The Secret

Chapter 18

Romania walked home with him. Their talk was hushed as they passed people. Now that America had remembered what had actually happened, he could finally do something about it.

"Will you be all right?" Romania asked as thy stopped at America's door.

He gave a sturdy nod.

"You can't let anyone else know that you remember," he reminded America.

"I know. They'll do everything in their power to keep this world they've made."

Romania gave a quick nod of his head. "I will meet you tomorrow."

America gave a final nod before turning around and going inside. He took his jacket and shoes off. He set his bag on the small table in the front hall before walking to the bedroom. Before pushing the door open, he stopped when he heard quiet mutterings from inside.
He pushed the door open and looked to the bed. Russia laid in a tangle of the blanket, his eyes closed. Only when America was at his side did he notice the sweat the drenched his hair and his skin. Putting a hand to his forehead, he could've sworn he would have received a burn if he hadn't pulled his hand away.

"Russia?"

His expression was contorted as if had been searching for something. For someone, America realized. In his hand, clenched between his sweaty fingers, was the silver cross he had had earlier. America said his name in a soft voice several times, hoping he would hear him. That he could some how calm him down.

He untangled him from the blanket and laid it back over him, though not entirely. He listened to Russia's mutterings for a moment. A name in his language, mixed together with a few words.

"*Роза. Гди ты?"

Not once did he loosen his grip on the cross. America remembered it now. He remembered what that cross was.

He left the room to fetch some water and a cloth. He pulled a chair to the bedside and set the bowl of water on the nightstand. America sat and wiped away the sweat on Russia's skin.

America stayed by his side all through the night, listening to his mutterings that he couldn't cease.

He woke with his head resting on his arms on the edge of the mattress. His phone vibrated in his pocket until he answered it.

"America, where are you?"

"Romania?"

"Yes. You missed the meeting."

America looked to his watch to see the time well past morning. "Sorry. I was up late taking care of Russia."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know," he answered uncertainly. "Do you think you could come over? Bring a doctor or something with you?"

"On it."

"Thanks." The line ended and America looked back to Russia. He didn't seem to have gotten better. In fact, he seemed much worse.

When Romania arrived, he had a human doctor with him. America welcomed them both into the house and lead the doctor to the bedroom.
He waited anxiously for the doctor to come back from the room as Romania tried to calm him down.
The bedroom door closed and the man came out with a solemn expression. America just looked at him expectantly.

"There's nothing wrong with him."

"What do you mean, there's nothing wrong with him?" America said a bit loud.

"I mean, there is nothing physically wrong with him. Whatever he is suffering from, is being caused by something psychological, not physical."

He didn't know what to say, much less think at that moment. There was nothing he could do to help him. Nothing at all. How could that be?

While he was lost in his thought, Romania thanked the doctor and lead him out.

When Romania returned, America wasn't there anymore. He went into the bedroom and found America pacing at the foot of the bed.

"America."

He didn't look at him. He into continued to walk back and forth. Romania repeated the name with no reaction from the nation.

He pulled on the personification's shoulder to see him. "America, look at me," he demanded.

He looked at Romania, his eyes panicked. "I can't do anything!" he yelled in frustration. "This world messed up! Rose is gone!" His eyes watered. "And now I'm losing Russia!"

"You're not going to lose him," Romania tried reassuring him.

"How do you know that?" he shouted. "I promised them, Romania! I promised that I'd keep them safe! And now I'm losing both of them!"

Romania thought he was going to keep yelling. He wasn't sure if he'd stop before a few tears fell from his eyes. Romania put a hand on his shoulder as America's head fell into his hand.

"America," Romania said softly. "Russia's not gone. And if we do this right, we will get your daughter back."

He roughly wiped his face before looking up. "How?"

"By casting a spell of our own."

*Rose. Where are you?

Short chapter, sorry.