*This fic is written in response to Kimchi71399's "APH 100 day fanfic challenge", which I stupidly accepted because I want some cookies.
'Cause cookies are good.
Anyway, the pairing here is BelAme! Cold War. Explanation enough? XD
Summer and Ice
Chapter 1- Introductions
"I can't be the one to blame for starting this war with that commie," Alfred muttered, dejectedly spinning in the office chair before his boss. "I've already got a bad rep with you-know-who after World War II."
"That wasn't your fault, America. Truman told you to drop the bombs."
America's young face scrunched in pain, that awful day coming back to him full force. It was a dirty blow for anyone, using such unrelenting, raw destruction to end a war. Japan was still gravely injured from the attack, taken care of by China and his other siblings. It was likely everyone in the world was terrified of him now; America, the nation with the power to blow your land to smithereens.
Everyone… but Russia.
America and Russia had briefly met for the first time at some friendly party hosted by Italy, celebrating his becoming a country after countless years of trying to convince both the Papal states and the other city-states to gather together into one. The bright, young Italian had instantly wanted to get to know anyone and everyone who were fellow nations. America hadn't wanted to go to stupid Europe where awful Brits and those smelly Frenchies were, but he hated the idea of himself ending up like lonely, xenophobic Switzerland.
So, deciding against President Monroe's doctrine about America staying put on his own darned continent, he had gone.
Russia had been a jolly, big man with a lovely (albeit ditzy) big sister and a fetish for sunflowers. He was also filthy stinking rich, but not exactly on board with everyone else's rapid industrialization. Russia was old-fashioned and a bit on the crazy side himself, but America had liked him well enough.
Then there was the war with Japan. The Russo-Japanese war had changed both parties into something neither liked. Russia's people revolted. America thought it would turn out just like his revolution; there would be hard feelings for a while, but they'd adjust soon enough.
He was wrong- terribly, terribly wrong.
Thousands of people died on Bloody Sunday, washing Russia's once cultural and bright land in darkness and hatred unlike ever before. When America next saw Russia during peace delegations after his war with Japan, he was nothing like the man from Italy's celebration. He emitted an aura of insanity that made everyone wary of his overly-friendly smile. He carried a lead pipe, of all things, as a weapon, further adding proof to his being a madman.
Russia had transformed into a sinister nation, that was sure.
And who could have been a greater hero to save him from communism than Mr. Democracy himself, America, the world's hero? He couldn't let Russia spread his stain of communism to other countries like he already had to China- he couldn't let the world steal itself the freedom it deserved! He was America, land of the Free!
However, there was one thing keeping America from his kick-but-AWESOME deeds as "Hero of the World".
That one thing, of course, was Russia's little sister.
America began to think this wasn't going to turn out well at all.
