Stalker | ThirdUnion

33: That's Okay

Reich stayed silent as he kept his head low. He hadn't moved since he had sat down here. And he wasn't planning on it either.

He was alone in his room. Sitting silently at his vanity, his head laid on his folded arms, as he stared off into nothing.

He liked being alone. Being alone was so much better than being with Soviet. So much better.

He wasn't sure how long he sat for, but at this point, he didn't care. He felt like sleeping, he wanted to rest his eyes but he couldn't. All he could do was sit and stare at nothing.

And eventually, he heard something. The door, the door had been opened, and a stupidly tall country had walked into the room.

Reich didn't need to look up to know who it was. Who else would it be?

He nearly jumped as he felt a hand land on his shoulder, which soon moved down to rub his back gently. Perhaps the Russian thought he was asleep.

And indeed he did think that, as he leaned down closer to his love, and tried to wake him up gently.

"It's time to get up dear, dinner's almost ready." The Russian whispered softly, as he continued to rub the German's back.

Reich didn't move, he didn't have the energy to do so. His hand still beeped at him, as blood was pulsing through it.

Soviet didn't seem to mind how silent his love was being. So despite Reich's unresponsive self, Soviet eventually ended up picking him up, and carried him off to the dinning room for dinner.

Reich was placed down at the end of the table, he could only guess that Soviet would be sitting next to him, as that seat would be the head of the table.

The Russian left him there and went off to the kitchen, probably to finish up dinner and bring it over to him.

Reich stayed seated, unable to move himself. He stared down at the table, and counted the plates silently. Seventeen, seventeen plates lined the table.

Reich let his eyes wander, looking at whatever he wanted to, which excluded Soviet of course.

A couple minutes passed and the table was eventually full of food. Reich watched silently as Soviet brought over dish after dish. Setting each of them down in a nice order, the dishes clanked as they hit the table, before another smaller clank would follow after them, as Soviet would put a fork or spoon next to the dish to serve it.

Soviet placed one last dish down as one of his younger children ran into the room. An eager look on his face as he saw the large amount food.

But Soviet stopped him before he could reach the table, and said something in Russian to him. The child grumbled but eventually turned around and ran off, most likely to go get his other siblings for dinner.

Soviet turned to look at Reich, a little smile landed on his face as he saw his love. But it flattened rather quickly as he saw Reich's dead self.

He hummed softly and walked over to the other. He stared at the German who would not look back at him.

The Russian moved his hand down to the other's face, and scraped off some of the dried blood that laid there.

Eventually he pulled away and left, leaving Reich all by himself. But it wasn't for long, as many countries soon began to enter the room.

Reich began to feel overwhelmed again as so many people suddenly appeared and began fighting over who got to sit where for dinner.

Soviet eventually sat down next to him, no longer wearing an apron. He watched silently as his kids ran all around the place. Eventually they would settle down, but it would take a moment for them to do so.