America's P.O.V
"Alright, Goodnight, kiddos. I'll see you in the morning."
I gently kissed each of my girls' foreheads. They all smiled, and I saw their eyes fall closed. I turned to the door, flicked off the light, and whispered, "I love you,"
"We love you too." They chanted back to me. I grinned, went out of the room, and closed the door behind me.
My feet carried me over to my boyfriend's room. My hand wrapped around the knob, and I slid the door open. Our room was dark, for all of the lights were snuffed out. I figured that he already fell asleep.
As I walked over to him, somber feelings corroded my brain. He was under a lot of stress, we all were really, but not as much as he was. Preparing for an ambush was no easy feat. And, on top of that, he was dealing with requests to go back to his country, so that officials could monitor his health.
It was all just overwhelming for Russia.
The lamp next to my bed turned on after lunch hand pulled down on the metal string. I carefully laid next to my lover under the blankets and wrapped an arm around him, so that my hand rested on top of his chest. I could feel the soft beats of his heart press up against my palm.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The beat soothed my worries. He isn't gone now, and he never will be; I'll make sure of it. I wouldn't let death yank him to the violent afterlife.
My lips gradually made it up Russia's neck, onto his jaw, and finally ended up by his cheek. That would've been where I ended things, but my partner had different plans.
I felt hand on my head bring me closer, while I saw his head turn. He kissed me. It was slow, but sweet; evidence of exhaustion waned in on the both of us.
Once we both pulled back, my forehead pressed against his, and a smile befell my lips. The Russian pulled me closer to him, and my wing stretched under his arm, so that it could swirl around on his back.
"Not even a hello?" Russia teased, as a smirk cracked across his face.
I rolled my eyes playfully, "Nope, you don't get one." I tried to keep a straight face, but my facade broke away once my partner raised one of his eyebrows up. After my fit of giggles subsided, I replied. "Okay, okay...Hello, how have you been?"
He grinned with satisfaction, yet I could see something linger behind his sky-like eyes, "I'm better now that you're here."
"Is everything alright?" I questioned, as I pried myself off of him and sat down. My legs crossed over one another and my gaze softened.
He nodded, shifted onto his knees, and pecked the space between my eyes, "I'm fine, love. Just a bit tired from this whole war situation."
"I bet...it isn't exactly easy to deal with war." I comforted. I grabbed his hand and hoisted it up to my cheek, while I leaned myself on it. "But you're doing a great job. You're level-headed, you have seen the warning signs, and you're doing something about it."
A humble smile tugged at Russia's lips, "Thank you..."
His thumb ran across my cheek for a while, until he crashed back down on his spine and brought me tumbling with him. I landed on his chest with a small grunt, "Why'd you do that?"
"Just 'cause." He shrugged, though his toothy grin told me a different story. "Now sleep."
I shook my head a bit and sighed, though the smile on my lips never left. My skin prickled, as I felt my lover's hands trace along my back. Whenever his hands left me, a chilling sensation replaced each of his fingers.
My hand reached over, tugged in the cord to our bedside lamp, and we were both plunged into a relentless darkness.
The brain inside of my skull became infested with memories of pain. Whips, beatings, and bullets collided with my skin, and I swore that it all felt the same as when I was there.
Stinging lashes battered me, while I kept telling myself to snap out of it. I knew everything was fake now, yet my mind fought against me. It seemed so real, like an illusion of sorts.
At each and every turn, a new, but familiar feeling dissolved my body into nothing but a walking cluster of bruises, skid marks, and incisions.
And, just as quickly as it had started, my eyes snapped open to the light of the sun peeking through the window in my room.
I noted that my breathing was much faster than usual. By this point in the morning it would have been all over the place with no rhythm in sight. And, it was, but it was never like this.
I wondered what had been different about last night, but it didn't take long for me to find one difference.
For when I really scanned the area around me, I couldn't find Russia.
Before my breathing could worsen, I took a few deep breaths and composed my thoughts. It took months for me to die, he wouldn't die in one day even if someone deliberately stabbed him. Besides, there were too many people around to even consider doing anything as absurd as that.
"He's downstairs, America. Calm yourself down. You're overreacting." I told myself. My voice was a bit shaky, but it was easier to listen to myself say it rather than my unreliable thoughts.
My feet lifted me out of the blankets that were tucked around me. I reached my arms up, as my wings flexed away from my back. Judging from the sun's place in the sky, it was fairly early in the morning, so I doubted that my states would be up.
I sauntered out of the room and made my way down the set of stairs. Exactly as I predicted, he was downstairs, but in the kitchen. I was puzzled for a moment, until I noticed that the housekeepers weren't downstairs yet.
Aww, he's making breakfast.
I skipped over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. My head rested near his and I placed a single kiss on the nape of his neck.
"Good morning." He hummed, with a small chuckle echoing behind his words. He tapped an egg against the mixing bowl in front of him and I watched as the shell cracked in two uneven pieces.
"Thanks for making breakfast, what'cha making?" I asked, as he started to mix together the mixture of ingredients.
He stopped, tapped his whisk on the side of the bowl a few times, and then turned around. I felt his lips press up against my forehead, before he moved me out of the way and went over to one of the nearby drawers, where he pulled out a pan, "Just some blueberry muffins. Do you like them?"
I hastily pulled my finger out of the light beige batter, as my cheeks burned with the embarrassment of being caught, "I, um, uh, I-"
"It's okay." Russia laughed, while he stood up and walked over to me. He set the tray down, and grabbed some paper coverings from a separate cabinet. "You can have some, just make sure to use a spoon this time."
However, before I could even think about grabbing the aforementioned silverware, the stairs creaked, and my head instantly flicked towards them.
"'Morning, bro! How'd you sleep?" I questioned, while I traveled over to my tired-looking brother.
His face brightened, when he saw me, "Good morning, America. I slept pretty well, except for when you two started babbling away at, what was it? Twelve in the morning."
Canada's unamused face made me subconsciously look down, "Sorry about that, I put the kids pretty late to bed last night..."
"Yeah, no kidding." There wasn't any judgment in his voice, if anything, it was a bit humorous. He pranced over to the counter, took a seat in one of the stools, and crossed his arms on the granite surface. "Hey, Russia, could you grab me a glass of water? Anyways, how did you sleep?"
Russia nodded, and handed him a glass that was filled. Over the last month, especially since Hawaii's been here with us, Canada has eased up on my boyfriend. I knew how protective the red and white country got, so I was really happy to see that he and my lover were finally getting along.
I waddled my head from side to side and went over to one of the other seats, "Same as always, went back there again."
Understanding meshed together with sorrow made its way onto my brother's features, "Oh, okay...how about you?" He gestured over to Russia, who was just about to stick the muffins into the oven.
As the time was set, the white, blue, and red country looked at my brother, "Good, it went by in the blink of an eye like always."
Chatter and banter bounced between the three of us for a couple of minutes, before the stairs sounded off again. This time they held two people, both staggered, as they took tiny steps down. They seemed so tired, as if all of their energy had been sucked out of them, yet they had to remain awake.
"Hey, Poland, Germany." My brother greeted, while the other two glanced over at us and then to each other.
Germany gave his partner a curt nod, as Poland started to speak, "We need to talk. Meet us in the living room."
With that, they walked off.
I was certainly confused. I eyed the people around me to see if they had any idea of what was going on, but they were doing the same thing. Regardless of what was happening, the three of us followed after the pair.
Germany and Poland sat down on the couch, and I noticed that the former hid behind the ladder's wing. I furrowed my brows, that was unusual. Canada took the seat in the final chair, while Russia and I remained on the floor.
The white and red man breathed in and out, before he started, "Well...shit I don't know how to say this without sounding utterly heartless..."
"It's okay, take your time." I comforted him. Russia's arm looped around me, and I leaned into his hold.
"Um, well, Niemcy and I were up all night talking..." He sighed. "And we've realized that we can't go on like this. We're both suffering from stress, and his other personality is acting up again."
Canada's hand flew over his mouth in shock, "East?! Are you okay, Germany? Do you feel any different?"
I saw the person in question nod his head, "Yeah, I'm fine, and my land isn't divided. He's just been a bit hard to handle."
We all nodded in understanding. Most countries who were close to Germany knew about his personality disorder, however it was always a bit of a sore topic for the German. Thus, no one really mentioned it unless he started the conversation.
"But it's been a long time since we've had any peace of mind, and that is partially due to us letting you stay here. Now, by no means did you do it on purpose, but we are feeling used in our own home, and I think that that's really unfair to us, and to you as well." Poland further explained, as he glanced down every-so-often. "If we could let you stay here with us, we would. Hell, that's the reason this house is built for more than just the two of us. We want people to feel welcome here. Yet, that isn't an option. Not anymore at least..."
"I'm sorry for making you feel like that," Faults weighed down my shoulders and my words were heavy on my tongue. "But where will we go? I can't exactly go back home because of you-know-who. Canada can, and Russia...well I guess you would be going to your government for the upcoming battle, wouldn't you?"
He bit his lip and scratched the back of your neck, "Yeah, I guess..."
A frown made its way onto my face. He would be all on his own, just surrounded by IVs and heart monitors.
The thought terrified me.
"Okay, girls. Say goodbye to Germany and Poland."
It was now evening, approximately six weeks after my revival, and I was about to separate from my states yet again.
I grabbed my brother's shoulders, and forced him to look me in my eyes, "Take good care of them, m'kay bro?"
He nodded, as he pulled me into a hug, "I will, and we'll get the rest of your kids away from that maniac."
A sad smile made its way onto my face, "Okay." I knelt down and pulled my youngest into a hug. Tears stained her cheeks, while she hugged me.
"Don't leave me again, Papi!" She whimpered, as she clutched her stuffed sheep behind my back.
"I'll be back before you know it, Hawaii." I murmured, then I let her go.
Massachusetts was there with her arms outstretched, and I gladly pulled her into another embrace. She was also crying, though it wasn't as bad as her little sister, "Promise you'll be okay this time, dad...please."
"I promise." I pecked her forehead, and moved onto my oldest. Delaware was a lot more contained compared to her sisters, but salty traces of water still rolled down her cheeks.
She grabbed onto me, as if I was her life line, "I'm gonna miss you, dad. Stay safe."
"I will and I'll miss you too; all of you."
"Are you ready to go, America?" Russia asked me, as I watched the car that dropped us off at the airport drive off.
I nodded, but he didn't budge, "Are you sure? You're still crying."
My hand moved up to wipe away my teary eyes. I looked back at my states. This time, I shook my head. I quickly rushed back over to them and gave them all one last hug.
"I love you all."
"We love you too, dad."
"I love you too, Papi!"
I will go back to them.
I promise.
Word count 2387
End of Act 2: Consequences.
Start of Act 3: War.
My apologies for the lack of a chapter on Thursday. I had a performance I was doing and the practices were five hours long outside.
Anyways, questions!
Where did Mexico go?
Will America keep his promise?
And, for my LoM readers, do you remember the scars on Germany's hands? Well, would you be surprised if those scars were the symbols on the flags of west and east Germany?
Also, here's the art that was requested last chapter.
Have a great day/night/morning/evening/noon/midnight/any time!
-Amaura
(P.S My show got rained on, but the show went on and it went on fabulously!)