Book 2 - The Angel Against Revolution

XI - Road Block

Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, New Mexico, New Hampshire, Wyoming, and Philippines get their things prepared and thrown into Delaware's car and America makes sure that his group is packed and ready to go. Russia helps shove food and water under the seats in the cars, tossing extra fireworks and guns from under Alabama's seats into the truck bed with the luggage.

"We are leaving in the morning," America announces. 

Russia nods along beside him. After the bags are packed, and Dixie ran out and got some more clothes for them to pack, Russia relaxed in the middle of the blankets, and the states and provinces join him as the sun sets and the temperature drops.

America squeezes in between Russia and the Dakodas and snuggles up into Russia's side.

"Don't want you to be cold," America says.

"I'll keep watch with Jersey," New York volunteers.

"Okay, sounds good to me," America says before tucking his face into Russia's chest. 

The warmth feels good against the cold winter air that leaks through the doorframe and walls. The states get closer. 

Soon, Russia finds himself at the center of a pile of states and provinces smushed together and fast asleep. Russia strokes America's hair calmly and watches New York walk around, his footsteps echo strangely against the walls.

New York sits on the stairs and begins pulling his leg out from his pants.

'WHAT?!'

"N' York?" Russia mutters, voice full of confusion.

New York looks up, a little startled.

"Yeah, Russia?"

"Your leg?" Russia asks.

"Oh, I lost it. This is just a prosthetic. I'm fine," New York replies flippantly.

Russia hums in acknowledgment, but questions still float around his head. Eventually, he shrugs them off.

Russia looks down at America on his chest and smiles. He snakes his arms around America's waist just under his shirt and pulls him up. 

'He feels so warm.'

America mutters into his chest and curls his arms up to his chest. Russia smiles and closes his eyes. He drifts off, warm with America on his chest. He wakes up a little while later with soft talking in the background and America shaking.

"America?" Russia whispers.

America whines.

"Meri?" Russia asks, and he runs his hand through America's hair gently. America opens his eyes and tears stream down his face. 

"Are you okay?" Russia mutters.

America shakes his head, hiding his face. Russia's heart clenches. He reaches down and traces shapes on America's back and hums lullabies he remembers from his childhood. America calms down and tilts his head.

"Thanks," America mutters.

Russia nods and continues humming, his eyes pulling themselves close.

When he wakes up again, it's to conversations surrounding him. Opening his eyes, he sees that the pile of kids hadn't moved from around him, but they had begun to talk with each other. What they were talking about, Russia isn't sure.

Russia sits up with America in his lap and rubs his face.

"Hi, Russ!" West Virginia chimes.

"Good morning," Russia replies with a yawn.