Work Text:
Decisions making was always hard when you were a nation. It never benefitted all of what a nation represented. Civil war was a big red button decision which could only be pressed once, with consequences, even if one such as Ivan begged and wished with all his being he could travel back in time to undo the impossible.
The weight in his hands felt heavy as lead. But he knew he had to do this. Even if he didn’t want to, decisions made by his superiors were not to be ignored, even when he wished he could disappear and let someone else do what he had to do. Orders were orders after all, and nations could not, under any circumstances disobey an order, even if they tore him apart and put all the pieces in the wrong place, in their own twisted personal mold that he didn’t fit in. At least not yet.
His feet felt like concrete while he walked on them, through the front door and towards the basement door. He managed to stop his feet in front of it. “Hey you, move. Open that door and get on with it,” A voice behind him barked, making the personification nearly drop the item in his hands. He felt revolted by it, but he was not able to let it go or to throw it away and stop with what he was doing.
A part of him knew this was a good decision, but at the same time he felt that was a bad one. Ivan got prodded again. “We don’t have all night!” The one behind him spoke up once more, getting more impatient by the second Ivan stalled in front of the basement door. He let out a breath and locked his heart behind an iron gate before he opened the door and started walking down the stairs. Every footstep was as heavy as trekking through heavy mud and as loud as thunder in his ears.
He froze the moment he saw them there, waiting for something that never came, he felt bile rise in his throat and he swallowed it back down. “Please forgive me.” He mumbled soft enough that he barely heard it over his own heartbeat. His hands were trembling. The men who had followed him stepped into the basement as well. Ivan felt like he would never be forgiven for what he was going to do.“Please, please forgive me…” He mumbled again as he shakily raised the gun in his hands.
Decisions were hard to make, especially if it concerns yourself and what you stand for.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger, screams forevermore echoing in his head.