Darkness of Ours (RusAme)

Chapter 14

Russia's P.O.V

My seat jolted upwards, as the plane bumped against it's landing sight. The skin on my back was pressed firmly against the chair's padding. I could hear my partner beside me squeal in pain, whilst the start of his wings were pressed deep into the pillow behind him.

I quickly propped my arm in between him and the seat's spine. It seemed to help him a bit, for his screams had been reduced to hushed cussing.

"Fucking hell..." He uttered. The metal machine had stopped pushing us back, and was now moving at a steady pace to one of the airport off-loading slights.

His head defeatedly thumped on my shoulder. It was like all the anxiety of being separated from his few states had torn him down. That plus the flight had really exhausted him.

I couldn't say I was much better though. My eyelids drooped and felt heavy; a yawn was at the tips of my lips. Though that was to be expected, because it was how my health had behaved over the last month.

Always tired, stressed, and angry.

It wasn't a good combo, I knew that. I tried to keep it to myself intact for the states' sake, but my shell shattered sometimes.

"You okay?" I asked the American. My voice was hushed, yet my tone was caring.

His head twisted a tad, which made his untamed hair brush up against my neck. The interaction sent a lovely shiver up my spine.

He groaned, "It just hurts...like a lot."

My lover's face scrunched up, and I felt his fingers cling onto my shirt. It was rather painful, however, I let it slide.

"Shh," I started to run my hand down his back, while my irises watched him calm down. "You'll be okay. I can get you some medical attention once we arrive at the facility. Maybe they can make you something to protect your wings, so that they won't get hurt as much. Until then, try to stay strong. I know it's bad, but I'll get you help soon."

He nodded his head slowly, and I saw a swarm of people start getting up. Shoes clambered down the cabin, as people got their luggage from the compartments overhead.

He snapped his head away from my shoulder, as he readjusted the hat on his head, "Thanks. Anyways, we should head out soon."

The first word lingered in my mind for a moment, as a smile spread across my cheeks. I nodded, while I began to gather my supplies.

In order to board this plane, I needed to show the airport security my ID, along with my actual face. It was to monitor where I was at all times. Due to America's death, the whole world was put on edge, for, if a superpower of the world could die, what was stopping the same thing from happening to their own country?

It was easy to get America past without recognition after I was approved, since I claimed that he was my publishing manager. With the talk of me heading back to my homeland, it was an easy lie to buy.

As we exited the plane, we were both met with a couple security officers. One of them offered to find my luggage in the bustling bag reclaim sector, to which I declined. After all, America's stuff was in there too, and I didn't want any nosy officials snooping around in there. Even if that wasn't very likely.

Once the suitcase came, we headed outside and were met by a normal-looking car. I was told to get into it, while America was ordered to a different car. He didn't understand any of what the officers were telling him.