Sitting on the roof of the hospital, Russia had a strange urge to grab some vodka. He was by no means an alcoholic, but the urge was there, promising to drown away what was dwelling in his heart and mind.
Russia put his hand over his eyes, trying to fight against the tears that threatened to fall. Adrenaline can only hold emotions at bay for so long, after all. Now, all of Russia's numbed emotions were crashing down on him, sending him into tidal wave after tidal wave of sorrow and worry. Using the hand that was covering his eyes, Russia rubbed away the tears already falling down his cheeks, letting his hand numbly fall to the ground when he had wiped his stupid tears away.
Staring up at the sky, Russia scowled. It was such a bright spring day, but Russia suddenly wished the sky would darken and rain would fall. He didn't understand how the world could be happy without America. He didn't understand any of it. Sure, America could come back... but he also may not. Russia frowned, leaning back against the wall surrounding the stairwell. How pathetic. The love of Russia's life confessed to him, and yet Russia couldn't say anything back. He just sat there like a dumbass. Why couldn't he say anything? Why couldn't Russia say just how much he loved America back? Why couldn't he squeeze America tightly and say those three words? Why couldn't he do something?
Oh, Russia would give anything to go back to that moment. He would give anything just to hold America tightly and say that he loved that stupid candy cane too. Maybe America could've become his stupid candy cane.
Russia's body racked as he let out a loud sob, hugging himself. He didn't want to cry alone, and yet here he was, sobbing on the roof without America by his side.
America...
Russia could never explain it. To any logical person, his love for that dork is illogical- nonsensical. Heck, Russia wouldn't be able to explain it himself. He didn't know how it happened. He didn't know how he came to love America so much. He didn't know how or why or anything, really. All he knows is that he would do anything for America to just sit next to him on this lonely rooftop. He would do anything to protect America and his stupid, annoying, beautiful, adorable, cute smile.
The sound of a door opening suddenly came from Russia's right and Russia quickly wiped away his tears, trying to look as normal as possible before whoever just came onto the roof saw him bawling his eyes out. Russia glanced to his right, seeing a countryhuman taller than France facing him. The countryhuman had a navy blue flag with golden stars in specific formations on it. The countryhuman smiled, sitting down next to Russia while saying, "There you are! I was looking to see where you went."
Though Russia didn't know who this person was, he could only assume that he was one of America's states. The state smiled, "I kinda thought you'd stick around for longer and, you know, hear the entire plan."
Russia rolled his eyes, "Isn't that why you're here? To tell me about the plan?"
The state laughed, "Hell no! DC would never let me escape that hospital room under any circumstances!"
Russia eyed him, "Then how did you slip out and what are you here for?"
The state noticed Russia's tense state and remarked, "You'd think someone in love with my Dad would trust his kids more."
"You're avoiding the question."
The state shrugged, "I asked for Washington to make a distraction so I could slip out and talk to you," The state looked at Russia's flag and then at Russia's ushanka with a sorrowful smile, "I'm going to take a guess and say that you aren't the Russia I knew, though. Your flag is the same as his was when we first met, but you aren't the same person. I can just tell."
Russia blinked in surprise and cast a curious look at the state to his right, "The Russia you knew?"
The state nodded, "I'm Alaska. I, uh..." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Do you know someone named Russian Empire?"
Russia pursed his lips, "I know of him, but I never knew him personally. He died before I was ever born," Russia paused before adding, "He's my grandfather."
Alaska exhaled softly, turning back to the horizon as the sad smile returned to his face, "I guessed so..."
"Did you know him?" Russia asked, turning back to the horizon. To say he was curious was an understatement. The most he knew about his grandfather was from books and journals- all his father would ever say about Russia's grandfather was that he was a 'stubborn and selfish prick' with the occasional curse word thrown in there somewhere.
Alaska grimaced, "Yes, I knew him. Maybe I knew him too well, but I guess I'll never know now. For the longest time, I saw him as my father, even though he wasn't biologically so."
Russia looked at Alaska, reasoning and hoping that Alaska's story will distract Russia from his overwhelming emotions, "Do you want to tell me about him?"
Alaska nodded slowly, looking down to the ground, "Yes... I really, really do." Russia gestured for Alaska to continue, and he did, "When the colonial countryhumans of long ago came to the new world, they did one of three things upon colonizing: they had a child with the native country human as a symbol of peace, only to kill the local countryhuman shortly after; they sent one of their own children to conquer the continent without having to mix with the natives to produce an heir that will rule over the region; or they took a local countryhuman child and either forced, taught, or coerced that child to rule over the region for them, taking advantage of both a child and an entire native population in one fell swoop. Of those three, I was the third option," Feeling something on his cheek, Alaska foreignly wiped away his own tears.
Russia looked at him sympathetically, "You don't have to tell me this if you don't want-"
Alaska interrupted him, "No, please, I've wanted to tell this story to the Russian Empire or one of his descendants for so long. I want to tell you this," Russia frowned and nodded hesitantly, letting Alaska continue with his story.
Alaska shakily nodded back, reeling his emotions in, "I was a child when Russians first appeared on my mother's islands. My mother's name was Aleut, and she represented the Aleuts as a whole, rather than the individual tribes. I also had a younger sister. Like me, she had no name of her own as we were blank then- countryhumans who don't represent a people or a landmass. So, my sister and I gave each other similar names that we would call each other. I called her Aima, and she eventually started calling me Aisa back. We had no real father, as both of us were made from our mother's energy alone. In a way, the local Aleut men tried to step in as our father figure, but, selfishly enough, I didn't want a human father. I wanted a father who was like me- I wanted a countryhuman father.
"Before the Russians ever came to our island, things were peaceful. Perfect, in a way. Every day was spent with endless joy, fun, and games. But then, one day, giant boats appeared on the horizon. The boats were larger than any boats we had ever seen before, and these strange men from the giant boats landed on our island. When we could finally understand them, we discovered that they were searching for furs. When they found out about the local seal and otter populations you could find near my homeland, they asked where to find them. We told them where they were, trying to help, and they left for the animals shortly after. Not before long, more and more Russians showed up and I quickly picked up their language, all too happy to help them while the rest of the Aleuts were starting to become wary of them. Noticing that I was a blank, they murmured a phrase I didn't understand at the time- Russian Empire- and left. It wasn't until many months later that an insanely tall man with fancy clothes showed up on our island: the Russian Empire himself. Back then, he had the same flag as you, Russia. Anyway, not knowing about my mother or my sister since neither had shown themselves in front of the Russians like I had, the Russian Empire offered to adopt me and 'teach me his ways.' Excited by the strange colors on his face just like my family and excited by the fact I could have a countryhuman father, I quickly said yes. He smiled at my response. A smile I had been so happy to see back then. He stayed on the island for a few days teaching me exactly what he wanted me to do. I was all too happy to oblige, feeling like all those father-son moments I had missed out on in my early childhood had been fulfilled. After about a week and a half, he had to leave, despite me not wanting him to. He smiled, praised me for doing so well throughout the past week with what he had told me to do, and told me that if I did everything that was asked of me, he'd return one day and we could be together again."
Alaska paused in his story, slipping an iron ring off of his hand that Russia hadn't noticed before, "When I promised that I would do my best, he gave me a flag- his flag, the same flag you have today- and reached into his pant's pocket, handing me this iron ring that shined kinda like how snow would. I thought it was a sign he cared about me but..." Alaska twisted the ring around, showing a small thin crack on the ring, "but the reality of it all was that it was a broken ring, which meant that it was worthless to him. What he was really doing was giving me his leftovers. He didn't love me. He didn't care about me, he just wanted me to do his dirty work for him."
Alaska sighed, his head hanging low, "Which I did, with little to no hesitation. Every day, I would go out and hunt for the Russians who had now made a permanent settlement on our island. Even when they started capturing wives and children to force the local men to hunt and get furs for them, I turned a blind eye, stuck in my own naive world that my 'father' would never let his men do such a thing. Eventually, they stopped upon orders by their empress, but the damage was done, and they quickly realized tensions were too high for peace at that point. So, they quickly turned back to violence. After all that, I was the only one who willingly helped them. My people started calling me a traitor behind my back, but I was so wrapped up in the hope that the Russian Empire would come back and tell me about how proud he was for all I'd done, that I ignored my own people. But, as the animals started disappearing, my people were coerced to go into more dangerous waters to find the furs.
"One night, when I went home to my mother, she begged me to stop helping them. She told me that these Russians were horrible people and they were taken advantage of me. She said that she hated seeing me like this and this needed to stop," Alaska winced, his tears falling down his cheeks, "but I didn't believe her. I told her that they weren't bad people and that I would continue helping them. She gave me a disgusted look and, with a hardening expression, said something I will never forget till the day I die. Translated into English, she said, 'Whoever you are, you are not my son,'" Alaska put his hand to his mouth, his tears rolling down his cheeks with no stop. Trying to comfort the poor state, Russia put his hand on Alaska's shoulder.
Collecting himself again, Alaska continued, "After she said that, I stormed off, hurt, upset, and angry," Alaska laughed bitterly and sorrowfully, "Little did I know, that was the last thing she said to me before she died. For the next few months, she led a rebellion against the Russians. I didn't see her at all until the day the rebellion was shut down cruelly by the Russians. I walked into the square, blood and bodies everywhere... it horrified me. The cruelty and abuse I had been willfully ignoring this entire time out of a belief that the Russians were good people was shoved straight into my face. In the middle of the clearing were my mother and my sister. My mother-" Alaska choked on his words, "M-my mother was a body on the ground... a-and my sister was next to mom's dead body, begging and pleading for her to wake up. That the fight wasn't over. Mom's body seemed so frail and weak on the ground- nothing like what she was when she was alive. I staggered up to her body and collapsed when I got to her side. She was long dead. In that moment, I realized who the Russians on our island really were. They were monsters, murderers. People who wouldn't hesitate to kill if that person inconvenienced them in the slightest. In a split second, I was dragged back to reality. I regretted so much in that moment... but out of everything, I regretted not coming to my senses sooner, hugging my mother tight," Alaska hugged himself, as if he was acting along with his story, "and telling her that I loved her. I regret not telling her that she was more important to me than some tyrant across the sea..."
Alaska laughed bitterly. Russia felt his heart swell in pity and second-hand guilt. Maybe his grandfather truly was as bad as Russia's father made him out to be. Alaska shook his head, his arms falling to his sides, "But we can't see the future: we're human. I had made my choice. A bad one, yes, but it is one that I have lived with ever since. I begged my sister, who was still screaming and yelling for mom to get up, to stop yelling. I told her, yelling in grief, that mom was dead," Alaska sniffled. "She didn't listen to me. She just kept on screaming and begging and pleading... my heart couldn't handle it. So, I grabbed her and dragged her away from mom. When I had brought her far enough away, her screaming and yelling shifted towards me. She pointed at me, her hand shaking just the slightest bit, and yelled that I had no right to be here. That I had no right to drag her away," Alaska shook his head softly, "I couldn't help but agree with her. She pushed her way past me before stopping where she stood, her back facing mine. I couldn't see her face, but I could hear her voice: heartbroken and betrayed. She told me she never wanted to see me again. She told me to leave and never come back... because I was no longer her brother."
Alaska looked down to the ground, fighting off tears. Russia's brows furrowed, but before he could say anything, Alaska said, "From that point on, I stayed far away from our village and when the Russians demanded that I- as Russian America- needed to move to a different island, I took that as my chance to fulfill Aima's- now called Aleut, our mother's name, by our people- wish. I moved from my homeland to Kodiak, where I stayed for around twelve years. Then I followed them to Sitka, where I would stay until I merged with America. I followed my Russian colonizers like a shadow, saying nothing and only doing the bare minimum to stay alive. When I became more and more worthless to them as a colony, they spoke of selling me off. I didn't care. My life had collapsed when my mother died. I had no purpose, no reason to live. There wasn't a night where I didn't see my dead mother in my dreams, and there wasn't a day where I didn't want to be dead along with her. If I'm being honest, I blamed myself for her death, and, over time, suicide became a common thought. On October 18, 1867, six months after I was originally sold, the official hand over ceremony was held. It was the first time I had ever seen America, and the first time in over 80 years that I had seen the Russian Empire. He didn't even look my way. He just participated in the ceremony. After the ceremony concluded, I merged with America without even speaking a single word to the Russian Empire. Nowadays, I wish I had said something to him, but what was I supposed to say? Thanks for taking advantage of me as a little child? No, I had nothing to say to him back then, and it's foolish to believe that I had."
Alaska smiled. "As it turns out, being sold was the best thing that ever happened to me. Dad, a true dad this time, and the others filled my days with such happiness. I felt like I had finally found a home again. A family again. Over time, my life gradually gained meaning. I talked to the others and even though they were awful at comforting me most of the time, they always made sure that I knew how much they loved me as their brother. It took a while, but after many, many years, I felt whole again."
Russia's brows furrowed, "But? Where do I come into all of this?"
Alaska turned to Russia, a wide smile on his face despite his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, "But there's one more thing I've always wanted to do. One more thing I've always wanted to say. I wanted to say this to your grandfather, but you'll have to do."
Alaska took a deep breath in before continuing, "I forgive your grandfather. He abandoned me, ruined my life, ripped my mother away from me, and let me live in a cruel, naive dream for years, but I forgive him. For the longest time, I hated and loathed him with my entire being... but... he also gave me some of the happiest moments of my life: being with my new family. I do not want to live in an endless cycle of hate, so this is where my past is set free. This is where I am set free," Alaska turned to the horizon, grateful tears on his cheeks.
Russia found himself smiling softly, "I'm glad I can help?"
Alaska nodded, leaning back against the wall, "But I suppose I also told you this because I wanted to comfort you."
Russia became confused, "Comfort me? How?"
"Because just like me, I know Puerto Rico can forgive," Alaska nodded to himself. "Our situations were different, yes, but they're also kinda similar. He feels lied to, betrayed. I felt the same way. He won't forgive easily, no one ever can, but even he's bound to realize that running away with the help of Confederacy won't fix his problems. Running away never fixes anything," Alaska sighed. "I don't know what he's gone through in life, but when you've hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up, right? Things will never be the same for any of us again, but that shouldn't be seen as a bad thing..." Alaska smiled softly and nervously, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have this feeling that at the end of this, we'll all be okay, you know? Things will be different, but just like how things were for me, I know our story will have a happy ending, even if it takes years to reach it. America is coming back. He's too stubborn to die. At the end of the day, I believe we just have to have hope."
Alaska stood up, a smile on his face, "Come on, let's catch the end of DC's rambling."
Russia awkwardly smiled back, getting up himself. Following Alaska down the staircase, he felt his mind grasp onto the small shard of hope Alaska gave him.
Yeah.
America's a prick too stubborn to die.
~~~~
ack, my uploading schedule is degenerating quickly-