\\ALONE//-(RusAme AU)

Chapter 22

Russia POV
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Russia took small breaths, anything more would cause sharp pain in his ribs. He was still laying on his back, staring at the metal ceiling of the enclosure, he could only move his head and right arm, any other movement was pain.

He looked at his chest. His shirt was torn open, revealing deep, bloody claw marks. He grimaced. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off, and his whole body hurt like nothing he had ever felt before. And he thought that shitty zap was bad, this was actual hell.

His left arm was numb. He didn't feel it at all, and that's what scared him. He hadn't looked at it yet, couldn't bring himself to. But he had to now. He turned his head, and nearly vomited.

His arm was a mangled, bloody mess. It was shattered, bending in different angles. His flesh torn up viciously, his arm looked like it had been dipped in blood. But the worst part was his elbow. His bone had been broken, but it had stabbed through his elbow so it shone in the partial light, white stained red.

Russia looked away quickly, to quickly. The small movement made his hip scream with pain. He grimaced, cursing under his breath. But he wasn't angry. Anger took energy, and he had no energy.

He had a few times tried to call for help, but his ribs hurt to much. He realized that he was dying, he was gonna die here. He wished those things had just finished him off, but no.

He looked around at the bloody clearing. His blood. That was his blood painting the trees, ferns, and grass. Blood dripped off leaves like access rain. He thought about the others.

Weird...he wasn't supposed to care.

But you do.

Russia looked up again. He remembered, his dad. Everything about that day was so clear, those words.

" Live alone, die together."

Wait...something was wrong.

It felt like Russia's world was spinning, but it wasn't death. It was a memory, something he hadn't remembered. Something he couldn't remember. Something he should remember.

Then it clicked.

...

" Papa," said little Russia," What's wrong?"

" Nothing Russia," said Ussr, picking him up," I just wanted to tell you something."

" What papa," said Russia.

" If I die," said Ussr," Remember these words."

" If you live alone Russia, you'll live," said Ussr, looking at the moon," But if you live together, you'll thrive."

...

That's what Ussr meant to say. He misspoke, mixed his words in death. He had been trying to repeat his saying to Russia while trying to say he was dying, but he mixed his words.

" How could I be so stupid," muttered Russia," What have I done?"

Russia had fallen victim to this cruel world and its sick ways, but he wasn't innocent. He had hurt people. He hurt America. He hurt...

Himself.

He hurt himself.

What had he done...

He was right to care, he had been right but he made a mess of it all. What had he done? Oh no. South Korea...

He would never get to say sorry.

He would never tell America....never say those unspoken words.

He knew what he had to say.

He knew what would make him be able to die in piece.

He looked up and smiled, tears filled his eyes, and he spoke.

" I forgive you."

The humming sound filled his ears and his vision started to blur. He still smiled though as he watched his blood drain from his body. He had forgiven himself, and now he would do what he set out to do.

Die alone.

He was about to close his eyes when he heard voices, faint voices, but still voices.

" I think we're almost there."

" I hope so. My feet are about to fall off."

" I can't wait for this collar to come off."

" You and me both."

It's them! The others! But their to his right, they won't be able to see him. He had to make them know he was here. But he couldn't yell, the pain...it's death or pain.

He gritted his teeth.

He opened his mouth.

And started screaming.