Behind The Hero's Mask

Seven

(This is mostly going to be a phone conversation)
(TW: blood)

Allen sat in America's house, petting Nasa as he thought. He wondered where the nation and his bodyguards were. It had been a day, and they still hadn't returned. He heard a knock at the door and walked over. He opened it to see Matthew, Francis, and Arthur.

They let themselves in, not really paying attention to the American counterpart. "What are you-"

"Ivan kidnapped Alfred, " Allen went rigid.

"How?"

"Alfred looked like he was hurt, and Ivan seems to have taken advantage of that." Canada clarified, "He says he'll give him back after he 'takes care' of him"

"Whatever that means" England scowled, he sped to the kitchen and began making some tea. France called Alfred one more time just to check.

//////

His phone ringing woke him up. He laid there for a second, not really knowing what was going on, then it clicked. He sat up and picked up the phone. He had missed a bunch of calls. The latest one was France. He decided to call him back.

He immediately picked up the phone and asked if Alfred was okay. "Yeah, I'm fine dude." He said unenthusiastically, still drowsy. "Did he do anything to you? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm-"

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING YOU GIT?!" America heard Britan shout. He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear. "What?"

"You could have shouted for help! Done something to tell us where you were!"

"I..." He trailed off, noticing Ivan listening in. "Um..."

"Alfred?" Canada...

"Yes?"

"Is Ivan in the room with you?"
...

"Yes"

"What is he doing?"

Alfred looked over at the Russian, who tilted his head curiously at him. He blushed slightly. "N-nothing. Just... Watching" he stuttered

"Are-"

"I...I'm gonna go. Bye, love you bro"

"Wait no-"

America hung up, looking over to the Russian. "What was that about?" He asked, sitting down on the chair across from him. "The others called me and asked if I was okay." Ivan's eyes dimmed and he looked down. Alfred felt bad for him. He was really a nice person, but his looks and history scare everyone away before he can show them who he really is. He reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly.

He met America's eyes and smiled, enveloping his hands in his. Alfred blushed, "Thanks, Fredka." He said gratefully. "No problem Ivan" The pair chatted until lunch.

"So Amerika, what do you want for lunch?" He asked, getting up and walking towards the kitchen. His stomach complained but he stayed silent. "Fredka?" Ivan turned around. The American looked away, unsure of how he would explain this. He bit his lip nervously, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm not hungry, sorry Russia" Ivan frowned, staring at the normally bubbly nation with suspicion. "But your stomach just growled." He said, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm just not in the mood to eat, that's all." Alfred lied, smiling at Ivan to try and trick him. The Russian slowly nodded, seeming to buy it. Alfred felt bad for lying, but it was better this way...

Right?

//////

"Why did he hang up?" Allen asked, taking a step towards the Canadian. Matthew was scared for his brother now. He never said 'love you' at the end of his calls, or, never in that tone. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Is he...No. He isn't...he won't.

"Canada!" He jumped, looking at England. He felt pain in his right hand and looked to see crimson pouring out. He had crushed the phone and the glass had cut him. He muttered a curse under his breath, clenching his jaw tightly.

I swear if that commie hurts my brother...I will kill him myself.

//////

Alfred had gotten used to being in Ivan's house and had honestly been feeling more positive. Since nobody was ever really here but him and Ivan, he hadn't been called anything in a while. Usually, he would have been insulted every two hours or so. But with Ivan, nope. Not a solitary word of ridicule was uttered.

He could get accustomed to this. He suddenly blushed furiously. What?? Stay in Russia, with Ivan? No! We're supposed to be enemies!... But, now...aren't we friends? He thought, should...should I ask him? He turned to the stairs leading up to the second floor. He shook his head to himself, No. I won't bother him right now. I'll ask tomorrow.

He made his way to the couch and laid down, staring up at the ceiling. He sat there for ages, trying to drift off. After an hour, he sat up, grabbed his crutches and headed upstairs. He felt a little embarrassed to be asking Ivan this, but what else could he do?

He didn't have his sleeping pills.

Alfred opened the door into Ivan's room, seeing him lying in his bed, sound asleep. Would he mind if I just...he got into the bed, setting his crutches down and against the wall. He carefully got under the covers, making sure not to wake Ivan.

He only laid there for a couple of minutes listening to the Russian's breathing, before his eyes became heavy and his heart rate slowed. He slipped right into a peaceful slumber, unaware that Ivan was, in fact, awake, and smiling softly to himself.

-The next morning-

Alfred was surrounded by warmth, a calm and comforting heat. He felt it encircling him, keeping him safe from all harm. He opened his eyes, the room coming into focus. He felt breathing and heartbeat that wasn't his own. He looked to see Ivan, holding him close and smiling.

The American blushed and tried to wiggle his way out, but the Russian was so goddamn strong. He gave up and stayed there, listening to his heartbeat until he noticed something. Both of their hearts...were beating in sync. He blushed slightly, resting his head on Ivan's chest to make sure. Sure enough, the two were in sync.

He closed his eyes slightly, finding himself nestling closer to the Russian. He just felt so secure in his arms. It was odd, but for some reason, it felt right. He smiled, feeling truly delighted for the first time in a while.

//////

Canada felt cold, surrounded by darkness. He looked around, seeing nothing. He walked in a random direction, trying to find any distinguishing feature. Then, a drop of red. And another, each getting bigger the farther he went. Then, there he was. Alfred, on the ground, choking on his own blood. Matthew ran to him, dropping down to check if he had a pulse.

It was weak, but still there. "Alfred! Al, are you alright?" He screamed, but nothing came out. He felt tears roll down his face. Then, he noticed a pair of feet standing in front of him. He looked up to see Ivan with a terrifying and unnatural smile. "I told you I would take care of him."

Matthew shot upward, startling the sleep-deprived Arthur. "Bloody hell- Canada? What's wrong?"

"We need to get America back and soon."