Book 3 - Retrievers

XII - Plans

Russia wakes up slowly this time. He opens his eyes to someone poking his side. Russia sits up a little and hums in question.

"Russia?" America calls.

Russia hums in response.

"Can you ask Cali for some pain meds please?" America whines.

Russia nods and gets to his feet. He wanders downstairs in the dull sunlight of the arriving dawn. The house is waking up, Russia notices, but it's still fairly quiet. A few kids walk quietly around the table, hands full of legos and things of the sort. They quietly talk and trade pieces, building what looks like a small town. The air smells sweet, like raisins and fruit jam.

'This is nice.'

He walks into the kitchen and finds California messing with the toaster, looking tired.

"Hello," Russia greets.

"Hey. Do you need something?" California asks.

"America is asking for pain medication."

"Oh. Okay," California says.

She turns around and opens a cabinet above her head. She reaches up and Russia catches a glimpse of the inside. It's filled with various medicine bottles.

"Come on, where is it?" California mutters, shoving around the bottles.

Russia yawns and rubs his face. He turns around and grabs a cup from a kitchen cabinet. He fills it with tap water and turns back to see California pulling out an old-looking orange bottle with the prescription scratched off.

'It is strange to talk to a teenager almost taller than I am,' his mind tiredly suggests.

"Here you go. Make sure he takes two every 4 hours," California says, "labels aren't made for country metabolism."

Russia takes the bottle and nods. He walks back upstairs. From behind the bedroom door, he hears America groaning in pain. Russia opens the door and sits beside America on the bed. He pops open the bottle and hands America two of the pills. They're small and pale red. America shoves them into his mouth and grabs at the cup. Russia hands it over with a smile.

America drinks all of it quickly. He hands the cup back and Russia drops it against the bedside table.

Russia leans back and tucks his legs back under the still-warm blankets.

"Hey," America says slowly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The room falls quiet and Russia soaks in the calm atmosphere around him.

'It is nice to be able to relax.'

"Hey, Rue?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have a kiss? Please? I can't sit up, but..." America trails off, giving Russia a puppy-eyed look.

Russia chuckles.

"Of course." 

Russia turns around and props himself up on his arms. He leans over and their lips lock. Russia leans down a little further and feels America smile. Russia's heart flutters. America reaches around and laces his fingers through Russia's hair.

Russia sighs deeply and feels his shoulders relax. His scalp tingles pleasantly at the contact. Russia chuckles and pulls away, feeling light. He opens his eyes to see America pouting at him.

"I wasn't done," America whines, before wincing.

Russia smirks before lying back down.

"Love you," America begrudgingly admits.