Handling a Crisis

Chapter Sixty-Four: Getting To Know You

I'd like to apologize ahead of time for what I'm about to do. You're all going to be very mad at me.

This is also half beta-read, so sorry if there's mistakes 😅

Chapter warnings: Schutzstaffel, kidnapping, talk of World War II, mention of the Holocaust, mention of death threats, talk of beheading, talk of death, talk of kinks, talk of death, past decapitation, brief mention of ableism, antisemitism

He, his four brothers, and everyone they knew were in danger...

America stood at his bathroom sink, hands on the counter. He stared at his reflection. Fracture cracks had etched themselves all along his torso and spread out to his shoulder and back, making him look like a broken porcelain doll. His face had been replaced by that infernal eagle symbol.

America took his hand off of the counter, opened a drawer, and took out a pair of scissors. He studied its long metal blades and side-glanced at the door.

Wait, what the fuck am I doing? he thought. Put those down, me!

Before he could further chastise himself, he felt his face cool and slowly turn back into his flag. When it fully reverted, America hastily shoved the scissors back into the drawer and shut it, holding his hands against it, shaking like a leaf in the wind. What was he going to do with those? Why couldn't he control himself?

He took a few deep breaths, and when he felt ready to, he took his hands off the drawer. America didn't reach for the scissors again, so that was a good sign. Shutting his eyes, America turned on the water and splashed his face with cold water. He dried his face off, turned off the lights, and left the bathroom. Russia was still asleep, so America crawled under the covers and cuddled up to him.

Just as America was lulled to sleep once again, Russia stirred. He blinked blearily and looked down at America. The other country had taken his shirt off, something that wasn't true when they'd fallen asleep last night. Russia concluded that America had awoken sometime earlier and took his shirt off. What for? He didn't know.

Russia studied America's face. There were dark bruises under his eyes, showing off how exhausted he was. Russia pulled America in closer, rubbing his back. He felt bad for not being able to help. So far, there was no protocol for helping countryhumans who were in the process of fracturing.

America made a noise in his sleep and buried his face into Russia's chest, his breaths growing heavy as he pressed himself into Russia more. Russia stopped rubbing his back, remembering that America had once said it felt weird when people rubbed into his fractures. He didn't want to accidentally wake America up by making him feel weird.

There was a quiet knock on the door. Russia looked at it and asked, "Vho is it?"

"It's Alaska," the knocker said. "We're making breakfast downstairs. It should be done in about an hour."

"Спасибо сын. (Thanks, son.)"

"Yeah, no problem, Папа." There was a moment of silence. "Hey, Папа, how's Отец feeling? I know this was a very sudden decision for him to bring everyone here."

"He's asleep rrright now, but I'll ask vhen he vakes up."

"Oh, okay. Got it. I'll see you downstairs."

Russia listened to Alaska's footsteps recede and sighed. America's kids were good people, and he was happy that he didn't have to keep hiding it; he just wished this was all happening in better circumstances.

"Wonder what we're having for breakfast."

Russia looked down at America, surprised. "You'rrre awake?" he asked.