Better Than an Awkward Train Ride to Moscow

A AmeRus Short Story

Written by The_Afterhours and Soko524

Warning: Alcohol References

Russia sat in his chair in the meeting room, most of the countries were on their way out or were chatting on the side. He stared at the Baltics, Lithuania, Estonia and little Latvia, smiling innocently just to watch them squirm uncomfortably. America sighed loudly, walking back into the meeting room to retrieve his bag. What was he suppose to do now? Someone stole his hamburger and now he was starving. He noticed how the room was almost empty except for a few people. The three Baltics sat at the table uncomfortably as the large Russian smiled at them. Russia's cold lavender eyes traveled up to America. He stood and walked up towards him. "Greetings." He was being awfully nice, it was amusing to see America become unsettled with only his presence. A shiver went down America's spine as he was approached by Russia. 'Here we go.' He thought to himself as he quickly tried to make up a speech, thinking he was in trouble. "Russia! My man!" He cautiously patted his shoulder and gave a nervous laugh. "You aren't still mad about that Cold War thing, are ya? 'Cause I can explain."

Russia brushed his hand off. "Now why would I be angry?" He smiled. "We're friends right, Comrade?" He put his arm around his shoulders, causing America's bones to crack loudly. "Nngh!" America grunted as his shoulders were crushed by Russia's crazy strength. "Yeah! Totally! Hehehehe." Lithuania watched, feeling sorry for America. "And because we are such good friends you should come over to my place and we have much fun, da?" Russia stopped the crushing thing and instead patted his head, his heavy hand nearly crushing Nantucket. America was scared to think of what would happen should he decline the offer. He stood there with his shoulders drooped over as his head was patted by Russia. "Absolutely! I wasn't planning on going out to get some burgers or anything..." He said sarcastically.

"Good! So you are ready to come along." Russia stopped patting his head like a child. "Now I'll need you to turn off your phone or anything you can use to call for help." America froze in place. Did...He hear that right? He took a gloved hand and used his pinky finger to clean out his ears. "Haha, could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you correctly. It sounded like you said I wouldn't be able to call for help." The Baltics shivered in their seats. Russia nodded. "I am sure I don't need to repeat myself, America." His voice was more threatening than childlike. "Right, gotcha..." America responded with a shaky voice. The blonde was tempted to text Iggy to prepare an army in case he didn't return. He pulled out his issued flip-phone and sighed before turning it off as he was told. Russia opened his hand and outstretched it to him, expecting him to give up his phone. America frowned and slid the phone into his pocket. He knew that Russia wanted it but how could he trust him. He had obeyed his request to turn it off. It was America's phone and he should be allowed to carry it. Not to mention it was issued by his boss. Russia frowned. "Alright then." His smiled quickly returned. "We can go to my place now, it will be a quick trip. I have traditional food I made. I know you love food so I want you to tell me how it tastes." He explained. America wouldn't admit how good food sounded right now, and home-made?! His mouth watered at the thought. This was awfully generous of Russia. He wondered what kind of trick he was hiding up his sleeve. His stomach growled loudly in response to Russia's offer. "Two of my favorite words. Free and Food." He chuckled.

"Excellent. Off we go now." Russia pulled him by the arm and dragged him off. Sometime later the odd duo arrived at Russia's house, like any other countries', was near his capital, Moscow. The inside was decorated with various artifacts from different times and eras. Some pictures that were on the wall were mostly in black and white. There was one where Russia was with his sisters and the rest of the Soviet Union. Little knick-knacks were on shelves along with many books. The hallway was sunflower themed. America recalled the few times he had been to Russia's home. Not much had changed inside his house but what was going on outside had changed drastically over the years. Russia's government was changing, and it seemed to be changing for the better if you asked America. He examined the black and white photos on the walls. The house had not a bit of dust. He expected this was because of the hardworking Baltics.

Russia called America over to the kitchen. There were three empty bowls on the counter and three pots on the stove. "I hope you like my cooking. I put some effort into making this. It won't disappoint." It seemed more like a red flag for Alfred for him not to say anything offensive. America took the hint that he shouldn't negatively critique the Russian's food. He'd have to watch his big mouth to be sure not to offend him. America wasn't extremely familiar with Russian cuisine. He had a tough stomach, he had survived England's cooking hadn't he? He only hoped it wasn't any worse than that. "I should probably let you know that the food has not been drugged or poisoned. And that cabbage is a very good plant, it grows very well here. Not only that but cabbage is important and hardy plant." He grabbed one of the bowls and filled it with something from the first pot and set it before America and gave him a spoon. "Cabbage stew." He said. The stew itself was very thin and a creamy off-white yellowish colour. As the name would suggest there was cabbage in there, boiled cabbage leaves in the stew and that's about it.

America sat down and looked down at the stew skeptically. 'You'll never know until you try it.' He thought. Russia watched patiently, he found it interesting how he would react. In his opinion, his own food is really good, then again, everyone thinks his or her home-cooking is best. America brought the spoon to his mouth and slowly swallowed the soup. His facial expression changed as he thought about the taste. The stew itself wasn't that bad but he felt as though it could use a boost. Yet again, he wasn't the biggest fan of cabbage. He looked up to the patiently awaiting Russia. "Well..." He didn't want to offend him in anyway. "It's not bad, but have you ever thought about adding a little something else to it?" Russia didn't seem angry at all, even took it to consideration. "I didn't put as much cabbage as I would have liked..." "That would probably help too. However, if you want to increase the flavour you might want to try adding some meat. Maybe some smoked ham or corned beef or something." Alfred suggested taking another sip of the stew. Once you got used to the taste it really wasn't so bad. He smiled to Ivan, giving him a thumbs up overall.

Russia smiled back and took the second empty bowl, plopping something from the second pot in. He gave the bowl to America, putting the one with the cabbage stew to the side. The bowl had what looked like boiled ground beef with some sticky white paste holding it together in a weak beef broth. "Meat and animal fat. The fat is important and keeps you from...well dying in General Winter." America looked down into the bowl. 'That doesn't look very good..' He thought to himself as he poked at the paste with his spoon. He thought on what Russia had said about using animal fat to prevent freezing to death. "Hmph, that's pretty smart. Does it really make a big difference?" Russia nodded. "It makes all the difference if you live miles from civilization." "Interesting." America shrugged and picked up a bit in the spoon. He was tempted to smell it before he ate it but decided otherwise as the Russian watched him. As soon as he put it in his mouth his expression turned sour. He tried to hide it was he chewed and got used to the texture and flavor.

"Very good, yes? The fat usually is served raw, but I heated it along with the meat." Russia said. America forced himself to swallow it down before coughing slightly. "Indescribable." Well, he wasn't lying... Russia looked at him for a while before doing anything. "If you loved that one, I bet you'll love the next." He took the plate away and set it aside. "Oh really?" America laughed nervously as he mentally panicked and glanced around for something to wash it down with. He hoped the next dish didn't have as much animal fat. It clung to the roof of his mouth. Russia took the last bowl and filled it with something from the last pot. He set it down. "This is very traditional dish, Borscht. It's served cold." The broth of it was clear like water but red like jello. Thick slices of what looked like beets floated in there and so did big white cubes... "Its made of beets and raw animal fat. And lots of Russian Water." Animal fat. Just as he had hoped for. America cringed at the thought of it being mixed with vodka. "Phew, ya know what bud? Those last two really filled me up." He lied and it was a terrible one at that. He looked up at Russia nervously. Russia's friendly looking smile could easily be over looked by the way his purple eyes stared right at America, if looks could kill...let's say, it would happen here. "You must eat entire bowl, very disrespectful to host. And I just had Magic Metal Pipe of Pain polished too."

'Whole bowl...?' America's nervous smile dropped as he looked into the Russian's eyes. He could feel the dark aura start to resonate from him. "Hahaha, well I definitely wouldn't want to be disrespectful. After all the trouble you must have gone through to make it." He tried to lighten the tension. He immediately reached once again for the spoon and quickly dipped it into the bowl. He held his breath and swallowed it quickly. "And do slow down, we don't want you to choke do we? You can't taste it if you eat it like that." Russia said. America rapidly dipped the spoon drinking the soup quickly, "Oh don't worry!" He said talking between dips, "I never choke!-gulp-But it's so good!-gulp-I can't help it!" He then picked up the bowl itself and tilted it back to chug what was remaining. 'Almost finished.' He thought to himself.

"I'm glad you like it so, because I have whole pot! And I'll even throw in extra animal fat because you like it so much." Russia chimed. 'Oh God...' America slammed the bowl on the table. "You've really done enough already. That really filled me up!" He started to sweat hoping he would keep what he drank in his stomach. The aftertaste was horrible. "You should definitely save some for the other bros." He referred to the Baltics. He wondered if they had to eat this kind of food all the time. "They already had their share, it was them who said you like trying new things and gave me the idea." Russia smiled. There was a bottle of vodka on the counter, actually many bottles and different brands and flavours. "That was nice of them...And thank you of course for inviting me over and letting me try some." America felt as though he was being rude. Russia meant well but...For some reason the food just wasn't settling right with him. America gaze eventually travelled to the vodka. 'It really is Russian water, huh?' He thought as he looked over the variety. Russia picked up an unopened bottle. "Would you like to take a few shots with me? Surely you hold your liquor better than England." He took two shot glasses from a nearby shelf. Being America, of course he wanted to prove that he could hold more liquor than Iggy. He took it as a challenge, not even thinking of the consequences he may face from drinking vodka with all the stew he just chugged. "I don't see why not." He said with an arrogant grin.

"Good." Russia opened up the bottle and filled his and America's glass. "England wouldn't live up to five, I'm sure the United States could do ten, yes?" He downed his first shot quickly. "Ten, eh?" America took a hold of his shot glass and threw it back before clinking it back on the table. "That should be easy." "We'll see, we'll see..." Russia refilled the glasses quickly to the rim with precision. America chuckled, grabbing the next one. He held it out to Russia as some of the liquid ran down the side. "Cheers." Russia raised his own shot glass, and hit it against America's, it had a satisfying clinking noise after. "Ypa."

America threw back the second shot, closing his eyes as he gulped it down. Once it was gone he set the glass back on the table, rather loudly, and released a long satisfied breath. Russia drank the shot and didn't even look dizzied by it. It was rather strong vodka too, and he downs it as if it was nothing. "You're rounds away from that ten of yours." He commented and filled the glass again. "What's that supposed to mean?" America smirked, "We're just getting started." It was starting to kick in but America acted as if he was fine. He observed Russia as he picked up the next glass. "What's your record?" He asked curiously before drinking the shot.

"Don't really remember...It's somewhere over 31 to 45, but I do remember when it was. I had a terrible winter during some war, I almost forgot that there was a war when I woke up the next morning. Almost ended up in the middle of the battlefield. It was the war I had with Japan, the Russo-Japanese War if I recall correctly." He admitted with a smile. It crushed a hunk of his pride in the process. He drunk his shot and refilled it at his own leisure. America quietly cursed. Over 31? It only took a human around 20 or so to kill him. America was impressed yet he couldn't help but wonder if that was something to be proud about. America frowned. "War can be a bitch." It causes so much pain and conflict between nations. It breaks bonds and creates grudges that could last a lifetime. The alcohol was starting to take it's effect. "I'm gonna find...A solution." Russia quietly listened to America's words. "War will push family away, and leave you alone...But that is worse than Disappearing. Disappearing is slow and painful, being alone causes more emotional pain and terror than you could ever imagine." He referred to everyone deserting him after the Soviet Union; they had all been family to him...

America nodded in agreement. "Sometimes your worst enemy is yourself..." He slid his glass over to Russia to be refilled. "Da." Russia filled America's glass and his own. He drank it a bit more slowly, taking the time to take in all the flavours. America gulped it down and held the empty glass in his hand. How many had he taken now? His speech was starting to slur. "Ya know what really irrtatez me?" "Hmm?" Russia refilled the shot glass while he was still holding it. He filled his own and drank it as well. "When your people...Your own people! Go against you." America rolled his eyes. "They dun't understund how hard we work!...For them!" He leaned back, downing the next shot. The edge of his vision going blurry, even though he had glasses on. "Yes. Like over throwing your boss." Russia agreed with him and filled the glasses again. America moved the glass in circles on the table. It wasn't settling right on his stomach but he paid no mind. He was focused on the conversation. "They go as far as killing the innocent...To get what they want. Psh!" He got off topic. "Did you hear what the Italians did to that Moose guy?" "No. News like that travel slow here. What did the Italians do to that Moose man, Alfred?" Russia answered. "Wait. Was it the Moose guy?" America asked himself. His conscious was starting to get a bit hazy. He laughed before drinking the shot.

Russia chuckled a bit in his signature laugh and filled the shot glass again. "Take it easy." "There's no such thing as easy in life!" America said, the alcohol obviously taking effect. He pushed the still full shot to Russia, expecting him to refill it. Russia pretended to fill it and he walked around the table. "I think that's quite enough..." He nudged him up to his feet. America looked to the shot sadly before looking to Russia. The room started to spin as he stood. "Hey Rushing, I don't feel so good..." "I know, come, I'll let you rest." Russia helped America to the living room and sat him down on the couch. "Stay." He commanded and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water and gave it to him. "Sober up." America blinked looking at the bottle of water. "I told ya ten was easy." He reached out to the multiple Russias. "That was only eight. Drink the water." Russia instructed. "Aw..." America pouted and took a sip of water. "C'mon, I take three more!" He said leaning his head against the couch. "No, you'll hurt yourself. Don't want a bad hangover do you?" Russia's voice was more gentle in a hushed tone. "Stay still."

"But I'm so close..." America sighed loudly as his eyelids started to grow heavy. "I'm sure you'll get it next time." Russia hushed him and took the water so he wouldn't spill it. He even put a cushion just in case America passed out. America started to doze. His head leant against the couch. He mumbled something incomprehensible. Russia took America's glasses and folded them, putting them on the coffee table. He went into the kitchen and cleaned up, and returned to the living room. He sat down at the couch and took out his knitting yarn and hooks, he was making mittens and hasn't finished yet. It was nice having company.

To be continued

The_Afterhours: What happens next? Well, let's say the 'party' dragged out longer than it was meant! Read Relic to find out!