The American Dream: oneshots

A Toxic Love

Warning! This story will involve slight sexual context, a little bit of blood, and emotional abuse. If you are struggling with or have struggled with emotional abuse, please skip this story.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," America grumbled under her breath before knocking on the door. It had been a couple of months since World War Two and UN had asked her to check on Soviet. Despite her saying no, America was already on a plane heading over to Soviet's land. At least she was told to do whatever.

The door creaked open and standing right there was one of Soviet's sons...Russia?...with a look of confusion. The moment he saw America, his eyes widen and his face became a new color. He tried to say hello in Russian but America cut him off. She didn't have time for this shy child.

"Where is Soviet? Your father?"

"S-study." Russia struggled in English. America nodded and pushed Russia aside. She didn't know where it was but she didn't have time to ask. Besides, Soviet's children stepped aside when they saw her, almost afraid. So there wasn't a chance in hell that they were going to tell her.

As she walked up the stairs, America could smell the alcohol. That was all she needed to find him. She followed the smell, leading her to the last door in the hallway. Without much knocking and asking, she opened the door and noticed the bottle filled floor. The star Country rolled her eyes and walked toward the drunk weeping Country.

"Are you serious? Are you really drinking a bunch of potato water just because you were dumped?" Soviet didn't respond. He only quietly cried. America rolled her eyes and yanked the bottle away from his hands. "Hey. I'm talking to you."

"She was the one," Soviet whispered pathetically. "I was so sure she was the one."

"Oh boohoo. Third Reich broke your heart. You nearly destroyed her country in response. You should be happy."

Soviet quickly stood up and nearly grabbed America's neck. Luckily, she was able to dodge it fast enough. "You know nothing anything about heartbreak! You do not know how much she had meant to me! I loved her! I loved her. Just like Afghanistan."

Soviet fell on his knees, bowed down to her feet, and cried more. America just watched him cried like a child. For something like this, she would have told him to man up and get over it.

But she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

America kneeled down, placed the vodka bottle down, and rubbed Soviet's back. She just let him cry. Just let all his feelings out.

"I hope they like it," America said as she placed the large bowl on the large dining table. After letting Soviet cry his eye out, he had passed out and it was too late for America to travel back home. Soviet's children had given her a bed for the night for a trade for a meal. So she did that.

As the children came in and sat down, starting to pick portions, and America couldn't help but make sure they had enough to eat. Once they had gotten their food, America set a plate for Soviet. She had a feeling that he wasn't going to leave his room yet so she might as well go up and give him his food.

America knocked on Soviet's door but got no response. She knocked again and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited for five minutes. At this point, America couldn't take it anymore and kicked the door opened. Soviet jumped and gave her a death glare.

"Don't give me that look. You need the strength to take care of your kids and land. So man up and eat." She just placed the plate on his lap and started to leave the room. She was not in the mood to deal with him. Besides, she has a flight to catch. Just as she reached the door, she heard someone cleared their throat. She turned around slightly to see Soviet standing right there with the plate of food in his hand.