Handling a Crisis

Chapter Forty-Two: Chase and Recovery

Chapter warning: panic attack, shooting, talk of burn injury, gassing deaths

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Now we can resume.

Russia parked the car outside the burning house and he and America got out. America looked at the scene in front of him, horrified by what he was seeing. He covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh my God," he squeaked, tears trickling down his face.

"Н-нет, zis– zis kan't be..." Russia denied, feeling at a loss for words. What he was seeing wasn't real. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But sadly, it was. He could see it happening right in front of him. America's house was up in flames.

Russia's thoughts were interrupted by rapid breathing. He looked at America, who was starting to hyperventilate. Redirecting his attention to his friend, Russia stepped in front of him, bending a little so he could be close to America's eye level. "Hey, hey," he said soothingly. "Merrrik, kan you hearrr me?"

America gave a shaky nod. "Mh– m-hm" was all he could respond with.

"Alrrright, zat's good. Do you zink you kan follow me?" Another nod. "Alrrright. Brrreath in forrr fourrr sekonds." America followed that. "Hold it in forrr seven sekonds." America tried following that, but couldn't hold his breath past four seconds.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm so– I'm sorry!" he gasped.

"Zat's alrrright, zat's alrrright. Ve'll trrry again, okay?"

"I c– I ca– I can't–! I can't do it! I'm sorry! 'M sorry!"

"Да, you kan do zis. Ve'll trrry again, okay? Ve kan keep trrrying again, no vorrries." Russia held out his hand. "Kan you give me your hand?" America shakily put his hand in Russia's. Russia gently rubbed his thumb over America's knuckles. "Alrrright, ve'rrre going to trrry zis again. Brrreathe in forrr fourrr sekonds." America was able to do that. "Hold forrr seven sekonds." This time, America was able to follow through. "Brrreathe out forrr eight sekonds." America obeyed. "Zat's good, zat's good. You'rrre doing so vell, Merrrik. Let's do it again, okay?"

Russia repeated the instructions several times. A few minutes later, America had stopped hyperventilating and was instead taking shaky breaths. A good improvement, all things considered. Russia straightened, let go of America's hand, and held out his arms. America immediately moved into them, hugging Russia tightly. Russia returned the gesture, but didn't squeeze as hard as America. He rubbed the smaller country's back in an attempt to soothe him.

"I c-can't believe this h-hap-happened," America stuttered. "I– I can't– can't believe this."

"Neizerrr kan I," Russia agreed.

"S-so many people are– are mad at m-me. Th-they hate me. They wa-want me to– to suffer for what my cou– my country has done. Ev-ev-everything they did is ca-catching up to me."

Russia felt America's words tug at his heartstrings. "Нет, Amerrrika, rrrememberrr vhat ve said. You don't have kontrrrol over vhat's going on. You don't deserrrve any of zis..." His voice trailed off when he heard something move in the woods. Now on-guard, Russia concentrated on the sounds around him– the crackling of the fire, the branches of the trees swaying in the wind and hitting each other, the crunch of leaves...

A gun being loaded.

Not wanting to send America into another panic, Russia suggested softly for only America to hear, "How about I take you to my place? You kan kalm down and prrrocess everrryzing zerrre and ve kan figurrre out vhat to do next."