A new story! Le gasp~~ I'm actually not being a lazy-ass bitch and I wrote something! *grumbles* But stupid fanfiction (dot net) keeps erasing every line break I make...and when I abbreviate the site to ff (dot net) it bitches at me...
Many thanks to my lovely friend the-shadows-have-magic who cleaned up my plot, turned it from humorous lighter fare to this angst-fest, and even wrote little bits and pieces here and there~ Yay~
My OTP, RusAme. What else did you expect with a title like this? From me, no less. Oh, and немного подсолнечника means little sunflower.
Don't own, sorry for OOCness, all the other stuff that could possibly come up I apologize in advance for and blame my laziness/sheer stupidity. 8D Here we go~~~!
EDIT: I went through and fixed it up for continuity's sake, and also for accuracy.
немного подсолнечника means little sunflower. Blame Google for mistakes. I know nothing.
Russia shivered slightly. One minute it was warm, lying here next to his America, like a little piece of summer in this cold winter, cocooned in blankets and the lingering feeling of love, and the next he could see his breath crystallize in front of him, limbs feeling like they were suddenly being doused in ice water.
He clutched America more possessively and opened his eyes to see General Winter staring him in the face. "General!" He hissed. "What are you doing here?" The General didn't seem to register his words and continued to circle him. "America? Really, son?"
"I am not your son, and please leave!" He glared, conjuring up his purple aura to match, trying to make him leave before America could wake up. Too late. America stirred at his side, blinking sleepily and shuddered slightly. "Cold, isn't it...?" He looked up and saw General Winter watching him with a calculating expression. "It's a ghost. It's a ghost." He looked as though he was trying to choke back a scream. Well, that was something; at least he wasn't shrieking and panicking like he used to at those stupid horror movies.
Russia combed his fingers through his hair soothingly. "Sh, Америка. It's only General Winter, немного подсолнечника." America seemed to calm slightly, gripping his hand painfully tightly. "Right. Only General Winter. Only General Winter." He chanted this like a mantra, trying to slow his breathing.
General Winter watched, looking slightly annoyed. "Only General Winter? Have you forgotten what I can do?" He waved his hand, causing the air temperature in the room to plummet. America inhaled sharply as the spirit drew nearer to him. Russia's aura deepened, seeming to stain the room with a deep purple. "You are not suitable for him. You never will be, America." He spat, pronouncing America's name as if it was a terrible curse. "Stay away from my son."
Russia finally snapped, ineffectually pushing and shoving at him and aura of scariness enveloping them, scowl leaving little arrows in the air. Somehow, America didn't quite mind the high levels of doom surrounding him, but General Winter seemed to get the picture. Raising himself with a dignified glare, he disappeared with a loud crack, the warmth flooding back into the room. America gasped a little, looking pale. "немного подсолнечника, don't be sad." He wrapped his arms comfortingly around him, trying as best he could to act motherly and kind like Ukraine had been to him so long ago.
"Right." He mumbled, not looking entirely convinced.
!_!_!_!_!_!_!
Russia massaged his forehead and sighed, leaning against one of the park's many light posts, watching the incandescent lightbulb throw pools of light around his tall shadow. Another smaller shadow came up behind him, but he made no movement to turn around or face whoever it was. A pair of warm arms wrapped around his middle, and he sighed again, this time in contentment.
"Stupid UN meetings, I don't even know why they send us if they know nothing gets done. I guess they need us to do something, 'cause countries hanging around doing nothing are just a waste." He pulled his America (he stressed the possessive) closer to him and listened to him talk, not really paying attention but somehow knowing what he was saying. Burying his face in his hair, he inhaled his scent, something like cut grass and sea water with the lingering smell of ashes, like sunshine and happiness and freedom with an undertone of deep sadness and nostalgia-
The air grew colder. "Dammit." He clutched America's hands more tightly and turned around, looking around wildly for his incorporeal form. "I thought I told you to stop following me." The lights flickered and went out, plunging the world into darkness. America shivered. "You told me no such thing!" General Winter's voice echoed. Scowling angrily into the shadows, he spat, "I told you to go away. That should be enough!"
Winter hissed in fury. "You dare drive me away? I, who have cared and aided you in times of need? I, who come back every year to see you and never left you behind? I, who drove your foes away when you could fight no more? I have done naught but try to help, and you will not take my simple advice!"
"Since when were you my overprotective father?"
"You have no one else to knock some sense into you; you can't see how easily you will break."
America felt like he was in a daze. His boyfriend was yelling at a ghost-calm down Alfred don't scream-like a teenage girl fighting with her father. The thought would have made him laugh if it wasn't under such circumstances. Winter finally shimmered into dull view, constantly shifting like fog or snow, barely visible at times.
"I only want you to be safe, to be strong enough to crush them all under your feet when you must! How can you be sure of-of...this?" He cried out, gesturing at America. He thought he could feel his cold fingers brush against his skin, sinking through his flesh and burning painfully. Mouth parted slightly in a silent scream, he looked to Russia.
His violet eyes were cold and distant, a flash of doubt in his eyes. That was all that was needed. He might have said something. He might have tried to assuage the fear he could see now, the pained expression that accused him before hardening as he backed away. General Winter seemed satisfied and let his hand sink lower, ignoring America's violent trembling as he felt ice course through his veins.
Winter nudged him. "Go." He blew gently at the dim, faraway lights barely illuminating the street like he was snuffing out a candle, and everything grew pitch black.
Dun dun dun dun dun dunnnn! Next chapter coming up soon, it's a bit of a filler chapter before we move onto the action (and blood and guts what?). I've got nothing else to say.