Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

(OPT. B) Chapter Fifty-Eight

TRIGGER WARNING

Negative self talk
Mentions and hints of self harm

~~~~~~~~

Russia woke up from his mid-day nap to the sound of something banging against a wall.

"Дерьмо!" (Russian: shit!)

Russia tumbled out of his bed, stumbling on the floor and running out of the room, knocking hard on the wood of Germany's door. The banging stopped and everything went quiet.

"Germany, I know you're in there," Russia said quietly, putting his forehead on the door. 

More silence.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong."

The doorknob rattled and Russia stepped back to avoid falling into the room. Germany stood in front of the little slit he made between the door and the banister.

"...what do you want, Russia?" Germany said.

Russia frowned and pressed on the door a bit, opening the crack wider. He lifted a hand up to Germany's forehead and touched the skin gingerly, making Germany flinch at the contact.

"You're doing it again."

"I deserve it-"

"Bullshit," Russia growled. "What happened? Who do I need to beat up?"

Germany grumbled, "Me."

Russia rolled his eyes and pushed the door open fully with his forearm, making Germany step back as he walked into the room. 

"What are you doing," Germany sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Russia didn't answer and instead walked past him to sit on his double bed, patting the covers to invite him over. Germany sighed, walking over hesitantly and sitting down next to him. Russia handed him a soft pillow which he immediately cuddled to his chest, burying his face in it.

"What happened, Germany?"

"Nothing," Germany said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"It's clearly not nothing if you're doing it again."

"It's not that big of a deal, Russia."

"But it is."

"It's not like I'm leaving marks or seriously injuring myself-"

"Yes, but what if one day you do?" Russia said quietly, his hand on Germany's back. "What if it gets out of hand one day and I'm not there to knock on your door?"

"It won't."

"But it could."

"But it won't."

Sitting in silence for a while, Russia stood up and ruffled Germany's hair, making the smaller grunt in surprise.

"I'm going to get some beers and ice cream for you, why don't you put on a movie?"

"What kind?"

Russia looked at the ceiling, "A german one. I need to work on my fluency."

"Have fun with that," Germany said humourlessly, picking up the black remote on his bedside table and pointing it at the TV mounted on his wall. 

Russia walked fast-paced down the stairs into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge by placing his weight on the balls of his feet, hanging on the handle and falling back. A rather childish tactic but Russia could still have fun sometimes.

He grabbed some beer cans (20, just to be safe) and stuck them in the bottom of a small basket hanging out on top of the silver double-doored fridge. The basket was hand-woven by Russia's grandmother when he was only a child and supposed to be used for gift baskets. He lifted a pint of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and nestled it snugly in the cans of beer, opening the cutlery drawer nearby and placing a spoon on top of the pink lid. As a finishing touch, he stole some kitkats from Belarus's section of the pantry (a decision he will probably regret when she comes in to scream at him in the morning) and stuck them in as well. 

As he closed the fridge he couldn't help but notice the magnetic letters stuck to the fridge. Usually, his dad arranged the letters on the top half to spell out the sentence tell me a joke. The family would take turns making short jokes on the fridge out of the magnets, often getting annoyed when they ran out of letters half-way through a joke and had to start over. Everyone had been bugging USSR to get some more for a very long time but every time he went shopping he forgot again.

However, something was a little bit strange this time. The usual joke prompt wasn't there with Ukraine's joke under it (it was their week to put down a joke), instead everything had been jumbled up strangely.

The new letters spelled out:

whgm mknim axk. rhn dghp mhh fnva.

Russia felt a strange feeling ruminating inside of him from looking at those jumbled up letters, so he looked away and shook his head.

No time to worry about that now.

He grabbed the basket of goodies and walled back up the stairs, albeit rather quickly because the fridge creeped him out so much.

When he walked into Germany's room there was a dull light radiating off the tv, illuminating the dark room. His brother was bundled up in blankets as he mindlessly scrolled through the movie options.

"Find anything good?" Russia asked, putting the basket on the bed beside Germany.

"Not yet."

Russia grabbed two cans from his gift basket and handed one to Germany, who held it away from his face, squinting at it.

"Canned?" Germany chuckled, looking to Russia. "What kind of place are you running here?"

"I'm sorry we don't have beer on tap, your highness," Russia rolled his eyes with a smile, cracking open his can with a gentle fizzing sound.

"Then put one in," Germany said in a snooty voice. "Don't you know who I am?"

Russia raised an eyebrow, "An asshole that's about to have beer dumped on his head?"

Germany laughed and opened his own can, "Touche."

Germany put his beer down on the bedside table, pulling out the ice cream wedged in the middle and popping off the lid, sticking in the spoon and scooping a bunch into his mouth.

"So, when you're done chewing that," Russia chuckled. "Want to tell me what happened to make you act like this?"

Germany held up a finger while he let the ice cream melt before he swallowed. Russia just waited patiently, grabbing the remote from Germany's lap and flicking through some more movies.

"I screwed things up with Poland," Germany said once he was done.

"How?"

Germany sighed and sat back against the head board.

"Everything was going great. Poland and I were having a great time on the date, he was amazing as always. But. Near the end of the date. We were talking about random things while I was driving him home and somehow we got to the subject of...his wings. I told him how much I missed them. I asked him what happened to them. Poor thing was shaking and I didn't even notice."

He retreated into his blanket more, sucking on his spoon, "Next thing I know, he asks me to let him out of the car. We were no where near his house.  It he seemed really adamant so I just...did."

Russia rubbed his back, pulling him into his side. Germany whimpered involuntarily and snuggled into his side, desperate for some kind of comfort.

"I ruined everything-"

"No you didn't. Poland is strong and smart, he knows you're basically the best thing in his life. He's not going to let you go."

Germany took a shudders breath and scarfed down some more ice cream.

"...I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," Russia chuckled.

He finally found a movie they could watch; one about a young girl who makes friends with a wild horse and shocks everyone at a horse show with their amazing skills.

"Now we are going to watch this heartwarming movie about this girl and her horse and you're going to eat all the ice cream you want. Plus I've got more beer if you need it. Ok?"

Germany smiled softly, melting into Russia's side and sticking more ice cream in his mouth.

"Ok."