Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

VI - Home Base

"YOU ABSOLUTE F*CKING DUNCE!" Arizona shrieks, "DO YOU KNOW HOW STUPID THAT WAS?!"

Russia sits, frozen as she screams at the top of her lungs in his face. Texas doesn't even look startled.

"Ari-" America tries.

"NO! YOU KNOW HOW F*CKING STUPID THAT WAS! PAPA, WHAT COULD'VE HAPPENED?! NOTHING THAT WOULD'VE ENDED WITH US ALIVE!"

Arizona huffs before she stares back at Russia, anger and fear in her eyes, and her hair starts to smoke.

"If you light my car on fire, you're paying for the repairs," Kansas mutters.

"Did you look away?" she hisses.

Russia doesn't respond.

"I SAID DID YOU LOOK AWAY?!" she shouts.

"No! No," Russia answers, shaking his head, his tongue stuck in his mouth, "it..look...down...first."

Arizona stares at him harshly.

"He's telling the truth," Kansas says from the front of the car.

Arizona shrinks back into her seat, muttering something in a language Russia doesn't recognize.

"Don't do that ever again," America says.

"Do...what?" Russia forces out.

"Don't ever make eye-contact with anything like that again," America demands.

"...Why?"

"Because if you get into a staring contest like that, and you accidentally look away, you become the next f***ing target, and you can't just get rid of that," America says, "you got really f***ing lucky that you didn't look away first."

"Well, don't ever do that again unless you want to have something hunting you 'till you end up dead. At least now, it probably means that it won't be following us anymore," Arizona says.

"Yo! What the F*** just happened with your car?" New York says into the radio, "we saw the thing keep up with you and then run off."

"Rus got into a staring contest," Texas replies.

"HE F***ING WHAT?"

"Ari already gave him his scolding."

"Tex, please tell me that Russia won."

"He did, don't worry."

The radio gets quiet.

America leans back on him and tilts his head up.

"Don't do that again, you lucking b**tard," America mutters.

Russia nods, and America relaxes, leaning against him. Russia drapes his arms around America's shoulders, and America reaches up and grabs them, hugging them close. Russia closes his eyes, not to sleep, but to avoid looking outside the window.

They stop for gas a few more times, and America instructs them to enter in a group of four to pay for all the pumps at one time. Sure, the clerks were suspicious of them, but as long as they all behaved, they would be fine.

They cross the border into Idaho at dawn, and a few more hours in, they pull off the interstate into some side roads that wind into the trees.

America is sleeping against his chest, and Russia stares down at him, feeling lovestruck. He gently threads his fingers through America's hair, admiring the colored stripes. The more he plays with it, the more red strands would appear through the white. He admires the colors and the texture of every strand.