Hetalia! Russia's Crisis

It was a long meeting for the Allied Forces. They had been in debate for almost an hour. They weren't even talking about how to defeat the Axis, anymore. They had begun to argue amongst themselves.

"Dude!" America shouted at Britain. "How is that going to help my economy?!"

"Just because you ban soda drinks larger than 16 ounces, doesn't stop people like you from buying two!" Britain shouted back.

"I think you should-" China started, but was interrupted.

"STAY OUT OF IT!" America and Britain shouted at him, then continued to argue.

China slumped back into his seat and glanced over at Russia, who, not surprisingly, was smiling. China looked away. He was creepy.

France was filing his nails, but had to stop in order to keep Britain from strangling America.

Russia suddenly stood up. Britain and France stopped pulling each other's collars and looked at him. America was silent for once. Russia continued to smile and just turned and walked out. "I am needing time to think," was all he said.

The Allies glanced at each other. America shrugged. "What's up with Russia?"

The Allies shook their heads. What WAS bothering Russia? That guy is unafraid of anything.

"Well, whatever," America waved it off. He forgot what they were arguing about, anyway. "I say Russia's place next time."

The other Allies' eyes grew wide.

"You want 'him to 'host next time?!" cried France.

"Are you mad?" asked Britain.

"I say Paris," stated China, ignoring the look from Britain. "I need new Chinatown…"

"Oh," France beamed at the idea. "Certainly, Mon Ami...s?..." he wasn't sure if that was plural…

Britain sighed and stole a glance at China. "Whose side are you on, anyway, Bloke?"

"Does Russia have a Chinatown?" asked America. "Let me ask my friend, Google…"

The other Allies looked at him. Was he that stupid?

Hetalia

Later, Britain had to clean up after the messy 'allies' had left. They may have signed treaties and were fighting on the same side, but lately it seemed like there were a spy among them. Someone wasn't who they say they were. Britain's thoughts were interrupted by a deep, dark feeling of depressing matter. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver went down his spine. It was coming from the meeting room. He dared a glance inside (and he said they were the spies?).

It was Russia.

Britain quickly ducked out of sight outside the meeting room, close to the open door. He held his breath and got as close to the wall as possible. His head was turned to the side, to get a better hearing without being seen. He was excellent as an espionage agent. Where did you think James Bond came from?

Russia's face was hidden in his hands and he sat at the table, facing the doorway. The deep, dark, depressing matter came from him. His country had just faced a huge crisis.

Britain wondered why he stayed behind and why he was so depressed. What happened to that proud but intimidating, always smiling cheerfully, sunflower-loving, Vodka-drinking, Belarus-escaping, curse-fleeing Russian?

Britain found himself smiling. He turned his head forward, again. "Haha," he laughed, quietly to himself. "That Wanker has finally snapped! Serves 'him right for thinking he can escape MY spells..." Britain imagined his invisible, imaginary friends, Captain Hook, Tinker Bell, and Uni the Unicorn laughing with him.

"What a Wanker!" they all said, according to Britain.

Britain was suddenly covered in a shadow and he stopped laughing. His imaginary friends stopped laughing, as well, and disappeared. Britain slowly dared to look up. But he wished he didn't...In front of him, stood the very tall, very dark, very...um...smiling Russia.

"Kol...kol...kol..." he repeated.

Britain shouted out in fear for his life. "GOOD GRAVY, MAN! I didn't know you were in there—'Honest! But this is my place; I 'have every right to be 'here..."

Russia suddenly paused and turned to look out the window. Britain slowly put his hands covering his face down, wondering why he was still alive.

Hetalia

Britain thought maybe he was hallucinating, but he was very much alive. Russia turned back to face Britain. He wasn't smiling anymore. Britain's face softened from fear to sadness. What was Russia thinking that made him so depressed?

"I am sorry," Russia turned to walk away. "You are right. I am going now, da?"

"No, wait!" Britain reached out and grabbed Russia's sleeve. "What ever is bothering you, Bloke? You can trust me. I'm your ally!"

Russia hesitated, and sighed. "It is country..." he turned to face Britain.

"Your country?" asked Britain. "What is it? Your allies are 'here to 'help you in any way we can, Chap!" Britain stood up straight and saluted.

"Nothing for you to be doing," Russia replied, sadly, shaking his head and shrugging. He kept his eyes on the floor beside him.

Britain slowly let his arm fall to his side. What did Russia mean? "Of course we will 'help you, Chap! We're the Allied Forces! We're friends!" Britain almost couldn't believe he had said he was Russia's friend...creepy...

Russia looked back up at Britain. It looked like he didn't believe it, either. He slowly walked towards Britain and took him in an embrace!

Britain blushed and almost peed in his pants. This was the closest he didn't want to be to Russia. He tried to pull away, but Russia's grip was firm. It seemed Russia had been keeping all of this to himself, inside without having something to vent and he was about to blow his top, or lose his mind. He smiled and also smelt of Vodka...typical or he had been drinking...

"I am glad to be having loyal servant like you," Russia started to stroke Britain's hair. Russia smiled more brightly this time.

Britain was shocked at being called a servant, and he didn't like to be petted by anyone. He pulled away with little effort this time. "What the 'hell is wrong with you?!" he demanded, almost falling over from not expecting to be let go.

But then Russia frowned again.

"I'm seriously considering a specialist for you, Bloke," mumbled Britain, wiping his cheek.

"Join with Mother Russia, da?" Russia asked, out of the blue.

"What?! No means no!" Britain shouted.

"Meteor," Russia stated. "Hit Russia.."

Britain stood, a little shocked that he had raised his voice higher than a Gentleman's should be, and that Russia was a man of little words, indeed. He thought, a meteor hit Russia? Is that what's bothering the man?...Then he said out loud, "Who the 'hell is playing Jumanji?"