Summary: America is depressed. Like, REALLY depressed. So when Canada asks two nations, who have hated America's gut for many years, to cheer him up then you know it's got to be bad. Warnings of America and Cuba swearing, failed attempts at Spanish, and a depressed America. Italic are thoughts or dream.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Why Do We Bother
A playful breeze tickled Alfred's hair as he climbed the steep hill that led to a beautiful meadow, just over the top. "Come on, you slow pokes! Your gonna miss the best view if you don't hurry up!" yelled America, over his shoulder. Behind him, following at a more slower pace, was a pack of nation, most of them just finished with business at their latest meeting. "Would you shut the bloody hell up, you fat, pig headed idiot!" grumbled England loud enough for his former charge to hear. "What's that? Your calling ME fat even though I'm totally beating ALL of you guys up this hill? Great argument Iggy…What do you call these kind of statements? Flawed? Yeah! That's it!" America laughed at the glare he received from England. "You wanker. I'm older than you! Of course I'm going to be more slow than you!" Ignoring his last comment America could see an end to the draining hill they were all climbing. "How much longer!" groaned France. Many other nations agreed with him with a nod of their heads. Sprinting the last steps that brought America to the hill top, he chuckled as he threw himself on the grassy floor that ran endlessly at the bottom of this quaint meadow. At a slow trickle, the others joined him soon enough at the top, where they could see a blazing sun set, off in the distance, settling itself cozily into the nest of tree tops that formed the forest at the meadow's end. "Great view huh?" Chimed America. Nations like France, Spain and Italy commented on how glorious the view was and how it would make for a wonderful setting in a story or romantic date. Others like Germany and Japan, quietly agreed although they fidgeted slightly whenever the previous nations tried to further the conversation. Eventually, the nations silently broke off into pairs and groups, gladly enjoying the view that America told them would be worth while. Everyone fitted in their appropriate group, except America who looked around at all the chatting nations. Leaning on a tree alone and basking in the glory that was his, the nation who had invited them to this place, Alfred sauntered over to England's group, consisting of France and what's his face….CANADA! Yeah! And decided to bless them with his presence. "Aren't you guy's glad I told you about this place? I know the BEST places in my country! Then again, it IS my country! Land of the Free! Home of the Brave!" Other nations glanced over at America's squawking, some irritated that he was back to bragging about how great he was. "Would you shut it already and just let us enjoy this peaceful setting? By God, I swear Alfred, you are perhaps the most irritating nation who had EVER befell this poor planet." His American ally grinned in reply. After some time, the sun had finally settled into darkness and nations began to leave for their hotels and current residence. Everyone left the grassy meadow, eager to rest for the fresh night. But…they forgot about a certain America who had, in time, fallen asleep near a tree. His former companions didn't take note that the sudden silence in their group was due to their talkative ally falling asleep from hidden fatigue. No one knew that America had remained at that meadow until the next morning. He woke up to the songs of Mother Nature, sung by numerous song birds hanging near the trees. And when he looked around his environment, Alfred F. Jones, personification of the United States of America, realized with a heart breaking sadness, that nobody had waited for him. Nobody had recognized that he had dozed off in the warm grass. Nobody had realized that he was still here, after they all went home. And nobody noticed that he had slept all night…out in the warm summer night, by himself. Did he really have nobody in his life that cared for him? No one even bothered to wake him up! Grudgingly rising from the flattened grass he had slept on, Alfred headed home and retired for the day, not even bothering to attend the meeting that was occurring that same day. The others didn't deserve his company! They didn't deserve anything…
Waking up from his horrendous nightmare, America sat up in bed and silently wiped the tears that had streaked his face. "That shitty nightmare again…"
In truth, Alfred wished, more than anything, to be able to call his nightmare just that. A simple nightmare. But it wasn't. It had actually occurred just 2 weeks ago, during a time when all the nations were over at New York City, holding a new world meeting for current global issues.
Sure, he had been broken about the whole ordeal. At first, he had remained hushed about it, hoping to God, that at some point, some nation would suddenly remember what they had committed at the meadow and beg him for forgiveness for abandoning him, but that dream never came true. Then he decided to hint about the event, reminding nations about the "awesome view" they had seen at the hill. Still, no one remembered or seemed to care. In fact, some were beginning to tell Alfred to shut up about the whole event. They didn't want to feel obligated to the American for any reason, just because he had offered them a nice view of the setting sun. Feeling slightly hurt by the overall reaction he was getting from the others America decided to bury the memory deep into the crevices of his mind, stuffing it along with all the other times the nations had unknowingly offended him or insulted him, whether on purpose or on accident. But then…the memory started to float up to the surface of his thoughts, constantly reminding him about how he had no one in his life to wait for him, someone who would remember him or tell him that he was needed. Soon enough, the memory became a common nightmare that plagued the American for the passed 9 days, until he finally decided that he had enough.
"Stupid nations! How could they forget about me…? I'm America! The freaking land of opportunities! I gave every nation out there hope for a better future and this is what I get?" He tried to continue in his empty conversation but the depressing echoes he was receiving from his room only enforced his self loathing. "No point in talking to myself, huh?" There I go doing it again!
He peeled himself away from his lonely bed and wrestled with the bed sheets that did not seem to want to let him go from his cushy prison. Then he started the day.
- Canada's House - 2 weeks later
"Can you come over soon"…. "Yeah, I suppose, but-!" … "Oh come on! You owe me! Remember! OR do I have to recount how you sat on me for a whole meeting?...Yeah. I did!..." …. "No, I don't want to become one with you! Can you just get over here or what?"… "No I'm not using a harsh tone with you…" … "Just, please. I really need help this time…" … "Ok. Thank you, Russia."
Matthew hung up the phone and glanced at the Cuban who was lightly smoking one of his cigars. "You do know I don't allow smoking in here, right?"
"I'm not smoking."
"I can clearly see you smoking Cuba. I'm invisible, not blind!" Matthew boldly reached for the cigar resting in his friend's lips and threw it in the sink. "Stop messing around and help me! I need help!"
Staring at his dead cigar dissolving in the wet sink, Cuba looked up at Canada. "That was one of my best cigars…"
"Boo hoo! I don't care! I invited you over to help me figure out how to help Alfred out, not to allow you to smoke willy nilly in MY house!" Matthew sure seemed upset today.
Scrunching his eyebrows together, Cuba stared at his Canadian friend long enough to see that he was completely serious.
"Argh! Why did you invite ME, of all nations, over to "help" with this problem? You know I hate your brother…with a passion. It would make me more than happy to see him all dejected and vulnerable like this. Are you seriously trying to take that joy away from me by asking me to "HELP" him out?"
"Yes."
"WHY?"
"Let see…Your one of my closest friends. That's one reason. You hate my brother, so that's another reason. And you owe me. That's the last reason."
He remained quiet before replying. "Ok, I can understand the first reason. The third…is kind of flimsy."
"You constantly beat on me when you think I'm America!"
"Ok, never mind. But the second reason! How is me hating America a good reason for you to call for my help?"
"Simple. You hate America. We all know that. But if I can get a nation who is not on friendly terms with my brother, to recognize that something is wrong with him then maybe the rest of the world will start to care too."
"So that's why your inviting Russia over too? To "Help?"
"Well…maybe Russia is a extreme choice." A hard look from Cuba said otherwise. "Ok! Russia is kind of a drastic option, but I have no choice! Alfred's been depressed for the passed 4 weeks and nothing I do is helping him anymore. I'm really starting to get scared for him…"
"Have you tried smacking him up side the head?"
"How will that help?"
"Oh right…We're helping him…" Grumbled Cuba.
"Cuba, do I have to reconsider my choice here? Because I can call Alfred over here and tell him that your "invading" my home. He may be depressed but he's still protective enough to kick your ass if you decide that you don't want to be of any use." Was…Was Canada actually threatening him?
The staring contest that ensued quickly died with a submissive Cuba. "Fine! I'll help! But I don't have to work directly with the Russian on this project, right?"
"Don't call my brother a project! And no, you don't have to work directly with him, although it would help more if you-"
A knock at the door halted his comment. "Oh! That should be him right now." He left to open the door, leaving behind a disgruntled Cuban. Of ALL his luck, he had to befriend the guy whose brother was the worst most conceited tyrant in the world. He HAD to find better friends some time soon…
"Ah…Mattvie. Is your pig headed brother here?" Russia asked, strolling into Canada's living room and smiling at the unnerved Cuban waiting there. "I see you already have company, da?"
"No Russia, Alfred is not here. But Cuba is. You and him are going to do me the honor of trying to cheer my brother up."
Russia who had been giggling at the glare he was receiving from Cuba, suddenly stopped. What? "Uh…Mattvie? Can you repeat that again? I think your distracting friend over here prevented me from hearing your request."
Cuba's glare increased tenfold.
"I said: You and Cuba are going to try and cheer my brother up." Canada stood his ground when Russia turned his attention from the island nation and loomed over his figure.
"Mattvie? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"
"You didn't TELL HIM!" Yelled Cuba, shock oh so obvious in his tone.
Matthew smiled gently. "Oh…I guess I forgot that detail. Russia's right Cuba, you ARE distracting." His glance was directed at the sink where his forlorn cigar laid. Oh! So he was going to blame me now!
"Anyways," continued Matthew. "I need your help Ivan. CAN you go and try to cheer my brother up? He won't talk to me and every time I call his phone or send him an email he won't reply."
"Have you tried visiting him in person?" Questioned Russia.
"Yes! But he won't let me in…"
"Do you want me to break down his door?" Ivan fished out his pipe that lay stashed in his long coat.
"NO! I just want you to talk to him! WITHOUT hurting him! That goes for you too Cuba!" A determined look was sent in his direction.
"And if I refuse?" Russia was really trying Matthew patience. The exhausted Canadian sighed before dropping himself into his couch, his hand rubbing his forehead where he could feel a migraine coming on.
"If you refuse, fine! I think your kind of a severe option anyways. I mean, why should I have called YOU of all people to go and cheer my brother up? I should have just gone and called England instead…"
For some reason, Cuba could see a part of Russia face twitch…perhaps in annoyance? And why the HELL did Russia get a choice to refuse and I didn't!
Russia tried to decipher whether Canada was being honest with him or if he was playing mind games with him. Was dear little Mattvie deceptive enough to play mind games?
He shook his head in mental denial and approached the seat Cuban. "Very well. Cuba and I will try to "cheer" your brother up." He grabbed a hold of Cuba's shoulder who attempted to shrug him off.
"Que piensas que estas hacienda?" (What do you think your doing?)
"But before we depart, may you tell us what exactly is ailing your…dear brother? I think it would be in YOUR best interest if you warn me ahead of time what I am dealing with. That way I don't…as Alfred likes to say, "Push his buttons.""
Canada slightly chuckled at Russia's reference of Alfred's pet peeves. "True. Alright. Alfred is depressed. Like, seriously "someone should be watching this idiot" depressed. I think something happened but he won't talk to me anymore…" Matthew remained downcast when he thought of his once cheerful and obnoxious brother.
From the irritating grip on his shoulder, Cuba glared up at Russia but instead saw some recognition light up in his eyes at the mention of an incident. Does this bastard know something…?
"Fun. Alright, we're off! Hope to return with better news dear Mattvie. But after this, you can no longer hold our last incident against me, understand?" The Canadian nodded in agreement, a small smile gracing his lips.
"Thank you Ivan."
"Y yo! Ya te olvidaste de me!" (And me! You already forgot about me?)
Canada giggled. "No I didn't. Thank you too Cuba. Although you better try to actually be useful to Russia, or else my thanks will be a hockey stick up your-"
"Que! Why are you telling ME to be useful? Shouldn't you be telling that to the Russian over here! And why are you suddenly threatening someone who is here to help?"
Matthew sighed again, following the Russian who led the Cuban out the door. "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed. Please…help my brother."
"We will Mattvie. We will."
And off they went, Russia silently thinking to himself while dragging a screeching Cuban who yelled about how he was capable of walking on his own and not being yanked around like a mule.
-United States - Alfred's House –
Dear Whoever gives a Damn anymore,
I sick of everyone of you. I wanted to be a hero, someone who people could look up to. Someone who the world could depend on. But I see that that's not the case. You all suck and I hope that I never have to see your fucking faces ever again.
Sincerely, Fucking Alfred F. Jones
Alfred stopped and read his written letter before crumbling it up and throwing it in the trash where a pile of wadded papers overfilled the top.
"Shit! Why can't it come out right!" He had spent the last 5 days trying to write a good "You'll never see me again" letter but that it hadn't been as easy as he first thought.
It had been another two weeks and he had just about cracked under all the memories of past negligence the other nations directed towards his presence. The nightmare had faded but it only broke open the dam that held back everyone memory that Alfred could recall where nations just flat out hated his being. In the 2 weeks that passed him by, Alfred was slowly deprecating his own existence until he thought about something.
Why don't I just leave?
All the nations seemed to hate him anyways. Previous calls to England's home usually ended in a voice message that always said the same thing.
"…and if this is America calling then hang up the bloody phone and leave me alone, you stupid prat." Admittedly, Alfred was used to this message, but ever since the meadow incident, Alfred felt like he could hear added disdain in the recordings. That hurt.
His friend Japan also seemed to deny him any time to hang out or simply chat. Emails and phone calls ended with Japan explaining that he was busy. Alfred was even sure he could hear someone in the background of answered called. Sounded like Greece…
America then started to get desperate, calling nations he normally wouldn't call.
Italy, Germany, China and France…
They were all always too busy to pay him any attention… This only helped reassure America that no one cared for him. Period.
He sighed in misery. "Time to write another crappy letter." Then began to scribble some words.
Dear Fucking World,
I hate-
Something caught his attention! The door? He held his breathe to get a better sound of the noise he heard before.
*Knock Knock Knock*
Who the hell was here? It better not be Mattie again! I already told him that I don't want to talk to him! Irritated that his though process had been interrupted, America stomped down the stairs from his room and yanked the door open.
"Didn't I tell you to-!"
"Privet America. How are you today?" Chimed Russia.
"Hola Capitalist pig…" Mumbled Cuba.
"What. The. Hell?" Alfred stared at them dumbly, trying to guess whether he was seeing things now from endless fatigue or if 2 nations, who hated him with a passion, were actually at his door step. He poked Cuba in the chest for reassurance. He felt real…
"Hey! Don't fucking poke me you stupid little-! And he sounded real enough too…
"Amerika? Are you dehydrated because I can reassure you, we are not mirages."
Alfred was confused. "Then why the heck are YOU two here? I would imagine that you Commies would be ecstatic to see me like this…?" Something was up with these guys…
"Oh believe me, we ARE happy to see you like this, dumb ass." Smirked Cuba.
"We're here to help!" Russia stood up at full height and beamed at America.
Who promptly slammed the door on their faces.
"Go to hell!" Came the muffled reply through his wooden door.
"Umm, Alfred? I think you forgot to let us in…" Giggled Russia as he knocked a few times on the door.
"Why bother? The stupid ass doesn't want our help. Lets go back to Canada and say we tried our best." Cube started walking away before a gloved hand jerked him back towards the American's door.
"Try to open the door, comrade. You know how to pick a lock, da?" Russia only got a strange look from Cuba.
"What? I don't know how to pick a lock! What do you think I am, a thug?" He lazily tugged on the door knob, the door refusing to open.
"See it's locked!"
Russia shook his head in amusement. "That is not how you open a door, Cuba." He leaned his head close to the door and turned the knob a couple of times. Hmm…won't open. Alfred locked it…
"Alfred!" Yelled Russia through the door. "We need to talk. But we can't with this door in the way, da?" Russia got another muffled reply, this one more broken.
"-uck –ou!"
"Alfred? Don't test my patience now." Warned Russia. Cuba slowly back away from the Russian who still held him by the arm in a tight hold.
"What are you-?" Cuba stared in horror as Russia punched a hole through America's door and opened it from the other side.
"There! Door is open now." Then he happily let himself and the Cuban inside, a few curses heard from up stairs.
"What the hell was-? ACK! My door! What the fuck is wrong with you Commies! Are you all this fucking insane or what?" It was sort of comical how Cuba could see a few tuffs of hair slipping through the Americans hand as he yank some blond locks off.
"You forgot to let us in Amerika."
As if it wasn't bad enough that the crazy Commie had punched a freaking hole through my door, but now he walking up my stairs like he owns the damn house! "No one invited you over Commie bastard! Get out of my house this instant!" Screeched America who ran after Russia.
Cuba laughed at how Russia was really taking charge of this project, thankful that he had released him once inside the house. Maybe he wouldn't have to do much after all…
"HEY! Get of out my damn room! HEY! Don't touch that! …ARGH!" A lot of commotion upstairs. Why did I take this request for Canada? Dragging himself upstairs, Cuba prepared himself for whatever Russia had done to the stupid American. Hopefully he knocked him out or something. Up the stairs at a slow pace, Cuba thought about an unconscious America. Ahh…the peace. Then he thoughts wandered to more darker things.
Wait…Russia…plus an unconscious America…He knew that in the past, during what the others called the Cold War, Russia and America had some tension. Stupid France always called it sexual tension but- The gears in his head started to turn as Cuba put two and two together. He froze before realizing a freighting thought.
SHIT! FUCKFUCKFUCK! He sprinted up the stairs, completely aware of the sudden quietness in the house and prayed to any God that Russia hadn't done anything to the stupid Capitalist Pig. Fuck! Matthew is going to KILL me if anything happens to his stupid brother!
Inside the American's room, Cuba stumbled upon a mess. Besides the numerous wadded papers that littered his room and the usual mess that America left behind, Cuba found Russia sitting at a desk, deeply interested in some papers he was reading. America on the other hand was struggling on his bed, apparently tied up with some of his own clothes.
"How did you…I mean- How did you tie him up like that so quick!"
No doubt, it amused Cuba that America was glaring at him with a look that practically screamed, "I'm going to kill you once I'm free" but it was strange to see the intimidating Russian so quiet. The look in his eyes didn't comfort Cuba either.
He approached the gray haired nation, pretending not to notice how the stupid American fell off his bed and made a delightful thud on the floor, still struggling to free himself without ripping his favorite clothes.
"Que tienes allí?" (What do you have there?)
No response.
"Hellooo? Didn't you hear me? What the hell is so interesting in these crappy letters?" Cuba attempted to grab the paper from his hand but jerked his hand back when the paper was scrunched up in Ivan's grip. The paper then pathetically fell onto the table as the Winter nation rose from his seat and approached the frozen American on the floor.
He kneeled down in front of Alfred. "Tell me Amerika. Why do those letters sound like suicide letters to me?" He roughly removed the shirt that kept Alfred from speaking.
Dull blue eyes glared at Ivan, but Alfred didn't speak, his head lowered until his hair obscured his face.
"That's none of your business…" whispered America.
"Is that so?" It was unsettling for the American to be so quiet.
"Cuba!" The mentioned nation jumped at having heard his name be called so sharply. "Go get America's car keys and start his car for me."
"W-what?" What do we need his stupid car for?
"Go!" Ordered Russia. Didn't need to tell him twice…Cuba was out the door in 3 seconds, anxious to get away from the thick atmosphere that seemed to be welling into a dangerous level in the room.
"No one said you can use my car Commie."
"I don't care what you say Alfred."
"And I never gave you permission to call me by my human name either."
"I will do as I please, Al-fred." Smiled Russia near America's ear. "So long as you refuse to talk about what is bothering you, I give myself and Cuba, permission to use whatever we'd like in your house." The best way to get this pathetic nation talking was to anger him. It always got him to blurt out any problems that he had.
"Hey Russia! I got it started!" Came the reply from downstairs. Cuba jogged back into the room, slightly nervous about what was to come next. "Alright, go grab whatever you can find in this disgusting house that looks valuable and pack it into the car."
Cuba gave Russia a puzzled look. His partner in crime grinned. "We are going to make some New Yorkers very happy today, when they get valuable items like game systems and movie collections." Answered Russia.
"What the-!" America gawked at the two nations.
The horrified look on America's face made Cuba want to laugh out loud. Finally! Some REAL fun! And the best part is that I can always tell Canada that this was all Russia's idea and that I was following his order! Cuba grinned evilly. "Of course!" And dashed back down the stairs to grab whatever he could find.
"Screw you Commies! Let me go NOW!" America's struggles did nothing to loosen the knots that kept in bound. In fact, it almost seemed to tighten the more he struggled.
"You son of a -!" Russia giggled when he stuffed Alfred's shirt back into his mouth, silencing any further insults.
"Don't worry Amerika! You'll be there to see every happy person receive your belongings!"
I hope to see you burn in hell you stupid Commie!
Russia easily lifted the bounded American onto his shoulder and walked down stairs, his Cuban ally already waiting in the car with the back seat full of countless items.
- Five hours later –
"That was fun, wasn't it Cuba?" Russia looked so happy after emptying Alfred's car of all his belongings that Cuba had thrown in there.
"Hell yeah! Pero este gringo no se mira muy contento." (But this American doesn't look too happy) Cuba was right. America was seething after that whole experience.
As if being thrown in my own car and driven around MY city to see my people get MY things was bad enough. I couldn't even get any help because the stupid windows were tinted! Why! WHY did I have to do that! The idea seemed so cool at the time.
"Well Amerika? Are you going to talk or do we have to do another round here?"
Alfred's eyes twitched in dismay. Russia removed the shirt from his mouth, hoping to hear a better answer this time. Cuba secretly hoped that America would resist again so they could go for round 2.
"Were those letters you were writing suicide letters?"
"…No. Happy? You sick fucker."
"No? Then what did you write them for?" This wasn't something Russia was expecting.
"Those letters were…they were for me..." He stopped.
"Go on." Encouraged Russia. He didn't like seeing the stupid American so depressed and vulnerable like this. If anything, the idiot should only be like this when Russia caused it himself. Not some pointless incident…
"…I was going to go away. For a while. Probably try to make it look like I'd kill myself. But what's the big deal IVAN! The others nations don't care so why should I?"
Was that it? No…there was more he wasn't explaining. "Mattvie cares about you."
"Sure he does. That's why he left me…" Alfred stopped again, this time, refusing to continue. Seeing that this was his last comment and wouldn't continue, Russia turned to Cuba who had been watching the whole conversation with mild interest.
"Go start the car again."
"What!" America tried to break the bonds again and was about to scream at the Russian when Ivan shut him up with a thoroughly wet shirt. "-Mph!"
"Sure!" Chirped Cuba with a grin.
Cuba seems too eager to do this…Thought Russia.
Returning to grab some items, Russia halted his actions and motioned him to go back to the car, both Cuba and America staring at him in confusion.
"We will not need any items this time, comrade." Walking towards the car Russia gingerly placed America in the back seat, instead of throwing him in like last time, and then took his place at the driver's seat. Cuba, was more reluctant to leave the house but got in the car, nonetheless.
"Where are we going?" Asked Cuba. If Alfred wasn't tied up and gagged he'd ask the same question as well. Actually, he'd just beat the shit out of the two nations if he wasn't tied.
"Somewhere I know Alfred will talk." His knowing smile silenced all other questions.
- Park - Late evening –
"The park!" Cuba looked around at the desolate place. No one was here and it was starting to get really cold. "Why this shit hole? There's nothing here." He failed to notice the murderous glare he was getting from the tied American, whom Russia was carrying on his shoulder.
Russia never lost his smile as he started heading towards a familiar spot, up a steep hill.
Whatever the place was to Russia, it seemed like America didn't like it. Cuba watched as the young blond struggled vigorously in the giant's grip, desperate to get away from the place. And the sounds he was making…It sounded like Russia was taking the nation to his death or something.
LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT TO COME BACK HERE! STOP! America struggled, like a worm trying to free itself from its predator's claws.
"Calm down Amerika. This isn't a death sentence, da?" Up the hill they went, Cuba following Russia and America. Halfway up the hill, America ceased all movement, eyes glazed over with tears that declined to fall down. He made sure to keep his head down, so the others wouldn't see him like this…
At the top, Russia and Cuba were met with the sight of a lovely meadow. Wild creatures scampering back to their nests and homes while the sun set in the distance. Placing the limp American near a tree for support, Russia tilted his head in curiosity.
"What's the matter Alfred? Why don't you try to break free?" The North American nation did not move.
"Is he dead or what?" Cuba nudged the blond with his foot, worry crossing his face at the little reaction he got. "What did you do Russia?" The threat of Canada…oh GOD!
"Nyet. I did no such thing. But this place…" Russia looked around. "It does not hold good memories for Amerika. Am I right, Alfred?" He removed the gag from his mouth, but America did not speak.
"Exactly what happened here? The place looks harmless enough…"
"They left me here." Came the sudden reply. The two standing nations turned to America.
"What?"
A broken laugh came from the sitting nation. "Hehe…I invite them over to this place and in the end they forget about me. I have to ask myself every second now: Why do I even bother?"
Russia hummed in acknowledgement. "Hmm. And? What is problem? We all ask ourselves that same question."
"I don't." Added Cuba.
"What's the problem?" Alfred's laugh began to slowly change into stifled sobs. "The problem…Everyone hates me. Nobody bothers to talk to me anymore and nothing I do helps. Ever…"
Silence. "They even forgot to wake me up when I brought them here! No one waited. No one…" They don't care about me.
"You're wrong." Replied Russia.
"What! I am not wrong! You were there too! You probably left snickering all the way as everyone ditched me!"
"Nyet. Wrong again."
"Really, then how-?"
" I was there all along when everyone left. But I didn't leave. I watched. From a distance. You never once woke up until the early morning, the next day." His eyes softened at the memory.
"You….what?" Cuba stared at Russia in bewilderment.
"Ivan…" Began America slowly. "…That's stalker status there."
"I'm actually going to agree with the capitalist pig on this one."
Russia giggled as he undid the ties and clothes that bounded America. "And you complain and cry about being left alone. Even Mattvie tried to wait for you but he was dragged away but that ridiculous Frenchmen."
"…And England…?"
Russia narrowed his eyes as he finished the last knot. "Why do you care for that bossy nation? He was too distracted to remember you anyways."
America looked away for a moment, willing the lingering tears to dry up. He shivered slightly, as the last dirty clothes that Russia had used as substitute rope fell away from him. "…Why the hell would YOU wait for me Commie? Huh? Waiting for me to let my guard down so you can pounce on me and steal my soul?"
Again, Russia giggled. Such a stupid boy. Hmmm, but I guess that's what makes him oh so amusing… Ignoring his last comment, Russia turned towards the setting sun, basking in what little warm radiated from its rays.
"Are you still depressed because it's starting to get cold and I want to go home soon." Barked Cuba. Any further comments, however, were withheld when Russia threatened him with just a narrowed glance. Shut up or I'll shut you up. I'm working here.
Grumbling to himself, Cuba crossed his arms and settled for sitting near the Capitalist pig, although he did his best to keep a reasonable distance away from him. Remember! You're doing this because Canada said so!
"Regarding what you said before dear little America…" Started Russia, his hands crossed behind his back as he watched the glowing sun sink into the horizon. "If I really wanted to "pounce" on you, as you say, I would have done it long ago when you were most vulnerable. And besides…"
Looking anywhere but at the talking Russian, Alfred was surprised to find a hand lifting his chin up to meet purple eyes that held a glimmer of mischief. "I have more fun when you put up a fight." Purred Russia.
"Tch! Get away you freak." Growled America, yanking his chin away from the Russians grip. Cuba could only look on in disgust as the former communist nation flat out flirted with the symbol of Capitalism himself. Ugh! How nauseating! Hmmm, maybe I should tell Canada about this. See how he feels about his brother being courted by this creep.
"Heheh! I take it you are feeling better, yes?"
"I feel like throwing up. That's what I feel like." Retorted America, making gagging sounds for emphasis.
"Oh? You want me to put this back on you then?" Russia directed to the poor shirt that had been occupying Alfred mouth as a personal mute option, for the passed 7 hours.
"You crazy psychopathic-!" Rising to insult Ivan to his face, Alfred bit back his words when he was suddenly embraced by the winter nation. Why is he…warm? Isn't he like…in league with General Winter or some crazy shit like that?
"You are not alone, comrade. We all ask ourselves: why do we bother. It is only normal. And if you feel lonely then come talk to me one day. I always welcome guests!" There is no reason for you to be sad Amerika. I find it infuriating that simply leaving you alone can reduce you to such a state.
"I don't like your place." Mumbled Alfred.
"And why the hell are you hugging him?" Questioned Cuba.
"Yeah…why are you hugging me, Commie bastard?" Alfred lifted his head from Russia's chest and looked up at him, trying his best to hide his blush that blended with the fading sun.
"Are you not cold? I forgot to bring you a jacket when we departed from your place so I have concluded that a hug should suffice for the time being."
"Well…it is chilly out here…Why not just give me your coat?" He received laughter in reply. "I'm serious dude!"
He looks so ridiculous when he pouts… "Shall we go home now? It's getting late."
"What do you mean "Go home?" It's MY house! Go find your own place to crash!" Alfred pushed himself away from Russia but stumbled backwards until he fell onto his butt.
"Clumsy, aren't you?"
Alfred glared up at the tall giant. That damn smile! He was about to lift himself up when a burly hand grabbed him and lifted him from the ground, bridal style.
"Hey! W-Wha- da! Put me down you asshole!" Like hell am I going to be carried like this back to the car!
"You are tired, da? I can carry you; no problem. No ones here to watch." Except the Cuban who broke down from laughter at the scene.
"I hate you so much…" said Alfred who resigned himself to being carried. Being depressed was emotionally draining…
"Hehehe! You don't mean that, comrade." Russia giggled all the way back to the car, Cuba following behind with occasional chuckles escaping him.
"We shall NEVER speak of this again, you hear me Commie! This goes for you too Cigar breathe!" Cuba stopped long enough to glare at America being carried back to the car. To add insult to injury, America stuck his tongue out at Cuba, like children did often behind their parents back.
"Why you-!"
"And another thing Ivan…" America stared at the smiling man carrying him. With as much seriousness as Alfred could sum up after such a tiring day, he spoke.
"Tomorrow, you and Cuba are going to spend all day getting all my things back. I don't care if its something near impossible. You're going to do it, one way, or another."
Ivan looked away, feigning innocence. Cuba choked on his spit.
Well…at least I can say that this Commie cares…kinda.
I can say that I had some fun writing this out. I really don't know where this is going, but I'll try to make it worth while. =)