Book 3 - Retrievers

L - Rides

Russia stands up as the sun begins to rise. Texas groans and rolls off Alabama to the ground. Florida tumbles to the floor with a shout. Everyone that had been leaning on him crawls to their feet, save Texas, who curls up into a ball and whines.

"Taz?" America asks.

Texas pushes himself up on shaking arms and then collapses back into a heap. Russia leans down, concerned. A sour, tangy smell surrounds Texas, mixing with his normal aura.

'He smells... sick.'

Russia doesn't know how else to describe it other than ill. Concern burrows its way into his chest. He nudges Texas' side gently with his paw, and Texas clings onto him weakly, coughing. Russia meets America's eyes. America crawls forward and Russia carefully backs out of the cave.

He was concerned by the lack of resistance as he pulls his paw from Texas' grasp. Texas tries to hold him there, but his grip is so weak, it's as if he wasn't even attempting. Once Russia is out of his grasp, Texas' hands fall to the ground, his chest shaking with every breath.

"Texas?" America calls.

Texas shakily sits up and sways violently to the side. America catches him by the shoulder and Alabama tries to help steady him. Mississippi removes a glove and puts a hand on Texas' forehead. Russia's heart sinks when Mississippi's face falls.

"He's got a fever."

"His body couldn't take it," North Carolina says sadly, limping over, "is he okay?"

"I'm fine," Texas says, his voice pitching down to be heard.

'He sounds very congested.'

"Yeah, right," Ohio comments.

Russia creeps forward, watched his paw placement, and nuzzles Texas gently with his nose. Texas grumbles and shakily hugs Russia's face.

"We need to move," Brazil says, hugging herself, "I'm sure those _____ will be back soon with backup."

Russia nods and crouches to the ground. Mississippi climbs on top of him and reaches down. Alabama and South Carolina push Texas up to him. Together, they get Texas up onto Russia's back and situated, laying on the back of Russia's neck.

Mississippi slides off.

Texas hugs Russia weakly, tucking his hands into Russia's fur, though the sensations are faint, almost unnoticable. Worry swirls around in Russia's mind.

With Mexico's help, America climbs up behind Texas and reaches around him to get a grip on Russia's fur.

"Dad?" Kansas asks.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Are you okay? You look pale."

"I will be. My magic is low, and I'm stuck filtering the shit around here. It just has me a little nauseous. I'll be okay."

America sighs before talking again.

"Care, are you okay to walk?"

"I can try," North Carolina replies, waving South Carolina away.

"Well, let someone know if you need a break, okay?"

"You got it," she replies, flashing finger guns.

Russia starts walking, occasionally glancing back to make sure everyone is following him. He catches Florida staring at his tail, mouth ajar. Russia smiles and playfully flicks Florida's face. Florida shrieks happily and grabs Russia's tail into a hug.

Russia waves Florida around side to side and Florida laughs. Russia chuffs and turns back around, tugging Florida behind him. Brazil and Mexico stand at each of Russia's sides, trying to lean into him.