War's Edge

The Price of Freedom

Russia kept tap, tap, tapping his fingers against the table restlessly. Ukraine was far too nervous to ask how her little brother was due to her boss' command. Belarus had already come to the conclusion that someone had pissed off her big brother, and when she found out who, she'd definitely be grateful for the extra pair of clothes in her suitcase. Seeing as the Baltic States hadn't been forced to attend with Russia, Latvia and Estonia relished their time away, so they wouldn't show up for another fifteen minutes. Lithuania, on the other hand, showed up ten minutes earlier than planned for the trio, so he could grab the seat next to Belarus.

As for America, he had specifically gone early to get the seat he wanted. He was thankful to see that England wasn't in the break room making tea and assumed the old Brit had woken up late. Romano was grumpily napping in said designated break room for countries, and Spain was giddily taking selfies with the Italian in the background.

He passed them, still wearing his best Hollywood smile. To him, it didn't really matter which seat he got, just as long as he left early enough to ditch Mr. Cox. The man had pissed him off too much, especially considering America was already fighting off the urge to kill. Not that he wanted to kill. He just needed to feel the reassuring feeling of emotions like remorse and happiness. He needed to know he wasn't totally gone. He was addicted to emotions.

As usual, when he entered the meeting room, he noticed some people were already in their seats. Austria and Hungary were conversing, Netherlands was wiping down his seat and the surface of the table, and Germany was yelling over the phone. America could hear snippets of his conversation with Italy, asking how he had gotten lost when the hotel was across from the designated meeting area. However, what America found unusual was that Germany flinched when he passed him.

"Are you okay, dude?" he asked.

"Ja," Germany uncharacteristically mumbled.

He ignored the strange behavior and moved on to his seat. Canada was already there, but America didn't notice until he smelled overly-sweet coffee. Sure enough, his brother was sipping coffee filled with maple syrup. He sat down next to Canada and brooded over his own lack of coffee.

A shadow slowly crawled over them. Canada squeaked, pleading for Russia to not sit on him. Fortunately, the Russian just leaned down to be face-to-face with America.

"Fredka. You were not at meeting long. I wondering where you went...?" Russia eerily chimed.

"I got busy."

Russia chuckled, eyes dark with mounting anger.

"I do not like lies, Fredka~"

Out of the corner of his eye, America saw Latvia cheerfully skip into the room then immediately turn around to ditch it. America glared at Russia, still trying to force his smile to remain.

"My government needed me for a few tasks, so I completed them. Do you have a problem with that?"  America hissed through clenched teeth.

The little bracelet promptly gave him a small shock. At this point, it didn't hurt all that bad—he merely shivered, but his emotions had been wiped clean. The little smile on Russia's face twisted into a frown.

"Let's leave this for later, commie. I'm busy, and that's that. Keep your nose in your own business," America enunciated.

Russia smiled and nodded, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts and feelings. America glared at him until he slinked back to his seat. Satisfied, he slumped into his own seat and thrummed his fingers against the table.

Other countries flooded into the room, chattering away in groups until they gradually dispersed to their seats. Germany's presence quieted most of the conversations as he counted each country. As usual, some would be missing, and some had never shown up, so he only really counted the usuals. After counting, he furrowed his brows and cleared his throat.