A Price to Pay

Plan

"Hey, Vanya? You doin' alright, baby?" he asked, opening the bedroom door just enough to poke his head through.

The room was dimly lit, with the only light coming from the sunlight that had managed to find it's way through the heavy curtains, and a small desk lamp in the far corner of the room. And in that small pool of light, Ivan sat, writing on some documents and shuffling through papers.

He flicked the switch on the base of the tiny lamp off and turned in the chair, leaning back and rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Da, yes, I'm fine," Ivan said, ending the statement with a yawn.

Alfred rolled his eyes, responding with an, albeit sarcastic, "Obviously. Can I get you anything?"

"No. Really, I'm fine," he reiterated.

"Alright, if you're fine, then there's somethin' I wanted to talk with you about." America moved across the room, closing the door behind him. He straddled his partner, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and burying his face into Russia's scarf.

Ivan shifted in the chair a little, attempting to get them into a less awkward position. When he decided himself comfortable enough, he returned the embrace, nuzzling into Alfred's wheat-colored hair, taking deep breaths of the sweet, slightly smoky smell of his lover. "What is it, then?" he asked softly.

"I almost shot England at the meeting yesterday," he whispered, his hold tightening, only just noticeable.

Ivan leaned back, just far enough to see the top of Alfred's head. "You did? Why?"

"Because," Alfred mumbled and shrugged.

"Fedya, talk to me," he pressed quietly, pulling the other closer to him.

Alfred took a shuddery breath before beginning.

==

Alfred walked into the meetingroom, looking around at the countries already assembled there. His eyes caught briefly on his family, then on his two best friends, and finally on the empty podium. Odd, he thought, I'm late. Shouldn't Germany be here already?

Before he could contemplate this further, his thoughts got interrupted by an annoyed (and equally annoying) british accent. "Hey, America! You're late again, as usual," he complained, drinking from his typical, ever-present teacup, then added "Idiot," muttered to himself.

The American sighed, then went to sit on the other side of his brother, staying as far away from Arthur as he could while remaining in his region's designated seating section. He loved his elder brother-figure, but he had to be in the right mind to tolerate him for very long, and today he was not. Hell, he'd rather sit closer to Cuba right now; he could openly fight with that guy without raising questions or suspicions, at least.

"I think we should call this meeting to order!" someone called over the drowning noise of many different conversations and arguments. The room soon fell quiet, save for the sound of the Italian traffic outside.

"We're still missing the host country," he added in helpfully. England scoffed.

"We're well aware, America, thank you. But, since it's already ten minuted past, we might as well move on without them and fill them in when they get here."

Switzerland stood, opening up a yellow folder and pulling out a clipboard. "Alright, since I've been given a copy of today's agenda and main points, I'll be taking over until the host can get here. The first to speak is England." He motioned to the podium and sat back down, setting the clipboard down on the table in front of him.

Arthur stood and walked up to the stand, smoothing his suit jacket out as he went. "Alright, since I'm first, and I am the one who originally moved for this meeting to happen, I feel as though I am obliged to lay out a summary of the events that brought this meeting into existence," he began. Alfred rolled his eyes, muttering "Self-ritious bastard," under his breath.

England looked pointedly at him before going on. "America poisoned my Queen."

==

"...And there was a bunch of fighting and it was total chaos. Then he started trying to attack me and he was yelling at me and-" his voice broke around a hiccough, and he stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I wasn't ready to deal with it. I didn't mean to, I really didn't. I just..."

"Broke?" Ivan supplied for the other's lack of words. Alfred nodded, then concealed himself within the other's scarf, hiding his fear and shame once more.

"Also, China's bleeding onto our guest bed. Be careful not to wake him."

~*~*~*~*~

I'm sorry that it takes me for-freaking-ever to update anything anymore but hey I finally got this done awesome