It was another World Meeting for the countries, this time held in Poland's capital, and there was a palpable tension among the European nations. Most of them were aware of the silent war being waged in Russia's government, and those who did not still knew better than to approach the aggravated Slavic country. The large nation was easily irritated, and almost all of the other countries kept their distance so as not to bring on a violent rage.
Almost all of them.
The one country that was Russia's constant companion, surprisingly enough, was none other than America. The western nation considered Russia a good friend, despite all the two countries had put each other through.
America was more vocal about his country's problems than Russia was. He would talk about all the things that were bothering him, from a difficult war to a long line at McDonald's. Russia would listen quietly to the younger nation prattle on, commenting here and there.
Now, Russia, on the other hand, would only speak of the small problems, never the things that really bothered him. You could tell things were bad in his country when the larger nation didn't say anything. That was why America was so worried about Russia lately. The Eurasian country had said absolutely nothing throughout the entire meeting, nothing at all. His face was completely blank, his mind clearly not on the meeting.
While England droned on about something only mildly important, America leaned over the arm of his chair to ask in a hushed tone, "Dude, what's up with you? You've been completely out of it through the whole meeting...Usually I'm the one spacing out at these things, big guy. Don't you care about what's going on? Especially with that arms agreement that Germany wants to get passed...I would've thought you'd have something to say about that...Russia?"
Russia didn't seem to acknowledge the American country at all, his purple eyes focusing on something not there. "они следовать не*...зачем*? как мог этот происходить*?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
America blinked in confusion. After spending so much time with the other nation, not to mention all the immigrants that he got from the icy country, he had learned a little bit of Russian, though he still wasn't very good at speaking or understanding it. "What? Man, did you get hammered before coming here? You're not making any sense," Alfred said, trying to laugh off Russia's strange behavior.
Russia's eyes slid over to glance at the blond nation, though they were clouded over and clearly did not really see America. "H-Help me...," he abruptly choked out, his usually adamant voice tinged with fear.
America was about to call the beige haired man out on his joke - for this had to be a joke, Russia never showed fear to anyone - but he stopped himself as he noticed the steadily growing patch of red on the Slavic country's chest, staining through the suit jacket he was wearing. "What the hell...," he muttered in disbelief, his blue eyes widening.
"America...They're attacking...Moscow...You have to-" Ivan breathed, but his eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness, whatever he was saying going unfinished.
"Holy...England, shut up and get over here!" Alfred yelled, bolting out of his seat to keep Russia from falling out of his chair; the larger man's body completely limp.
England paused in his long-winded speech, and glared at the loud outburst from America. When he saw the fearful look on the younger country's face, as well as the unconscious Russia, he stiffled the whithering remark that almost came from his mouth. "What in the world...," he muttered under his breath in confusion. Clearing his throat, he turned to Poland, who was heading the meeting. "May I call for a break in the meeting, Poland?" Arthur asked, scanning the group of gathered countries to see who had noticed whatever it was that was going on with Russia. So far, it only appeared to be those seated closest to the Eurasian nation that had picked up on the situation, though they seemed to be trying to stay out of it for the most part.
"That's, like, fine with me. I was starting to want a snack anyway," Feliks stated obliviously, closely inspecting his nails.
The other countries agreed to the break, and slowly filed out of the meeting room; chatting and arguing amongst themselves.
England made his way through the press of bodies until he forced his way over to America and Russia, a slight scowl on his face. "What the bloody hell is going on here? It had better be important, you just put a pause in a world meeting...While I was speaking no less...," he grumbled.
America ignored the island nation's annoyed tone, a worried expression on his face as he kept a steady hold on Russia's shoulders. "Of course it's fucking important! Ivan doesn't make a habit of passing out during meetings!" Alfred bit out, shooting a look at the Brit.
"Well, care to explain what happened before he passed out? You called me over for my help, did you not?" Arthur sniffed, crossing his arms in a show of mild displeasure at being talked to in such a manner.
"I...don't really know. Ivan was out of it the entire meeting, not paying a lick of attention to anything. Then, he started muttering some gibberish in Russian, but none of it made any sense. He asked for my help...and that's when I saw the blood," Alfred recounted, indicating the large spot of red on the Russsian's chest.
England remained silent as America explained things, watching his former colony thoughtfully. America, though prone to over reactions, didn't get like this very often, so he knew it was something quite serious. England shifted his attention to Russia, his expression darkening slightly. "It couldn't have been an attack from another country...Everyone was here. They would have no where to escape without being identified by the rest of the world," he mused, trying to understand what was going on.
France, who had been seated fairly close to America, came up to the other countries, confusion written on his fair face. "What is going on? Why was the meeting postponed?" he inquired, falling quiet when his eyes came to see Russia.
"Bloody hell! Don't sneak up on me like that, you filthy frog! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Arthur yelled, surprised by the Frenchman's sudden appearance. "Why are you here? I thought you'd be off trying to woo some unfortunate gal," he hissed, glaring at the blond.
"When I saw the two of you over here, not leaving the conference room with the others, I decided to come and ask as to why the meeting was cut short...But I think I can guess," Francis replied, his ocean blue eyes zoning in on the splash of red on Russia's chest. "What happened to Russie*?"
"I believe something's happened internally...Possibly another rebellion," Arthur murmured, his hand coming up to his chin in thought.
"Internally? Like in the government, you mean?" Alfred asked, adjusting his glasses as they started to slip down his nose. "I knew there were some problems over there, but not anything that would lead to this..."
France gave the sandy blond an incredulous look. "What? I thought you two were quite close, do you not talk about when you're facing hard times? Even Angleterre* and I converse when things are difficult," he said, somewhat surprised at the American's lack of information on Russia's current troubles.
America frowned at that. "Sure we talk! Well...at least I talk...Ivan just listens most of the time," Alfred replied haltingly, feeling guilty. If I didn't talk so much all the time, would he have said something to me?
"Nyet*, Alfred...I know what you are thinking. I still would not have said anything to you," Ivan slurred out, sending the other nations about three feet in the air out of surprise.
"Why not? We're friends, right big guy?" Alfred burst out, after he had recovered from his shock.
Russia gave a stiff nod, rising somewhat unsteadily from his seat. "Listen very carefully to me, Alfred...I didn't tell you of my government's growing problems because I knew you would try to fix it-"
"Of course I would've! Like I said, we're friends, so-"
"Let me finish," Ivan ground out in a tone that America hadn't heard since the Cold War.
America fell silent.
"I didn't want you getting involved precisely because of the fact that we are friends. Although, seeing how things have gone now, maybe I should have approached it differently and asked for foriegn help...," Ivan muttered, running a trembling hand through his short beige hair. He let out a short puff of air, wincing when the action made his chest wound twinge painfully. He let his hand fall back to his side, but the tremor persisted in his arm quite visibly. "A new regime of communist idealists slowly started to gain entry into my government several years back. We thought nothing of them since they had hardly any supporters, but that has proved to be a severe mistake. They began gathering more and more sympathizers, and last year they made a threat on the current government, boasting about how they could capture Moscow in one day...We assumed they were bluffing, that they were grasping at straws," he continued, his lip curled in self-loathing.
"N-No...You wouldn't let that happen...Ivan...," Alfred said in utter disbelief, shaking his head numbly.
"They struck at Moscow...I didn't know until just now, when it happened during the meeting. They've taken complete control, and I know I'll be following soon...," Ivan spat, giving America a rather forlorn look.
"Stop lying, damn it...This isn't happening!" Alfred shouted, grabbing the larger country by the collar and shaking him roughly. "Say something, you stupid bastard! You're Russia! You can kick their commie asses into space, so why didn't you do anything? What happened to "Russia doesn't compromise"? Hell, this is worse than compromising, this is surrender! Since when were you someone else's bitch to roll over for whenever they tell you to?" he demanded, a fierce snarl on his lightly tanned face.
"Despite what they stood for, they were still my people! I'm so damn sick of tearing myself apart because of the differences in my peoples' views...I just couldn't do it! I couldn't fight against my own people, not again, Alfred," Ivan retorted, his purple eyes boring into America's sapphire blue ones.
America froze, seeing the raw emotion in Russia's eyes. He dropped his hands from the larger man's collar, backing off. "I...I'm sorry. I just got a little carried away," he mumbled, not breaking eye contact with the other. America bit his lip, thinking back to the worst war he had suffered through: his civil war. That had been the darkest moment in his history.
Russia shifted his gaze to the other European countries, England and France gulping nervously when the Eurasian's cold eyes turned on them. "Tell every other country you can to prepare for war. You can't hold anything back. I won't be in a right state of mind when next we meet, not under my own control or thoughts, so don't attempt anything diplomatic. I will not return any gestures of peace, so do not offer any. This will be a conquest that involves the whole world; I will attack all who do not join me, and I will invade those who stand against me. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked in a strained voice, like it was becoming hard to speak.
The two nations nodded numbly, attempting to process everything. France quickly ran from the room to spread the word, but England hesitated. "Why are you telling us this? It...It makes no bloody sense!" Arthur exclaimed, still trying to wrap his head around all of this.
"Because...I need you to stop me," Ivan answered slowly, shifting closer to America. He pulled the smaller country into a crushing bear hug, whispering something into the blond's ear.
America yelped in surprise at the abrupt embrace, his eyes narrowing as Russia whispered into his ear. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat as he felt warm tears splash onto his neck, and he returned the Russian's hug with an equal ferocity. He ignored the blood that had soaked into his white dress shirt, staring after the larger country as he ended the embrace and quickly left the meeting room. Sapphire blue eyes blinked rapidly, determined to not spill tears of their own. "We need to put off the meeting, Artie. Let everyone get ready for war, discuss things with their bosses, and then we'll get together and figure out a plan of action," he said in a slightly wavering voice, gathering his things from the table.
"Alfred, what did he say to you?" Arthur demanded, his green eyes narrowed.
America paused, glancing away from the older country. "I can't tell you right now...But when I find what I need to, you'll be the first person I tell," Alfred responded dodgedly, sprinting out of the room before the island nation could pry any further. Russia had left this information to him, and he needed to see for himself that it was true.
они следовать не: They should not In Russian
зачем: Why In Russian
как мог этот происходить: How could this happen In Russian
Russie: Russia In French
Angleterre: England In Russian
Nyet: No In Russian