25 Ways Of Dying (CountryHumans RusAme)

Gas

America shivered - he slowly opened his eyes to a space what seemed to be an empty restaurant, he sat in an empty seat beside a dark window with a single candle in front of him. His gaze flickered from table to table, eventually finding Russia a few tables away from his one. America huffed and folded his arms on the table, burying his face in them.

"America," A hand was placed on America's shoulder, "You are exhausted?"

America nodded slowly, as he listened to Russia take the seat opposite him. Russia placed a hand on America's, and stayed silent.

"We will be out soon," Russia reassured him once again, "I promise this is one of the last, yes?"

"We said we'd be out soon awhile ago," America grumbled, his arms muffling any sound, "And we're still here. I dunno if we're even gonna get out."

"Listen to me," Russia sighed, "My father is crazy scientist, no? He will get us out. He can not risk having police after him, and his own son stuck here."

"C'mon," America shrugged, and winced, "You don't even know if we're getting out. Probably gonna stay here for so much longer than we have already, by several times."

Russia growled, taking America by both of the shoulders instead, "You have not met my father, yes? My father will get us out. He will. He is insane. God, he knows how to disappear without trace when he gets in trouble. But he will get us out. He will."

America didn't respond. He instead shook his head, tapping the table with his free hand. Russia stayed in his position before hesitantly letting go of America's shoulders, falling back in his seat.

"I guess father chose wrong, then," Russia shrugged, causing America to look up at him slightly.

"What? What do you mean?" America asked in response, furrowing his brows.

"Father chose you because he knows you are very resilient, very courageous country, yes?" Russia pointed out, pausing, then starting again, "Right now you are proving him wrong. You are giving up, America."

"Yeah, I am," America agreed, making Russia tilt his head in question, "It should've been someone else. I clearly, am not, was never the right country for this. It's great to know I let someone down."

Russia froze, instantly regretting what he had said before. America buried his head in his arms again.

"If your dad got a better country for the job, you would've gotten someone with more resilience and more courage too," America mumbled, "You would've gotten someone better than me-"

"Shut up," Russia growled.

"-and yet here I am, I guess," America continued to speak, "You're a lot braver than me. You actually know what you're doing. I'm not the smartest, I don't know if you realised that."

"I said," Russia said through his teeth, "Shut. Up."

"No," America shook his head, "Because we both know that you could've gotten someone so much better than me."

Russia slammed his hands down on the table, America didn't bother to look up.

"You are the only one who has wanted to have a conversation with me," Russia almost shouted, "You are the only one who wanted to be my friend! The only one who has cared for me - the only one I have really fallen for."

Russia watched America for a reaction he didn't get. Russia huffed, and moved to America's side, pulling him into an embrace.

"We will get out of this place soon," Russia whispered to America, "When we get out, we are going to be happy, we are going to do what we want, we will win this, yes?"

America still hadn't replied. Russia noticed a wisp of what seemed like white smoke seep from the floorboards beneath them, he growled. Gas.

Russia stared at the cloud which grew larger by the second, it soon began to mix in with the air he breathed.

Russia began to frantically cough at the gas, stumbling to the ground, losing his oxygen supply.

Before he knew it, there was a new place before him.