America blinked himself awake. He shivered, he was cold. As he tried sitting up, he felt his bones creak, which was probably not a good sign. He looked down to his arms and torso, his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed there were bandages covering them.
He quickly looked around - he was beside a large, open lake, no river connecting to it. Forest surrounded him. Be couldn't hear the waterfall, nor the river, in that case.
Behind him was a small log cabin, he was confused. He probably died. He was in a better place... Right?
America heard a thud next to him. He jumped and turned around, a country he didn't recognise sat beside him.
"You are awake," They pointed out, a bottle of alcohol in their hand, "You could have taken a better route to walk down the cliff instead of jumping off of it. Bravo."
"Am I dead?" America trembled. The other found that hysterical, "I mean it! Where am I?"
America tried standing up, but hissed in pain, sitting back down.
"Of course not," They chuckled, "But you are miles away from that waterfall. You will not make it home easily."
"W-who are you?" America stuttered, shivering. The other took their time to respond, taking a sip from their alcohol.
"Russia," He replied. America had heard that name somewhere before - in a report. A missing report. It all came back to America now; he had seen Russia's name in a missing report. But he was here? Alive?
"You were m-missing?" America shuffled away from Russia, he didn't seem to mind it though. Russia blinked lazily.
"Ah, so you have just noticed," Russia smirked. He intimidated America, to say the least. "Yes, I have been missing for two years. I have been watching from the sidelines. You, are very interesting-"
"Stop scaring him, Russ," A feminine voice grumbled, "And you have not been watching him, you wannabe stalker."
"Shut up," Russia growled, standing up and backing away. A green, red and white country came and sat beside America, grinning, she seemed friendly.
"Belarus," She chirped, sticking her hand out for America to shake. He did so, a little less afraid.
"America," He said back to her. He wasn't sure if they knew he was the leader of the FA or not, but he didn't want to say anything. "So are you guys like... The third party?"
"God damn you, Ukraine.." Belarus cursed beneath her breath, repositioning her red scarf, "I guess you can call us that. Let me guess, Ukraine blew our cover?"
"Ukraine?" America asked with a hint of curiousity in his voice, "I've heard her name before, but... Is she like, did she near one of the FA camps?"
"Yes.." Belarus trailed off, "She was chasing a goddamn boar. 'Oh yeah, we can have boar for dinner,' she said, 'I've just got to try and catch it,' she said."
"She did mention that she bumped into my brother Canada, right?" America questioned, Belarus shrugged.
"Maple leaf on his face?" She pointed to her own face, "Reddish borders?"
America was almost excited and nodded with enthusiasm. Belarus smirked.
"So that's Canada then.." Belarus mentally noted that down, "So you're his brother? You're like.. the brother of the FA leader. Good to know.."
Crap. America punched himself in the face mentally, he couldn't just turn around and say, 'Nah, I'm the FA leader'. What would they think of him?
"So like, are you against the current sides?" America turned to face Belarus, "Like, the Restoration and the FA?"
"Oh yeah, there's a reason we all ran away," Belarus explained, "There aren't innocents. Innocents get killed. And those FA camps are really crowded. We're afraid the Restoration will storm through, we'd be easy targets."
America hummed, he kept being the FA leader to himself. He'd take it as feedback for now.
"This isn't related to the subject, but are you, Russia, and Ukraine siblings?" America wondered, "Or am I wrong?"
Belarus hesitated, "We're not really family, but we see eachother like that. We're not siblings, no."
America nodded, silence bleeding out. There was a growl from behind, making America spin around - Russia sat on the deck of the log cabin, the alcohol in one hand, and a bear sitting beside him.
"Is that.. a bear?" America asked with disbelief.
"No, is vodka," Russia responded, holding the bottle up, "That is big fluffy forest puppy."
America just blinked behind his cracked glasses. That Russia guy was weird, to say the least. He turned back slowly, confused.
"Russia, why is Misha here?" Belarus threw her hands up, annoyed, "Misha should be hunting!"
"If America is staying, he has to get used to her," Russia grumbled, unjoking, "Misha is a valued member of the family."
Belarus scoffed, America just stared out to the lake. Then, Belarus stood, stretching.
"I'm going to do my jobs," She huffed, "Harvest will be tomorrow, I need to water the potatoes."
America stayed sitting there as Belarus disappeared behind the log cabin, he didn't move.
"America," Russia called. America turned around, half facing Russia, "Sit here."
Russia seemed demanding. There was no doubt that he probably ruled the household.
America barely had a choice and he tried standing up, hissing as he shakily walked to the deck Russia sat on. Russia was scratching Misha behind the ear, America didn't dare to near the bear.
"So what did you do in the FA camps?" Russia asked with curiousity, staring out to the lake. America panicked, trying to gather himself.
"I, uh, let me think.." America paused, "I didn't do much, really. I had two friends, one was five, the other fifteen, they lost their dad to the Restoration. Every night we'd have a bonfire, we'd talk with one another, and during the day, we wouldn't do much."
America lied, but Russia took it. America was out rescuing countries most days, in fact, he barely stayed at the camps.
"How old are you?" Russia asked. America sighed as he rested his head on his hand.
"Turning twenty-five this year," He hesitated, he forgot when he last celebrated his birthday. Russia nodded.
"I am four years older than you then," He acknowledged. America grinned. "Belarus is turning nineteen this year, and Ukraine, she's turning twenty-two."
"My brother, Canada, is a year older than Ukraine then," America pointed out. Russia didn't seem to care much. "So because you're the oldest here, are you like, the leader?"
"I would barely call it that," Russia chuckled, "We all have jobs around here, we don't have a specific leader. Ukraine goes out hunting every day, Belarus has a farm, and I normally do fishing or construction of other places."
"So, you basically built this house?" America pointed behind himself in disbelief, "Like, the whole thing?"
"It is still work in progress," Russia shrugged, "There are still places that need to be boarded up. Then, I am planning on building animal farm for Belarus."
America beamed. He hadn't seen teamwork like this in awhile - most of the work they did in the FA was no way teamwork. They'd go out in teams, sure, but they wouldn't actually work with one another.
"Is there anything I could help with?" America asked, "Because I mean, I doubt I'll be able to go home tonight.."
"Yes, you will not go back to the camp tonight," Russia leaned back, his hand still on Misha's back, "You have broken wrist and broken rib. If you are staying, you can help us if you really want to."
"Yeah, I'd like that," America mumbled, he loved the sense of helping someone, "I mean, it's the least I can do if I'm staying at your place for awhile."
Russia nodded, lifting the vodka to his lips. America didn't know where he got the alcohol from - he did know vodka was made from mashed potatoes, though, so he wouldn't be surprised if Russia somehow made it.
The sun was already setting over the horizon - America and Russia just sat there, watching it sink below the mountains in the distance, yellows and purples and oranges blanketing the sky.
"I'm ba-" An unfamiliar voice called, "..ck.. Who is that?"
"Ukraine," Russia turned to her, "This is America. He came from the FA, but fell down waterfall."
"Yeah, 'America'," Ukraine marched over to him and jabbed a finger at his chest, making him hiss with pain, Ukraine's eyes narrowed, "Try and send your buddies over here, I won't be best pleased."
"Look, dude," America held up his hands, "It's not my fault I'm here! I don't even know who pulled me out of that river! Probably Russia."
Ukraine slowly redirected her finger to Russia, Russia was snickering.
"It is funny seeing you angry," Russia leaned forward, "But Ukraine, he is guest, with broken bones, he said he would help us. The FA doesn't have decent technology, he cannot call his 'buddies'. Oh, and America's brother is Canada. Leaf face."
Ukraine hesitantly stepped back. She crossed her arms, her glare flicking from Russia to America.
"..Your brother?" She figured, "He is the FA leader? Surely you're worse than he is?"
"I'm not even kidding you," America smirked, "If you asked Canada for a million dollars, he'd just give it to you. He doesn't have the guts to hurt a cockroach."
Ukraine grinned for a split second before she frowned again. America watched her disappear into the house, the door slamming behind her.
"I swear, she fancies my brother," America laughed, "I wouldn't mind it, though. Canada is pretty adorable."
"Puppy cute?" Russia asked, "Not like, person cute?"
"Oh, yeah," America looked to Russia, "Canada's both. He's so innocent it hurts. My father doesn't even have the guts to try hurt him."
Russia furrowed his brows, looking to America. America froze. He realised what he'd just said, and wanted to take it back.
"Who exactly is your father?" Russia asked, sceptically.
"You wouldn't tell?" America asked, "No, course you wouldn't. How do I say this.."
Russia sat there with anticipation.
"My father, Great Britain, he's the leader of the Restoration."