved aside and Norway stepped in. 

"Matthias...?" Norway said hesitantly, placing a hand on his shaking shoulder. Denmark refused to look at the younger nation because, somehow, everything he looked at, that he touched, that he loved, always left him. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't risk losing Norway as well. Just the thought sent a shock of fear through his mind. And so, his tears stained gaze remained fixed to the ground as he continued to cry. 

"Denmark. Look at me," Norway said softly. Denmark gasped slightly and went rigid as the man's small arms wrapped around him from behind in  a tight embrace, pulling Norway and Denmark closer together. Norway rested his forehead on his older brother's back and fought back tears as Denmark continued to shake and cry, although his sobs had quieted to almost nothing. 

"L-Let go," Denmark whimpered, trying to pull away from the Norwegian as he was attacked by a fresh wave of fear. Norway shook his head and tightened his grip on him. The two brothers stayed that way for who knows how long, comforted by the others' presence.