Book 3 - Retrievers

XXXVII - Ruby Red

The drivers blast music loud enough to echo through the trailer. Russia leans against the connecting wall, listening. There is loud laughter and the driver jerks the wheel. Dull white headlamps flicker around him and light up the place like tea candles.

Russia presses himself into the corner as the truck careens around a corner. The batteries roll around wildly. Florida and Ohio jump over the rolling tubes, laughing. North Dakota kicks them away from South Dakota, who is victoriously holding one over her head.

Finland sits up on a tower of the tubes like a Czar. How they're staying in that formation, Russia can't begin to guess. Alberta attempts to make pyramids or bowl over Ohio. Kansas leans into the other corner next to the connecting wall, his arms crossed and a small smile on his face. Russia holds America in his lap and kicks the tubes away.

"Rue, I can-"

"No. I protect you."

"Rue-" America tries again, laughing in Russia's ear.

"I protect you."

America nuzzles into Russia's chest, giggling. Russia curls up around him with a serious look, glaring at the offending batteries.

'I will protect you. At least, I will protect you while I still can.'

Russia hugs America even tighter, and America pushes back a little.

"That's a bit too tight, Rue."

Russia relaxes a little, and America buries his face into Russia's chest. Russia tries to shake off his nerves. His heart pounds as the small headlamps the states wore begin turning off. Russia hears them huddle around him. Breathing gets more difficult, and his heart pounds against his rib cage as if trying to escape.

The noise of scratching claws creeps into his mind. Ringing fades to the static of silence of the caves. He shoves his hands over his mouth.

'My breathing is too loud. It will find us. Itwillfindus.'

"Rue?" America asks.

"SHH!" Russia hisses, curling over, "it will find us."

Then, pale blue light begins creeping into his vision. Russia gasps. His breathing comes in ragged wheezing, and he sees that America had moved to sit right in front of him. The distorted pop music fades back in, and so does the ringing. America's face is illuminated by a light blue glow.

"Rue?" America asks, his voice rising above the muffled music from the radio.

Russia looks toward him and wipes at the moisture on his face.

'I was crying.'

'I am crying.'

Other faces fade in as he looks around, and he sees his teammates looking at him with worry. He looks away, hiccuping softly under his breath.

'As if I couldn't embarrass myself more.'

"You know, I don't like the dark much since those caves," Finland comments.

Russia's gaze whips up to meet hers.

"It's okay if you don't like it either."

Russia looks away, biting his lip. He inhales through his nose and tries his best to calm his breathing, though he finds it's difficult. Then, someone shoves something into his hands.

"Here," Ohio says, turning away, "crack it. It'll help."

Russia feels it and feels a string on the end. He cracks the stick open and shakes it. It's neon green. Russia smiles faintly.