Wired||The Awakening arc

Bodyguard pt2

[Told from third person POV]
America was a bit confused by Russia's sudden concern since through basically all of this he's been acting as if he hated him, and rightfully so, but all that questioning came to an end when Russia turned away and went to bed, leaving America alone there to wander on his own.

America sighed and finally gave it a rest, walking over to Russia's couch to collapse on it. If he was being honest he didn't exactly have the intention of sleeping, relaxing now would leave him in a vulnerable enough state for Russia to capture him and bring him to the police station even if he'd be able to get out pretty easily, working on no food for two days, 3 hours of sleep within 3 days isn't exactly ideal fighting condition.

So there he sat, just thinking to himself as the quiet enveloped him.
.   .   .
He'd been walking for days through this tundra, his legs were wet and cold, with every gust of wind a new unbearable nip at his skin picked away at his hope of getting through this but it's not like he had the choice to go back now. 

America looked up at the sky, every snowflake that hit his skin felt like a cold tear running down his face, reminding him of the pain he went through to get here. He had no chance if he stopped here, 'keep pushing, keep walking, if you stop you'll die here' being the only thing keeping himself from collapsing on the fluffy white ground. 

America fell to his knees once he reached his destination, two miles later. finally the warmth of the sun peeked through the clouds, hitting his clothes and warming them up immediately, the breath of life and that's when he knew he made it.
.  .  .
 America found himself dozing off, it had been quiet for too long but he kept staring at the clock, counting the seconds until the night was over. That easily got old, needing a pastime to get through the night. With his new found energy America got up and continued to explore the house, making his way up the dark stairs quietly and to the first door down the left.

He slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door, it was dark, undecorated and mostly empty. There were a few boxes scattered but it looked as if it was just an unnecessarily large storage room. I suppose you'll have extra rooms when you live alone but damn what a waste of space this is. He flicked on the light and started looking through boxes, old broken picture frames without pictures, plenty of small trinkets and souvenirs from all over. He didn't think of Russia as the traveling type, that's what made this truly interesting.

He sat down and looked through one specific box, it was a wide box, tipped open with stuff and America wasn't shy to spill the contents on the floor.

It seemed to be a box filled with child things? Nothing really caught his eye but this one picture he picked up off the floor. 

It was a family of 5, Russia included. They were playing in the snow, dressed up in the warmest of clothes to keep themselves shielded from the harsh cold. America smiled, Russia was covered in snow, like he had been attacked with snowballs. America couldn't help but laugh a bit at his angered expression. 

"What are you looking at?"

A voice came from behind him, causing America to jump and scramble around a little bit to put things away
"Your stuff is not obvious?"
America retorted with a sly smirk but to his surprise instead of some sort of argument sparking between them, Russia sat next to him and started rummaging through the box, picking a few things up.
"I'll allow it to slide just this once since you have trouble sleeping like I do so I pity you. These are my toys from long ago, I keep them around because they're hard to let go of you know?"
Russia yawned, glancing over at America that stared at the box of toys then back at the little wooden soldier that he picked up not too long ago.

"No, I don't understand. Letting things go is all I do."
America furrowed his eyebrows. It was so long ago since he was young enough to play with toys but he remembers it. Not a happy one, Even being reminded of it now felt like a stretch in his mind.
"Enough with that. half of these toys don't even seem like yours. Why do you have them?"