25 Ways Of Dying (CountryHumans RusAme)

Drought

Russia no longer felt America in his arms. But, he did feel.. warm. Hot, even. Much hotter than he was used to. After all, he was a cold country, not nessesarily one that belonged in deserts.

Except that's where he was now.

Russia sat amongst hundreds of millions of golden grains of sand, nothing in sight but more sand and the cloudless sky and searing sun above him.

"Russ-" A voice called, seemingly in a struggled way, "-I need help!"

Russia became alert as he perked up and slid around in the sand. He followed America's voice, soon coming to a sand dune - Russia saw a familiar silhouette have trouble in standing on the dune, picking himself up, then dropping again.

"You are pathetic," Russia teased, chuckling. He dug his feet into the sand as he climbed it on all fours, not risking making himself look stupid either.

Once Russia was up to America's height, he grabbed the both of his arms, and held him up straight. America still felt as though he'd fall, so Russia scratched the idea - he scooped America up, holding him to his chest, and slid down the sand dune.

They came to a slow halt, half in the shade. Russia rested his head against the sand behind him, huffing, as America tugged at Russia's sleeve. Russia looked down to America with an eyebrow raised.

"You.." America paused in his sentence, before sighing, and starting again, "You said there was something important?"

Russia nodded, "You have noticed that in each simulation we die faster than normal?"

America was silent for a second. He thought back to every one of them he could, only just realising so.

"Oh," America lifted his head, and curled up in a ball in Russia's lap, "Yeah... I see that. I guess you have an answer for it?"

"Do you remember tasting, or smelling something very sour?" Russia asked hesitantly, "That is cause of the sped up process, I think. It was originally supposed to keep you in simulation for limited amount of time, but that was if it went right. Which it did not."

America nodded, he wasn't sure why he needed to know that, but it was satisfying to have more information about the simulations.

"How was it directed at me?" America muttered into Russia's shirt, tired and exhausted, "Because, I mean, can't it have gone to like, another student?"

"I am not sure about that one," Russia shrugged, "My father is the scientist behind this.. since he can not really make appearance in public because of past, he does experiments."

America hummed, "Y'know, I'm still pretty tired. Do you think it'll be long until we're outta here?"

Russia closed his eyes, "Hopefully. Very hopefully."

Desperate to make conversation, or at least small talk, America moved in Russia's arms into a better position, so he was facing him.

"So you've been here?" America tilted his head, "In the middle of a desert?"

"Yes, I have," Russia confirmed, nodding, "It is funny story actually.. me and siblings wanted beach day, but father dropped us here instead. 'It has sand,' He said, 'Kids like sand'."

America giggled, shifting off of Russia's lap and sitting beside him. He wiped his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, ridding any sweat from himself.

"Jesus, it's hot here," America muttered to himself, "Kinda thirsty. And.. I'm guessing that because I'm thirsty it's just gonna speed up?"

"Very possible," Russia responded immediately, looking down to America through the corner of his eye, "But is okay. It is very - too - hot for comfort anyway."

America couldn't help but agree with Russia. So he lay there, letting his need for water get the best of him. He rolled over, everything going black.

And, obviously, a new place.