Repairing Our Relationship

42

So, how's your day?

Mine's been fine, been thinking of ship scenarios.

~~~

Russia POV

It's been so long. I lost track of how long I've been here. Recently, our captors got some new equipment for torture and the pain has only gotten worse from there.

Soviet Union hasn't been doing well. At all.  Over time the torture, the pain, basically everything here has begun adding up.  Even after a few weeks since his last torture session he can hardly move without being in pain. Even sitting still hurts to an extent. He tells me the pain is bearable but I think he's lying to make sure I don't worry too much.

Everyone's been much weaker and life here has gotten worse. Palestine still persists in what she does but she's weaker as well. During a session of torture Ecuador almost died from one of the devices. We didn't see him for a bit but when we finally did he told us through sobs of what happened.

Of course the one time Small isn't there someone almost dies...

UN's been curling up and never talking to anyone. Whenever someone tries he softly whispers to be left alone. I'm not sure how and why, but seeing UN like this just brings a sense of hopelessness into the atmosphere.

I was currently leaning on Soviet and watching the others. Everyone were in their own little groups either quietly talking, silently crying, or just trying to keep warm. A few countries were sleeping.

"Папа..." I looked up at Soviet.

Soviet hummed faintly, indicating he was listening. "Are you okay..?"

The answer to that was obvious, and we both knew it. My father was getting weaker by the day and it's scaring me. As much as I think death would allow us to escape this place, I don't want to be left alone...

I've been begging Small to help Soviet more, and he's doing the best he can. But even then he can only do so much.

Soviet sighed softly and painfully wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to him. "I-I'm fine..." He murmered.

"Stop lying to me, we both know you're not..." I frowned. I never liked it when he lied to make me feel better.

Soviet went silent and looked away. "Just...just tell me straight up... There isn't a point lying to me... Not anymore..."

My father sighed softly. "Everything hurts..." He murmered. "I-I can barely sleep...it's hard to eat... S-Sometimes I have trouble b-breathing..."

I wrapped my arms around Soviet and carefully rested my head on his chest. "We'll be okay, папа... I-I'm sure the others have gotten closer to finding us..."

"...R-Russia...Теряю надежду... (I'm losing hope...)" Soviet whimpered.

I didn't respond to that since I was losing hope myself. It's been so long, surely the others would've found us by now? Or at least be on their way? Maybe they forgot about us, maybe they gave up, maybe they don't care anymore...

I shook my head. No, I can't think like that. They'll find us, even if it takes years. "I-I know, but they'll find us. I know they will..."

Soviet sighed and moved so he could lay on my lap. I helped him lay down and rubbed his back.

"Russia?"

I perked up and looked at who called my name. I watched North Korea crawl over and let him lean against me. "Hey, North..."

"Hi..."

"How's the headache..?"

"Better... Doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday...or maybe just a few hours ago...I don't know how long it's been..." North sighed, his voice shaky.

"Well..at least you're doing better..."

"Yeah-"

The door to the room burst open. I whipped my head towards it, my breathing already beginning to speed up. There stood Buff, and by the looks of it I think he had a bad day.

Which means one of us will get horribly tortured.

You'd think there wouldn't be much of a difference between being tortured regularly and being tortured by Buff when he's in a bad mood, but nope. When Buff's in a bad mood he projects all his anger onto us, and that causes worse pain than we'd normally feel.

This new equipment wouldn't make the experience any easier.

North stared at Buff with wide eyes (Middle took away his eyepatch a bit ago), trembling. Soviet switfly sat up, wincing and gritting his teeth in the process, but still looking at Buff nonetheless.

Buff scanned the room full of us unfortunates. Everyone was silent as we stared at him, but his was menacing. I could see how he went over the options in his head, weighing how each of us were doing and if we'd be strong enough to survive a session.

His gaze eventually rested on me. We stared at each other for a bit before one of his wings twitched and he began walking towards me.

My breathing hitched and tears promptly slid down my cheeks. I couldn't move if I tried, I was frozen in fear. Not like I'd be able to get away, anyway.

"L-Leave him alone..." Soviet moved in front of me and stuck his arm out as if to block me from Buff, though he was roughly shoved to the side in response.

"П-Папа-" I whimpered as Buff grabbed my arm and tried to pull away.

North jumped up and bit Buff's arm as hard as he could. Buff shouted in pain and threw North into the wall, where his head collided with the wall and he fell to the floor, knocked out. "Stupid Korean..." Buff huffed, rubbing where his arm was bit.

I was hyperventilating and sobbing by now. I sat still for a few seconds before scrambling to get to Soviet before Buff grabbed me again. Sure enough, he tried reaching me but Soviet rushed forward and pulled me into a hug.

My face was hidden in Soviet's chest as my body heaved with sobs. I expected him to be yanked or thrown away from me but he strangely wasn't. Even weirder, the usual cold of the room had been replaced by warmth. Almost like a soft blanket had been draped over me.

After crying for a bit I forced myself to calm down and take a look at what had happened. Other than the fact that Soviet was still hugging me tight and close, we were surrounded by a snowy white. It had feathers that were long and seemed to sparkle in the otherwise dark and gloomy room. I reached out and ran my hand through them, they were soft and smooth, albeit a bit ruffled.

Suddenly it clicked. I was looking at and touching wings. I was held in the warm embrace of wings.

I turned to Soviet and looked up at him. He looked down at me and managed a sad smile.

These were my father's wings.