America woke up with a groan. His head hurt like hell. He should really stop drinking, but hey, he had to somehow prove to the others he was okay. I suppose one good thing was that America couldn't remember having any nightmares, which is always a plus. But does he deserve freedom from that pain for a night? He deserves every bad dream he gets.
'Don't you dare say that again.'
America's eyes widened. A voice in his head? No, a memory. But... who said that? And when? Why? Surely, he couldn't have been told that last night? America felt fear creep up on him. Does someone know? Did he unknowingly blab? But, who? The fogginess of America's memories irritated him to no end. If someone knew, then... America felt like screaming. He wasn't supposed to drag anyone else into his mess, he was supposed to keep this all personal! And yet, he couldn't even manage that. He's so stupid, he can't do anything right.
'Don't you dare say that again.'
"Oh, shut up..." America said out loud. America quickly wiped away some tears that had begun to crawl down his cheeks, his anger fading away. Even though he didn't mean to pull this person into his mess, he felt a rush of happiness and gratitude. Was this what it felt like to feel important to someone?
America had almost forgotten the feeling in his past month of hell. America smiled to himself. Was this what it was like to feel happy again? America sighed, amazement and gratitude pounding through him. He had to figure out who said this to him, he needed to.
Because even though America's life has gone to shit, the foggy memory of this person is somehow making him feel happy and wanted again.
Somehow, this unknown person is giving him a reason to live and, god, America really needs a reason to live right about now.
America's hand flew to his head, a horrible headache starting to pound in his head. Right, Hangover exists. He could deal with it though, he'd been getting a lot of headaches recently.
America sighed. No matter what came his way, he could deal with it. He had to deal with it. He had to, for the states. He had to be strong for them. He had to be strong....
Oh, who is he fooling here?
The world would be better off without him.
His kids would be better off without him.
In the end, I guess he's no more than a foolish monster.
--x--
Russia woke up to his alarm, quickly shutting it off. Once Russia was finally awake enough to think, his mind immediately flew to what happened last night. Russia frowned. Why was America, of all people, feeling that way? Had he always felt that way? Why didn't Russia notice sooner? It hurt Russia's heart. America believed with all his heart that he was a terrible person, even though Russia knew he wasn't. Hearing America say those things about himself... It made Russia react in ways he didn't know he could. He felt so angry and sad and protective all in the same moment. Oh, and Russia really wanted to slap CPR, whoever that is. Still does.
Russia sighed, changing the subject in his own head. Just the thought of what happened yesterday made Russia's blood boil. Even though Russia had gotten info- really heavy info at that- he hadn't gotten the information he wanted. The whole point of that was to get America drunk enough to take off his damn gloves and that, uh, didn't happen. If Russia could just figure out why America was hiding his hands, then Russia was sure everything else would click into place. In the end, Russia still had no idea what was wrong with America's hands other than the fact they were apparently ugly and bloody- which makes no sense as it stands- and Russia was pretty sure he wouldn't get another chance to figure it out anytime soon.
Other than today, possibly. He did promise he would help America with preparations. Russia stood up, quickly getting ready. After eating a quick breakfast, Russia had someone drive him over to the UN Headquarters. He wasn't gonna go through the hassle of renting out a car again. Once Russia arrived at the Headquarters, he was just a little bit surprised to see America waiting outside the entrance, phone in hand.
America looked up from his phone, seeing that Russia had arrived. He smiled and gestured for Russia to come over. Russia smirked, deciding to act like he knew nothing since America probably didn't remember anything, "Nice suit."
"Yeah, yeah, I get that it wasn't necessary to be formal, but I felt like it, ok?" America replied quickly, frowning at Russia's smirk. They walked inside. Russia was about to start friendly conversation when America started talking about what they would do today, "Okay, so for the most part, this month I'm gonna have a buffet so that countries don't have to go out into the city and eat at restaurants if they don't want to, and UN wanted to do some renovations in some rooms, so we're doing that as well. Not to mention, we have to have everything cleaned by tomorrow." America handed Russia a few papers. "For the most part, we're going to be supervising all this stuff and make sure everything is going smoothly. Overseeing food and supply orders, making sure people aren't slacking off, etc." America smiled slightly, looking up at Russia, "Also, uh, thanks for volunteering to do this. I put too much on my plate and, uh, I don't think I'd be able to finish in time without your help. You didn't have to, so thanks."
Russia smiled, trying to stop himself from blushing, "It's really no problem. Plus, I wanted to help out, so it really isn't a problem."
America smiled, quickly hugging his taller friend, "Thank you." With a smile and a small wave, America headed down the hallway.
Russia was gonna follow him until he realized that they were probably doing separate jobs. Russia looked down at the papers America gave him and quickly skimmed through what he'd have to do. So, he was supervising the renovations on the second floor first. Cool.
Once Russia got there, he made sure to check over everything that was happening and make things run smoothly. Since he was a country, he adjusted quickly and took charge. Once he made sure everything was running smoothly, he started to head over to the next thing he had to do which was to get the cleaning crew and make sure they know what they're doing. Russia went through a similar process and just started burning through the list. Surprisingly, he finished by noon. Russia walked down to the lobby and pulled out his phone. He was going to text America he was done, but then quickly realized he still doesn't have America's phone number. Russia clicked his tongue. He should probably ask for that sooner or later. But, before Russia had the chance to think about searching for America, Russia saw him walking down the hallway, talking to someone. The person America was talking to curtly nodded at whatever America said and walked out of the building.
America spotted Russia and smiled, walking up to him. "Hi, Russ! How's work going?"
"I finished already."
America looked at Russia, suddenly confused, "You-" America made a ton of incoherent, confused noises, "You what?! How?!"
Russia laughed, "It's simple, I made sure everything was running smoothly and then made the person working the best take over."
America facepalmed at himself, "You know- you'd think after 200 years of being a country, I'd be smart by now," Russia chuckled and America turned to look at him, saying, "I think this calls for a free lunch."
"Free for you or for me?"
"Y'know, the first option sounds really nice, are you sure?" America joked.
"No."
"Damn it," America cursed under his breath, making Russia laugh.
They called over a driver, and both got into the car. America told the driver where they were going. For once, it wasn't McDonald's. When Russia gave America a questioning glance, America explained, "It's a really good restaurant in the city, so we're going."
"Woah, no McDonald's?" Russia joked and America scoffed.
"I'm not that obsessed."
"Mhm." America sharply turned towards Russia and made a really mad face. Russia held his hands up, "I'm joking, I promise!"
America's expression broke and he laughed a little bit because of how desperate Russia looked. He smiled and commented, "You better be."
Once they got there, they were sat down and Russia looked over the menu, already liking his options. Russia eventually ordered his food, interested in what it would taste like. After ordering, however, Russia finally noticed that America hadn't ordered anything. "Are you gonna eat something?" Russia asked.
America turned to look at Russia and quickly smiled, waving off the suggestion, "No, no, I'm okay. I already ate, I don't need to eat," Russia immediately felt suspicious. One, that lie made absolutely no sense, since Russia is a hundred percent sure America didn't eat before this since he was working. Two, what America said last night was still very fresh in Russia's mind. Why was America putting himself through this? What happened all those years ago was never his fault. Russia immediately felt the protectiveness from last night creep back into Russia's heart. Then, Russia realized something, his own face showing his worry plainly. It's not that America didn't need to eat, he just didn't want to eat. Why was he starving himself? Russia looked at America. Luckily, he didn't look too skinny, but Russia was suddenly afraid and nervous. He somehow needed to convince America to eat.
"Well, I won't allow you to pay for my food if you don't eat too," Russia said, as it was the only thing he could think of on the spot.
America immediately became confused, "What? Are you joking? I promised I would pay as thanks," Once more glance at Russia's determined face told America all he needed to know, "Wait why are you serious- I don't- uh- what- but I don't- ughhhhhh," America's head thumped against the counter in defeat and Russia barely heard him whisper, "But I don't deserve it."
"Don't say that," Russia responded immediately. America looked up at him, getting serious deja vu. "As your friend-" The word had never tasted so bitter in Russia's mouth- "I can say that not eating isn't good for you. So, please, eat some food for me."
America paused, and even though Russia couldn't see it, his eyes started darting around the room in confusion and fear. Russia had heard him. Not only that but surely he wasn't- Could Russia really be-?
"C'mon, I promise it won't bite." Russia continued teasingly, trying to make the topic lighter so that he wouldn't stress out America.
"Screw you, too," America said, a smile creeping onto his face. And, because Russia insisted, America ordered his own food. They talked while they ate, and America could honestly say that he couldn't tell whether his smiles were fake or not. But, even so, Russia probably wasn't the blurry person from yesterday. America quickly shot down the thought Russia was and the cruel hope that had risen with it. Russia didn't know. Nobody did. And he probably didn't care either. If anything, he should be glad that a monster like him is getting what he deserves. America's thinking too hard into this. Heck, the foggy person lingering in America's memories was probably no more than something his stupid brain made up to torture himself even more! I mean, his hands always looked bloody when he looked at them now, so it was probably mental torture at this point!
But... if the blurry figure was another figment of his own cruel imagination... why did he make America feel so worthwhile? And why does that foggy person remind America so much of Russia? Surely Russia isn't him...
But as America heard Russia start talking again, America's eyes widened.
It couldn't be... but it had to be. America put a hand to his mouth and tears formed in his eyes. Someone cared. Someone actually cared. This wasn't fake at all... because...
Russia's voice and the blurry figure's voice were the exact same.