When he got back, Lithuania already had a cup of warm water and a tea bag ready. He brewed tea, adding the essence of the remaio weed, and helped Latvia drink it. Russia and Lithuania were relieved when he dozed off after a full two glasses.
"Thank you, Alfred." Lithuania kissed his cheeks. "You saved my baby brother."
America nodded. "Just what I do." His expression was dull, and his voice carried no emotion as he spoke.
Lithuania didn't notice. "Okay." He sighed. "I missed you, baby. Not to mention, I was sleeping in my wheelchair the entire time you were gone. I'm glad you're back. I can go upstairs, lay down in my bed, cuddle you again."
America kissed Lithuania's cheek, not feeling that he meant anything by it.
»_«
Lithuania clung to him that night, but he just put his arms behind his head and laid it on his hands.
"Alfred? Is something wrong?"
America glanced over at him. "No."
"It's just..."
America wrapped his right arm around him, putting his left arm to his side. "Here."
Lithuania chuckled, but his smile soon faded. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Peachy," he said through his teeth.
"Alfred-"
"Torys... Shut up." Lithuania froze. "Shut the fuck up."
Lithuania whimpered. America kept ranting, standing up and stomping over to the other side. "Shut the fuck up, get out of my house, and take the rest of your family with you. I hate your brothers, I hate your kids, and I really, really hate you." He put a hand over his mouth. "Torys, I-"
"I know," he said, uncomfortably climbing into his wheelchair. "I understand just fine." He wheeled down the hall to the guest room where Russia was staying. America teared up, running downstairs and out the door. He ran out through the yard, across the road, and through the fields that were straight across from it. He was in his pyjamas, wearing his contact lenses I stead of his glasses, wearing socks and not shoes, but he didn't care. Not while Russia could be coming after him.
Why the hell did he say that? He loved Lithuania, and those kids were his, just the same. He hated Russia with all his heart, but that didn't mean anything about Latvia. He loved Latvia as much as he would his brothers and sister; he didn't understand himself. Why would he say such... abominations?
He laid back, hiding himself in the tall grasses. He pulled some over and tucked them under his body, using them as a blanket. He was going to try to survive that night, if only just for a little bit. It was the one night. He could sneak out an outfit and his wallet and leave town in the morning. All he needed to do was sleep in the fields for them and the morning light would tell him that the coast was clear.
That night, he dreamed of a black cat with big brown eyes.