A small, sincere smile was printed on Ivan's sleeping face. For once he wasn't having a bad dream like usual... He was dreaming that Alfred was with him and that everything was okay… However, during a time of war between the two countries they lived in, this was obviously just a dream, short-lived, and he woke up soon.

Ivan closed his eyes, to keep the image of his deep blue eyes, and golden hair. He shook his head, snapping back to the fact that it was a war, and they were both soldiers. He wondered how Alfred felt about this… The whole thing put Ivan in a tizzy, that they were so happy together, then suddenly, everyone else feels that Russia and America has unfinished business from the cold war to take care of. It was so stupid…

Standing, Ivan walked to the canteen. He tended to get up earlier than most of the other soldiers, and tended to wander, letting his thoughts carry him away from the war, away from fighting against the one he loved so dearly.

"How is any of this fair? …It's not, life isn't fair, Ivan…" He muttered to himself, continuing to waltz in a dream-like state around the tables. He knew that since they met, it was God's way of protecting them… They would meet again, he knew it.

Ivan ambled to his position near the wall as the other solders woke up. The commander came out and began his seemingly favorite thing to do, bark orders in Russian at the soldiers.

"Ivan! Come here!" The commander yelled, scowling at Ivan.

Ivan barely pulled himself together, to snap back to reality long enough to communicate to anyone other that his own thoughts. He ran to the commander, waiting for the crack. Usually whenever Ivan would daydream, the commander would slap him. He clenched his teeth, readying himself for the blow.

And there was the sharp pain in his cheek. Good morning everyone, I should be awake now.

"So, Ivan. Are you out of your little love land yet?" The commander asked in a mocking tone, holding his journal out to him. Ivan had no idea how he kept getting it, he kept it under his pillow with his hand wrapped around it so he would awaken if anyone took it. He swore it was still there this morning...

He grabbed the journal, his cheeks a bit red from embarrassment and the slapping... This was like living in hell for him.

"Yessir..." Ivan muttered, looking down. "I'm sorry..."

"Ok, Back in line!" The commander hissed out from between his teeth. Ivan stumbled back to his place, blinking back the tears that had pearled in the corners of his eyes. All of Ivan would ache when he was hit, the part that would miss Alfred, his cheek- the physical stuff, and he would just feel hurt without actually having to be hurt. He would be far past the slapping, but all of him would still ache with longing and despair.

"I think you're all good enough to be on the battlefield now. However, Ivan..." The commander smiled an oily stab-you-a-thousand-times smile.

"Sir?" He asked, biting his lip out of nerves. Normally he was separated from all of the others... He was drafted, no choice of joining or not. What could he have in store this time?

"You'll be sent as a spy to America~"