Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

XLII - Awake and Dramatic

Russia wakes up slowly, and his chest pulls uncomfortably. He sits up a little and looks around. He sees New York sleeping, a light blanket tossed over his shoulder. New Jersey, New Mexico, and Texas are nowhere to be seen, and Russia hears motion in the kitchen.

Russia sits up further and winces in anticipation, only to find that the wound on his hip only faintly ached. Though he doubts he could walk, Russia did relish in that he could sit up by himself.

America whines. Russia looks down with concern. America pulls himself into Russia's lap and quiets. Russia smiles softly and brushes America's hair with his fingers. Russia feels full of happiness, and he couldn't think of anywhere else he would want to be.

New Jersey walks in quietly and sits back in the chair New Mexico had slept in and shushes the states walking in, pointing to New York. The way the states just nod and quietly walk away makes Russia's heart swell.

America turns and Russia looks down to see America looking back up at him.

"Hi," America mutters.

"Hello," Russia replies quietly.

"You're warm."

"You are too."

America hums before he closes his eyes and sinks into Russia's lap. Russia smiles.

"I feel sick," America says quietly.

"Is it your magic?" Russia asks.

"Probably. I just don't feel good."

Russia hums and rubs America's back. America smiles and giggles softly before closing his eyes again for a moment before open his eyes again and stares up at Russia with adoration, though it is muted by exhaustion.

"Where is your hand?"

Russia chuckles and lifts his good hand for America to see. America grabs it and hugs Russia's hand to his chest.

"And the other one?" America says.

Russia reluctantly gives America his more injured hand. It takes America a few tries to successfully grasp Russia's palm. America pulls Russia's hand in gently and blearily looks at it.

"You're hurt."

Russia chuckles.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"...oh."

America looks away, and his guilty look pulls at Russia's heartstrings.

"You make me so happy," America says, "and you got hurt."

Russia smiles and brushed America's cheek with his thumb.

"You're safe. The states are safe. That is all that matters," Russia says quietly.

"But I don't want you getting hurt for me."

"Why do you say it is your fault?"

"Because I could've been more careful. And maybe if I was better, then I would've gotten us out before you were tortured."

"This is not your fault."

America huffs, and Russia brushes his hair back. America blushes a little, and Russia smiles. America sighs and turns to face the rest of the room, curling up into a fetal position. Russia smiles and watches the states excitedly wave and whisper, pointing and taking glee in the fact that they are finally seeing America awake and reactive.

Russia chuckles at their reactions, finding the kids cute in their enthusiasm.

"I'm not going to be the tallest anymore," California says with a pout.