Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

XLIII - Why?

SItting back, relaxed, and occasionally falling asleep is how Russia spends most of the day. Whenever one of the states sees him awake, they give him another bottle of water to drink. Russia doesn't quite understand why, and he finds the frequent bathroom trips annoying, but his burns were more tolerable than they had been.

Russia starts drifting off when he feels someone grab his arm. He jolts up and his eyes fly open. He sees Califonia taking a startles step back and New York retracting his hand. He relaxes and chuckles.

"I told you he would jump," New York says.

California rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to Russia with a smile.

"We're just checking on you to see how well everything is healing," she explains with a cheery smile.

Russia pulls himself away from the couch to let her unwrap the bandages from around his torso. California hums and New York tsks.

"Looks like that healing magic helped keep the blistering pretty minimal," New York comments, "But you have to keep it covered-"

"And moisturized," California interjects.

"Yeah. And moisturized, for it to heal all the way," New York finished, scowling at California, who gives him a smirk in return.

Russia offers his hand and New York rips the bandages and flips his hand over a few times carefully before dropping it. The outer, visible sides have closed with scar tissue.

"Should be usable, and your hip should be the same," New York says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

California shoves New York's shoulder.

"Be nice!" California says.

New York scoffs and California laughs before walking away. New York rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. New York looks back down at Russia and America and his gaze softens. America sleeps on, completely unaware of his surroundings. 

New York sighs and his scowl falls completely to a neutral expression. Then New York makes quick eye contact and shoots Russia a tentative smile before turning away and walking out of the room.

Russia wants to sit back again, but the area around his burn is slimy and his hair still feels gross. He slowly stands up and America grumbles, trying to tug him back down to the couch. Russia laughs a little and pulls away.

America whines and cuddles with a pillow that Russia had been laying on. 

Russia smiles gently before slowly climbing his way up the stairs. Luckily, his hip allows him to get to the top before having to sit down. The wound throbs, but the pain doesn't last long. Russia breaths deeply to let the pain fade before walking into the bedroom. He eventually sits in the shower and tries to warm up the water.

Russia yelps when the hot water hits his skin and he rushes to turn the water cold. He shivers.

When Russia finally gets out and dressed, he makes it to the bed and cringes at the burns. The skin is stiff and cracks a little, weeping blood. Russia winces. 

Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," Russia calls.

The door opens and America stumbles in with a bottle in his hand. America hastily closes the door and sways dangerously on his feet. Russia gets up quickly and catches America by his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks.

"Yeah. 'm just tired," America mumbles, handing the bottle to Russia, who catches it easily.