Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

XXXVI - Jar of Horror

Fanart by an amazing person on Tumblr. This same person also helped with some of the planning for this chapter. You can find them here- 

https://drizzels-art-blog.tumblr.com/

and

https://drizzeltheraincat.tumblr.com/

----Now on to the story!

The rest of the day slips away and Russia can't bring himself to pull away from America. 

'I am warm and comfortable here.' 

It already around late afternoon when the states start to disperse, some retrieving food and others disappearing upstairs. America sits up a little and feeds Russia marshmallows from the bowl laid in Russia's lap of blankets. 

Russia notes that he finally starts feeling normal again, and the warmth that had frozen over in his heart thaws.

"Hey, Rue?" America asks, tapping on Russia's chest.

"Mmhm?"

"Christmas is coming up," America mutters, "and... I don't want to have nothing to give the kids."

"It's not your fault," Russia mutters, hearing the guilt in America's voice.

"I know. I just want something to give them. I want to celebrate with them, you know? I always do something. Always. But I don't know what to do."

Russia hums and begins thinking.

"What do you want to give them?"

"I don't know. Normally it's little things that I pick up that remind me of them, but all that is still at the Big House," America sighs, "They already missed one holiday. I want to make sure they can still enjoy themselves."

"Dad," New York interjects, "you don't need to get us anything. It's not a problem. We're just happy we aren't sleeping on the floor."

"But I don't want you guys to go without anything," America retorts, swapping to English.

"Dad, holidays should be the least of your worries." New York says, waving his hands, "you're being fucking ridiculous!" 

"But it's coming up and I want you guys to be able to have an enjoyable time. This whole situation is hard enough as it is and I just want to make it better."

New York grumbles. Russia hums, lost in thought before it hits him. 

"Why not do the same thing?" Russia asks.

"What do you mean?" America replies.

"We could find things while we go on that mission and mail them here."

"There isn't an address here."

"But I do have a PO box," Dixie volunteers, "with a fake name and address."

"That would work," America ponders, "maybe..."

America goes quiet, tapping a random pattern on Russia's chest. Russia begins thinking, trying to plan on how he and America were going to get everyone something. 

'It would be hard,' Russia thinks, 'but if it's what America wants, I'll give it my best shot.'

Russia tries to think about what each of the states would've wanted, but the names swirl in his mind and Russia blinks. Although he never wanted to get up, Russia pulls away to find some paper and pens. He finds some upstairs in the office and he quickly returns to retake his spot. The space where his legs were had been taken by some of the younger kids, so Russia takes a seat on the carpet in between America's knees and he leans his back into the couch.