Book 1 - Puppets

VIII - Quiet Goodbyes

Russia is really beginning to hate this plan.

He'd already spent a good hour trying to think of a better solution, but America's mind is made, and he isn't backing down.

"I want to protect them," America would defend.

"It shouldn't be at the cost of your safety."

"I don't care about that. I care about trying to protect my kids."

Russia reluctantly helps Canada rig America with as many microphones and tracking devices as they can. New York calibrates each piece as they are attached, connecting them to his laptop and setting them to record.

Even then, Russia isn't sure if the devices would even work. He would have to "Hope for the best," as America put it.

'What if this didn't work? What then?'

He didn't know.

America insists that they follow through with his plan as soon as possible, but considering that the sun is beginning to set by the time all the devices were in place, it doesn't seem very smart.

Even still, when Russia tries to argue, his concerns are waved off with a confident smile.

"Nighttime is the BEST time, Russ. Monsters love the dark."

After America is bugged, New York tests the GPS connection on his laptop, which takes a few extra moments to load. Once it's successful, they join the others for dinner.

On any other day, the smells from the kitchen would've been interesting. But now, Russia finds himself just picking at his plate.

A few of the states ask him "what's wrong?"

Russia just shakes his head at the questions.

After the sound off and everyone is seated and served, America takes a deep breath and stands up.

"I have some very important news!" he announces.

The states quiet down. America offers a grin with a few too many teeth to be genuine. Russia's stomach twists.

"I have decided that we can't just wait around until more countries go missing or while you all are in danger," America exclaims, "I had Russia, Canada, and New York help put some listening and tracking devices on me, and tonight, we are going to figure out what's actually going on."

As soon as America finishes his speech, objections rise from the crowd, the loudest of which came from Dixie.

"Are y'all crazy?! I ain't never heard of somethin' so fucking insane!" Dixie hollers.

The states voice their agreement, slamming their fists on the table and jumping out of chairs.

America scowls.

"I have already made my decision. I can't wait here anymore! I can't stand by with my children in constant danger. Several of you have already been attacked!" he yelled, his hands flying in the air.

The states stare in disbelief.

"I'm leaving tonight," America finished, stomping his foot as if to punctuate the sentence.

"You're leaving?" Alaska asks quietly, tears in her eyes.

A state pulls her into a hug, looking displeased.

Everyone in the room glances at each other in horror, their faces twisting with expressions of anger, worry, and distress. Russia feels the knot in his chest tighten.

"What if this don't work?" one of the states asks, with broad shoulders and a red border outlining his face.

America grimaces for a moment before his expression turns to a smile that contorted his cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. It'll work. I promise," America assures him.

Alaska stands up and runs to America, latching onto him.

"Stay safe, daddy. Please," she mumbles.

The rest of the states walk over, and America gives every single one a tight hug. He smiles gently and wipes away the tears from their cheeks.

The provinces and Canada give him a group hug. America chuckles and ruffles Nova Scotia's hair.

Dixie smacks America's shoulder before giving him a tight hug, muttering something that Russia can't hear.

Russia walks up, unsure of what to do, and America pulls him into a hug, which he quickly returns.

"You shouldn't be doing this," Russia remarks quietly, pulling back.

America looks up and gives a gentle smile with watery eyes.

"Hey, do me a favor? Make sure things don't fall apart?" America asks, hands fidgeting by his sides.

Russia gave a swift nod.

'This feels way too much like a final goodbye,' Russia decides.

Nausea floods his system. America places a hand on Russia's shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay, dude. You look like you're gonna be sick."

Russia forces out a laugh in response. It grates against his ears. America smiles painfully.

"I'll be okay. And I'll be back before you know it," America assures him.

'Are you sure?'

Russia returns to his seat and sits quietly, pushing around the food on his plate.

America laughs loudly from the end of the table. Russia's eyes swivel up at the sound.

"Lighten up! Come on," America says, a tight smile stretching across his face, "I'll be fine! 'Sides, I won't be gone forever."

Russia sees that every face but America's is marred with deep frowns and teary eyes. Most of the states don't even look up, instead choosing to stare down at the plates in front of them. America sits back down, his shoulders sinking.

The silence is stifling, but Russia knows that he isn't going to be the one to break it. He quietly clears his space before standing in the entryway, hoping to get one last chance to intercept America before he leaves.

He is followed there by what feels like the rest of the dining room. America walks up to the entryway with a small bag on his back, filled with what Russia hopes is supplies. America offers a small smile, and Russia tries to return the gesture.

America gazes over the group before focusing on Dixie.

"You got it from here?" America asks with a nervous grin.

"I was gonna say this is a bad idea and that you're an idiot, but yeah. I got it from here. You'd better come back safe, or so help me, I'll hunt you down myself," Dixie replies, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

America chuckles as if he doesn't know how else to react.

America turns his attention back to the large crowd and raises a hand.

"Bye," America calls, giving a final wave before he turns to the door.

The front door opens with a squeak, and America walks out, disappearing into the dark.