May Our Frozen Hearts Heal, Beloved

An MPREG SUFIN! Don't like don't read

Rating: T for now

Synopsis: Tino becomes pregnant and faces tragedy. He and Berwald must fight to survive in the ever frozen world.

Pairing: SuFin, obviously

Genre: Tragedy, hurt/comfort, family, friendship

I don't own Hetalia.

"H-help…" Berwald looked up, the muffled words echoing in his mind, laced with panic.

"Tino?" His stoic expression cracked and he left the couch, the TV still running the news, for the bathroom.

The door hung open, fluorescent light pouring into the dim hallway. Ten PM was edging on, Tino shouldn't have been up at this time—he always slept early.

Berwald entered the bathroom, kneeling down and pressing his hand to Tino's curled spine.

Tino looked at him, his eyes bloodshot and teary, "I think I'm si—" he vomited into the toilet, coughing and sputtering. Tears of pain rolled down his cheeks. One of his hands clutched Berwald, the other his abdomen.

"Shh, calm down, let it all out." He glanced at Tino's hand. It quivered violently as he retched again. No blood came out. That's good, Berwald thought. He rubbed Tino's back soothingly, holding him close between episodes of sickness.

When Tino had finally come to a halt, he shakily rose, flushing the toilet, and shuffled to the living room. He slumped down on the love seat and pulled the blanket on it around him.

Berwald entered the kitchen, still with a clear view of Tino. "I'll make you some tea, Tino," he said and set the kettle. As it began to heat up, he glanced out the window. The sky was heavily dark, without a star and only a slim fragment of the moon perched just out of his sight. Their small backyard was illuminated a watery yellow by the porch light. A crimson leaf spiraled down from their single tree, signaling the end of summer.

The kettle began to screech and Berwald poured the green liquid into a mug, handing it over to Tino, who thanked him quietly and held the warm cup to his chest.

"Did you eat something you don't usually? It could be food poisoning." Berwald suggested, settling beside Tino.

The demure man, his eyes closed so the moth-colored lashes stood out against fair skin, shrugged. Berwald brushed away a few strands of pale blonde hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Tino eventually sipped the lukewarm tea, resting his head on Berwald's wide shoulders. "My body hurts," he muttered, "my hips, my stomach, my chest, my heart…"

Berwald looked down at him, words catching in his mouth; Tino had fallen asleep. The Swede lounged back, joining him.

The sharp morning sun prickling their skin woke Tino the next morning. He yawned, still sore. A dull throb now pulsed through his body. Berwald lay dormant still at his left, and Tino wondered if he should kiss him awake.

He decided that his breath was most likely sour and repugnant, but he did it anyway. Berwald's soft lips twitched in response, but Berwald didn't wake. Tino sighed and shed the blanket, leaving to make breakfast.

When Tino stood, something within his belly shifted. He touched it, lifting his shirt to see. A small sign below his naval pinged, like a light burn. He pressed his finger to it. It appeared star-shaped. Tino bit his lip in confusion, looking away and opening the refrigerator. With each step, bend, and movement his belly felt more and more odd. As though he were keeping a little flame within him.

With it, he felt warmer in the chest, he felt a sort of pureness. It was utterly delightful and horrifying. He felt motherly, and had a sudden surge of emotion: as though he wanted to pick up a duckling and care for it immediately.

Confused, still, Tino cracked two eggs and dropped them onto a pan. His thoughts trailed back to the star and the new emotions. It was as though he was newly hatched and now was a new self.

He wondered if Berwald would still love the New Tino, as much as he did the Old one.

Berwald stirred awake to the smell of pancakes, a recipe Tino had newly improved upon, and sluggishly pulled up a chair. "How are you feeling?" He asked gruffly.

"Better." Tino replied, placing a pancake on Berwald's plate and one on his own. After a brief cleaning up—another newly found need to do—he settled down and began eating hungrily.

Berwald watched wide-eyed. "It looks as though you haven't eaten in a year."

Tino looked up, a piece dangling from his lips and his cheeks full.

He shrugged and continued devouring the rest, swigging down the glass of cool orange juice.

Berwald watched, worried. Tino had an unusually small appetite. He would often only nibble on a hard-boiled egg or peck at a plate of salad. In the end, Berwald attributed this new hunger to the vomiting the night before.

And yet…

"You should see a doctor, Tino."

"No!" Tino snapped, furrowing his brows.

Berwald looked hurt. Tino had never snapped before. These new behaviors made Berwald antsy. "Tino… you need to. For me?"

Tino looked at his empty plate, picking at the stray crumbs. "I'm sorry for snapping… and okay. I don't know what came over me."

He touched the star on his belly below the table.

Tino sat at the doctor's office, jittering his legs in the waiting room. The smell of medicine and latex gloves chocked the atmosphere, only succeeding in making Tino more nervous. He was sure nothing was wrong. Maybe the milk he drank was sour. At any rate, the only obtuse event of the previous day had been the ominous man seemingly following him throughout the day.

Tino looked up, trying not to gasp. The man, omnipotent by the looks of it, sat before him. His dark, brooding eyes bore into Tino. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but the nurse called Tino out.

He tried not to look too relieved. He followed the nurse—twice the size of him and rather hard to miss, down the hall. She pointed her clipboard into his room. Once he had sat down and looked at her earnestly, she rattled off the necessary questions.

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

Tino explained, along with the circumstances.

The nurse raised a plucked eyebrow at him and asked; "are you male or female? Have you undergone any surgeries lately?"

Tino frowned. "I'm male, and now I haven't had any surgeries."

The nurse sighed and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. She left Tino in an uneasy silence. Berwald had work, therefore he was unable to accompany him. Tino pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked open messages, sending an "I'm at the doctor" to Berwald, smiling to himself. The golden ring gleamed on his finger under the phosphorescent lights.

The door opened after what felt like a thousand years. The doctor, an elderly man with a thinning hair line, walked in. He looked over the clipboard and smiled politely at Tino.

"I need you to take some tests for me. This is a very strange case—but don't worry, many people have it constantly. Specifically women."

Tino felt sicker.

Berwald came home, his jacket slung over his shoulder. Several dead leaves stuck to his hair. He brushed them off and heaved a sigh, happy to have work done with.

Tino waited for him wordlessly in the parlor, stiffly. Berwald composed himself, no time losing his head now.

"What happened?" He asked.

"I'm pregnant."

"What?"

Tino looked at him with both eyes, saying mechanically: "I'm pregnant, Berwald. I'm going to have a baby."

Berwald opened his mouth, then shut it. Then he opened again. Yet any sentence that did not falter in his mind froze in his throat.

"What?" He managed, several octaves higher than his usual voice.

"Do I have to say it three times?" Tino barked.

Berwald approached him, embracing him tightly. Tino burst into tears into his shoulder. "This isn't supposed to happen!" He wailed, "What am I supposed to do? I don't want to kill it, but the doctor said it's going to be very painful and…"

"If anyone can handle pain, it's you, Tino." Berwald reminded him.

Tino's eyes, the color of evening sky, blurred with tears and he shook his head.

"But it's never been anything like this!"

"Look," Berwald grasped his shoulder, pulling Tino's face towards him. "I don't get it either, but we'll make it through. We've both made it through worse. We've both nearly died countless times, we've survived mountain treks in the middle of winter, you've survived nearly being murdered, so this is a breeze. Plus, it comes with a reward. A new child! Isn't it riveting?"

Tino nodded slowly, remaining quiet for a long time afterwards.

"We'll do it." He said at last. Berwald grinned.

Days folded into weeks, which melted into months. Four months of early morning sickness, Tino's capriciousness, and sudden cravings for outlandish cravings had already passed.

Powdery snow swirled down, covering the rooftops and laden upon the tree branches. Berwald enjoyed watching the frozen, blue world flit by him as he drove home. It was another successful day at work. His company had managed to advertise a new product, earning him a handsome raise.

He approached his house, his headlights shooting thick beams of light at his garage.

Opening the door brought him a wave of warmth and a chill loping through the inside of the house. He shut it quickly and called; "Tino! I'm home!"

There wasn't a response. His heart pounded. He slipped off his shoes and entered the living room, "Tino?" He called again.

A stifled cry came from the bedroom. Berwald sprinted towards it, stopping at the door. Dime-sized drops of crimson peppered the carpet. Berwald fearfully pulled his eyes towards the bed. Tino lay curled on it, clutching his stomach. His white nightgown was stained with blood and his face with tears. Tino caught sight of Berwald and sobbed hoarsely.

Berwald crouched by him, rubbing his shoulder and asking desperately for the problem.

"Miscarriage." Tino eventually choked out, trying to sit up but being seized by agony. Blood seeped from between his legs. A long trail ran down his leg, curling around his thigh and dripping to the floor. The bathroom light still remained on. Berwald went to turn it off and bring out a moist towel to clean up Tino. The toilet rim and floor around it was soaked with Tino's miscarriage blood.

Berwald made note to clean it up before Tino could see it. He knew women who had miscarriages suffer horridly. He knew Tino would be no exception. He knew things were going to change for good now.

He picked up the towel and ran it under the sink, looking up at himself and catching his own eyes.

Was he even ready to become a father?

Would he ever be?

He didn't want to think about it for too long and returned to Tino, gently lifting the pallid, slender leg and running the towel over the stains. Tino had his hands covering his face, weeping silently.

"Let's get to the doctor, fast." Berwald stated and picked up Tino in his arms. One of his arms fell limply to the side, swaying as Berwald rushed out. He slid Tino gently into the passenger seat, strapping him in and getting onto the icy, slippery road as fast as he could.

Someone must have collided further up the street, for the traffic flowed like molasses. Berwald would have been able to bear it, had it not been for Tino's moaning and hiccupping cries.

"I want to die!" Tino called out, gripping his abdomen, swollen yet. He prayed, cursed, and pleaded quietly in Finnish to himself.

Each word snagged onto Berwald's heart and weighed it down further.

"Shh, only a little ways more. I promise." Berwald said, chancing a glance at Tino's crippled form.

"But I want to die!" Tino whined, "How can I live anymore?"

"For me?"

Tino stopped and stared blearily at Berwald. He leaned back without another word. They drove on towards the hospital.

-PlanetoftheWeepingWillow

My dearly beloved

will you ever forgive me

for saying I don't want you

the icicles around my heart-

from this ever chilled winter

have made my mind unclear