Two's Company - Rusame

Checkmate - Chapter 3

America

"No! No, please! You can't do this!" I shouted, my voice raw as I watched him destroy everything in my life. "I have a name now! I'm safe! You can't touch me!"

He turned to face me, his cold eyes sucking every ounce of warmth and comfort from my body. "Stupid boy, I can do whatever I please. I bought you. You are mine; nothing you can do will ever change that. No matter where you hide..." His iron grip crushed my shoulder, his steely fingers bruising my skin. "I will find you."

I thrashed against a set of hands trying to hold me, the wet feeling of tears rolling down my cheeks as I kicked and attempted to knock them off me, but to no avail. I screamed incoherent words, terrified of him, angry that he'd found me.

"Amerrika, it is okay, you arre okay." His strong arms wrapped around me holding me to his chest. I wiggled around a bit more, eventually giving up and sobbing into Russia's shoulder.

I continued like that for a few minutes, my terror fading as my new reality sank in. When I'd calmed myself, Russia tenderly laid me back down all the while still holding my hand. Finally thinking clearly, I noticed a very odd peculiarity.

Examining every inch of my skin, I stared at the snow-white color. Flakes of blue stained the sheets beneath me, some still stuck to my body. "Whed air heffalailr du na?" (What's happening to me?) I beg, fear taking over my sleepy mind. "Ha har sisran na!" (He has cursed me!)

Russia held tight to my hand, reaching over to grab my other one. "Amerrika, you arre alrright. No one has currsed you; yourr flag has changed now. You have escaped. You no longerr belong to him, you arre yourr own country now."

"I don't understand," I whimpered, stifling my panic.

Russia smiled comfortingly. "When someone is a parrt of anotherr countrry, theirr flag rreflects that of their masterr. But afterr they have been set frree or rreleased, and arre given a name, they lose their ownerr's flag, and wear their own." Russia handed me a small mirror.

I held it up to see my face. Thirteen red and white stripes decorated my face, as well as a blue box of fifty or so little white stars. My eyes were still the bright gold they've always been; the same abnormality that made me stand aside from the rest.

I shook off the rest of the dark blue flakes, some sticking longer than others. The tattoo that read my name, those horrid little numbers, left me as well.

I was free.

-*- le time skip -*-

Though I was free from humiliating disciplinary measures and pointless r_pe, I wasn't free from embarassment. Russia and I sat alone, thankfully, on the back porch while eating lunch. Russia sat with a crossword, his eyebrows drawn as I worked on my food, something he called vareniki and pickled vegetables.

Suddenly, he flipped the crossword to me, pointing to a string of letters in the neat row of boxes. "Is this spelled rright? I have alvays had trrouble vith this English worrd."

I stared at it, my stomach dropping like a rock. Chewing, I swallowed nervously. "I-," my voice caught in my throat, "I don't know."

The lines around Russia's eye grew deeper as he shifted his gaze to mine. "How do you not-" He froze, realizing that his digging was doing nothing but mortifying me. "I am sorrry, Amerrika. I did not mean to be so rrude." After taking a moment, he thought of something. "We will change that immediately. You will learrn to rread and wrrite, orr I cannot call myself a morral countrry."

And with that, I felt a bit more at ease. Safer.

"Russia, someone is here for you," Belarus poked her head out, nearly startling me out of my chair.