(read desc.)Countryhumans Oneshots

(1)M!Russian Empire x M!Colonial America(R/HC/LF/AU)

An AU. A long AU. Historical events and objects used will most likely not match up, but I am more focused on the general timeline. Happy readings.
Note— please do not ask when part 2 is coming out. It comes out when it comes out and I have quite a bit on my plate and with writer's block and constant issues with focus and motivation you can't blame me

Word Count: 3,472 words

Colonial America sat there frozen on the muddy ground, constantly being beaten down by the downpour of rain. He couldn't believe it. He'd lost. He'd lost the war. His only chance at freedom and prosperity, and he had lost it all. The rain drowned out his quiet cries and hid his tears.
He doesn't know how long he's been like that, but when he finally gathered his scattered emotions together and rose to his feet, he staggered a bit and his knees ached horribly. He winced but didn't care. He'd just went through hell and lost, what's this little pinprick got to compare? Colonial America dragged himself along the now empty battlefield, his "father" having already left him to properly reclaim his territory. When he found a village, he had simply wandered through it aimlessly, not really looking for much. It was in total chaos, with British soldiers everywhere and gunshot sounds being heard everywhere from noncompliant people.
"Hey! You there!" a voice suddenly sounded behind him. Colonial panicked and bolted, running as fast as he can from the soldier now chasing him shouting.
The Native American had raced through the trees completely ignoring everything that hurts. Eventually he collapsed against a tree from exhaustion, having lost them long ago, but he just wanted to be safe.

He doesn't know how long he'd passed out for—minutes to days being in and out of consciousness, he doesn't remember. He looked around wearily before slowly rising to his feet, wincing and whining slightly at the stiffness and soreness of his muscles. He stumbled through the woods aimlessly, zoning out as he did with nothing much to do.
Colonial America let out a broken sigh. He misses Russia terribly, more specifically the Russian Empire. His grandfather, Muscovy—the Grand Duchy of Moscow—had colonized a western portion of his home, but that had been over a couple centuries ago now. He's never met his elder brother, as he was born on the other side of the continent and thus never could have met him, especially since he's dead now. He's met Russian Empire through some distant trade deals and they made quick friends, which is what motivated Russian Empire to help Colonial out with winning his revolutionary war despite not wanting to get tied up in foreign conflict. He's only learned of his distant late brother from him who's heard about him from his own father, the Tsardom of Russia. Colonial America hasn't ever met any other Russian but Russian Empire, but he's told him some nice stories about them.
The small Native American somehow managed to find an abandoned cabin and heaved himself inside, dropping himself tiredly on a badly cushioned chair and sighing out heavily.

Colonial had stayed in that cabin for a couple weeks, just wanting to hide away from the ones who ruined his life and destroyed any chances at freedom. Colonial was debating on finally leaving the rundown cabin to see what's changed when he heard a knock on the door. Colonial America's anxiety skyrocketed as he stood there worrying about the possibility of a redcoat being on the other side of the softly creaking door hanging loosely on its rotting hinges. When he realized the door wasn't even closed he panicked and move to run and hide until a thickly accented voice he knew all too well stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Привет(Hello)?" Colonial peeked from around the half-wall that ends the hallway leading to the door. In the doorway—if you would even call it that anymore—stood tall a concerned-looking man, who seemed to be looking around for something. They made eye contact a split second after and Colonial's eyes widened and so did the visitor's.
"Rus..Russia..?" he stuttered. The Russian sighed a relieved smile and strode over to the smaller Native American boy.
"There you are...I was so worried when I heard the news. How are you holding up?" he asked worriedly with that thick accent that Colonial America found to be just beautiful. The young boy's face fell and tears started to well up in his eyes. "Oh no...no no no, don't cry, my dear Colonial..." the Russian Empire was quick to crouch down and gather him into his arms, shushing him gently as he let out his pent up sorrows and anguish out at once. Russia rubbed circles into his back while whispering comfortingly sweet nothings into his ear, which soothed Colonial America greatly and helped calm him down.
Once Colonial finally calmed down a bit, Russia picked him up and settled them on the old couch in the living room Colonial America was hiding in prior to his arrival. It had some holes in it and was severely lacking in cushion making it very hard and flat, but they didn't seem to mind. The Russian Empire held Colonial America close, and the boy curled up tightly in his lap and clung to the larger's shirt. His breathing was a bit labored and hitched every now and then but other than that he was much calmer now.
"...I'm sorry..." his tiny voice cracked, which broke Russia's heart.
"What for, my dear Colonial?" he murmured. Colonial sniffed and leaned closer in his arms.
"I let you down...I let ev—everyone down...everyone who tried to..to help me get my independence, to w-win the war...j-just for me to lose...I just wasted their time...th-they—they—" he choked a sob. "They just wasted their precious materials—als on m—me..." Colonial started crying again. Russia hugged them tightly.
"Sh..it's okay, my dear Colonial, it's okay...you tried your best, and that's what matters. You did go against the biggest superpower in the world after all, and that in itself is admirable. Even if you did lose, you came close to winning, all it took was a little push and you were free," he cooed softly, tilting his chin up gently with a finger so he would look at him, eyes glistening and glossy from freshly made tears. "I care about you very much, my dear Colonial. You could never let me down. I am very proud for all you have done for both your people and your allies and friends. I feel blessed to have someone as amazing as you." Colonial nodded and relaxed in his protective grip. The next moments of silence ensued.
"...Russia?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"What do I do now? Since I lost the war, Britain still has control over me, and...he's gonna punish me when he finds me again. I think that's why I was chased by a redcoat a couple weeks ago. That's why I fled here.." Colonial looked back up at him. There was a hint of worry and fear in his eyes and tired expression. The Russian Empire closed eyes, pondering on his question. When he opened them again Colonial America was still staring up at him with patient eyes. That's what he loved about him. He was always so patient and understanding. A precious dear like him doesn't deserve this kind of treatment the British Empire gives him. He deserves more, much more. Something he thinks is more likely achievable by the Russian Empire than anything the British one could possibly try. Russia smiled kindly down at him. He'd make that thought a reality, no matter the cost. Even if he dies first, he'll pass the duty down the family, until it is complete.
"I'll make sure Britain gets exactly what he deserves, no matter how long it takes. I believe the least you deserve is independence and basic freedom," he replied. Colonial smiled.
"You would?" Russia gave his forehead small peck, to which the boy responded with by a small giggle.
"Of course. Anything for my dear Colonial. Anything at all."