Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

IV - Soft Laughter

"You f*cking idiot. Why the f*ck did you do that?" New York mumbles under his breath.

"Hey, calm down York-y. I think he healed enough for us to just try bandage this," California says quietly, putting a hand on New York's shoulder.

"I'll get them," Dixie volunteers.

"I'm going with you," Texas says.

Texas leaves Russia against the nearby wall. New Mexico and Texas follow Dixie out, staying close to the ground. They slowly open the door and close it behind them.

'Is he gonna be okay?'

Russia watches the door.

'Are they okay?'

'Are there more soldiers we didn't hear?'

'I hope they get back okay.'

America shakes against the floor, and Russia feels helpless. Canada slides over and tries to comfort America. Russia wished he could help. Help do anything. He opens his mouth to try to speak.

'It's going to be okay.'

"Is 'oin to ba ah-kay," Russia manages to mumble out.

'That was not what I was trying to say,' he thinks, frustrated.

"Russ?" America asks.

America tries to turn to look at him but cries out in pain and recoils.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," Canada mutters in a comforting tone, "just stay awake."

Russia looks around at the kids around the room. The states and Philippines look like they are about to cry, most of them stare with horror clear in their eyes. The provinces watch, uncomfortable and worried. Finland guarding the window, her eyes focused on the shadowy depths.

Russia hears footsteps approaching the cabin door, and his breathing stops. The door creeks open slightly, and Dixie skulks in. The states follow on his heels. Russia sighs. Dixie holds up his gun, aiming it out the door, over Texas's and New Mexico's heads, dropping it only once the door was closed. Texas and New Mexico sheath their weapons and bring the first-aid supplies they had retrieved over to New York and California.

The two got to work, tightly wrapping America's torso. Canada and Dixie help hold America upright. It takes a while to get it cleaned up, and by the time they are done, the inside of the cabin slowly lights up, and the sunlight peaks through the window above Russia's head.

The light casts spotty shadows along the walls of the cabin, lighting up the dirty floors, and destroyed furniture in dotted, light yellow light. The colors are faded, and the interior looks much older than it had at first. He also spots some vials on the counter, and a few used syringes around.

His heart drops.

'Was anyone pricked?'

But he couldn't ask. He moves his arm to get someone's attention. His movements aren't as coordinated as he would have liked and any movement makes him sore, but he decided this is more important.

He gently pushes the arm of a nearby state.

"What's up?" Indiana asks.

Russia slowly raises his shaky arm, and with a half-closed fist, he tries his best to gesture to the countertop.

"What?"

Russia waves more frantically. Indiana gets up and walks over to the counter, looking confused. Then, a panicked look passes over his face.

"Oh. Uhh, Dixie?" Indiana calls, a shaky tone to his voice.

"What?" Dixie snaps, and then he sighs, "sorry kiddo. Didn't mean to snap at you. What's going on?"