With his brother still in danger and magic on the fritz, Russia must keep himself together enough just to survive. With people behind him and monsters to chase, will he be able to bring his brother back safe?
Russia walks downstairs, and as soon as he gets down there, he feels eyes on him. He turns and sees many of the states staring at him in horror, and the other countries in the room seemed sympathetic and a little sick.
"What?" Russia asks.
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"You've been through the wringer, Rooskie," Dixie says with an unreadable tone, looking bothered.
Russia looks down and realizes that he must not have remembered to put a shirt back on before coming downstairs. The scars that cover his arms and chest aren't pretty, but he figured that they weren't that ugly either, they just existed.
"Is that painful?" Egypt asks tentatively, waving over his chest.
"Yes. It is very stiff, and sometimes cracks," Russia admits, "But I am okay."
Ohio mutters something before turning up and talking to Russia. Russia tries to watch Ohio's mouth, and his face screws up. He can't hear the words clearly enough to understand, and trying to lip-read with a second language is hard.
'I can't pick out any words,' he thinks, cursing his ears.
"Russia?" Ohio calls, sounding annoyed and confused,
"I couldn't hear you," Russia says sheepishly.
Ohio turns around with a scoff. Russia flinches a little.
'I don't like this either.'
"Ohio!" America exclaims, "You will be nice! It's not Russia's fault, and you will respect that!"
Ohio mumbles something, shame on his face. Russia looks away and rubs the back of his neck. Embarrassment fills his stomach.
"I'm sorry," Russia says quietly, and he slinks into himself as his own voice sinks below the ringing in his head.
He leans over to look even just a little smaller. He starts fidgeting with his hands and starts signing the ASL alphabet nervously. Then, Oregon walks up to him and signs hello.
"(Hi,)" Russia signs back, not able to meet her eyes.
"(I will teach you something,)" Oregon signs.
"(What?)" Russia asks, curiously looking up.
She starts signing around her face, making a motion around her ears. Then she spells it out for him and Russia's face lights up.
"(I can't hear you,)" Russia repeats.
She laughs a little and nods. Russia feels pride in his chest at having learned it.
"(You're good at signing,)" she comments with a smile.
Russia smiles brightly.
"(Thank you.)"
"(Do you want some more lessons?)"
"(Yes please.)"
And that's how Russia finds himself spending the rest of the day. He tried to absorb as many words and as much grammar as his mind could fit. And as time passes, the house began to smell like vegetable broth and meat.
