Forget Me Or Forget Me Not | Countryhumans (RusAme)

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐭.𝐈𝐕

It didn't take long before they finally arrived at their destination. It was a warehouse of sorts, created solely with the purpose of housing supplies shipped in from the U.S to keep them safe from the weather. It was large, but made of the typical flimsy metal and wood that could only be expected. Food, medical supplies, clothing, weapons and ammunition were kept inside, but the bigger artillery machines like tanks and planes were kept outside. Those were to be sent out by Soviet soldiers down to Smolensk and Kiev along with the rations America was to hand out.

The task was fit for him, given he represented his country and it would only make sense for America to distribute the necessities brought by his country. Plus, it made for good reputation building and publicity.

But America was still in a daze about the revelation that this place - that looked so new and different from what he remembered - was once that sad underdeveloped city he had visited with his father all those years ago. Though of course, the city didn't look much better now, either. There was smog in the air and the citizens looked just as miserable as America remembers. It was as if nothing had truly changed and yet, the place was nearly unrecognizable from what America could remember. It was odd and - admittedly - a little unsettling. But he didn't have time to dwell on it as Russia soon began leading him into the warehouse where other Soviet generals and officials stood waiting for them. Behind them were crates undoubtedly filled with American goods and supplies and just off to the side was a small group of photographers.

The two made their way towards the other Soviets, exchanging greetings and shaking hands. Russia acted as the interpreter throughout their conversation in which America filled them in on what had been sent in the crates according to documentation sent to him a day prior. Guns, ammunition, grenades, meal kits, blankets, coats, boots, helmets, bandages, medical necessities, cotton, petroleum... the works. Whilst speaking, a line of trucks arrived soon after, ready to pick up the crates of supplies to bring them to the struggling soldiers. Each driver was a soldier from either the Soviet army or one of the American Air Force soldiers based around the country.

Of course, America met them with a smile, greeting each truck driver with a politeness that exuded American charm. He helped to load the supplies in with provided notes and information about certain medicines inside and food preparations. The whole time, however, America's skin prickled with the feeling watched. Fed up with that feeling, America was ready to give someone an earful - only to find a pair of ice cold eyes staring at him with such intensity that it sent chills down America's spine. Swallowing thickly, he ultimately opted to keep his mouth shut and turned back to continue handing out supplies. The chilly stare stopped soon after.

-

By the time each truck was sent off with the supplies, it was already late into the night. America couldn't help but yawn as everyone else left. He followed Russia to their designated vehicle and clambered in, sinking into the car's seat in a pile of exhausted limbs and sore muscles. He didn't doubt that he looked worse than when he started out the day, but he couldn't find it in him to care now. He just wanted to get back to the inn and allow his bed to swallow him whole.

The car ride was silent. Neither he nor Russia uttered a word to each other this time. Russia sat stiffly beside America, intense gaze fixed out the window.

-

December 8th, 1941

America was only supposed to stay until late July but ended up staying nearly half a year due to multiple reasons; there had been a constant series of German U-Boats sinking American ships, making it nearly impossible for America to get one back to the United Kingdom for further correspondence, then America had to flee Moscow in a bit of a messy evacuation when the Germans arrived in late September and soon after that, America had been swamped with papers and documents from the American bases in the country who were unsuccessful in reaching back to Washington themselves.

America was almost certain he would never even return home. But then it happened.

It came as a surprise and America felt dread pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He had still been attempting to reconnect back to Washington for the past week to no avail. But suddenly on that day, the radio buzzed to life with the voice of the Secretary of War in the States coming through. America had sighed in relief. But it didn't last long as he was soon met with the following news;

"This is Secretary of War Henry Stimson reaching out to the United States of America. This message is of the utmost urgency. You are required in the country immediately to assume your position as the U.S Major General.
Yesterday - Sunday the 8th of December - The Naval Base of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii was brought under attack by the Japanese. Today, at 12:30 PM ET, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt declared war on Japan."

Later that day, America found himself at a dock, waiting for the ship that would bring him home. Soviet and Russia stood with him, offering a very reluctant thanks for the support. Then, America boarded the arriving ship, offering a farewell and a bright grin, along with well wishes with the war. The pleasantries were not returned, but that was expected. America's gaze locked onto Russia's, who watched him from the ground. When their eyes met, Russia immediately averted his gaze to the ground as the ship began to pull away. America waved, but received nothing in return. He forced himself to look ahead once more, promising himself to come back once the war ended.

But that was the last time he and Russia would see each other as they had been again.