lothinielflowermaiden | The Long Road Ch28

Warning: Like the previous chapter this chapter also contains some suicidal thoughts, as well as discussion of those thoughts. If this is a trigger for anyone, please read with caution. A brief summary of chapters 27 and 28 will be provided at the beginning of the next chapter, in case anyone needed to skip them.

Chapter Twenty-eight

When Norway opened his eyes sometime later, he was surprised to find himself in the bed in his hotel room. The last thing that he remembered was being on the roof—actually, the last thing he remembered was falling, so he was a little surprised to be waking up at all. However, that memory left him even more confused about how he had gotten here.

At first, he thought he was alone in the room, but when he looked to the side, he saw that Iceland was here with him. The younger nation had pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, and was sitting there watching him. No one else was in the room, though.

"I told you not to scare us like that again, bróðir," Iceland said, after a few moments had passed. "You could have been killed."

Norway wasn't sure how to respond to that at first. On some level, he was still wondering if that outcome might have been better. He may have turned away from the edge right before he had started to fall, but he still believed that his family might be better off without him. But any thoughts he might have had of saying something like that were banished by sight of the tearstains still visible on the younger nation's face. When Norway saw that, the only thing he felt was guilt at the realization that he had hurt the one person he had vowed to never hurt. "I'm sorry," he said, after a few moments. That was only partially true—he wasn't sorry about going up to the roof, or about having considered what he had, but he was sorry that he had hurt Iceland.

Another couple of moments passed in silence. Norway was still trying to figure out what had happened after the last thing he remembered. He had no idea how he much time had passed since then, but he guessed it probably hadn't been too long. He was also wondering where the rest of the family was, as he was a little surprised that none of the others were there. After all, he remembered that Denmark and Sweden had been with him earlier—one of them was probably the one who had stopped him from falling. Maybe they were all at the meeting. Was the meeting still going on, though? Was this even the same day?

"It is still the first?" Norway asked after another few moments of silence.

"Yes. You've only been asleep for about an hour."

"You should probably go downstairs then. I don't want to make you miss the rest of the meeting." Norway assumed that the rest of his family was at the meeting, and he wondered why Iceland had been allowed to stay with him. It wasn't like anything important usually happened at the meetings, but still . . . Attending the meetings was an important part of being a nation.

"The meeting isn't going on right now."

Before Norway could ask about the meeting, the door opened and Finland entered the room.

"Oh, good, you're awake, Norja. The doctor said you were just exhausted, but we were still worried. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," Norway answered. He still felt a little dizzy, but it wasn't too bad now that he was lying down. "What happened?"

"You collapsed while you were up on the roof and almost fell. Tanska and Sve saved you and they brought you down here so you could rest. The hotel had called emergency services when everyone thought you were going to jump, so we were able to get a medic to examine you. He said you had just pushed yourself too hard, and that you would be alright once you had some rest and something to eat. Your blood pressure and heart rate are still too low, and you shouldn't have been doing all that activity. You know you're not supposed to be climbing stairs yet. Your doctor doesn't even want you doing that much walking."

Norway was aware of that fact, but he had chosen to ignore it. He hated being seen as weak and having so many limitations on what he was allowed to do. But he had not wanted the other nations, the ones outside his family that was, to know just how weak he was right now, physically. He was sure that he could trust them not to take advantage of him . . . He wasn't even completely sure that that he could trust his whole family not to take advantage of him. "Where are Danmark and Sverige?" he asked.

"They're downstairs in the meeting room. After we talked to the doctor, they went to tell the others that you were going to be alright. Everyone was worried about you, after seeing you nearly fall. From down on the ground, it really looked like you were going to fall for a minute. Tanska managed to grab you when you started to fall, but he didn't have a good enough grip to be able to pull you up on his own. So even though we could see that someone had grabbed onto you, it was still a while before it looked like you were safe."

"You were down there?" Norway had pretty much guessed from the way the account had been worded, but he wanted to know for sure.

"So was Islanti."

Norway turned his head to look at Iceland, who was still sitting in the chair beside the bed. Now he realized the reason for the tear stains he had seen on the younger nations face. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't want to make you worry. I just needed to be alone, and I didn't think anyone would look there." This was not the time to admit that he actually had thought about jumping, and that he still wasn't sure he had made the right decision by turning away from the edge. So he left that part out of what he said.

"Noregur, you could have been killed. When you almost fell, I was afraid you were going to die. I don't want to lose you, bróðir."

Norway hadn't realized until that moment that those words were something he had needed to hear. He had noticed that Iceland had started calling him brother more often during the past couple months, but had assumed it was just a way of not acknowledging their true relationship. But now he realized that Iceland might really care about him—and he was the one who had wanted Iceland to call him brother. And then to know that Iceland cared about what happened to him—that knowledge was finally starting to sink in for the first time.

And maybe his older brothers cared about him as well. They had saved his life up on the roof after all. If they really hated him, they could have just let him fall, and then they could have found some way to take over his land. But instead they had saved him.

He had thought that he was nothing more than a burden to his family, but maybe they really did care. Maybe they would have been upset if he had jumped. Maybe they didn't secretly hate him or have some ulterior motive for pretending to care.

While these thoughts had been going through his mind, Norway had started once again rubbing the scar on his wrist. As soon as he realized what he was doing he forced himself to stop and hoped the others hadn't noticed.

"Is your wrist hurting, Norja? You've been rubbing it a lot lately."

Norway didn't know how to answer Finland's question. He didn't want to talk about the kind of things he had been thinking lately in front of Iceland. But he couldn't lie and say that his wrist was hurting either. He had really just been hoping that no one from his family would notice his new habit. "No, it doesn't hurt. I didn't realize I'd been rubbing it," he answered at last. He knew that would be enough for now, and the topic would be dropped.

"You should probably eat something now that you're awake," Finland said. "You missed lunch time earlier, and you shouldn't be skipping meals right now."

Norway didn't really feel like eating, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed to skip a meal. Plus, he knew that he might feel better after eating. So after a moment, he gave his assent to eating. But there was still one thing he was wondering about, and he decided to ask that while they were waiting for the food to be sent up. "What happened with the meeting?"

"The meeting broke for lunch right after you left. Several of the others stayed here in the hotel, and heard the rumors that were going around that someone had gone up on the roof to commit suicide. Several of them went out to see what was going on, and others who were returning from lunch also witnessed the scene outside. Once you were saved from falling, most of them wanted to know if you were alright, and they asked about what's been going on with you. They've been waiting in the conference room for news. More people care about you than you realize, Norja."

Norway wasn't sure if he really believed that. It was still difficult enough for him to believe that his family might really care about him. Believing the other nations, who he had never interacted with socially without having been forced into it, cared about him was more than he was ready to accept right now. He believed they had probably been more curious than worried. Or maybe some of them had been looking for a way to use the situation to their advantage. But he did not say anything about that. "I remembered why you were sent away in January," he said, after a few moments of silence. "That was why I left the meeting. I needed to be alone, and I was afraid to be around anyone at the time. I didn't want to be found." He was silent for a few more moments before asking, "Was it really an accident?"

"Yes. It could have been avoided if Tanska had stopped touching you when you got so upset, but it was an accident. You turned your head suddenly, and his hand slipped. After that, you scared all of us by being completely unresponsive for a couple of minutes. We couldn't get any response out of you until shortly before the doctor arrived."

"I think I remember that," Norway said. "I remember hearing Island talking to me, and then seeing that the two of you were there, and that Danmark and Sverige had left. I didn't know when they had left, so I knew I had forgotten something. Then, the next morning, I couldn't remember anything that had happened the night before. And I still can't remember what happened in between those two memories." He guessed that the gap that was left in his memory was the time when he had been unresponsive. But there were still things he was wondering about. "I'm not sure what I remember is accurate, though. I remember being held down on the bed, but I'm not sure if that really happened." He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about this when Iceland was still in the room, but at the same time, he wanted to make sense of the inconsistency in his memory.

"It didn't, but I think that you thought you were being held down. It looked like you were struggling against someone. We thought you might have been having some kind of flashback."

"I remember struggling, but I can't remember who I was trying to get away from. I don't remember thinking that Far was there. And I can remember that Danmark just touched my forehead, and then that he was touching my hair. But I'm sure I felt hands on my shoulders." That inconsistency of what he remembered made him wonder if he was going crazy. Maybe everything that he had been going through was going to break him after all. "It was the same back the house—when I was upstairs. I was sure there was someone else up there. I didn't actually feel anything that time, but I kept expecting to. So I just had to get away—I didn't think about whether it was safe to use the stairs. I was already feeling lightheaded, but I just needed to get away."

"We probably shouldn't have left you alone up there that morning when we knew you didn't feel safe. We all knew you didn't feel comfortable going upstairs. Did you go up there that night because you were trying to prove that you weren't afraid?"

This time, Norway did not answer. He had admitted to some inconsistencies in his memory and hadn't been accused of being crazy. But he was afraid of the response he might get if he admitted that he still didn't remember going upstairs. And he certainly wasn't going to admit that in front of Iceland.

The conversation was pretty much at an end after Norway had refused to answer that last question. Shortly after that, the food arrived, and would have put an end to the conversation anyway.

It wasn't until a few days later on September fourth that the conversation was actually resumed at all. The family had split up for a little while after the meeting, as Sweden and Finland had gone to England's house in order to see their son on his birthday. Those plans had been made before the incident at the meeting, and after some discussion they had decided to go ahead with them. They were both a little worried about being away from Norway, but he had seemed better by the end of the day. And no one was sure whether he had really intended to kill himself or not—he had denied it every time he had been asked.

Norway was still having trouble dealing with the memory that he had recovered during the meeting. However, he was starting to believe it had been an accident, and he was also starting to really believe that his family did care about him. At the same time, though, he was having trouble getting rid of the thoughts had come to him while he had been on the roof of the hotel—it would have been easier than continuing to live like this.

He had actually spent the afternoon of that whole first day after the meeting at the hospital, getting some tests done to make sure that he had suffered no ill effects from the incident on the roof. And, once it had been determined that the incident had not worsened his condition, he was once again lectured about not overdoing it. He was also given a prescription that would help regulate his heart rate and blood pressure and hopefully prevent another close call, although the doctor was still hoping the situation would resolve itself once Norway had gained back more of the weight he had lost over the past year. It was somewhat worrying that the situation was not resolving itself already, as the doctor had believed it would based on what had happened in January.

Several times over the course of the two days following the meeting, Norway had started rubbing the scar on his wrist. Every time he caught himself doing so, he forced himself to stop, but he knew that his whole family probably noticed by now. None of them had asked him about it again, at least.

In the days after the meeting, Norway continued to have moments where he thought that maybe it would have been better if he had taken those final steps. There were other times when he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been woken up in time in January, or if he had gone through the door while he was trapped in that dream. It was usually when those thoughts were going through his mind that he found himself rubbing the scar on his wrist, but sometimes he did that even when he wasn't thinking about those topics. He wasn't sure if that meant that the thoughts had also found their way into his subconscious, but he knew that he probably needed to talk to someone. He was aware that the fact that he kept having these thoughts was not a good thing.

The big question was who he could talk to. Norway wasn't sure he wanted his family to know that he was thinking these things. He was still feeling guilty about having worried Iceland, and he didn't want to give his younger brother any more reason to worry about him. And he was a little afraid of what might happen if Denmark and Sweden found out—he was slowly starting to feel comfortable around them again, but there was still a part of him that worried that they might take any excuse to gain control of him again. And if they knew he had really thought about killing himself—was still thinking about it—they would have that excuse. That left only one person he could talk to, as he also didn't want to talk to anyone who didn't already know his secrets.

Even once he had admitted to himself that he needed to talk to someone, it still took most of the morning for him to find the courage to do so. He was just lucky that the person he needed to talk to was the one who had stayed at the house with him that day.

Once he had gathered the courage and walked the short distance from his temporary bedroom to one of the studies in the house, he still was not ready to talk right away. He just entered the study and sat down in a chair that had been placed there after he had started doing that regularly. This was hardly the first time that Norway had sought out the company of whoever was staying home with him that day, and then just stayed in the office with them without saying anything. At last he gathered enough courage to ask, "Can I talk to you?"

Finland looked up from whatever post-meeting paperwork he had been working on and turned around to face Norway. "Of course. I told you could always talk to me if you needed."

It took Norway a few more moments to find the courage to admit to the thoughts that he was ashamed to talk about. While he was gathering the courage, he once again started rubbing the scar on his wrist. "I," he started to say, and then stopped. "The day of the meeting . . . I did go up to the roof because I wanted to be alone. But while I was up there, I did think about . . ." He looked down at the floor, before continuing to speak. "I thought about jumping." He finally realized that he was rubbing the scar and forced himself to stop.

Complete silence followed Norway's admission, until Finland asked, "Are you still thinking about it?"

Norway wasn't sure what he had expected as a response to his admission, but it wasn't that simple question. "Yes," he admitted eventually. He still kept his eyes focused on the floor.

"We need to get you to a hospital or something then." Finland had already pushed the paperwork he had been working on earlier aside and got up from the desk. "I'll call the others, and they can meet us there."

"No!" Norway exclaimed. "I don't want them to know, please. I don't want to worry Island more than I already have."

Finland already had his cellphone out and had been about to dial a number, but he stopped when he heard Norway's exclamation. "Norja, if you're thinking about killing yourself, then you need professional help. I have no idea how to help you through that, and I don't want to take a chance with your life."

"I don't want everyone to know, though." Norway still kept his eyes focused on the floor. He was ashamed of having these thoughts, but he knew that he couldn't just keep it unsaid. He had needed to tell someone before he could actually follow through on the thoughts, but that didn't meant that he wanted everyone to find out. It was bad enough that so many people believed he had attempted suicide without their learning that he had really thought about it.

"I told you before that I wouldn't keep any secrets that put your life in danger. I have to at least tell the others so we can take whatever steps are necessary to keep you safe." Finland walked over to where Norway was sitting, but made no move to touch him. "And I think you should at least consider talking to a professional if you're having these thoughts. I would be willing to go with you if that would help make it easier for you."

For the first time since making the admission, Norway looked up at Finland. He could see the concern in his friend's face and felt bad for having put it there. But at the same time, he wasn't sure he could completely regret his thoughts. "I'm just not sure I can go on living like this," he said, after a few moments. "Until far came back last summer, I had managed to bury everything that had happened. I remembered that it had happened, but I didn't really have any memories of specific events. As soon as I heard that he was coming to visit, all of the memories started to return. And then, there were new incidents and everyone saw the last one. And there are things that none of you know about yet, and I'm not sure I can ever admit those things. And ever since the dream, I have remembered everything—and after remembering what happened in January, I'm not even sure if I can trust anyone. And I don't know if I can trust my own memories either." He could feel tears running down his face, but did not bother to wipe them away. "I'm nothing more than a burden to all of you—I'm ruining everyone's life at this point. And I just want it all to be over. I want to stop being a burden to everyone I care about. I want to stop hurting. And I just can't see any other way out anymore." He had once again started rubbing the scar on his wrist.

Finland placed his hand over Norway's, stopping the motion. "How long have you been thinking about this?" he asked gently.

"I'm not sure," Norway answered. "Since before the meeting, but it really started there."

"Are you just thinking about it, or have you actually made any kind of plan?"

Norway looked down at the floor again. He wasn't sure what would happen if he answered this question, and whether or not he should give a truthful answer. He had started this conversation because he knew he needed help, but now he wasn't sure how much he should reveal. At last, he gave the most truthful answer he could. "I don't know if it's really a plan, but I have thought about how I could do it," he admitted. "There are so many old weapons in this house, any of them could work. And I have those sleeping pills from back in January in my house, and that's just next door, so it wouldn't be too difficult to get them. Or I could just do what everyone thought I did in January—I wouldn't even need an actual weapon for that." He was about to start rubbing the scar on his wrist again, but was stopped by the hand that still covered his.

"Would you actually go through with this plan?"

"I don't know . . . Before when I thought about it, I felt like something was holding me back. And I know that I don't want to upset Island." He still kept his gaze focused down on the floor. "I don't think I'd go through with it. I want this all to be over, but I'm not sure if I actually want to die. I just want to escape, I guess, and that's the only way I can see to get free of all this pain. And to leave you and the others free to go back to your own lives."

"We wouldn't just go back to our own lives if we lost you, Norja," Finland said. "You're too important to us. We might eventually find a way to move on, but we would miss you, and I don't think we would just be able to stop missing you. Promise me, that if you really think you're going to hurt yourself, you will talk to someone."

Norway looked up, but did not answer right away. He was trying to decide if he could keep that promise—initiating this conversation had been hard enough; he wasn't sure if he would be able to talk if he was more determined to do something. But at last he said, "I promise."

"And will you at least consider talking to a professional?"

"I don't think I can. Talking to you about these things is hard enough, and you know more than a stranger would. If I talked to a professional, I would have to tell them everything about Far, and I'm not sure I can do that. It hurts too much just to think about it."

Finland squeezed Norway's hand gently, but it was enough to the stop the motion he had once again made to start rubbing the scar. "You can always talk to me, whenever you need to, Norja."

Norway had already known that without having to be told again, but something about the reminder reassured him. It comforted him to know that there was one person that he could talk to about anything, and who would not judge him. And he was grateful for everything that Finland had done to help him ever since this whole situation had begun, although he could not find the words to express that gratitude at the moment.

Author's notes: I had hoped that get this chapter out earlier this week, but school is looking like it's going to be pretty time consuming. So, until this story is complete, updates will probably be posted on Friday mornings, as that is the only day I don't have classes. The next update will probably be up two weeks from now, if I can get it edited by then.

Some of the conversation in the last scene is actually based on some research that I did into suicide prevention. Every website that I looked at had a list of questions to ask to determine whether or not there was a serious risk. Based on the answers given in this scene, Norway is currently somewhere between moderate and high risk of actually going through with these thoughts. So, he's not at the point where he needs professional help, but his family is not going to be leaving him alone any time soon.

The next chapter will begin a story arc that will reveal more details of the things that Scandia did. So, for anyone that has been waiting to find out things like how the abuse began, that will be in the next few chapters.

I don't think I have any other information that I need to provide here, but if anyone has any questions, I will try to find a way to address them.