Handling a Crisis

Chapter Eight: Trying to Hang Out

Hey y'all! Please comment things I can improve on, and check the bottom for translations, along with an AN. Enjoy the chapter!

It was the next day. America and NATO were forced to leave the states, territories, DC, and NASA at home since they had a meeting to attend to. They didn't want to go out of fear that more of America's kids would pass out without an explanation, but it was their duty to attend the meeting.

Upon arriving at the building, America and NATO made their way over to the conference room, where they saw ASEAN, EU, UN, WHO, Britain, France, Canada, Soveit Union and his family, Third Reich, and Germany.

NATO turned to America. "I have to talk to ASEAN, EU, UN, and WHO," he muttered to America. "You gonna be okay?"

America nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," he assured him quietly.

NATO gave him a tiny, reassuring grin before walking away. "I'll see you later, Ame."

"Yeah, I'll see you later."

America walked over to his seat, sat down, and checked his phone. So far, there were no missed calls or new texts, which could be good. However, that could also mean that all of his kids were passed out and nobody was able to get into contact with him, meaning that they could potentially be serious danger and America wasn't able to help them all because he had to attend a stupid meeting—

"Привет, Америка," a familiar voice greeted him.

Startled, America jumped in his seat. His head snapped up and saw a smirking Russia looking down at him. Rolling his eyes, America asked, "Have you made it your personal goal to give me a heart attack?"

Russia laughed. "Нет, but now zat you say it, zat's not such a bad idea."

America gasped dramatically and pouted. "You're so mean to me. I thought we were friends!"

"Смирись с этим."

"Oh, I'll deal with it. I'll deal with it by getting you to take back what you said."

"Ha! Good luck vith zat, су—" Russia cut himself off when the doors opened, revealing a fatigued Spain and an equally exhausted-looking Italy. "Ебена мать."

"What?" America turned around and saw Spain and Italy walk to their seats. "Oh my God, they're back."

"Да, zey'rrre back." Russia then remembered something. "Hey, Amerrrika, yourrr kountrrry has morrre cases than everrrybody else's, да?"

America was caught off-guard by the question, but quickly recovered and nodded. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Vhy arrren't you as bad as Испания и Италия?"

America shrugged. "I don't know. Guess I'm just lucky."

What he didn't say was that he was secretly very fatigued and felt like death. No, actually, he felt like death had personally come up to him and beat the living shit out of him. America didn't look like it because he felt that it would ruin the image he created for himself, which would raise a lot of questions America didn't want to answer. Knowing some countries would do anything to get an answer, which could lead to the discovery and exposure of his kids, America figured that the best course of action for him to take was to keep his condition under wraps.

Russia nodded. He didn't believe a word America said, but he knew he wasn't gonna get an answer. So, he kept making small-talk with America until the meeting started. When it did, he went back to his seat and turned his attention toward UN.