Here's a follow-up fic for my Kit(oc)/Russia pairing. I wanna explore Russia's character a little more. I'll try to do this as well as I can, but I doubt it'll be as awesome as I hope. Allons-y~!

~Silver

Scars

Russia was in a compromising position. How had this gotten so out of hand so quickly? It started simply enough. He had invited his close friend (the only close friend he had) to see a couple of classic Russian films with him at his house. She had gladly agreed, as long as they used subtitles, and had soon arrived. A few hours later, Russia found himself in...a situation.

Kit had fallen asleep: it had been pretty obvious that she was tired. He supposed she had had a long day. She said she spent it with Romano, so it MUST have been exhausting. How she managed to put up with the whiny, rude, possessive, and overall unlikeable Italian was beyond him. She had good reason to be tired, and it didn't really surprise or offend Russia that his friend had fallen asleep.

It was how she sleeping that posed a problem. She had somehow ended up leaning heavily into him, her head nuzzled into the scarf around his neck. One of her arms was curled at her side, and the hand of the other clutched tightly to Russia's scarf. Russia sat as still as possible, looking down at the sleeping girl and watching her in slightly confused silence.

The large man wasn't sure how to react to the girl's light weight pressed gently against his side. He had never had to deal with this before, and the way he saw it, he had two options. He could either sit there, not moving, and let her sleep: or get up and allow her grip to tug the scarf from around his neck. There were issues with both options: at least, in his eyes.

The first option would render him nearly immobile for several hours, which could become uncomfortable. Plus, he wasn't used to being used as a giant pillow,which was making him uncomfortable enough as it was. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling: he just wasn't at all certain of what to do. If he allowed himself to sleep as well, he risked scaring her when she woke up next to him. He certainly didn't want to scare his only friend away.

Then there was his second choice. Russia sighed: he would probably go with the first option. He could not, at any cost, allow Kit to accidentally remove his scarf. It wouldn't be a big deal if he were wearing a turtle neck under it, but he had chosen a lighter shirt instead. He could, under no circumstances, allow Kit or anyone else to see his neck.

He couldn't allow them to see his scars.

The man shuddered slightly at the memory of those thin, jagged red lines that ran in criss-crossing patterns along his neck, back, and sides. They weren't just signs of wounds of the flesh: they were testimonies to his mental wounds. Each line, each imperfection of the skin, had a painful memory sewn into it. His skin felt like a fabric, a quilt of pain and abuse.

Everyone knew that the terrifying country had been abused by the tzars when they ruled over him. However, no-one knew to what extent he had been tormented and tortured, used daily as an object upon which his rulers would vent their frustrations. They lashed him every time something frustrated or angered them: he paid for the folly of their government. All he wanted was to make friends, but even that had been taken from him by the mental instability left behind by the ghosts of his past.

Until now. Now, Russia finally had a friend to share his thoughts and opinions with. He would tell her about all of the horrible things the tzars did to him one day: reveal his scars and explain every single one in detail. He knew them by heart. They made him who he was, and it was important for his friend to understand that. But not yet.

For now, he decided, he would allow her to sleep. She looked so peaceful, curled up against him and breathing softly. He didn't want to wake her up to the confusion and pain that seeing his scars would surely cause her. He preferred to simply allow her to sleep: he was feeling pretty tired himself, actually.

Russia sighed and wrapped an arm carefully around the girl's small frame. He leaned back slowly, lying back against the couch and pulling her to lay at his side. She didn't stir, instead curling closer to him and sighing contently in her sleep. He smiled happily to himself and closed his eyes, hoping that his nightmares wouldn't wake her as he twitched in his sleep.

There you have it, another one for Russia! I hope it was okay! Sorry if it was sub-par. Allons-y~!

~Silver