Book 4 - Spring

VI - Bruises

Russia wakes up to coughing. At first, he doesn't think it's worth getting up for. He flinches when he hears familiar voices begin to panic.

'I'm just imagining things again,' he thinks, covering his face with his aching paws.

Two small, warm hands brush against the almost bald patch on his side.

"Ruby?"

Russia squeezes his eyes shut and he starts shaking.

'I'm just making it up again. I have to be.'

"How did we get up here?" Russia hears Ukraine's voice ring from in front of him.

'But if it is fake, maybe it's better I just listen. I don't... I don't want to open my eyes to the dead stares again. Not ever again.'

"Russia? Can you hear me?" America asks, sounding frantic.

Russia takes a shaky breath.

"Rue?"

America's desperate tone forces Russia's eyes open. He hesitantly moves his paws and sees America standing in front of him.

America is standing in front of him.

Russia immediately buries his face into America's chest. He doesn't notice the way America flinches at the force. Emotions swirl violently in Russia's chest and he desperately searches for comfort. He tries to stand to get closer, only for his back legs to give out under him.

Russia meows loudly, again and again.

'You're actually here. You're okay! You're okay. You woke up. You're okay.'

"Woah! Rue-Rue, it's okay! It's okay. I'm okay," America soothes, brushing back his fur.

Russia pulls away and watches the crowd. He spots that all of them had woken up, some more comfortable than others. Many of them have scratches on their faces that drip blood down their cheeks. Brazil has a black eye, and many others have other facial bruises that seem to grow from nowhere.

Russia's heart drops. He watches with dread at how most of them move stiffly as if trying to avoid irritating injuries. His breath catches when he sees Texas weakly pulling up a sleeve of his jacket to show bruising on his arms.

"Where did this come from?" Texas asks no one in particular, his voice hoarse, "it wasn't here a second ago."

"I don't know," Alabama says, gesturing to Mississippi, "but we're pretty banged up too, so it ain't just you."

'They were getting hurt.'

Russia slinks back and whines. He covers his face again and backs up. His tail curls under him and he wants nothing else but to be able to apologize.

'I hurt you. I hurt all of you.'

"Ruby?"

Russia pulls further away, trying to disappear.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt any of you. I just got so tired.'

"Ruby, hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"

Russia turns away, hiding his face in his front legs, which burns with cuts. He feels some of the injuries re-open but pays them no mind.

"Woah. Russia, you look like you're scratched up too. Did something happen?" Finland asks.

'I'm fine.'

'I hurt all of you.'

"I don't know about y'all, but this feels like some of them time shenanigans again," Texas comments with an unsteady voice, rubbing his arm.