Overtime - rusger fic

Overtime- part 11

Russia sat at his desk, cleaning out his gun. The tiny boxes of packed ammo laid on the table, patiently awaiting use.
It was a quiet, cold day. Breeze fluttering through the curtains while servants and chefs rushed around downstairs.

The ordeal with Ukraine hadn't blown over as of now. Everyone was talking about it. Talking about their safety and questioning if Russia was a good enough leader. It was scary. Nobody wanted a war, most of their income relied on trading with one another. Yet none of them had a say in what happened.

A low sigh escaped him as he clicked the final piece into the gun. He closed his eyes and leant back in the chair, dropping his arms to his side. His ushanka rested aimlessly on his head, not falling nor holding itself up. It was a tired day.

But he too, was tired. Really, really tired.

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"One more. That should do it."

Germany took another breathless gasp as he held his shoulder. He took another few steps back before lining himself up to the door again.

The whole house seemed to jump as the gold hinges on the door finally snapped. Sending the heavy wooden frame onto the floor.

Ger groaned and rolled onto his back, holding his bruised shoulder with his free hand.

Two days. He was locked in there for two days. So much anger has boiled up in that time, the opposite to what Russia was hoping for. He was hungry, exhausted, and wounded.

Deep breaths now. You've come this far.

He propped his elbow up on the door, taking a slow exhale before getting onto his knees.

God, it hurt. His body was begging to collapse onto the ground. But with one final heave, he was standing upright.

One foot after the other, he walked to what he thought was Russia's office. Getting a murmur and a whisper from passing maids as he walked past.

He stood at a door he remembered quite well. He had wandered in there once before. It clicked to him almost immediately who's it belonged to. Heavy oak bookshelves, stacked full with books of all colours. A table laced with gold, a vase or two, and an indescribably soft chair. The room itself had Russias scent, too.

His hand was shaking a little when he turned the knob of the door. It clicked. And with the gentlest of pushes, swung open to reveal Russia.
Vodka bottle in hand.

A disappointment grumble left Russ as he lowered the bottle from his mouth. Slipping further down the chair as his arms dropped lower and lower.

"Why are you here ?"

"To ask why I was locked in there for so long- and why you murdered your own brother-!"

He yawned and dropped the bottle onto the ground. It landed softly on the carpet.

"Just- why- why would you do that ?"

The german stood at the door way, tense and furious. Russ just wished he could avoid all this.

And surprisingly, he did. The alcohol finally took its toll, it made him feel dizzy enough to doze off, or pass out. Or something in between.

Germany let out a loud growl. He considered walking out of there and leaving, but something stopped him. Told him to go help russ despite how infuriating and disgusting his actions were. And sadly, he listened.

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Time skip, a few hours later.

Russ groaned and shuffled around in his bedsheets. His whole body hurt, head mainly. To the point where he could barely move.

He was about to roll onto his side when a soft palm on his forehead stopped him.

Germany was sitting beside him, with an unreadable expression on him while he checked Russia's temperature. He was quite warm. Which meant Ger had to stay there and babysit him for longer.

"Gerrr..?"
Russ mumbled. His accent showing through and slurring when he spoke.

Germany ignored him and wet a cloth at his side, carelessly smacking it on his forehead as he moved down to bandage his arms and legs. He could never understand how Russ got so many injuries in such a little time. The country below him hummed happily and relaxed. Enjoying being pampered by his favourite person.

It made Germany's face wrench up a little. He hated that Russ enjoyed this, that he thought his actions were suddenly forgiven. Ger stayed silent through everything, but Russ didn't seem to mind at all. He found it cute that the German cared enough to help him.

He roughly grabbed his hand and pulled it into the air. Quickly wrapping the bandage around his wrists, already disinfected and numbed by the medicine he put on it earlier. Another hum left the half conscious Russian, a dumb smile on his face as Germany took care of him. But Germany wasn't smiling. He had an almost black expression, but looking into his eyes he could tell that he was upset. Though it didn't seem to bother russ.

"There. I'm done. Go back to sleep now."

The German stood up to put the supplies away. He didn't want to talk to Russ at the moment, or ever again, really. But they were stuck in the same house, they slept in the same bed. There wasn't any way he couldn't.

"Lay off the alcohol, will you."
And with one last sigh, he left.

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okay okay so

the reason these are taking so long to publish and write is that I have no idea where this is going

So please, comment whether or not you want a happy or sad ending. It would help me so so much.

thank you for reading !