[Archive] Earthquake Diplomacy [Greece, Turkey]

[theottomanempire]

1999

A natural disaster is something that is unpredictable even with the technology presented to us today. Yes, some of these contraptions may indicate whether a tornado will form or where the next storm will hit but the devastation that will follow….the way that people react or even the manner in which the government reacts are two different things. An area where earthquakes are fairly usual or rather not unusual should potentially be prepared for said disaster but on August 17th, 1999 things changed dramatically for a once prideful and thought to be well put together nation.

Who would have known that at 3:04 in the morning the very building that hundreds of people lived in would soon become an instrument of death; trapping, suffocating, crushing and killing. These buildings were all constructed by architects and engineers who knew what they were doing and yet this earthquake managed to destroy these places that were believed to keep them safe.

Sadik had been fast asleep at the time but it wasn’t the shake of the earth that woke him up, it was the immense pain that seemed to run through his body as his body jerked itself awake. He let out a strangled cry as he clutched his chest painfully, his body completely tense and rigid before he collapses back down onto his bed. It was evident that something was wrong and even more so when the ground his bed was resting on began to shake.

It didn’t take this Turk long to throw the covers off and stumble out of bed. He was in pain but he would push it to the back of his mind because at the moment he could feel that there were more pressing matters. This was, without a doubt, true. In less than a couple of minutes this earthquake managed to devastate some of the more densely populated areas surrounding Istanbul. Death toll count was increasing per hour and the feeling that Sadik was feeling was only worsening as time went on.

He didn’t even bother to wait for his government as he made his way to the first area devastated by the quake. Sadik had managed to pay a cab drive enough money to drive him out there as quickly as possible as he tried to keep himself still in the back seat. He looked horrible. His face was pale, his forehead was beaded in sweat and there were large bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept a wink last night which wasn’t entirely false. Fortunately for Sadik the cab driver never spoke a word probably just as preoccupied by the event as he was and probably also sensing the melancholic mood that surrounded them.

When Sadik exited the cab his expression worsened at the sight of Yalova. His eyes scanned the destruction and all it brought was more pain but not the physical kind that was devastating him at the moment but an emotional kind. There was nothing left standing or at least nothing worthy of noting left standing and the wails…the wails were killing him. It was as if someone had taken a dull blade and stabbed him through several times just so he could suffer more but what made this scene even worse was the squabbles that arose from the lack of equipment. Some citizens gave up on trying to attain a shovel and were digging through the rubble with bloody hands…others bickered non-stop.

This was not what he wanted to see. Not at all. However, the worst part about the whole thing was the fact that the government had made no effort to help as of yet. It seemed as if they were lost which actually didn’t surprise Sadik that much. They had not prepared for the earthquakes at all and Prime Minister Ecevit wasn’t the type to deal with shock very well nor was he one of the better Prime Minister’s he’s ever had. But right now he wasn’t going to deal with his useless government. He was here for his people and he would help them until the very end. Sadik didn’t care how roughed up he looked or if he forgot to eat….this was just too much and probably one of the worse things he could think of happening to his people.

[greece]

It had begun like any other day, full of life and renewal around the city of Athens. Everything had been in place, a lovely woman next to him serving his coffee and morning yogurt; smiling with an almost hinting nature. Seductively touching his arm as she gave him the bill early, allowing his card to be charged as he took a spoonful of the sweet Greek yogurt mixed with honey and walnuts. Chewing thoughtfully, his eyes wandered to the nearby television that was placed above the rafters in the ceiling. A fine, autumn morning on his land; the people just beginning to rise from slumber in order to greet the day. Nothing could possibly have gone wrong, and as his eyes turned to look towards the ongoing rows of homes; he missed the flashing signal on the muted television. An all out bulletin had been called, as his government tried to warn citizens of aftershocks that might leak into Greece due to the upheaving turmoil going down in his neighboring country.

The images were flashing red rushing by in a flurry as news reporters swapped to live coverage of the earthquakes, some of his citizens that had gotten up early crowded around the television. Some seemed oddly apathetic, while others had this mark of pity strewn across their faces. So many lives had been lost, and more would be as the clock ticked. It seemed like everyone in the hit city were rushing about aimlessly. Unsure of what to do, and not at all prepared for what had happened to their proud, mighty city. Deep within his conscious, however, the Greek began to feel as if something was wrong. Placing the spoon into his mouth, the man crunched thoughtfully on the treat as he went over his schedule within his head. For some odd reason, he felt—nervous. Almost sickly so, as if he had been tossed around until his stomach decided to reject all food or thought of food, swallowing the yogurt became difficult as it thickened in his throat. Something was wrong, there was no excuse for him to feel like this. Greece was fine, his politics were fine, his economy was perfectly stable.

And yet, something wasn't right.

”Oh, those poor people.” He paused, listening in on the conversation and the crowds now pulling together around the television. Lifting up his sparkling white wine, the Greek took a sip while plopping one of the green olives from the glass into his mouth. Sucking on its salty flavor as his eyes diverted from the crowd. Perhaps there had been some sort of hurricane in the Atlantic again? It wasn’t unheard of during this season, after all. ”Can you believe just having all of those buildings fall on you? There’s no where to run for them—Oh, I hope they are able to fix this soon.” There were mumbled agreements for the older woman’s pleas. The majority of the Greek population still loathed the Turks, but in the midst of mother nature—it was hard not to pity the loss of innocents. The woman had piqued his interest, and Herakles looked up from his glass as he took another sip and got up from his table. Moving closer, his height more or less gave him the means to peek over the shoulders of the smaller men and women that stood in his way.

A strong 7.5 magnatitude quake had struck Turkey, the death toll was at an estimated 2,000—and rising. Izmit seemed to far away, but so close to home—glass shattered on the tile floor as his jaw more or less dropped with it. Jade green eyes widened, his legs suddenly feeling weak as the cast flashed to and from the leaked images. Speaking in fast Greek, as the crowd began to converse and comfort each other in the wake of this catastrophe. Turkey might have almost been at war with him three years ago, but the loss of life here was not any sort of battlefield; nor was it even soldiers that were dealing with the losses. These were innocent people, caught up blindly in the wrath that no one could dare control. His hand instantly went to his forehead, the throbbing of his temples distracting him. Phone, I need to find my phone—a phone. Anything!

[/i] He had thrown away Sadik’s contact in a rage a few months ago, but he could call in to see how his government was responding to the sudden death literally happening miles away.

Quickly conversing with the waitress in Greek, he hurried over towards the phone in the back of the shop. Calling on his prime minister, the man was quick to relay the information to him. Turkey had yet to gain any support, and the death toll was now (not yet released to the public) building on 10,000. The more they dug, the more bodies were uncovered under the rubble. Herakles felt his heart sink, his fingers clenching the phone so tightly that his knuckles began to blanch with the pressure. ”Is there nothing we can do?” It was a surprising notion, but the thought of having Sadik gravely wounded when he could have offered at least food, water, and shelter—didn’t seem right. He was Sadik’s neighbor, and even though they had been so close to killing each other multiple times; he couldn’t bare to think of a damned Earthquake taking the Turk from him. There was only one thing that should have ever killed Sadik, and that was him. Herakles. He owed it to Sadik in an almost morbidly contorted way that it was only him, no other, that could cause that. Even then, it was difficult for him to imagine his life without the bickering, or anger fuming between the both of them.

He should have wanted to watch Sadik rot, shrivel up in the outbreak of natural disasters—and he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. ”I think--,” Herakles began, the other line of the phone oddly quiet as they listened to his opinion on what actions they should take in securing their position on this issue. ”We need to offer what we can, there are some supplies we have that they could use—it would seem cruel of us to deny them this. Let me go with them, there have to be willing volunteers here, I know it. Just send notification to Turkey’s government.” He hung up, heading off and grasping his coat as he left a large tip for the waitress. Shrugging it on, he gathered what supplies he could and made haste for the border to his east. No doubt Sadik would be there, among his people at the impact site. It was natural for any nation to venture towards where they were physically hurting. A duty they felt, not only to their people; but themselves. The aches would not stop, not until they had soothed the agony and death near the affected wound.

He had not, however, been expecting the sudden welcome from the Turkish citizens that were caught within the turmoil of the broken city. These people whom had lost everything in a matter of seconds, opened their arms to the Greeks as soon as they began to realize that they were there to give aid. Herakles knew more then enough Turkish to get him by, not that he would ever admit such a thing to the other nation; making the transition into the city fairly easy. Greece’s sudden desire to aid the Turks came off as odd, shocking the world—but probably not as much as shocking the Turkish government. Their ability to push aside their honor began to show, even if Sadik viewed this as one of his “weak moments” Herakles could have cared less about seeing him tossled. There was something he could do. He would do it, no matter how the other man might hate him even more for it.

Handing out one of the water bottles to a small Turkish girl, he whispered something to her in Turkish and smiled. She returned the gesture, thanking him as she reached out to hug onto his leg. Releasing with a flush, before returning to her family with the supplies she’d gotten from the ‘nice man.’ His head turned to Greek volunteers unloading the trucks they had taken across the border into Turkey. ”I’m going deeper into the impact site, don’t wait for me!” Before they could snap at him how stupid that idea was, he had already disappeared into the crowd. Around the crushed rubble, it was a lot less condensed—making viewing for Sadik easier then in the mixed crowds. Glancing over the hills of broken homes and buildings, he knew—he could feel that Sadik was nearby. When he caught sight of what seemed to be exactly how he could describe a ‘country in crisis,’ his mouth opened without a second thought—calling out the man’s name with a hint of panic in it.

”Sadik!”



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[theottomanempire]

Sadik was unaware of what was going on around him. It was as if he entered a zombie like state where all he could do was shovel, move some rubble and pull out body after body. He had to watch an elderly man clutch the dead body of his eleven year old child as he sobbed into the cold and stiff frame. He was transfixed by this scene and had probably stood staring for who knows how long before he realized that his work was not getting done. And as mechanically as a human can get he returned to his arduous task. He felt so numb…it was a numbing feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. One that he hoped he would never feel but here he was completely lost. His government was a mess. The apparent fund they had saved up for such a disaster proved to be nothing more than an estimated four dollars and everything seemed hopeless.

Now, Sadik wasn’t the type to give up so easily but with what he saw today he had really lost faith in not only his governing party but some of the citizens that didn’t seem to understand that they were not the only ones mourning. There were other citizens in the exact same position and if they just shared and helped each other out things would turn out for the better. They would be able to make a real difference if that were the case but right now it was just a mess. It was as if they had degraded from modernity back to the dark ages.

From the moment he had stepped foot on the area effected by the earthquake at four in the morning he had pushed on. Things were clumping together in a blur and the media vehicles and cameras went unnoticed by this Turk. As the day progressed so did his notion of time. The only thing reminding him that he was still alive was the pain that constantly pulsated through his body and the sting of the torn skin on his fingers and hands. His clothes were smeared in dirt and blood and who knows what else. Most of the blood belonging to the bodies he had to pull from the wreckages.

“Sir…do you want some water?” Came a voice that was quickly dismissed with a pathetic wave of his arm. Sadik didn’t even bother turning around to greet this person and instead continued his pathetic dig for more bodies. He was getting worn and any person pacing by would be able to see that.

Sadik was possessed and not once throughout this entire thing did he utter a word. Much like his failing government who were beginning to look bad in the eyes of not only the people but the media as well. The large Turkish man didn’t even realize that nations were sending aid or that Greece was the first one to do so. He was not himself and Sadik felt chocked up inside. None of these people deserved this…none of them did. This was cruel punishment for what? For nothing?

The sun had long since gone up, reached its highest peak and was on the verge of setting. It was as bright as it used to be and there wasn’t as many people out as before. There seemed to be a sort of calm that had settled over the city. One of relief as if someone had come to help. As if aid had finally reached them and things would suddenly starting turning up but although all these feelings were out in the open Sadik could not tear himself away from his work.

The shovel went in. The dirt and rumble came out. The shovel went in. The dirt and rumble came out.

It was a sort of mantra that kept him going. He would fix his peoples misery on his own if he had too. Breaks were for the weak and he was not a weak person and so he would continue on until all of this was figured out.

“Sadik!”

The voice barely registered to the Turk as he jammed his shovel back into the debris. It sounded a lot like Greece…but what would he be doing here and especially at a time like this. He was not in the mood to deal with the Greeks insolence and so besides glancing over his shoulder briefly he went back to work. There were still so many more bodies to find.

[greece]

There was no surprise that Sadik seemed to ignore his overall presence. Either out if dislike, anger, or hope that Herakles would simply forget what he had seen of the once proud Turkish city. Puffing out his chest, the man inhaled deeply; attempting to calm himself as he closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. He wasn’t here to pick a fight, no matter how the Turk seemed keen on ignoring the outright support that his people were attempting to offer him. There were two main issues he would have to deal with now that his country was supporting his (half) life-long enemy. One, not to rile each other up to the point that Sadik grew weaker and did bodily harm to himself. Two, that he took care of the man, and preferably got him to some sort of higher, safer ground in hopes that some sort of bodily recovery for Sadik would aid the nation into healing faster from the natural disaster. Staying at the impact site, no matter the attachment they held to the land; was not wise for a nation to do. It would only cause trauma in the end. If Sadik passed out, it could also have an impact on his economy as much as his physical body.

”Sadik!” He called out again, a bite slightly coming through his voice. Annoyance, which was more or less unsaid between them since the 1800’s; this however, stemmed more from the fact Sadik was seemingly ignoring him. As if nothing he did could really please the man, not until he found every body and counted each corpse. ”You idiot, come here--, Sadik it’s me.” Cursing under his breath in Greek; the younger nation moved his way around the large piles of sifted debris. The scent of kicked-up rubble beginning to get to him. He was beginning to fear what might come, aftershocks of the same earthquake—if Sadik or his people were even safe here with some of the buildings still barely standing on their last legs. His hand reached out, grasping the shoulder that held the spade of the shovel. Pulling him back and away, or attempting to, from the ongoing cycle that he was ensnared within. ”What are you doing, you’re going to hurt yourself, give me the shovel.” He had to remember to be slightly more sensitive, and lowered his voice. Trying not to agitate the Turk any more then he had to in order to gain his attention.

“My God, you look like a train hit you.” The Greek attempted to get a good look at the worn face of the Turk; never having seen him so distraught, immobile, and crushed. Certainly there had been some points in Herakles’ childhood where the man had come home bruised. Nothing like this. The look of pure anguish painted on his face made, for once in his life, Herakles grieve with him. The loss of life here was immense, and even if they had been enemies in the past; something about this touched him. The dedication Sadik had for his people alone seemed beautiful, he would have done the same for Greece if the situation arouse. Even then, he was not certain if anyone—especially Sadik, would help him if such a thing happened. It was best to not think of that, however, this was his choice, and he would see it through. Greece had offered to be more then just a volunteer donator; instead, it seemed they were working together as allies. They could have simply sent just supplies, but Herakles was here—along with other Greek citizens, trying their best to soothe the aches and pains of the Turks left behind in Ismit.

”You shouldn’t be out here,” Herakles quickly covered up his concern with a look of stern confidence. He might have been younger then Sadik, but he knew what to do when any country was facing a painful battle, a war, and especially Mother Nature’s wrath. ”If there is an aftershock, or another earthquake you’re going to collapse. There’s nothing your people can do to ease your pain, they don’t know what you are. If anything, you’ll cause a panic—and the more damage you do to yourself, well—how the hell are you supposed to heal from that?” His voice lowered, making certain no human or passer by came across their private conversation. Not that many were as possessed as the Turk to go digging through rubble for bodies.

Herakles’ hands moved to try and take each wrist of the larger man’s, eyes glancing up towards the the intense gaze he remembered as a child. It seemed different now, the venomous spark that normally ignited when he saw those hidden eyes seemed to catch aflame between them dulled immensely. There was caution in every move, every hold Herakles tried to exert on the older nation. Yet, he seemed so dedicated; so certain in what he was doing. ”Look at me,” He demanded softly, waiting for Sadik to focus on him before he said the next few words—trying to keep himself from making it sound too emotional. ”I’m here to help you.”

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[theottomanempire]

Dig. That was all that was running through his mind again. He had forgotten the Greek had called out to him. He had actually forgotten Greece was there altogether however it wasn’t because he was trying to piss the other off but more so because his mind was slowly deteriorating from the lack of sleep that was catching up on him. At this point his grip on the shovel was wavering and he could see his arms shake as he dug the shovel even deeper into the debris. He could feel himself waver a bit. He was teetering forward but managed to catch himself before he went too far. It would be catastrophic if he just fell over…because who would help. Who would dig up the rest of the bodies and clear the mess?

Sadik let in a shaky breath his hands tightening around the shaft of the shovel as he took a small break from the strenuous work to compose himself. Or at least try to compose himself considering his physical and emotional state. His hands were trembling again and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t keep them still anymore. From that one small pause his body was already taking control of the stubborn mind that would not listen. That was when he felt a hand firmly place itself on his shoulder he couldn’t come up with any strength to pull away. At this point things were becoming a bit clearer. His mind was un-fogging and he could actually hear the words the Greek was speaking to him.

He was working…that was what he was doing here. He was helping his people because no one else would.

However, this did not explain the Greeks present at all….had he come to help as well? But that didn’t make any sense considering what had nearly occurred three years prior to this earthquake. Why would he come to help out -when he was constantly telling him how much he hated Sadik. “Leave me alone….” He finally spoke up his voice coming out harsh and raspy. “…You don’t understand what I’m going through.”

Sadik tried to pull away but to no avail. It was as if Greece had a very strong hold on him when in reality the man was barely touching him. “Yeah…I look like shit…if that’s all you wanted to see then here I am…a mess…happy?!” He brought the shovel closer to his frame as if the object would protect him; keep him safe. It was nearly acting like his lifeline. It was what gave him that small bit of strength he needed to keep going but it was also the reason why he felt even more drained then before. However, there could be many reasons for the former such as the lack of nutrition, lack of water, lack of sleep and being exposed to such a harsh environment for a long amount of time.

The funny thing was that although he wanted to tell the Greek off he fell oddly silent when Herakles didn’t move away. There were times that he just couldn’t understand what was running through the Greeks head and right now was definitely one of them. “Why do you really care?” He snaps but quiets down once again when he sees the look on Herakles face. It was as if the other demanded that he listen and right now he didn’t have the energy to protest. Sadik found a spot on the Greeks shirt that was oddly interesting as he listened to the other lecture him. The sad thing about it was that Herakles made really good points and some that he really couldn’t argue. Of course, he wasn’t Sadik Adnan if he wasn’t stubborn and pig-headed.

And so at this point he was about ready to pull away completely when the other took hold of his wrists and as he frowned down at the hold he couldn’t help but glance into the eyes that constantly undermined him. Those blue orbs were the sign of complete chaos for him; chaos and confusion and so he averted his eyes. He didn’t want to see those bright eyes that were so full of vigour and life. He especially didn’t want to see these eyes pity him and -during a time like this.

”Look at me,”

His weary eyes immediately fell back upon Greece’s face and the shovel that he had been clutching so tightly fell from his hands and crashing to the ground. The only thing keeping him steady was gone now and it seemed as if the only thing really keeping him rooted was Herakles.

”I’m here to help you.”


Green eyes widened and the emotionless façade that he had been sporting disappeared completely from his face. His lip quivered up in a pathetic smile before he collapsed to his knees in front of the Greek. His head bowed, he stayed their…immobile as his shoulders sagged and began to quiver lightly. He brought his hand up and he gently grasped the loose fabric of Greece’s shirt holding it tighter as time passed by. Sadik was racked by the pain of everything that he didn’t really care if Herakles was here during one of his most vulnerable moments. The presence, no matter who it had been, was comforting enough.

[greece]

Few moments in his life was he ever at a loss for what to do. Normally, his intent was very clear. He was a free nation, a strong one, whom had a passion for his past that his mother left him before he’d fallen into the Ottoman Empire’s care. Even then, he had tried to remain an independent identity; something far away from those that controlled him, despite how much that had angered Sadik when they were ‘together’ an Empire. He was stubborn, but still strong—a worthy opponent, and the man whom he had bested in battle in order to gain his true independence. The road they both traveled was rocky, broken at the edges and slowly crumbling before it just fell into shattered pieces. Now, however, despite the complications of three years ago—he came to Sadik during his time of need. Watched in awe as the man just dropped to his knees and seemed to commence silent crying. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind, his lip barely able to stay stable even when the Greek knew he could have done it under the most stressful circumstances. His ex-enemy was hurting. Badly.

”Sadik,” he whispered softly, trying to keep his voice steady and firm since one of them had to be. Still, the emotional display was contorting his insides. A twisted feeling of mixed thoughts were pulling at him; tightening his chest and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Large, tanned hands moved to grasp onto his simple white shirt. Tight, as if frightened that Herakles might disappear into thin air. ”It’s alright, I’m here.” It felt like that was the only thing he could say in such a situation. Reminding the Turk, over and over—that he wasn’t alone, that Herakles was here with a volunteer force to help with what they could. Granted, he doubted that the force wouldn’t do anything without the blessing of the Turkish government, but they still pushed to give everything they could for those suffering here. At the moment, it didn’t matter if the person next to you was Turkish or Greek; both aided one another as people. In a way, it was an oddly beautiful display of caring. Understanding that what happened in the past, was indeed the past—there was only the future now. They had to keep going forward, or they risked repeating the same mistakes.

His hand slowly moved to gently brush over Sadik’s hair, eyelids narrowing in a tender display as he rested the other hand on the elder nation’s shoulder. His thumb moved in circles, attempting to stroke the tense muscles in the man’s strained shoulders. Keeping him steady, and allowing his body to become Sadik’s new pillar of support; silently telling him that no matter what happened, Herakles would stay. Even if it meant angering the Turk by ‘seeing his weakness at an opportune time.’ ”You can’t stay here,” he urged quickly. Moving to take Sadik’s hands and holding them tightly now; removing his calming touches to try and get his once ruling Empire’s full attention. ”I know you want to help, but you’re just going to cause more harm to yourself. You have to come with me, we can get to safer ground, and get you healthy incase another hits.” It was a big question, if the earthquake would cause after-tremors or even have another after some time passed. Either way, they were both in high risk. People were more prepared now, and the supplies were enough to keep those in need safe until more arrived within the week. Herakles’ job was clear, at least to him. Comfort, and heal Sadik to his best ability. Even if the man never returned the favor, or they never spoke of this again—Herakles could vanish knowing that he’d done the right thing for the both of them.

”I know you don’t want to hear it,” he continued in an almost inaudible tone. ”But I’m not here to make fun of you, or just leave you like this. I—let me—.” Biting his lip slightly, the Greek then got down to his knees and put Sadik’s arms down at his sides. His arms wrapped around the larger nation, and pulled him in tightly against his chest. It was firm, almost compassionate—but certainly protective. His eyes closed, trying to keep control as he more or less waited for Sadik to pull away and strike him. Herakles didn’t mind, the man could have started beating him and he wouldn’t have raised a hand back in honor of those that lost their lives in Ismit. The Turk’s frustration, sorrow, and confusion; he could understand where it came from. Having an old enemy, as well as someone you had ‘raised’ giving you such treatment would have been uncalled for in any other situation. Herakles took a moment to simply rest his hands on the shoulder blades of the Turk’s back, palms flat as he rotated his hand and stroked down the slightly dusty clothes that the elder was wearing. ”Maybe it shouldn’t have been me,” he mused softly, not really speaking to Sadik as he continued to stroke down his spine, and the back of his head. ”I didn’t want to make this harder for you, but—I had to do this. Even if you don’t appreciate it, or would rather forget, I don’t care. Just let me do this, please.”

It was an empty plea, since he knew Sadik was in no position to refuse him. Still, it would have felt better if the man understood the actual affection in those words. It had been hundreds of years since Herakles had said anything remotely hinting towards actual kindness towards Sadik. He rose slowly, bringing the man with him back to his full height as he simply inhaled and then tried to exhale. He wanted terribly to make sure, and check that Sadik’s heart was still beating regularly. If the nation collapsed on him, he might have the goddamn panic attack.

”Come on, let’s go. Tell me where your villa is again,” the phrase ‘I will take care of you now,’ was implied—but not vocalized. Sadik wouldn’t have gotten that lucky, unless he was unconscious during the quick ride to safe ground. Then, maybe—just maybe, Herakles would admit that he wanted to take care of him until this tragedy passed.

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[theottomanempire]

It actually felt good to cry….it was something he hadn’t done in a very long time. It felt as if he had managed to lodge something in the back of his throat that would occasionally burn as he sobbed pathetically. He may have usually viewed this as a sign of weakness but right now he just did not care. He couldn’t care about himself because his mind was on his people. He had pushed himself last and completely forgotten that if he didn’t recuperate neither would the nation. Sadik had been acting irrationally and it was starting to take its toll on him. His muscles felt sore as if he had had an extraneous work-out the other day and forgot to stretch. Nothing was responding and he felt as if he was shedding a tear for every person in the country.


Those words were comforting and even more so that it was being said by someone who didn’t get along well with him. It was surreal. Greece was here and he was helping. The younger male had not said a single word of disrespect nor had he purposely made fun of him at such a weak time. It was even more evident that he wasn’t alone, that there were people out there who cared and were worried for the people of his nation. There may have been a horrible worldly perception of the Turks in the world but that hadn’t affected people in coming to help and even less the Greek. He knew that his government would not protest to any help at the moment. It would make them look a bit better and he had a feeling that after this it would definitely change Turkish politics forever. Their foreign relations would take a strange and interesting twist but one that would hopefully better the future even during such a desolate present.


The Greeks small action had made him change his perception on certain things. His eyes for once were open and it wasn’t clouded by the rage he felt whenever he saw Herakles. There was no rage now just relief. This caused him to pull the Greek closer as he rested his forehead against the side of his hand. The tenseness he had felt not too long ago was slowly easing away thanks to the gentle massaging being administered by a certain Greek thumb. This was such a foreign concept and something he was not at all used too. Sadik wasn`t even sure how he could ever re-pay Herakles for this or how this would change their strange and messed up relationship. He listened to what the other had to say but he just couldn`t respond. His brain was screaming for him to at least say something but he could only suck in a breath of air as he bite down on his lip trying to hold in any noise from escaping him.


He didn`t really care if he wasn`t supposed to stay here….he had nowhere to go or rather he didn`t want to go anywhere. He knew he was being stubborn but he had to stay. There was no way he could leave, not yet. The hands that were clutching so tightly to the Greeks shirt were taken a hold of and he could feel the warm skin of the Greeks upon his cold ones. His hands were considerably colder than the other and it even surprised him. He didn`t remember feeling cold and what surprised him even more was that it was such a hot day to be so cold to the touch. Herakles voice stirred him away from his thoughts as he finally looked up at the other his eyes red and puffy.

If another one hit he wasn`t sure what he would do. It would just break him completely. His people would not be able to take another earthquake and the after-shocks were shocking enough especially with such a low response rate. They should have known they were going to get an earthquake! They should have prepared better! They knew that plates that lay under Turkish soil and yet they were stupid and irresponsible in the sense that they chose to ignore the threat by not preparing plans for such events. He only had himself to blame in reality. Sadik had been so preoccupied with other things he hadn`t even thought about things that could occur to Turkey but instead he worried about things that could happen to Turkey by other nations.

There were a lot of things Sadik didn’t want to hear but it never stopped people from saying it and right now would be no different. He was also sure that the Greek couldn’t tell him any worse news that what occurred to his people early this morning. However, when Greece seemed to find it difficult to continue he lifted his head up to look into the blue eyes he wasn’t minding so much anymore. The thing was if he had energy he would have backed away from the Greek as he kneeled down in front of him. What was he going to do? Not that it really mattered now since he was sure Greece wasn’t here to hurt or ridicule him anymore. Though, the arms that wrapped around him really surprised him. His body involuntarily tensed as he let the Greek hold him. His sane mind told him to push the other away. That this was inappropriate and something that Greeks and Turks should never take part in but his other side was telling him to just embrace it. To take comfort from it and let this be the beginning of something new.

Sadik sighed at the hands that seemed to massage and sooth him….it was oddly nice. Although, he probably would never admit that out loud he really did appreciate this and was starting to see Herakles in a slightly different light. Sadik awkwardly lifted his arms up in the embrace and wrapped them as much as possible around Greece in hopes of showing the other that he really did appreciate what he was doing. “You’re not.” He finally spoke up his voice becoming a lot steadier. “You’re not making this harder….”

He tried to help Herakles lift him up but found that his efforts were nearly in vain as his legs found it hard to support his weight. This was not good but he was sure he could make it at least to his place if he didn’t think of anything else. Sadik remained close to Herakles as he leaned a bit more towards him. “Thank you.” He murmured to the other before with a little struggle making his way towards his villa. It wasn’t too too far away and located in a fairly safe area. However, right now he really needed to concentrate on walking because each step he took the harder the task became. But one thing was for sure: Sadik would always be in Greece’s debt for the kindness the other bestowed upon him during his time of need.

[greece]

Certain things were best left unsaid between them. Complications with national identity and personal emotions would have been their downfall. Moving to make the positioning more comfortable for Sadik, the Greek knelt and turned his back to the other man. Nudging him up against it, he still had the Turk’s arms around him so lifting him closer was far less stressful on both of them. ”You’re welcome,” he muttered softly, trying not to flush as the body firmly rested against his own. Lifting the man up, he kept him as stable is he could. Having him tumble would have been the worst thing to happen right next to having his head split open under his watch. Herakles was strong enough to carry the other man in his arms, but saving some of Sadik’s overbearing pride came first. As long as they were able to move, he honestly didn’t care how he held the Turk—this just felt slightly awkward. Due to the man being larger then him slightly, but also the sensation of having someone so very, intimately close to his back; whom he supposedly hated for centuries, was not the exact sensible thing he could have ever thought up.

If they never did speak about it, that was fine with him. He didn’t need to get reminded on a daily basis how he personally carried Sadik out of the impact site to one of the surrounding shelters. It was close enough, where they could both return to help out once Sadik was in better condition. Which in all honesty, could take weeks. Mentally and physically, a nation could collapse from manmade catastrophes, or even natural ones. At least in this respect, Greece was not the enemy and Herakles could take his place tending to the wounds of the present. He wasn’t unaware at the change happening between both of them; but his government and people had made it surprisingly easy on him. As of now, both Turkey and Greece had a sort of diplomacy and understanding. The Turkish government seemed to acknowledge, and even accept the aid from their neighbor. Deep within Herakles, he felt something changing. He trusted Sadik, for the first time in his life since his war of independence; the man would not turn against him. They were mutually dependent on one another, and Herakles was free to aid in whatever ways he wanted to as long as it was progressive in the end for the both of them.

Ordering a private room in one of the volunteer emergency housing, he was lucky enough to get a sequestered part of the building. Most were still outside, working in the vicious cycle that Sadik had condemned himself to. They were far more adept to do so, however. The elder nation was battling much more then the sun, heat, and time. The burden he bore was complex, as with all nations—something no mortal could understand. Herakles wished that he could, if only for one moment, take it all away from him. If he had not been a nation, or suffering so deeply for the natural tremor on his land (and body) then he could have allowed him to be outside with his people. Tears could not bring back the dead. If they could, Herakles would have cried a hell of a lot more in order to revive the dead ‘mother’ he had lost prior to his birth. Sadik no doubt understood the truth in his words, and even though no amount of sacrifice could regain the lives lost in the tragedy; a new blooming relationship with their western neighbor had begun, even within sadness and dire loss a nation could stand united. Sometimes—with a new, unexpected ally at their side.

Easing Sadik onto the bedding, he was relieved to see that it was large enough to accommodate the nation’s body. There were enough pillows to prop up his head, and instantly Herakles went to work in treating him for his exhaustion as well as cautious that the man didn’t get heatstroke from being out in the humidity for too long. He walked around the room, taking off his shoes as he did so. Pouring some water into a cup as well as getting out some cloths with a basin where he could put frigid water to combat the heat coming off of Sadik’s skin. If he was too feverish, there was no doubt that some more damage would be done to the land and people—which was definitely not what they wanted to happen.

Moving over with the water, he set it down on the desk close to Sadik’s hand. Not wanting to offend the man by giving him the water directly. At least not yet, he would wait to see if the man actually asked for help. Or if he didn’t take a sip by the time he was done filling the basin with cool water from the side bathroom, then it would have been obvious to the Greek that something was horribly wrong. Pulling at a towel in the bathroom, he lifted the large, sloshing pail up as he returned to the bedroom. Setting down the tin instrument, he began to swish what looked like a washcloth in the water before bringing it up into his hands and wringing it out. Humming in a slow, comforting song—he sat on the edge of the bed where he’d placed Sadik, making it dip just slightly with his weight as the moist, cool cloth was pressed into the man’s temples. Gently guiding it around the male’s face, Herakles’ brow was oddly set in concentration as the cloth traced around the circumference of the old ex-Empire’s face. It was oddly quiet between them, since Herakles did not know what to say—his heart was oddly heavy with the same sorrow plaguing Sadik’s. He felt as if—nothing he could say would fix anything, anyway. He doubted Sadik would even bother listening to him, or registering that it was Herakles helping, and not some other nation.


Dipping the cloth back into the basin now at the edge of the bed, he glanced at the cup that seemed untouched by Sadik’s hands. Either the man was extremely stubborn, or he was inept to grab at the cup and drink the water without aid. Saying nothing, the Greek took the soft glass cup by the rim and pulled it over to the both of them. Nudging closer to the upper torso and neck, Herakles slid one of his arms behind the support of the pillows and propped his old caretaker up. Placing the clear rim to his lips, he nodded in an almost calm fashion. ”Here, drink it all—you’re probably really dehydrated from being outside for so long.” tilting the glass back in slow intervals, he would wait until Sadik swallowed to pull back, and then offer him the glass once more. When it was empty, the Greek pulled it away and set it down on the nightstand. Fumbling his hand back down as he grappled for the cloth once more; now folding it up after wringing it and placing it on Sadik’s warm forehead. ”You should try resting now, I’ll be here. I can promise you that much.”

[/font]

[theottomanempire]

Sadik had been ambling forward with quite a bit of difficulty before Herakles knelt before him and pretty much gave him no other choice but to let the Greek carry him. At first, he wanted to protest. He had two feet and legs and was more than capable to carry his own weight. But, at the same time, when he was lifted completely off the ground he could feel his body give out a sigh of relief as it nearly melted against Herakles back becoming nearly numb. Sadik rested his forehead on the top of the Greeks head and closed his eyes. “You know, I’m capable of walking myself.” He mutters just as softly not really struggling and letting the other do as he wishes. “It’s not like I broke any bones.”

Well, perhaps breaking a bone would have felt less painful than what he was feeling now. The sharp pain from the initial earthquake hadn’t quite ebbed away and it seemed to be pulsating around his heart. There were some moments were the pain was too unbearable and others where it was just a constant pain that could be ignored if he tried enough. This easily explained why he didn’t stop digging. Why he kept himself working very hard in a crazed frenzy. Although now, after such a long day and a sleepless night and especially now that his body thought it was okay to relax the pain was returning full force. It was more from the pain of his people rather than the destruction the earthquake inflicted on the land. Sadik was so connected with his people that even if it were something stupid like his entire nation falling into a saddened state because they lost an international football match he would feel it.

Turkey was not a nation that forgets a good deed and especially one done by a supposed enemy. Greece, from what he could see, had gone out of his way to come help him; the man who had supposedly ruined his life by ruling over his lands for many many years. Sadik hated to admit this but he didn’t blame the Greek completely for wanting his independence. He understood but at the same time he didn’t want to understand. At the time, not only had he been growing week but he still clung onto a lot of his old ways and he couldn’t deny that he was a selfish man. Even today he can see that he still retains many of his Ottoman-like ways. Greece had been a treasure to him, one with many things to offer such as strategic points, rich history and also more control of the Mediterranean. He would have never let the other go unless he was forced too.

However, now, things were changing. It was evident or rather quite palpable in the Turkish air. Everyone had seen what the Greeks were doing for them. How they had reacted swiftly and seemed to forget about their anti-Turkish sentiments. This was something that no one seemed to wish on a nation but not only that but Sadik also saw that he was not alone in the world. There had always been a popular saying that the only person a Turk can trust is a Turk but at this very moment that was not at all the case. Sadik, once he had been shaken out of his shocked reverie, had seen that other nations did care. They were making an effort to help him and by doing this they were even making his own government look bad. He could tell that this event would change things in his lands forever.

Sadik was pulled out of his train of thought when he was placed onto the bed and quickly mothered over by the Greek. He watched in silent fascination as Herakles seemed to do his best in taking care of him. His shoes came off, the pillows were placed to prop him up better and cold water was being patted against his skin to keep him cool. It was silent between them and he didn’t even bother saying a word. He just watched, keeping constant eye contact with the Greek. It still surprised him that the other was doing so much to help him. However, he couldn’t make him himself speak. It just felt wrong and especially at such an intimate moment such as this one. The silence between them seemed to speak much more than anything they would have actually said to each other.

Sadik hadn’t realized how hot his skin was until the coolness of the cloth seemed to heat up at a moderately alarming rate. Had he really neglected to take care of himself that much that his body was now beating him up for it. He let out a small gasp when the veins leading towards his heart constricted painfully. The suffocating feeling from before was coming back to him and he had to close his eyes and sink into the bed as he tried to calm himself. The pain would pass….it always did. It would come and go and really, he just needed to be patient until it reached that point where he could gain mobility in his body again.

Sadik hadn’t even realized that a glass of water had been placed beside his hand until the glass was brought to his lips by the Greek. He opened his eyes at this but didn’t bother disobeying as he slowly started drinking the water. Finding it a bit awkward that Herakles was helping him drink, he placed his hand over that of the Greeks and tilted it back a bit more until he finished the entire contents of the cup. He let his hand drop back onto the bed before he tiredly nodded.

The larger man sunk back into the bed and slowly let his eyes drift closed.“I owe you my life….brat…” He murmurs as he finally drifts into a much deserved sleep.

~~~~~

It was 3:04 in the morning and Sadik woke up in excruciating pain. It wasn’t because there was another earthquake but the memory seemed to be haunting not only him and his lands but his people as well and it didn’t help that the aftershocks were ravishing his lands. Some of them even being considered mini earthquakes of their own. He clutched at his chest painfully as his body tensed itself just as painfully. Sadik went to get up from the bed but only stumbled to the ground as he gasped for air. His hand formed into a tight fist as he pounded it painfully on the ground.

He needed to get outside.

Sadik didn’t even bother picking himself up as he crawled to the front of the tent like shelter before collapsing again, hurting. Fuck. It took him a good ten minutes before he was able to compose himself and slowly he picked himself up from the floor. He made his way to a makeshift chair and sat there, silently, hunched over. He had a lot to think about.

[greece]

The days had gone by with an uneventful flare; the Greek having been unbelievably stoic and serious about his duty as the Turk’s caretaker. He had held the Turkish man’s hand for the first time in what felt like two hundred years. Not prompted by the United Nations of NATO into doing so, but holding onto Sadik like something, someone precious that he did not want to lose in the hectic tragedy taking root around them. Something had blossomed between his people and Sadik’s, an understanding of loss and hesitant willingness to allow each other in again. The past was difficult to look over, but the Greek felt that no matter how much pride Sadik had for himself and his people—there was never any guarantee that their lives would go on forever. Longer then a humans, definitely, but Herakles was not ready to let Sadik suffer something that was out of his hands. If this had been a war, or some other means that it was the Turks fault—he might have not been so forgiving. But this was meaningless, helpless, and blind agony. Neither of them could have been prepared, and perhaps the time was right for Herakles to just let it go.

He just had to learn to let go; of everything—down to the repression he felt from the Turks when he (ironically) had been raised by the Ottoman Empire. Sadik had chosen the path that lead to their relationship’s demise, but he had made no motion to save it until now. Only now, when Sadik was faced with such a dilemma had he chosen to intervene. Perhaps because the safety net had been sprawled out before him, this silence and promise that Sadik would probably never bring up Herakles’ personal visit as well as his aid to the Turks. The moments that were silent between the screaming duo were those that spoke the most, specifically the ones he could remember off the top of his head. The day he had signed the written treaty that solidified his independence. This day that Sadik’s country had been rattled by a massive earthquake; both were significant in their own way. Each helped shape him into writing another chapter of his life, for better or worse. No matter the cost he made, it was how history worked; sometimes it was just luck. Even though Sadik’s losses weighed heavily on him, the silent connection was one of the strongest he had ever felt with any other nation.

Herakles left the bedside every once in a while to stretch his legs, refill the basin of cold water, and fetch more food and drink for Sadik to take whenever he awoke from his prolonged slumber. He passed the time by just watching, or lightly touching Sadik’s hand while he rested. The man gave no qualms when he was asleep, which helped his own mentality tranquil as his mind went over what he could do or say when the man awoke. He could take the easy way out, stay as long as Sadik needed him—and when the man decided enough was enough, Herakles would take his leave without any words exchanged. He didn’t exactly feel like building this to any more extreme then what it already was to the world. Turkey and Greece helping each other, and signing a treaty for their renewed friendship policy? It was unheard of, even through the older nations that had been active parts in their wars, disputes, and Greece’s independence. As the hours went by, he couldn’t help but agree to how groundbreaking this was for the both of them. The Turk before him was giving him enough freedom, but also showing gratitude for what he was doing for the better of his health.

It felt nice, taking care of the man that had reared him from a confused, muddled little thing. He’d not always hated Turkey, despite the claims he made during many councils and meetings with other nations. There was a time that Herakles didn’t know any better, and had latched onto Sadik very quickly after having lost his mother, Ancient Greece. While childhood wasn’t comfortable, it could have been a lot worse. Sadik could have truly hated him, truly destroyed him if he had seen it to be fit to his needs; and at that young of age, Herakles would have been unable to fight back. He might have perished, or worse. Admitting such weakness was one of the things that still tore at him. He watched the slow inhales of his prior guardian, his eyes narrowing as he got up to get himself another drink of water from the tap. No matter how much time went by between them, there was always that haunting past written in stone for him. So many things he could have done differently, so many suggestions he could have rubbed in the Turk’s face.

When he returned, the Greek almost dropped the glass in shock. The bed was empty, with the sheets strewn out on the floor as if someone had struggled through them in a blind scuffle. His eyes darted around, silently cursing as he thought of the places Sadik could have run off to. The first on his mind was the impact zone, it didn’t register that the elder nation could have gotten there with all of the aftershocks still happening within his lands. Only when Herakles turned his head to the side, did he notice the nation in a chair; deeply breathing and sifting through the internal, as well as external pains of having awoken to this travesty. ”You almost gave me a heart attack, Sadik.” He scolded without any venom apparent in his voice. Moving over to the man, and offering him the glass he had gotten for himself—obviously more inclined to take care of Sadik’s needs then his own still. ”Are you in pain still?” Herakles had not expected an instantaneous, miraculous recovery; but it still looked as if the ancient nation was struggling with a phenomenal amount of bodily agony.

”You should be lying down if this is hurting you,” Herakles began, voice remaining stern as his jade green eyes traveled over the man’s physique. He still looked so—fragile. So unlike the Sadik he knew. The Greek’s hand moved out, suddenly grasping over the tanner palm of the Turk’s; his eyes having remained on the man’s face. ”Come inside. You should tell me where it hurts so I can administer some sort of first aid.” It would do him better then just sitting out here, even if he didn’t want to agree.

”If you end up hurting yourself, and making this situation worse for yourself—I won’t forgive you. You know I won’t.” In truth, the Greek was just dancing around the issue—he didn’t want Sadik to hurt himself. He wanted the man to get better, even if it meant they went back to their old routine that was better then this.

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[theottomanempire]

Ruins: a product of what was and what could have been if it were to continue. The jotting, toppled over and overturned vehicles reminded him of the first time he had set foot on Troy. It filled him with sadness when he thought of how happy or at least normal the people of this area (and of Troy) were living their lives and then all of a sudden it was taken away from them. That happiness, all gone, there was nothing left but the bitter reminder of a life well lived. That was what he saw when he gazed out into the dark only seeing the silhouettes of crumbled buildings. However, in the case of Turkey today it wasn’t because they were overrun by Greeks but because Mother Nature had decided it was their turn to suffer. Their turn to lose everything but Sadik would admit that through the ashes arose a kindling fire that had all but been blown out more than a hundred years ago. For this the Turk could only be grateful for even if at the moment he couldn’t express his complete sincerity.

It may have been August and one of the hottest months in Turkey but at three in the morning he just felt cold. Sadik couldn’t say it wasn’t a nice breeze, a welcoming breeze because he knew that he was still feverish from being in the sun for that long. He actually wondered how long he would have been out there if Herakles hadn’t been there to intervene and take him away to a shelter. Would he still be there now? Mindlessly digging and digging until his body finally decides it’s had enough and he just collapses on the ground helplessly. Could he have actually done that to himself?! Yes, he could have because at this very moment he was itching to pick up another shovel and go back to digging. There was something in him screaming to go help the wounded and suffering. It was the selfless and irrational side of him screaming and urging him to go on, that he was perfectly fine and he was just being a baby.

His body trembled painfully at the feel of an aftershock or maybe even another earthquake…who knew anymore. Sadik may be pig-headed at times but he did know when to draw the line and right now he couldn’t listen to the urgings of that screaming voice. That voice knew nothing of what he was going through and would just bring him more destruction which was not what he needed. Herakles was his voice of reasoning. Without the Greek he would have easily been in worse shape and it was almost funny how the tables had turned over the years. If this had been back when he was an Empire he would only say that the Greek was the voice of irrationality. Every time the other came up he would do something reckless. However, now, there was nothing reckless about his actions. He was actually thinking clearly for once that day.


The Turks green eyes tiredly glanced over his shoulder when he heard Herakles scolding voice. His brow quirked up at the word heart attack before it arched back down into a concentrated frown. His body tensed, trembled lightly and relaxed as much as physically possible in his state. “Yeah….I feel like I got hit by a freight train.” He admits before looking back ahead of him. His eyes roaming over what he could and strained at what he couldn’t really see.


Sadik lets out a strange laugh. “Even if I were to lay down I’m sure the pain wouldn’t go away.” He says just as his palm is grasped by a lighter coloured hand. The Turk freezes for a second before letting his eyes roam over to glance at what just willingly occurred. There was no hostility and surprisingly he hadn’t pulled away yet except glanced up to stare at the Greeks face questioningly. Sadik tightened his grip on the hand and was surprisingly able to pull him forward and down so he was sitting beside him. “I don’t think your first aid can help where I’m hurting.” And, he was really liking the fresh air and peacefulness.


Turkey laughs lightly at Greece’s honesty and stubbornness on letting go of the issue. “I don’t think I can hurt myself more than I’m hurt now so don’t worry….I’ve been in worse situations then this….” Which was both true and false even though for some reason this felt much harder than what he had experienced before. It may have had something to do with the fact that it was currently happening and once it was over it would just be another catastrophic event he survived or because the times have changed and destructions like these should have been prevented with proper procedures.


“But look.” He says as he points shakily at everything in front of them. “Do you see all that?” Sadik glances at the Greek curiously before going on. “This is another scar added to the collection of other ones I have. This is also a place where people will wonder what would have happened if the earthquake didn’t devastate this area in such a way? A new ruin added to my lands and with it more questions and hypotheses. A sad reminder of how week a nation really is compared to external forces like those of Mother Nature.”

Sadik didn’t care if he wasn’t making much sense he just needed to speak and know that at least someone was listening. When he got like this he had a tendency of talking about something or nothing. It reminded him a lot of when he was converting from Empire to Republic and how insane he had gotten. It had been hard for him to process and Sadik had begun a prisoner of his own mind. However, whenever he did reach a certain level of trauma his logical thought when right out the window and most times it was never a pretty sight.

“You should go to sleep….its late.”

[greece]

Once upon a time he had believed Sadik to be his guardian and protector; a weakling child born from the fall of the Byzantine Empire, confused and alone. Once, and only once, did he remember fondly looking back. Remembering how soft and warm the arms of the Turk were, wrapped in soft linens and consoling him in Turkish. The words he had spoken always had some tone of truth to them, in tragedy that trait shined through; as the other male pulled him down to sit at his side, Herakles went through a sudden trance of déjà vu. Those darker hands moving to showcase the suffering painted on the canvas before them, the destruction they had both seen repeated in hundreds upon hundreds of years. But this was not one that he had forced upon Sadik, nor would have imagined he ever could. Mother Nature took no prisoners, and she didn’t weigh the difference between men and women; nor a swaddling child. There was survival, and Herakles knew that well enough, he had survived before and after Sadik. He would continue surviving to, no matter the cost; if he had to place down his sword for this—he could at least live with such an action.

”This is just like you,” he began slowly, trying not to offend the man as his heart suddenly stung within his chest. ”Trying to come off wise, old man, when you know there are things we’ve been through that no other nation could possibly understand. No matter what has happened here, I know you can get up again. You can fix this, but right now you would only get in the way—that’s why I brought you here.” Herakles’ couldn’t meet Sadik’s eyes, couldn’t even bring himself to look at those seeking orbs. He could feel the elder nation looking at him, trying to get his gaze—and he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t because he hated, or was supposed to hate Sadik; something within him was beginning to squeeze and tighten painfully. Making him short of breath, twisted and knotted enough for his hand to remove itself from Sadik’s and press directly into the pressure building in his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was his emotions, that ‘personal’ side of him that he had burned in front of Sadik the moment they took separate paths—or something more dangerous. For now, he took it as his emotions running amok, having been awakened by their governments fondly beginning to show acceptance towards one another.

”Age won’t make you immortal, it will only make you more brittle. Ruins are always a part of us, and a part of the past—but we build off of that foundation. I would not be here if that wasn’t true,” Herakles swallowed heavily, closing his eyes and pressing his hand to his temple. Suddenly, everything was throbbing. He hadn’t been resting properly when catering to Sadik, but that had been overwritten by his body the second his priorities came into the mix. He could push himself, he was far younger and able to sacrifice for Sadik’s health. With his conflictions mentally, however, it finally was coming clear how worn down he truly was. Taking care of the other man had grinded him down to the bare bone. His eyes felt heavier then before, and if anyone had known him before—would have understood that giving up slumber was one of the most un-Greek action he had ever done. His lips firmed up into a thin line, holding back the frown, the heavy ache in his chest over his heart. ”Don’t talk like you’re just going to vanish, this is not the end for you. Not right after what just happened, I’m here, that’s enough—isn’t it?”

Finally, after what seemed like the entire conversation, the Greek’s eyes finally met that of the Turkish man’s; those Jade orbs seeming so heavy and full of remorse for his fellow nation. Confusion, perhaps, was there as well—looming in the background muddled with suffocated feelings long ago dead and buried. He let out a sigh, exhaling heavily as he hunched forward and rested his arms on his legs. Gazing out again to where Sadik had motioned him to look earlier in the conversation. ”Scars fade over time, but sometimes pain stays forever. You think back on what you could have done; something better, something stronger. That’s poison, something you shouldn’t ever hold onto, Sadik. I thought you taught me that long ago, or maybe I taught myself—I don’t remember anymore. Maybe that’s a gift in itself.” Gazing over at the man once more, his eyes narrowed before he leaned over and lightly kissed the other man’s cheek. The pleasant feel of his scruff sliding over his firmed lips. It lingered, longer then normal; even if this was far from normal for the both of them. When the Greek parted away, his eyes had closed and his lower lip was still slightly separated from the upper. Comforting you doesn’t need any language, we both know that. I don’t need to tell you everything I am feeling for you to understand, it is just a waste of time on my part. I can live without you, but right now, I simply want to live with you. Scars might be scars, but I am here to keep that scar from forever haunting you when the physical pain passes.

[/i]

Silence came, and the Greek slowly rose with the last sentence. Sleep sounded well enough, but he made it clear that Sadik was not to return to the impact site and continue his self-destructive behavior. With once glance back, he glared sternly at the other man as if to say that he’d better not run off. ”I’ll take the couch, you should head to bed as well.” Sadik had slept a lot, but not enough, in his own opinion. Healing took time, more time then what the elder had given himself today. He slowly retreated inside the small room; touching his upper torso in surprise. The internal agony wasn’t as bad now, in fact—it felt soothed. I guess you aren’t the only one affected by this now. Being with you makes me feel like I’ve been hit by an earthquake.[/i] Little did he know the irony in that statement, as soon as he had passed the thought on; his hand touched a pillow to add onto the couch and suddenly his world was shaking. Not Sadik’s, but his. His world. His body. Gagging sound came from his throat as he struggled to breathe, the impact surged forward from his heart as if it were trying to escape his chest.

Athens.

Clenching down as hard as he could on his shirt, the younger nation felt the organ stop pumping for ten seconds; making his eyes blur and world tumble into darkness before it roared to life with uneven, wild pumps. His vision became muddled shapes, and he was met with the cold texture of hardened wood to his cheek as his breath began to come in short gasps. Holding at his ribcage with both hands, he could more or less feel his heart, his land, and his people rolling with the tremors of an earthquake. It was sudden, searing agony. He’d forgotten where he was, and who he was with—Sadik, though, was still on his mind. Nothing like this had ever happened to Athens before, and for some split seconds—Herkales thought he was dying.

I will never regret you.


Was the last thought that passed through his stream of conscious before his mind blanked and he passed out on the floor. But for some reason, it felt exactly right.


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[theottomanempire]

Herakles had always been the more logical one out of the two even when the boy was younger. His mother must have passed that on to him because the young Greek could spend days contemplating things that Sadik would never think about. He would never admit to this but he really admired that about Greece. It was a quality he was glad the other had developed even if it did piss him off on occasions. Right now, he didn’t seem to mind at all. It was refreshing especially after being alone in a manner of speaking. However, he could never understand why the other hand trouble looking in his eye when they weren’t arguing. This had not been the first time and he was sure it would not be the last. When they were fighting the younger man would stare at him unblinkingly but times like this….no. It was as if the other thought he would be able to see everything; all his secrets, desires and fears. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case because if it had been Sadik had a feeling he would have been able to fix a lot of things that had come between them.

At times, Sadik really did feel like he was going to vanish but he knew that an earthquake like this couldn’t actually kill him. If the end of the Ottoman Empire didn’t than this would be an easy recovery, right? Well, for some reason a part of him was just exhausted. He was tired of everything and the thought of vanishing for good was almost welcoming but then he would remember what he would leave behind and his flair for life would re-ignite. As he silently watched the Greek he could tell that not all was well with him. There was something bothering him and the Turk wanted to reach out and help but something was keeping him from doing so. He wasn`t sure if it was his pride or his current state but he just stayed put observing and listening.

That was when Greece finally met his gaze and Sadik could already tell what was tormenting the younger nation. His eyes were like mirrors. Mirrors that a person could see through to discover what they needed to discover at the time. Right now, he knew that the Greek was bothered and exhausted. When the other looked away Sadik let out a small sigh as he gently placed his hand on the others back, patting it a few times before pulling away. “I taught you a lot of things kid---“ He had been stopped mid-sentence as he felt soft lips meet his hot skin. Sadik couldn’t help his brows from shooting up in surprise as he gave the Greek a surprised side-ways glance. However, the look of surprised didn’t remain long as he seemed to understand even more what was going on in Herakles mind.

He didn’t make a motion to move nor did he react to show that he was pleased with what had just occurred he just remained there contemplatively. Greece was the only person that he would ever understand so thoroughly and the only person he hated and didn’t but would rather vanish then not have him in his life. Herakles had seen him at his worse and at his best and so new him in a much more intimate way than others did. The same went for the other and even knowing such things it was still comforting to know that the other was thinking about him even if they weren’t kind thoughts.

Sadik held the Greeks glare as he nodded at the mothering. “I’ll go back to bed in a bit…don’t worry.” He just needed a bit more time out in the fresh air before heading back in the stuffy room. The outside in general usually made him feel better and that was why he didn’t want to retreat inside just yet. He was scared that he would start feeling weaker again at the sight of all the medical supplies that were lying around the room. Sadik was so used to being strong and not needing anyone that this was a very foreign concept. It was nice but odd.

As time elapsed and nothing really was changing Sadik decided it was time to head back in and to what he came back into was not something he had been hoping to see. At first, he had just thought the Greek had fallen asleep on the floor which wasn’t completely abnormal since he had seen Herakles fall asleep in the most random of areas but the tenseness of his muscles and the look that was on his face told him a completely different story. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach that seemed to be growing as seconds ticked by. Why had he not followed the Greek in?! He should have been more perceptive…he should have realized that something like this could have happened. If it could happen to him in such short notice than hitting the Greek would have been next depending on how the earthquake reacted.


Sadik nearly ran towards the Greeks side as he kneeled beside him feeling for a pulse. He was still alive but it was obvious the other wasn’t doing well. FUCK. He should have just come in! The taller nation repositioned himself so that he could ease his arms under Herakles form and lift him up and against him before stopping to readjust the position once again. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. His heart was hurting and this time it wasn’t because of the earthquake that devastated his lands but because of what was going on in Greece and the fact that Herakles was here of all places.

Sadik ignored his protesting body as he lifted the other from the ground and held him close as if he were holding him back when the Greek had been a child. There was no time to think just to act and that was exactly what he was going to do. Upon placing the Greek on his bed he quickly removed the others shoes and anything else that may restrict or harm him if he were to move in any way in his sleep. The second thing he did was contact his government who had surprisingly reacted much quicker to this earthquake than that of their own. He was pleased and surprised that there was so much cooperation coming from his people. Then again, they had all been touched by what the Greeks did that the least they could do was return the favour especially in such an equally devastating moment.

When Sadik was pleased with the aid being sent to Greece he returned to the personified nation in his bed in hopes of returning the favour personally to the person who had looked out for him when he needed someone most. He had made sure to fetch everything the Greek would need if he were to wake up and set it on the bedside before pacing back and forth in front of the bed. He would stop and stare at the motionless Greek before starting up his made pace. That was when he noticed or rather could tell that the other wasn’t doing very well and filling the basin with cold water he sat on the chair next to the bed and soaked the cloth before pushing Herakles’ bangs back and resting it on his forehead. He leaned back against his chair and stared…worried. There had to be something else he could do to help? This couldn’t be it and that was when he remembered something.

Grabbing and carrying the basin of water to the night-like stand on the other side he took the towel off and soaked it back in the cold water. He wasn’t sure how the other would react to what he was about and especially if he were to wake up but he’d deal with it when the time came. Pushing the Greek over a bit he sat himself down and leaned back against the headboard before pulling Herakles back towards him and brushing his hair back to place the wet cloth back on his forehead. Sadik slowly began to run his fingers through the Greeks hair soothingly as he closed his eyes breathing in deeply.


“Nasıl oldu anlayamadım
Tanıştık
Birdenbire
Nedenini sorma boşyere”

He stopped for a second to readjust the position before going on.

“Yalnız yaşamak zor beklemek ondan da zor
Çektiklerim artık yeter gel benimle ol
Mantık irade kuvvet”

When Herakles had been younger Sadik would always whisper either his written work in the sleeping nations ear or that of his writers. However, he only did such things when he knew the other was sleeping and unaware. Just like now. But he found that the Greek seemed to wake up in a better or at least more relaxed mood the next day and even if it was naïve to think that such an old routine would work now it would at least comfort him until Herakles actually woke up to reassure him that he was alright.