Book 3 - Retrievers

XXII - Dark, Icy Blue

Russia watches in horror as the world spins. Everything is spinning blackish red.

"Russia!" America screams.

Russia tries to turn around, but can't move.

"Russia! Help!" America shrieks, "Please!"

"Russia!" Texas screams from his left.

Russia tries desperately to turn around, to help, only to find himself completely paralyzed.

"Help!" Alaska cries, her tone desperate.

"Why didn't you help us?" America whispers.

Russia shoots upright with a gasp. He covers his mouth and stares around the dark car. Finland is sitting next to him, and America is on her other side. New York is complaining to New Jersey from the driver's seat.

Russia takes a deep breath. The car still smells like stale french fries. Something pushes his hair around and Russia yanks the hairband off. Russia tries to calm the tremoring in his hands.

"Russia?" Finland asks.

Russia looks up and stares for a few minutes.

"Are you okay?" Finland asks, reaching out a hand.

Russia doesn't answer and Finland lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Where are we?" Finland asks.

"...in the car," Russia mumbles.

"Whose car?"

"Pennsylvania's."

"And where are we going?"

"Home."

Finland hums with a small smile.

"Are you okay now?"

"...yeah," Russia mutters, listening to his heart rate slow.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes."

"What about?"

"I couldn't help," Russia mumbles, staring at the headband in his hands, "they needed me and I couldn't..."

Finland hums. Russia trails off.

"It's okay now," Finland says soothingly, a comforting smile on her face.

Russia nods.

"See?" Finland says, waving to a sleeping America in the other seat.

Russia relaxes immediately and smiles lovingly. America sleeps soundly, his breathing is deep and even. Russia tries to match.

'We are okay.'

Russia sighs and leans against the window. He sits up again after his head bounces against the glass.

'Oww.'

Finland chuckles.

"We're almost home," New York says.

Russia sighs.

"What do you mean? We are still several hours away," New Jersey snarks.

"We are more than halfway there," New York argues.

"It's still gonna take forever," Texas whines from the backseat.

"Shut up," New York replies.

America shifts a little and groans. Russia sits up quickly, and his heart drops and starts to race. His hands get clammy and he feels lightheaded. His peripheral vision goes black.