Toleration [SovAme]

Nearly getting Killed (Again)

Soviet woke up, his head hurt like a motherfucker. He could feel his body being dragged along somewhere, he squirmed and a hushed voice he recognized hissed at him. "You'll fall off if you keep doing that."

Soviet immediately stopped. It wasn't like he could do much anyways, he was tied up too well to do much. He couldn't even see, so what was the point of possibly dying. He was being dragged on his back which hurt significantly more than his jaw. He could just about hear wind and trees, but he was definitely on something hard, he just couldn't tell what it was. Normally the knife sand guards stopped this exact scene from happening so he'd never actually been kidnapped before.

But Soviet kept trying to place that voice, besides his constant wincing every time his back was hit, that made it difficult for him to concentrate. But as the dragging went on for seemingly ages he couldn't think well enough to place a name or face to that voice. At some point he started being dragged over dirt and finally was hauled against a tree, sitting up, his back still hurt a lot though and he grimaced.

The person who had been dragging him along breathed heavily, and somehow that breathing seemed even more familiar but he still couldn't place it. "Can you let me go? Why did you kidnap me from my son's home?"

"Home? Bitch that was an illegal bunker. And no. I have some questions as to why Russia didn't tell anyone you were back, Soviet." His tone was a combination of annoyed and teasing, like this man couldn't help but flirt-Wait. He recognised that tone.

"What do you want from me America?" Soviet growled out. He hated that man with a burning passion for years, this wasn't going to change anything, in fact, it made his hate for the smaller man grow.

"As I said before, questions." Whatever was on Soviet's head was pulled off and he was blinded by the bright morning sun. Or maybe evening sun, night sun? The sun was on the horizon and incredibly bright.

Despite being blinded, he glared at America with his one eye. "What kind of Questions?"

"Well firstly, how long have you been back?" America seemed strangely calm and relaxed for a man who had just dragged a larger heavier man for ages who could most definitly kill him if given the chance.

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Jeese I'm not even threatening you." As Soviet's eyes adjusted he coudl see America leaning against a tree, moving his hands like he didn't know what he had done wrong.

"You stole me from my family, and tied me up."

"Yeah yeah. Look I know you can't have been alive for more than a month, your wings would be visible, and who knows how long Russia has been down there by himself."

Soviet just continued to glare at America. Also almost growling at him. He hid that much of his response to keep what little dignity he had in this situation.

"Oh come on, could you at least stop glaring at me?" America looked at Soviet like he was disappointed in him.

"No."

"Well now you're acting like a child Soviet."

"I'm not answering any of your questions America. Soviet looked away from America who moved around so Soviet could literally only see him.

"I'm not even being rude. Look I was hoping you would have information for me."

"On What? Your dad's lost stash of drug tea?"

"No." America looked serious, "A terrorist organization that's trying to kill every last countryhuman and in addition, remove human rights under their own unified nation."