21:Defenseless

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How could someone do this?

There was a mellow sound in the air, as a TV faintly played some show.

How could someone ruin someone else's life so easily?

Besides the television, the house was often silent for so many people being in it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

Reich held his blanket close to his face, as he stared at the ceiling. He stared off into a void of nothingness, as he avoided every moving thing around him.

He hadn't moved much himself since Soviet had placed him here.

Not since Soviet had moved him back to the couch from the bathroom. Not since Soviet had forcefully fed him dinner that night.

The German didn't have the energy or the will to move.

Soviet spent a lot of time next to him unfortunately. Though luckily he stayed on the floor, as he didn't want Reich to not have enough room to lay on the couch. JE didn't have a very big couch, she didn't need one.

Speaking of the country, she wasn't doing too well, Reich knew that.

It was hard to ignore the screaming that would happen at least once everyday. It was hard to ignore his friends' voices.

For what reason they were being tortured, Reich didn't know. He didn't understand. He hadn't done anything wrong, yet here Soviet was hurting his friends.

Reich tried everything to get him to stop.

He was on his best behavior. He was trying his damn hardest to look happy too, as he thought that's what Soviet's sick mind wanted.

He stopped fighting Soviet when he tried to feed him, he ate willingly. He didn't complain about being tied up. He didn't complain about the duct tape around his hands, arms, and legs.

He tried to be cheerful when Soviet gave him access to the TV. But still, Soviet went on hurting his friends anyways. Just hurting the German must not be enough to satisfy his sadistic craving.

"Chocolate?"

Soviet raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Reichy from the floor.

He held one of the German's hands, which was just another attempt from Reich to keep the man calmer and less dangerous.

"Chocolate, hm?" Soviet hummed at the idea of the treat before shaking his head.

"No dear. Even if we did have any you wouldn't be getting some, you need to be eating well for our baby." Soviet was smiling by the time he finished speaking. Gingerly he placed a small kiss onto the German's hand that he held.

"But I want it." Reich spoke lowly, and sank into the couch tiredly.

"But you can't have it." Soviet huffed and squeezed the German's hand tightly and harshly, though in his mind it was in a loving manner.

Maybe he should have Italy cook today. Reich hadn't been doing much, and maybe finally seeing one of his friends would brighten his spirit.

Soviet suddenly stood up, and Reich let go of his hand as the other began to do so.

The Russian stopped for a moment, just to stare down at the German who laid on the couch, luckily Reich had a blanket to cover himself. As Soviet's staring was making him so incredibly uncomfortable.

But thankfully the Soviet eventually waddled off, after giving the German a little kiss on his head.

Reich stayed on the couch as he nervously watched Soviet walk upstairs.

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