Angel, please don't go home...(rusame)

7.

~BAM,BAM,BAM~

Russia jumped out of bed. Someone was knocking harshly on the door of his bedroom in the middle of the night. And it was more than obvious who that was.

"Get the fuck up! We need to talk!"

Russia walked to the door and opened it. His father was standing there, so angry that it seemed like he would kill Russia this time. And what's the worst is that Russia didn't even know what he had done wrong.

SSSR grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground. Russia yelped and tried his best to move his father's hand away. His gripe was so strong that Russia could barely breathe.

SSSR lifted his other hand that was holding an empty bag of gummy candy. Russia totally forgot about that.

"I know very well that I told you that eating sweets is forbidden! Belarus is still too young to go buy it herself, and Ukraine would never disobey me. So that means you gave it to her, didn't you?!"

Russia couldn't say anything. He was trying to stay conscious. The lack of oxygen making his vision blurry and he could barely hear what was said to him due to the blood pressure in his head because his blood couldn't circulate.

SSSR let go of him and he fell to the ground. Before he could catch his breath he got kicked in the stomach and thrown back into his room.

"I guess this will teach you a lesson and that you won't disobey me again!"

SSSR slammed the door shut.

Russia was laying on the ground, shaking. He was holding his stomach.

It hurt.

It hurt so bad.

He tried to get up but he fell down again. After a few attempts he managed to get to his bed and sit on it. He was breathing heavily. His whole body hurt. And at some point he felt like he was about to vomit. He thought about going to the bathroom but he knew he couldn't even stand on his own legs.

He felt a substance run up from his stomach to his mouth. He bowed slightly forward but instead of vomit blood started dripping from his mouth and nose.

He was already starting to panic. What should he do? He didn't have anyone who could or even would help him.

Or did he?

He looked at his jacket. It was hanging on the chair that was on the other side of the room. The paper with America's address and phone number was in its pocket.

He had no choice. He had to get up.

Russia pushes himself up on his feet and immediately pain ran through his body. He almost screamed and leaned against the wall. He made a step forward, following the wall. He knew he couldn't move without supporting himself with something.

It took a while to get to the chair. He had to stop several times to rest or to cough up even more blood.

He quickly took the paper and typed the number on his phone.

The phone was ringing but no one was answering.

"Please... Please hang up..."

He was slowly losing hope that America would answer when suddenly...

"Umm hello?...," America said with a sleepy voice.

"Hi America."

"Oh hi Russ."

He made a small pause to yawn and then continued.

"Duuuudeeeeee... I know I said that you can call me whenever you want but I didn't know you were interested in having a talk at... almost 2 in the morning..."

"I'm sorry...," Russia said and started coughing again.

He was about to continue but heard some loud noise from the other side of the phone.

"Ame-?"

"Tell me where you are. I'm coming to pick you up," America said, the sound of keys following.

"But you can't come to my house."

"Can you get out of the house?"

Well that was a long road through pain.

"Russia? Can you?"

"Y-yes. I can try to."

America sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Please send me your address in a message and I'll be there as fast as possible."

Russia hung up and send him his address. Then he put his phone in his pocket and slowly put on his jacket. He carefully emptied his backpack and pushed in some clothes, his charger and earphones and the rest of the food that America gave him.

He carried the backpack in his hand because putting it on his back would be too painful. Then he slowly walked out of his room and down the hall. If he wakes his father he will be in big trouble.

He managed to get to the last door that was standing between him and the outside world. He opened them slowly and saw a dark figure standing outside. He froze in place.

"Russ, relax. It's me," America said walking forward. Russia reached his hand out to America but the pain made him take it back.

America gently held onto his arm and helped his walk out. After closing the door they both sighed in relief.

"America?"

"Yes?"

"I can't walk... How are we going to get to your apartment?"

America showed him the car keys he held in his hand.

"You drive?"

"Yeah. I maybe look like a kid at some point but I do have a drivers license."

Slowly they made their way to the car and drove away. As soon as the house was out of sight Russia relaxed.

"I'm sorry if you waited but I had to get a few things first," America said pointing at the back seats with his palm.

Russia looked behind and saw a first aid kit and a bag full of bandages and other stuff.

"I didn't know what exactly happened. Didn't you get beaten up, stabbed, broke a bone or whatever else. So I made sure to have everything just in case."

Russia smiled. How can someone be so caring?

They were soon at the hotel in which America lived. As soon as they got to the apartment America didn't even bother to close the door.

He lead America straight to the bedroom. As soon as he laid down he fell asleep.