America the Mysterious (United States of America #1.5)

Through My Eyes (Part 7)

Now, a day had passed since Canada had ran away from America's colonial home, and since then refused to return there. The one who did go was Russia, merely because he was curious.

Now, the taller nation admitted that he wasn't the most stable of nations (but then again who isn't?), but if there was one thing he wasn't, he wasn't evil. Well, not evil, but he wasn't exactly a good guy either.

Like America.

Ever since learning of her true personality, Russia was fascinated. He never thought the nation he too thought was an idiot was that good of an actress. She even managed to fool him, and that was saying a lot. Though, ever since then, he couldn't describe the feeling he had for the female nation, especially after learning she was the mother of his child.

Was it affection? Jealousy? Russia couldn't be sure.

By the time he arrived to America's home, it was silent. It seemed as if the world stopped turning here, because even the insects didn't make a sound. Although a little uneasy, Russia walked to the front door, knocking a few times. No one answered, and Russia let himself in.

The house was a total mess. All the furniture was ripped to shreds and there was not a room were there was broken glass, destroyed furniture, and even blood.

It was alarming, the amount of damage two women could create in a day.

Was this what the American Civil War was like?

Russia continued on, appearing unaffected on the outside, until he arrived at America's bedroom. And low and behold, America was lying on bed, the only untouched object in the entire house, completely naked, and in a comatose state. Russia eyed her for a moment, noticing how scarred her body was.

So much scars, probably more so than Russia's own body.

The scars came in various shapes in sizes, but the one that caught Russia's eye was the scar that ran cleanly down her chest to her lower regions. It was even raw.

The scar of the Civil War.

Snapping himself out of his stupor, Russia worked to wrap up America's body, just before carrying her out of the house. She was pretty light, so it was easy to get her out of the messy home and into his car. Not once did she make a sound or twitched, but Russia didn't really mind.

"You really enjoy causing me trouble, don't you comrade?"

The day after, America spent the next couple of days in bed, as she was unable to sit up on her own. And ever since then, she had been staying in Russia's house, but she didn't talk to the man much unless she had to.

Russia didn't really mind.

When Latvia brought food and water for America, Russia came in after the shorter nation left. America was now staring out the window, watching as the snow fell all around. The only indication that she heard him enter was her occasional glance back at him.

"Why don't you tell me Amerika?" Russia asked, pouring himself a glass of vodka.

Finally, America looked at him. She remained silent.

"Tell me what you really think of me."

Stupid question he knew, and even he didn't know where that came from, but it was too late now. Once again, America said nothing, but eventually that silence was broken.

"I don't hate you," she began, "but I don't trust you."

"Oh?"

"You have done nothing to me, but I'm afraid that will not last. You are not a nation for nothing, and in fact, neither am I. Conflicts between nations is inevitable."

"What does that have do you with you not hating but not trusting me?"

"You should already know the answer to that Ivan Braginski. After all, you're older than even I am," America remarked, returning her attention to the window.

Russia did know the answer. He just wanted to hear it from someone else's mouth.

When you're a nation that's seen many, many wars, you tend to learn to be weary of those around you, no matter how trustworthy they were. Hell, he was like that with the nations that were not worthy of military attention, like the Baltics.

America clearly had no one to really trust (if you don't count Japan, the Baltics themselves, the Nordics, and even her own brother Mexico), and Russia knew the two of them were more alike than the other thought. Whether America saw it Russia didn't know, but it probably didn't matter. Either way, the facts were still there.

This is a cold reminder to them all.

"So that's a no?" Russia asked, feeling playful suddenly.

America just stared at him, unamused. "Yes and no."

She then left it at that.

I didn't add a picture because I couldn't find one that matched this chapter. Anyway, sorry this is so short. I'll try to make the next one longer.