The American Dream: oneshots

Fragile Hope (M)

You should know what this is by now.

Warning: this will contain foul language, sexual themes, and quick smut.

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To say Russia and Mexico were scared was an understatement. They were terrified. Sitting right in front of them, legs cross, was Soviet. Russia had forgotten that his father had a key to his house but he had used an extra lock to keep his father from coming in. How did he get in?

"П...Папа. What are you d...doing here?" Russia uncharacteristically stuttered. He internally scolds himself. Why was he freaking out in front of his father? Sure, his lover is America, and that she was resting upstairs with their kids. But did you think Soviet would be okay with that? He was so sure his father would hurt them.

Soviet ignored the question. He looked at Mexico for a split second before speaking again. "Мексика is here, covered in blood. And I could hear a scream a mile away. I had thought it was a movie you two were watching too loud. But I had recognized those types of screams. Screams of a матушка. I've heard it so many times with your mother so I know it pretty well. So, where are they?"

"Soviet. We don't know what-"

"Don't lie. A scream like that is difficult to replicate. And I will not ask a third time." Russia knew they couldn't stall any longer but he also knew America would not be happy about this. He looked into his father's eye and finally replied.

"If I do take you to them, you will not touch any of them. If you do, I will destroy you." Soviet raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Mexico tried to object but Russia ignored him. This was the only way to get his father calm. "Мексика. Please call UN. I would like to have a meeting with him in an hour."

Without waiting for a response, Russia started walking upstairs with Soviet on his heels. It wasn't long since America had started to sleep and he didn't want his father to wake her up. "If we're doing this, don't wake my котёнок up. She's exhausted."

Soviet nodded before opening the bedroom door. With him pausing at the door, Russia could hear a low growl from him. Looking ahead, he could see Alaska shaking slightly. He didn't want his and America's eldest daughter to be in here with his father.

"Г...Дедушка?"

"Аляска. Дедушка wants to see the babies. Do you think you can go downstairs and wait with Мексика? Just for a couple of minutes?" Russia said with a soft smile. Alaska shyly smiled back and quickly ran out, nearly bumping into Soviet. The moment she was out of sight, Soviet finally spoke.

"Her? You chose her? The Capitalist Queen?" Another deep growl escaped from Soviet's throat. Russia closed the door and stood his ground. "Out of all the Countries to pick, you had to pick Америка?"

"Not my fault that you lost her after the Cold War." That may have not been a great idea. Soviet's only eye started burning with rage. Russia had learned about what had happened between America and Soviet after the Second World War. To say he was pissed at his father was an understatement. Don't get him wrong, he was mad at America too but he at least understood that she didn't really have much of a choice back then.

"You dare run your mouth like that? You know fucking nothing!"

"Америка told me everything and I can't fucking believe you would do something that fucking horrible!!" Soviet tensed up but snapped right back.

"You are in no position to judge me. You nearly destroyed her in many ways."

"But I never in an emotional way!" Soviet was about to yell something back, however, a small cry filled the room. Both giant males looked over to the cribs, the source of the sound coming from there. Russia quickly walked over to the cribs to figure out who was crying. It was the youngest baby, the Mini-America one, while the two older ones kept sleeping. It looked like their yelling woke up the baby.