Book 3 - Retrievers

XI - Explanations

Russia cries, and his mouth no longer cooperates to say any recognizable words. Russia shakes and squints his eyes shut. He rubs his face, frantically babbling, trying to convey his apologies. He faintly sees most of the states shuffle out, but finds that it doesn't matter.

"Russia?" America asks.

Russia blubbers, opening his eyes to look at America.

"Hey, Russ?" Delaware asks.

Russia turns around and sees Delaware standing against the now-closed bedroom door. His arms are crossed, but he doesn't look angry, just sad. Russia looks away, his heart sinking in his chest.

'Did I make it worse?'

Russia opens his mouth to apologize again, but America beats him to it, putting a finger over his mouth.

"Shh, it's okay. I don't know what's going on, but you don't have to apologize to me," America promises.

"But you're hurt and I-"

"Rue," America mumbles breathlessly, his eyes wide with horror.

"Yeah, sorry Russia. In the chaos, no one really told you what was happening," Delaware says, rubbing the back of his neck, "but it wasn't your fault."

"But I-"

"Russia," America says, brushing tears off Russia's cheek, "this isn't your fault."

Russia goes quiet, biting his tongue to keep any more apologies from spilling from his broken heart.

"You didn't hurt me. Not like that," America says, leaning back on some pillows with a wince, "it wasn't you I was scared of."

"What are you talking about?" Russia asks, confusion clouding his already wrecked mental state.

"Dad had some not great partners in the past. And when I and the rest of the thirteen were young, it was ugly," Delaware says, a scowl set into his tired face.

"Meri?" Russia asks.

America doesn't reply. He looks away with an embarrassed stare locked onto the sheets.

"I'm going to tell you about it downstairs with the rest of the older states," Delaware says, "if they are still down there. Dad doesn't like to talk about it."

Russia glances at America, who is looking away with a pained look in his eye. Russia swallows nervously and nods. He excuses himself for a moment and rinses his face off before going downstairs.

He gets there and sees New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Virginia, and Georgia sitting on various seats around the living room. The other visiting countries had been moved into cots in bedrooms, Russia recalls.

Russia tentatively sits back in one of the armchairs. Maryland walks in and sits back, exhausted.

"This is everyone that's still awake," Maryland says, "Netti said they were going back to bed."

"Thanks, Mare," Delaware says with a forced and tired grin.

"Only Dad is allowed to call me that," Maryland says, crossing her arms with a huff.

"Anyway," Georgia cuts in, her face formed in a scowl, "we need to tell Russ here what's going on."

"I thought I already knew," Russia says quietly.

The states whip around to stare at him, and he stares down at his hands.

"I hurt him. I took his eye," Russia whispers.

"Russ, that's not what this was about," Georgia says, her voice stiff and sure.

"Dad had bad experiences. He has this.... girlfriend," Delaware says, playing with his hands, "and she did not treat him, or us, very well. She did some bad things."