Toleration [SovAme]

Soviet becomes a Cyborg

Soviet was not looking forward to America flying them. After all, could he really trust someone who lay on the floor for 2 days barely responding to him, to fly and land an airplane? He wouldn't put it past America to kill both of them either. After all, America still had a life left, he didn't have as much to lose as Soviet did.

The more Soviet thought, the less he liked the idea of getting into an airplane with that idiot. Soviet sighted, trying to think more positively. Maybe he could lay down on the flight so his back could get a break. It still hurt like hell when he lay his back on any seat and at least on a private airplane he'd have a chance to lay down and be in less physical pain. He'd still have the mental strain but hopefully it would overwhelm him less than normal.

Soviet groaned internally when he saw the airplane. It was really really small. Like, it could probably barely hold both of them. On the plus side it looked fast, but Soviet had no clue where they were going and he was not looking forward to several hours inside the plane with America.

America seemed to fawn over the airplane, speaking way too fast for Soviet's brain to comprehend, all on a high pitched noise, hugging the thing and smiling like an idiot at it. Clearly he had a mental attachment to the plane, so the chance of him crashing it seemed less likely than before. Still, he was not liking the odds.

Next thing he knew the plane was shaking as it took off. He was on his stomach laying down towards America. He actually had no choice on the matter. There was no seat for him to sit up in. Isn't that great? The plane was really only meant for one person but America claimed he had redone the engine so it could hold two people. That way he could surprise people.

Also, America kept calling it Bessie. He named his airplane. If it wasn't so in character; Soviet would have been more worried about his safety. But America had named it meaning he was attached which was great for Soviet. Unless the panel he was in could go down to allow the surprise person to leave the plane easily. Soviet would not put it past America to have out that in his plane.

Nonetheless Soviet was in a Shaky plane up in the air being piloted by America. What a wonderful time for him to be alive.

"Hey Shit face." America was yelling meaning it must have been towards Soviet.

"What Barf Bag?"

"You're gonna drive us to the place. I've got an address and good maps and my own fake eye so it's not suspicious. I'm getting my own eye checked out if Onyx Corporation decided to look that deep."

"Alright. Don't crash us Capitalist Pig."

"Wasn't planning on it commie fucker!"

They proceeded to have the rest of the flight in silence, Soviet going into his head and America flying the plane manually, or at least, that's what Soviet believed he was doing, not like he wanted to pay attention to the capitalist anyways.

When Soviet landed there was a blur of confusing directions, parking in a crowded parking lot, before stumbling into a large white building. Obviously, the hospital they were going to.  It didn't seem the cleanest, even by his standards. This hospital definitely needed much more funding than it was getting.

"This is where I'm getting surgery?" Soviet was not impressed in the slightest, naturally, America picked up on this.

"Yes. Do you want to be able to see out of your other eye? I'd say it's a pretty good advantage compared to where you are now."

"This place looks like it's full of disease."

"Actually all hospitals are full of disease," America chirped at Soviet with a smirk.