A/N: Yes, I am updating this one irregularly, and I apologize for that. Don't worry, all of the other stories will get updated in due time as well!
.
Day 8
Today, Collins told me that my behavior has become more suitable for a superpower nation. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. I hope that means I can leave the sight of him and his goons soon. I miss my brother. He was the only nation who would sneak around to see me when I needed him, and now he's gone. I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't have contact with the others like me soon. I feel like I'm going crazy sitting in the Oval Office all day every day. Something needs to be done, and it needs to be done fast.
America snapped his journal shut and sighed as Collins looked up from the sudden noise. He glared over at the president and frowned. Though he knew he could overpower the man at the desk, he knew how terrible that would look on his image as a nation. And besides, that would be breaking the one rule every nation swore upon at the beginning of their nationhood.
That one rule was that they would not harm their leaders or the leaders of any other nation, no matter what the leader may do. Then again, that rule had been made hundreds to thousands of years before, since time had begun. Couldn't they just break it already? Especially in a time this desperate?
Trying to make as much noise as possible, America switched positions in his chair. He was glad that the president at least had a more comfortable chair brought in for him instead of some old, rickety wooden chair. America would've made a huge fuss otherwise, and Collins knew that.
Collins looked up from his paperwork and shot America a look that was the equivalent to daggers. "Do you mind?" he asked. "I am quite busy with some paperwork."
"Oh, I don't mind at all," the nation simply answered. "I quite enjoy being held captive by my own leader. It brings such joy to my heart to be able to spend so much quality time with you. Why didn't you think of this before?" Every word coming out of his mouth was dripping with sarcasm, and he didn't care anymore. To him, consequences meant nothing. He was America, Alfred Freedom Jones. Too bad there wasn't any freedom to speak of anymore.
"I would appreciate it if you would stop," Collins sighed, eyes returning to his paperwork.
"And I would appreciate it if I didn't have to sit here anymore," America shot back. "My middle name is Freedom for a reason, Mr. President! Now give it back!"
"We have been over this multiple times," Collins groaned. "You know why I can't do that. Alfred, the company you keep isn't exactly the best for your country. You need to start thinking of your people and what's best for them. That's what I'm doing by doing this, because you obviously don't care about your people anymore."
"Bullshit!" America shouted, standing up. "What makes you say that?!"
"If you really cared about your people, you wouldn't be fraternizing with other nations the way you do," the president said, gaze on America unwavering. "You would be more careful with the way you speak with Russia and China. Don't think I don't know about the arguments you get into at world meetings. Why else do you think I put up that travel ban?"
"You said that was to keep the terrorists out!" America's mouth fell open as he sat there, dumbfounded with shock.
"No, Alfred," Collins told him, an evil smile on his face. "It was to keep you in."
.
Canada took a deep breath as he stepped into the airport in Moscow, Russia. He hoped that he was in the right place. Russia had said Moscow, right? He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the email just to make sure, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that he was right. At least he had gotten one thing right on the first try that day.
He craned his neck to look for the tall nation, hoping that he was on time to pick him up. Knowing Russia, he was there early to make sure that he was there on time to pick up his friend. Russia was always considerate like that, no matter how scary and intimidating he may seem.
Sure enough, there was Russia, patiently waiting as he tapped his foot along to the music playing through the earbuds in his ears. He must've been there for awhile if he was listening to music that intensely. Canada could only hope that Russia wasn't irritable for waiting for so long.
"Canada!" Russia cheerfully greeted when he walked over, pulling the younger nation into a hug that he couldn't refuse. "How was your flight? I hope it wasn't too bad!"
The smaller nation struggled to find his words. "No, not at all," he finally said, voice coming out as more of a mumble than anything.
"You're going to have to speak up if you want to be heard," Russia told him. "The airport is a pretty loud place, friend!" He smiled a bright, cheery smile that chilled Canada to the bone.
Hold yourself together, Canada told himself. Russia isn't that scary. You can do this. You're doing this for your brother. Just remember that. "I came to ask you a favor."
"And what kind of favor would that be?" the tall nation asked, leading the way out of the airport and to a waiting car. He opened the door for Canada, who climbed in, sliding over so Russia could get in on the same side. "I hope you're not up to something too illegal, my friend."
Canada's eyes widened. "Il-Illegal?" he stammered. "No way." He shook his head quickly. "Y-You've got it all wrong, Russia."
"Do I?" the other nation asked. He smiled mischievously. "We both know why you're here, Matthew. You're here because you need my help to save your brother, da?" His smile grew wider when his eyes rested on Canada's look of pure astonishment. "Now, the real question is, why did you choose to come to me about it instead of someone else who is closer to your brother than I am? In case you haven't noticed, America and I aren't exactly the best of friends."
"That's exactly why I am asking you," Canada answered, struggling to find his full confidence. "You see, France, England, and I figured that it would be best to find a nation that he's having tension with right now to help us come up with a plan to help him. That way, their friendship won't get in the way of the rescue. And it will be someone that they won't be expecting."
"I like how you think," Russia stated. His mind was already formulating many different plans. "I'm sure I can think of something if given some time. Do you think America will be safe for about another week longer?"
"He seems to be safe," Canada said with a nod. "It's just that we think he's under something similar to house arrest. We were thinking that maybe he has to spend every day with Collins or something."
Russia chuckled. "Don't make me laugh. That just sound ridiculous. What kind of a president would put themselves through sitting with your brother all day every day like that?"
Now that he thought about it, Canada's worries about America being trapped in the Oval Office did sound a bit ridiculous to him. He laughed a little nervously with Russia. "I suppose you're right about that," he admitted. "No one in their right mind would want to be trapped with my brother for that long…" Though deep down, he was still worried that something bad might have happened to America. It sucked being on the outside and unable to even look in.
"Don't worry about him, Canada," the other nation advised. "I'm sure he's fine. America is always bragging about how he can handle so many things on his own. I'm sure he can handle this 'imprisonment' just a little bit longer. Just long enough for me to think of a plan."
"So you'll do it?" Canada asked, struggling to keep the excitement from his voice.
"Of course I will!" Russia said, wide smile reappearing on his face. "It's because my friend asked me to, and I would never tell a friend no when they're so desperate!"
"Heh, thanks," the younger nation sighed. He looked out the window as the car stopped. "I see we've made it to your house."
"And I can see that you're tired. I asked Latvia to prepare a bed for you." Russia opened the door and got out of the car. "The jet lag must be killing you. Why don't you get some rest, Canada?"
"That actually sounds wonderful. Thank you, Russia," he answered, grateful that the other nation had been so thoughtful. After he was shown his room, he was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow.
.
Russia sat in the sitting room of his home, pondering what to do about America. Sure, they didn't get along, but it wasn't as if they were best friends either. It was some weird middle-ground with a lot of awkward tension that Russia didn't exactly understand. There were times that he wanted to crush that loud American's windpipe, but then there were times that he just wanted to take him in his arms and just give him all the love in the world. And those times would come back-to-back, almost like some sort of vicious cycle. He didn't like it one bit. If there was a situation that Russia couldn't sort his feelings out on, he would just forget about it, yet why couldn't he just forget about this one?
Oh, that's right. Because he was supposed to rescue America. But what would America do if he saw that it was him coming to his rescue instead of England or someone like that? Russia knew that America didn't like him all that much, but he couldn't help but wish that they got along better for some reason.
Now for a plan. How was he going to sneak into a country that didn't allow anyone from any other country inside? He knew that if he were to enter America, the country would know immediately. All nations could sense when another nation had crossed their borders, and they always knew exactly which nation it was as well. The thing was, how could he sneak into America without surprising him enough to have him tip off whoever he was with? That was going to be the tricky part.
Russia leaned back and sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. He could just see America jumping up in front of his president and exclaiming, "Oh, my God! What is Russia doing here?!" Why had Canada come to him again?
At least there was one blessing to the sense of nations knowing another nation was in their borders. They never knew exactly where the other nation was. If something like what he had imagined were to happen, there were plenty of places in the States for him to hide. All he needed to do was work on his American accent. No big deal.
He held his head in his hands as he thought. What a hassle. Was it really going to be worth it in the end? Was it really worth it to get America back at the meetings?
Why was he even thinking such things? Of course it was! Russia had seen how desperate and distraught Canada had been when talking about his brother! America needed his freedom back, and Russia was going to have to be the one to help him. He had no choice but to be. After all, who else would be able to help if not him?
He smiled as the perfect plan suddenly came to his mind. Sure, it may not be the most perfect plan, but it was the only thing he could really think of. Russia knew he was going to be risking a lot, but if it would get America back, then it would be worth it.
Russia ran to Canada's guest room to tell him and saw the sleeping nation out cold on the bed. He smiled to himself when he saw how much Canada looked like America when sleeping. His mind sure thought weird things sometimes. He decided to save his idea for a when Canada woke up, hoping that the other nation would approve. If he didn't approve, then there may not be hope.
.
America sat in the Oval Office two days later, still sulking over the truth about the travel ban. He was still so furious with Collins. He just couldn't believe that his own leader would lie to him like that. Though Collins tried to assure him that he was only worried about the safety of his citizens, America was convinced that there were ulterior motives behind the travel ban. He just couldn't figure it out yet. Maybe if he listened in to Collins's conversations, he could figure out what all of it was about.
So far, from what he could tell, Collins had fairly normal conversations, unless if he were talking in code to people. And that very well could be. Maybe "lunch at 11:45 sounds great" was code for "yes, we should torture our country more". As far as he knew, it could be code for anything!
Was he becoming paranoid? That very well could be as well. America tended to jump at every small sound. Collins had sneezed that morning and America had exclaimed, "What the fuck?!" before attempting to cover it up with a "Bless you," after a stern look from both the president and the members of the Secret Service.
Things were starting to look pretty grim for America as each day passed in the Oval Office. And with each passing day, he began to lose more and more hope. Was this his leader's way of lowering his morale, cutting off all of his ties with the rest of the world? Well, it was working pretty damn well. Everything seemed hopeless for him.
Suddenly a jolt went through America, causing him to flinch. A nation had just entered his country. His blue eyes widened behind his glasses when he realized who the nation was. No. There was no way that nation would come to his rescue like that. He must be here to spy or something. That was just great. Should he tell Collins?
"Is something wrong over there?" Collins asked him in an annoyed tone.
America looked over at his president, a wave of annoyance and hatred for the man washing over him at the sight of his face. "No," he said. "Just got a cold chill. Turn up the heat, will ya? It's freezing in here."
Collins rolled his eyes and muttered something about an ungrateful brat before turning back to the papers on his desk.
The young nation stared down into his lap, wishing he could grab his phone and text the nation, asking what he was doing there, but that would cause trouble. But seriously. Russia?
