Book 3 - Retrievers

VII - Humming

Russia doesn't bother to move much, and America's fingers brush clumsily over his injuries. Russia flinches a little but doesn't say anything. America sticks out his tongue from the corner of his mouth.

'You are so sweet.'

America starts quietly humming a repetitive tune. Russia doesn't recognize it but decides that the background noise is nice, especially with its repetitive nature.

It's predictable. Calming.

'I didn't like stuff like this before.'

'Huh...'

'Well, before I... hmm. I don't want to think about that.'

The pain in his legs finally begins to shrink, and Russia gently rubs America's face and head. He's careful to keep from irritating any injuries. Soon, the throbbing turns to a dull ache. America pulls away and tills his head up with a dopey smile.

Then, Russia sees something moving in his peripheral vision.

Russia looks up and catches Massachusetts' eye.

"Okay, I'm going to try something," Massachusetts says, holding a large book under his arm.

"What are you going to do?" Russia asks.

"Just a healing spell to make sure Dad's okay. He can't afford to lose any more brain cells."

"Heyyy!" America protests.

Russia hushes him.

"What will it do?"

"Just take care of any lesions or anything to make sure nothing gets worse," Massachusetts says, "I can't do much else, and I don't think Dad knows to heal himself right now."

Russia nods.

Massachusetts takes a moment to cast his spell, and America's head begins to lull to the side.

"Cali told me to tell you to wake him up every few hours to make sure he doesn't get worse."

Russia agrees. Massachusetts turns around and walks off after one final look.

Russia smiles softly at America's face.

'He looks relaxed.'

But the bruising around America's eyes and cheek cause guilt to pool in Russia's gut.

'It still should've been me.'

America's breathing is calm and steady, and Russia tries his best to match it. Emotions churn.

Montana walks up and tugs on Russia's sleeve. Russia's head whips up and he tries to give her a smile.

"Hey Mr. Russia, you look like you're about to cry. Are you okay?"

Russia swallows before responding.

"I'm okay," Russia replies, trying to keep his voice reassuring.

Montana doesn't seem to believe him.

"It's okay to not be okay sometimes. Dad says so," Montana explains, tucking her hands behind her back.

Russia sighs.

"Your dad is... we were fighting. And I want to be upset, but I can't be with him like this."

Montana hums.

"That's fair," she says, "Dad is impulsive. But he loves you."

Russia hums. Montana offers a comforting smile before walking off.

Russia spaces out, staring at the television. Then, when it cuts to a commercial break, Russia shakes his head to wake himself up.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Russia asks, poking America in the shoulder

America replies quietly, saying something that Russia can't understand.

"Say that again," Russia asks, feeling embarrassed.

"Oh. I'm... I've been better," America says, wincing.

Russia nods. He watches, and America starts to nod off again. Russia smiles softly and begins brushing America's hair with his hands.

"Let me know if anything changes, okay?" California asks.

Russia nods and picks up the television remote. He flips on some cartoons at a very low volume and sits back and relaxes.

"Rue?"

"Yes, Meri?"

America mumbles something with pink cheeks and Russia chuckles.

"Did you want to say something?"

"Oh, yeah... uh... are we.... are we still together?" America stammers out, fear in his eyes.

"I... if you want to be," Russia offers, looking away.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You don't hate me?"

Russia looks up suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought you hated me."

"Well, I don't," Russia says reassuringly, "I couldn't."

America looks up with tears and a grin.

"I would try to kiss you or something, but I can't really move without wanting to scream."

"Wait, what? You crawled on top of me."

"Well, it hurt, but it was totally worth it," America teases with a smirk.

Russia laughs disbelievingly.

"You are ridiculous."

"I know."

Russia glances at the states, who had crowded around to watch the muted cartoons.

"Rue?"

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do?"

"...I don't know."

America hums.

"Well," America says, "Maybe you, me, Finland, and Texas can go to rescue your brother?"

Russia hums with a nod, reframing from commenting.

"I know I... I know I said some horrible things, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to keep apologizing."

"But I have to!" America insists, "I just... I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Russia says softly, "now we have to figure this out."

America starts drifting back off to sleep, and Russia relaxes.

'Meri is very warm.'

Russia yawns.

"Are we safe where we are?" Russia asks.

"I think so," New York says, "I mean, I think you killed the rest of those fuckers anyway."

Russia nods.

"Besides, I'm sure Texas will deal with anything they find."

"Okay," Russia says.

'Thank you.'

Russia feels his eyelids grow heavy.

'So tired. So warm.'

Russia yawns again.

"You should get some sleep while you can," Canada comments.

Russia jumps, and Canada laughs at him. Russia scowls, and Canada calms his laughter.

"Don't worry. I got it from here. I'll wake Aim up in a few hours."

Russia nods and closes his eyes.