America:

"They're… alive? Then what... Why?" His head turned to me with one bushy eyebrow raised.

"Why are they alive?"

"No. Why are you keeping me here? Why didn't you tell me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I glared at him, shuddering as I remembered his brutal beatings. "What the fuck do you stand to gain in all of this if they're still alive? Just watching me suffer… are you really that sick?" I watched him flinch under the weight of my accusations. His eyebrows furrowed and he turned back to the fire, bringing the bottle back to his lips for another gulp. He frowned and turned the bottle upside down, holding it above his open mouth until a single drop fell out. I was seething.

I jumped from my seat and stalked over to him. He showed no interest in my approach, but instead focused sad eyes on his empty bottle. I lurched forward and smacked it violently out of his hands. It flew across the room and collided with the wall, shattering into a million sparkling fragments. I grabbed him up by his collar and he stared blankly back at me.

"I asked you a question, Ivan," I uttered darkly.

"You asked me a couple, Amerika." My fist collided with his face, as he stared back. His lip cracked and began bleeding as blood dripped from my knuckles on to the floor.

"I asked you, a fucking question," I leaned in menacingly.

"They're alive. I've said that before, or have you already forgotten?" My hand loosened on his collar as I was overwhelmed with emotion. I felt like I was falling and floating at the same time. They were alive… But then… if they were actually alive, why was I still here? Someone would have gone looking for me, and the most logical place to start would be Russia's house.

"You're lying."

"Nyet, I am not."

"You have to be lying. Why else would I still be here? Someone would have come for me!" Violet eyes shone from under his bangs, "but what would I gain by lying now?"

I don't know. There's got to be something, some trick he's playing…

"I… don't know," I muttered to myself.

"Nothing, Alfred. I stand to gain nothing. Just leave. Go find them, or whatever you want to do now, but leave before I do something stupid."

"…something stupid? Like, kidnap me and torture me for months straight, keeping me from the fragment of information which might have made my life bearable? Something stupid like that?"

"Something stupid like save you from imminent demise, bleeding to death in the battlefield and carrying you back here. Yes, something stupid. Just leave."

"You call this saving me? Strangling me until I'm ready to fight back?"

"Something like that… just please, go," he stood from his chair and circled toward me like a predatory cat.

"Please go? You're asking me for something now? You have the fucking audacity to-MMMPH" He had stepped toward me suddenly and entangled his fingers in my hair, pulling me roughly toward him. His lips were suffocating mine and I paused for a moment, feeling the gentleness behind his lips before pushing him back roughly and letting him fall to the ground. He refused to meet my eyes, instead looking at the ground beside him.

"Just go," he whispered, and I went.

I threw the door open and stepped out into the tundra. My feet were bare and I wore only the slightest of clothing. A shiver ripped through my body and I prepared myself to face the long walk back to civilization.

Russia:

It was a few minutes before I stood and closed the door behind him, shivering only slightly at the draft. He had rejected me after I had finally figured out why I had wanted him. He was the stallion that could never be tamed and I watched him grow into something strong, and bright, and magnificently beautiful. I had always been watching him, waiting for him to fail, and fall and become broken inside like the rest of us. But as much as he suffered, he still shone and galloped brilliantly through blooded battlefields and broken towns. Blood would stain the world around him, but he stood pristine, somehow still angelic surrounded by suffering. I wanted to tame him. I wanted to wrap myself up in the warmth and light which surrounded him, so when he fell, I felt cold –colder than I ever had. We had suffered and starved, but through all of the horrors and torments, I relied on him. The sun would always rise tomorrow and Alfred would always be extraordinary. I hated him for it. I wanted to break him down and show in him everything I knew in me. But more than I hated him, I loved him. And for that I hated him even more.