No Longer Dust

Sauerkraut

"Oh, and we can put some paintings here on this wall, maybe a clock or something." It had been over three hours since Soviet had started cleaning the US' house and planning on how to decorate. The majority of that time had been spent picking up trash and taking it out. Despite being quite the small house, trash seemed to be endless. Now though, all of it had been picked up, the dishes had been done, the floors swept and mopped, and various other menial tasks that desperately needed doing.

"Baby, as much fun as it's been helping you, maybe we could take a break? It's been-" he looked towards the microwave's clock,"-almost 3 hours now!" Soviet considered the proposal for a second before letting out a short sigh.

"I suppose a break would be nice, sure," he complied. He plopped down on the boring minimalistic couch, leaning against it's arm. America sat down next to him, resting an arm over his shoulders. The red perfectionist snuggled to his side, US' arm moving down to hold his waist, cradling him close.

"Hey, it didn't dawn on me to ask till now but uh- what the actual fuck is that on the wall?" He waved his hand in the general direction of the TV.

"That's a TV, princess."

"Bullshit, it's too thin."

"Babe-"

"I just came back to life and you're already lying to me?"

"Baby please -"

"Bitch."

"Sovi I promise you that's a TV. I'll prove it to you."

"...Ok," Soviet agreed, nowhere near convinced that thing was a TV. The candy cane impersonator reached towards a smaller, more rectangular black box(the remote) and clicked the small red button. The sudden loud noise the TV produced made the small red bitch jump, an 'eep' leaving his mouth. "Maybe it is a TV."

"Mhmm."

"I wasn't even dead for that long, how the fuck did they change this much?" Stripe-y boy's eyes lit up, an excited smile spreading across his face.

"You're not gonna believe what happened to phones."

"Enlighten me?"

"Gladly. Now, you died in '91, so I don't have to go too far back. That's always nice." Soviet raised one eyebrow, a small pout forming on his lips. One that showed he wasn't actually mad, just feeling bratty.

"I'm happy my death is beneficial for you." The 'Freedom Bringer's eyes widened a comical amount; he was quick to move his free hand to his lover's jaw, an almost humoured, yet nervous chuckle making it's way into his voice.

"Princess you know I didn't mean it like that.."

-----------------------------------

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!"

"NO SHIT!"

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?!"

"WHY THE HELL'D I KNOW??"

"OH I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE BECAUSE YOU JUST DROPPED INTO MY HOUSE SAYING, AND I QUOTE, 'FUCK YEAH, FINALLY!'"

"DOESN'T MEAN JACKSHIT, I DON'T KNOW WHY I'M HERE!"

"YOU LITTLE CUN-"

"WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK IS EVERYONE YELLING?!" The German household was significantly more chaotic than usual, and it was pissing off the visiting Pole.

"Oh, sorry Polen, it's just that the 3rd Reich crashed onto my floor," Germany snarked at the winged country, beginning to think he may be blind.

"...I see."

"Do you now?"

"Ok look, you don't need to be a bitch about this Germ boy-"

"Don't call me that."

"-I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"Good luck buddy, neither of us know how this happened," 3rd chimed in, making Mr. Red n' White's head snap over to him.

"Shut up you kraut fuck."

"Ouch."

"Sorry Germs."

"Whatever. Look- Reich, do you know anything at all regarding why you're here? Are you the only one that's no longer dead?"

"Uh... I'm not sure, honestly. I don't have any ways of finding out."

"Thankfully I do," Germany mentioned, pulling out his phone. "We've got a groupchat for a reason."

"Groupchat?"

"You're right, we do. Go ahead and ask if anyone else has found dead people in their house."

"What is a groupchat?"

"I'm not saying that. I'll say something more like: the 3rd Reich is currently in my house, alive. Has anyone seen anything even remotely similar?"

"Please tell me what in fuck's name you're talking about."

"That sounds better I guess."

"What the FUCK is a groupchat??" Reich raised his voice, finally. The other two looked him over and then back to eachother, silently debating whether or not to tell him. He eyed them expectantly, genuinely curious as to how they'd answer. Or, really, if they'd answer.

"A groupchat is pretty self explanatory really, it's a chat for a group," Germany explained as if Reich were a child. Reich's face became one of pure, unbridled annoyance.

"No shit, fucking how??"

"The hell are you on about, by phones obvio... Ah. Right. You died in '45. You wouldn't know shit about jack, would you?"

"Nope, would you mind enlightening me, oh wise one?" Reich retorted, wriggling his head like an old animated Disney villain.

And so, Germany got him off the floor and onto the couch to begin the long process of explaining everything that happened after '45. This was gonna take quite a while.

"Hey Polen, would you mind grabbing two water bottles? I'll probably be talking for upwards of 5 hours-"

"5 hours?!"

"-Yes, 5 hours. You've been dead for over 70 years, I'm gonna fill you in on everything that happened since then to the best of my ability. Then, you're gonna tell us about wherever you've been for as long as you've been dead. You have been somewhere, right?"

"I- um. Yeah. I've been somewhere. I'd be happy to tell you all about where I've been. Did you know the Soviet Union is a malewife?"

"Say that again, but slower."

"Did you know. The Soviet Union. Is a malewife." He repeated, putting emphasis on malewife.

"Where the fuck did you hear the term malewife??"

"Oh, nowhere. I just combined two words that describe him. He's a male, and he acts like a housewife." This time, it was Poland's turn to chime in.

"What the actual fuck??"