America woke to a strange and faint mewling sound. At first, his groggy mind believed there was a cat in the room. He grunted in pain when he felt nails digging into his side, then his eyes shot open to find no cat at all, but Russia clinging tightly to him. It all rushed back then. America's expression softened as he gazed at his rigid yet slightly shivering form. He wondered if Russia was cold, but when he made another distressed sound in his throat, America understood.

One hand caressed Russa's back and the other pulled and pet his hair. Russia's grasp loosened immediately and he stilled. No more sounds were emitted as his breathing returned to its normal, deep rate. America continued on for a little longer still, making sure that all the bad dreams were chased away before he stopped. He soon fell back asleep and for the rest of the night, he remained undisturbed.

America woke up at the first sounds of movement. Germany untangled himself from Italy and glanced over at him with a displeased expression before patting Prussia. Russia mumbled something and rose off him, allowing America to sit up fully. The suit slid off him and instantly Russia felt the chill on his arms. He had grown so accustomed to America's warmth that he inhaled in shock. He put the suit back over his body then pressed into America while he was still there.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to sleep?" Russia murmured. "I think it's still early."

There was a heaviness to his body and it felt as though the rings under his eyes had been cut there by knives. Russia was tired and wanted to stay with America for as long as possible, but America stretched then rubbed his eyes vigorously.

"Hmm, I don't really want to waste any time," America replied. "I want to get digging again. I saw the second floor and there might be a gap to break into."

"But America, I don't think there are windows there."

"On the second floor? Why not?

"I don't know. It is strange building."

Russia put his head on his shoulder to deter any suspicion from forming against him. Their straight arms touched as America sighed, "We have to look. If there's nothing, we will keep going up. There was a window in that meeting room so eventually we're going to find another one."

"Are you sure you don't want to dig for the front door?" Russia whispered, posing the question as gently as he could.

"You could help me, you know," America said, also making a conscious effort to be quiet and amiable.

"No…"

"Then we'll just keep doing what we're doing, just…"

"Hmm?"

"Don't make anyone work if they are too injured."

"They are okay," Russia told him. "How about Britain and France? Aren't they too injured to work?"

"They wanted to help."

"Oh but, it is the same way with me."

"Fair enough."

America stood up, not seeing how dismayed Russia was looking up at him. Russia frowned and rose too, a few joints in his legs cracking. He passed America's suit to him, who slipped it on smoothly before going to the desk and sipping some water. They could see that their talking and movement, although quiet, were waking the others up one-by-one. America intended to make breakfast preparations and when they were ready to go, Russia followed.

"So uh, what were you dreaming of last night?" America asked out of curiosity.

"Hmm, I don't remember. And you, America?"

"Oh." Then he laughed. "I was paintballing. With Canada and Britain, France… A bunch of people. I was really good so I kicked ass and won."

America did not mention him, so Russia did not feel the need to ask if he had been there. He fell into silence until America sighed, "Can we talk again? There's something I want to tell you…"

Russia perked up from his slightly nervous tone. "Of course," he murmured. "I am listening."

"I uh... wasn't being honest before when we met at the door…" America looked down now, unable to meet his eyes. "I was purposely being mean to you. It didn't feel right though, when I did it then. And because it didn't feel right, I was afraid. Afraid to like you and be nice to you, in case it made me weak."

Russia's expression went blank as he observed America carefully. He had not expected a conversation so serious this early in the morning.

"Part of me thought that there was something behind your smile, your friendship bread and stuff," America went on. "So that if I liked you, I would stop being cautious and it would undo me. I made myself take every opportunity to be mean, to push you down… but I only got more afraid because what I did felt wrong. Sometimes I was mad, but then after I felt so mixed-up and I just tried to hide it. Was I reading too much into the situation? I didn't know. I wanted to keep making you an enemy because it made me feel safe, you know? Then I wouldn't get close to you and everyone would be there to support me..."

"America…" Russia whispered.

"But when you gave me Belarus's knife and what you said to me… It reminded me that I was mistrusting you on purpose. Okay, granted- you were being suspicious but still, I shouldn't have treated you as I did. I wanted so much for you to be innocent so when I was in the kitchen with you, and we actually talked… I couldn't bring myself to be harsh anymore after that. I like being your friend. It's not like Britain said, chasing a dream… it's real."

"Yes, yes…" Russia nodded and met his anguished gaze. "I am not going to hurt you. We are friends now and I promise that I love you."

"You said that before." America let out a shaky laugh and pulled open the microwave before it beeped. "I don't know but, in English that's a strong word. You say that to me in front of the others, and they'll think weird things."

"Do you think weird things?"

"No… I know what you're trying to say. You just care about me. Everyone."

"Good… but when I kiss you?"

"Okay, that's weird. But… you said to Canada that there was a difference so, I get it too."

The microwave was started up again. Russia moved closer still, asking, "Do you? Does it make you feel better to know that I will do this to anyone here? I am not thinking of anything but the family kind of love."

"It does, but I figured that already," America replied.

"As long as you understand…"

Russia faced him. America pressed back into the counter as Russia stepped in and put his arms around him loosely. He kept silent now, while Russia gave his face those little touches of soft warmth. America opened his eyes now and then, catching sight of his gentle smile before he closed his eyes again.

"I can't tell how you feel," Russia stopped and sighed. "Are you happy? Do you hate them?"

"It's fine." America's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I mean, no one is this nice to me so it's… fine."

"But you don't kiss me back…" Russia frowned. "You must not like it."

"No, no- it's just not my thing, you know?" America panicked, not sure how in the world he should properly respond to this. "Your culture's a lot more huggier and kissier than mine so… it's strange for me to do it."

Russia was not cheered up in anyway so America knew he had not answered right. Russia drew back as America set the next plate aside and put the next in. America watched the plate turning for a few seconds, sighed, then turned back. He summoned up enough determination to catch Russia's face gently with one hand to try and improve the mood. America tried to imagine Russia as a family member as he touched his cheek with his face, giving him a forceless peck then asking him, "Like that?"

Russia gasped and nodded quickly. His eyes were as bright as last night and he was nearly bouncing in glee. America became quite amused and he could not help but admit to himself that it had not been as bad as he had thought it would be. Not when Russia was not acting strange about it, but changing its meaning into a platonic one.

Those eyes did not cease to sparkle in the light like vivid, purple gems. America had never considered his eyes before so seriously, but now proclaimed, "Your eyes are cool, dude!"

Russia blushed. "What? You think this?"

"Yeah, unique! I like them."

"A lot of people like us have the purple colour though."

"I know."

The hue of pink on Russia's cheeks made him seem all the more innocent. All the feelings of hatred, suspicion, and caution faded away as he pulled Russia back in for another hug. America smiled as he was gifted with the affection that no one else had wanted or had been willing to give him. He realized then, that there had been something within him that had needed to be filled, something he had not known had been empty. And Russia provided at every opportunity.

Eventually they served out breakfast in rounds once the counter had become too full. They took the cups from last night, and Russia started refilling them as America went back with more food. Once he was alone however, Russia grabbed the already-opened water bottle from the back of the fridge. He grabbed a black mug, filled it with the cold water, then left it in the corner. Russia threw the bottle into the recycling before hurrying to fill the other cups and some new ones with tap water, then put them out in front.

There was only one black mug, so it was easily recognizable. America came in, and they both carried off random cups to the room. Russia took over the corner so that America would not give Prussia the wrong one, but when they returned to the kitchen, America took hold of the black mug's handle.

Russia inhaled. "Oh wait!" he exclaimed.

Russia rushed to fetch the remaining bit of sugar. He poured some from the bag straight into the mug, then explained, "Prussia is always tired. I want him to have some sugar and maybe it will give him energy?"

"Alright."

"Yes, that one is Prussia's."

America nodded and carried off as many cups as he could back to the room. Russia did the same, watching to make sure America did as he was told. From the corner of his eye he watched nervously, but America did extend the black mug out and into Prussia's waiting hands. When Prussia grasped it, Russia relaxed in an instant as he felt that now his day could proceed as normal.

Yet unbeknownst to Russia, the moment Prussia had taken the mug, he had felt the chill against his palms. He tried to remain poker-faced and ignorant, although he remembered well how cold the water had been the last time Russia had given him a cup. Prussia thanked America then pretended to glance around the room as though to see what the others were doing. That was how he noticed Russia standing and inconspicuously spying on him.

He definitely drugged it… Prussia looked away from him before his eyes lingered too long. It's colder than it should be… from the fridge. One of those water bottles that he gave me before. They're all drugged.

Prussia took hold of the mug and calmly pretended to drink it. He kept his lips tightly closed and swallowed his spit. Russia saw the bob of his Adam's apple and appeared satisfied, and when he turned away, Prussia put the mug to his side and wiped the cold water from his lips.

Damn him… I have to get rid of this! He'll be collecting the dishes soon and if he sees that I didn't drink the water…

When Russia and America left the room to finally take care of themselves, Prussia jumped up with the mug and hurried to the door without providing an explanation. Germany perked up just as Prussia was peeking out and looking both ways. He was about to call out to him, but then he rushed out the door before he had the chance to. All Germany could do now was look after him, then turn to mutter to Japan, "He doesn't look injured… He just ran."

"Hmm. That is strange," Japan responded. "Maybe he has somewhere important to go..."

And he had been referring to the washroom, which was where Prussia had headed although for a different reason entirely. There, Prussia had dashed to the sink to dump the cold water down the drain. The cup was turned upside-down and a large backsplash came up and struck him in the face, burning him with a chill. He wasted no time to mind this. Prussia glimpsed his own terrified expression in the mirror just before he leapt back and grabbed the door handle.

He sprang into the hall, desperately trying to get back into the room before Russia could know of his absence. He had just about made it before a voice chirped out merrily to him and froze his heart.

"Oh Prussia, look at how fast you are moving!"

Russia's eyes went from the mug to Prussia's face. Prussia's eyes widened as Russia put on a pseudo smile and approached him with it.

"Are you feeling better already?"

America came up behind him, carrying his own meal as Russia did his. One hand was occupied by a plate, the other a cup, but Russia still came in singing to him, "Morning hug!"

His arms closed around Prussia. Russia's mouth came so close to his ear that his lips touched them as he whispered, "Pretend to tell me something, then come with me."

Prussia's heart jumped. The shot of fear caused him to pretend to mumble something back to Russia, who then looked back to America and exclaimed, "Poor Prussia is still tired! Can I give him some chocolate too?"

"Um, kay."

Russia told America, "I'll be back soon then."

America went in front of him. Russia sent an icy glare Prussia's way, fixing him to his spot for the few seconds it took for him to drop off his things in the room. When he had returned, he roughly grabbed Prussia by the arm and dragged him to the kitchen.

"You did a bad thing," Russia muttered. "You will drink the water."

"Why?" Prussia grimaced and pulled against him. "Why do you keep drugging me? I'm not going to tell them. I haven't said a word!"

"I don't trust you. You have to look hurt, but you haven't been doing that. You have to be quiet, but you aren't usually quiet, are you? I have to make you still and quiet."

He tossed Prussia into the kitchen then yanked a water bottle from the fridge.

"Drink this. Half of it."

"No! I don't want to!"

"Listen to me." Russia bared his teeth. "Drink it. Do you not remember what I told you?"

"No!" Prussia cried. "You asshole, I'll keep quiet just because I want to! You can't make me do anything. You won't hurt anybody- everyone will know it was you!"

"How?" The water bottle crunched in Russia's hand, a pained cry as he prowled closer. Prussia stumbled back over his feet, stammering.

"They, they'll just know! You're crazy, that's why!"

Cold fury sparked in Russia's gaze.

"You said something."

"N-no!" Prussia tripped backwards again. His gaze trembled as Russia's face contorted and he came closer still.

"I knew I couldn't trust you," Russia hissed. "Why do you have to ruin everything? Why did you run? Why did you have to see what you did? We could be friends. Don't you want this?"

There was no more room left. When Prussia's back hit the counter, he slid sideways to achieve the maximum distance he could. Russia quickly adjusted himself so that there was no escape, creeping in and driving him into the corner.

Prussia's eyes darted. He set his mug down and exclaimed, "I'll let you be friends with him! Alright? Just leave me alone!"

Russia furrowed his eyebrows and placed a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be quieter.

"It won't hurt, Prussia." He shook the bottle at him. "Just drink it and sleep until I come back. I'll cuddle you, pet your hair… You like that, don't you? I saw Germany doing that.

He reached out a hand to provide a sample. Prussia slapped it away before his hair could be touched and he cried, "No! Stop doing whatever the hell you want with me! I'm not yours!"

Russia's pupils narrowed. Prussia threw out conclusively, "And you can't threaten me anymore! It won't work!"

"Be quiet." Russia lowered his head. "You're too loud."

Prussia stepped forward and snapped, "I'll be as loud as I want if you don't back off!"

Russia slammed his hands on the counters, barring Prussia into the corner. "I warned you how I would punish you," he muttered. "If you don't do as I say, someone will get it."

"Oh yeah?"

Russia bristled. He needed Prussia to be submissive- it was crucial that he bend to his whims. This attitude needed to be broken; the plan demanded it.

"Then what if your little bird disappeared?" he uttered. "It would be hard to prove that was me."

Russia did not intend to harm his pet, but he snapped the words out in hopes that it would drive him into fear. Russia jolted when Prussia's eyes burst into flame and he shoved him hard in the chest. He fell back a step and regained his balance just to notice that a knife had manifested in Prussia's grasp. There was no time to gasp and Prussia screeched, "Don't you fucking dare!"

Prussia pushed off the counter and Russia took a few cautious steps back. Now Russia gasped, "When did you get that? H-how? I was always with you!"

Teeth exposed and eyes ferocious, Prussia snarled, "Get back! Don't you ever touch me again!"

Russia dropped the bottle and lunged. Prussia yelped in surprise and could not react in time to the unexpected attack. His throat and wrist were snatched then he was slammed into the fridge. A bang and a cry, then Russia silenced all. Prussia's feet lifted off the ground as Russia squeezed his throat, tighter and tighter still until frantic whistling escaped him.

"You made big mistake, Prussia," Russia breathed. The free hand clawed at him until Russia pressed against him and dug his shoulder into his bicep. Prussia squeaked and writhed vainly, increasingly weaker in each passing second. "All you had to do was listen! I would not have harmed you. We would have been happy."

Pleading eyes met his merciless ones. Prussia's mouth worked, until he could barely choke out, "R-Russia…! T-too… tight… ple… stop!"

He raised him higher and shook him, failing to hear his words. Nothing could be said to him. In his rage, Russia spoke and could no longer see the agony and terror of his victim.

"Why couldn't you just let me love you?" he hissed. "I could have been so good to you. You are just choosing to hate me! Trying to ruin my life!"

Prussia shook his head desperately.

"N-n-no…" he whimpered. "I'm s-s-s…"

Russia closed his throat and Prussia instantly fell into a mode of utter panic. His vision darkened until he could not even see Russia there in front of him. Tears poured down and splattered Russia's arm, but this rain seemed not to be felt by him. His mouth flapped as his body frantically searched for air to sound his sobs, but still, Russia did not see it. Prussia tilted his head back and fought just to shriek, his mind screaming for help to come.

He twitched his knee, driving it as hard as he could into Russia's crotch. Russia jolted but did not loosen his hold, only turning his body to pin him with his hip.

"Do you think I enjoy this? That I like hurting you?" Russia cried, forgetting to be quiet as now tears budded his eyes. "Why did you make me do this?"

Prussia grew heavier suddenly. Russia stopped shaking him and blinked rapidly. He blinked until his vision cleared, and he could see the limp body dangling in his hold. Through closed eyes, Prussia's last released tears cascaded and struck his arm. Now that he felt them, Russia inhaled sharply. He dropped Prussia and he fell with a smack against the tiles.

Russia dove down to collect him and rub his ribs, whispering desperately, "Prussia…? I st-stopped… You can be breathing now…"

He touched his throat with tender fingers and a weak pulse was felt there. Russia sniffed and kept rubbing his ribs until they started to rise and fall gently. A sigh fell from Russia's lips as he pried the knife from Prussia's grasp and stood.

Russia was on the verge of returning it to the knife rack, but then a charging weight smashed into him and he yelped. He tripped over Prussia and crashed into the counter. Instantly warish shrieks sounded out behind him and a kick slammed into his spine. Russia coughed and felt now punches and claws befalling his back. One of his arms was snatched and twisted behind his back, but that was when he gained the sense to react.

Russia whirled around with the intention of clocking his assailant in the face. She bent back in time and Russia's eyes widened as he beheld Hungary's twisted and feral expression of wrath. He had only a glimpse of it however, before her mouth formed an O and a spray of hot, burning blood struck his eyes. Russia gasped as more hit his cheek before he blocked his face. Confusion fired flaming adrenaline through him, but when he heard the knife clatter on the floor, he realized what had happened.

The knife. Oh, he had forgotten he had been holding it.

Russia yelled in horror. Hungary stumbled side-to-side as blood splurted from her throat, through the fingers vainly trying to hold it all in. He threw his hands over hers, trying to stop the bleeding as he screeched, "Nyet, nyet, nyet!"

A tide of red washed over his hands and ran down his wrists. He threw out a sob to the ceiling then pressed in harder. Too hard, for she began vibrating and choking until Russia yipped then let go of her. The blood splattered the counter, fridge, and cabinets, then she tripped and fell. Pounding footsteps rapidly drew near as a growing puddle grew around Hungary and Russia danced around the bodies in panic.

America flashed into the doorway. His jaw dropped as he beheld Russia standing over both Prussia and Hungary, waving his bloodied hands at him and crying, "No, America! No, no-"

"You bastard!" America screeched.

He sprinted for him with a fist reeling back. Russia's words kept tumbling out. His hands clasped together as he yelled, "I didn't mean to, I-"

Russia hollered when a hook knocked him off his feet. He flew into the counter, whacking his head off the marble before dropping to his knees. America booted his gut and his foot followed him to the ground, stomping again and again. Russia screamed until the sole of the shoe was red, then he managed to grab his ankle and throw him away.

America shrieked with rage as he fell onto his back and slid into the counter dividing the kitchen from the cafeteria. He jumped up just as Russia was making a dash out, rugby-tackling him and taking him back to the ground. A smack as he hit the hard floor, then Russia writhed, spun, and smashed a kick into America's face.

Skin tore and a web of blood broke out over America's cheek. He struck like a spider and landed on him, wrestling with limbs until he could punch any piece of exposed body. Arms, chest, and face- then Russia grabbed an arm and flipped him. He rolled with him until he was on top, punching for the target of his nose. America turned his head left to right to avoid the blows but he was struck in the temple and his vision blackened.

Absolute fury allowed him to find Russia's throat and pull at his trachea. Russia gasped as America brought up his knee and nailed him in the crotch, then when Russia curved upwards, the gut multiple times. Russia released and fell back into the counter, where America snarled and lunged with crooked fingers.

They rolled over the floor in a ball of thrashing claws. Russia snatched America's shoulders and they stumbled to their feet as nails reached for the eyes America had praised only minutes ago. One came close and ripped a neat cut under his eyelid. Russia kicked his shin then pushed back. He tore into the cafeteria, jumping onto tables and racing over their tops. America sailed after him in hot pursuit and when Russia stumbled, he snatched a chair and hurled it at him.

It bashed his head and he collapsed to the floor. America grabbed another and leapt, bringing it behind his head and screaming, "How could you?"

Arms flew up but did nothing to block the chair. America turned the plastic away and pounded him with the metal legs.

"I trusted you!"

Russia grabbed a table and struck him with it. America yelped and fell over, giving enough time for Russia to wail, "It was an accident! I didn't have knife, I-"

"Liar! Fucking liar!"

America hurled a table at him. Russia dropped and took cover behind the one in his hand. He gasped for breath as America rushed back and the chase continued. Russia clasped a vending machine and threw it back, only for it to tip and fall before striking America. He raced up and booted it, sending it screeching across the floor after Russia. His legs were caught sideways and he shrieked when they were crushed against the wall. He squirmed to free himself until America came and Russia frantically had to defend himself from his punches.

"You are nothing but a violent psychopath! I'll never open myself to you again! Fucking commie- I'm going to kill you!"

Russia jumped up and kicked America in the temple. He shoved him off the vending machine then dove onto him, elbowing then strangling him. America buckled then bridged, knocking him off balance until his arms could come up and punch him a few times in the throat.

"I didn't!" Russia coughed as he stumbled backwards. He tripped back over a fallen chair and America snatched another table and threw it at him. He yelled out when it struck him, but then Russia rolled, grabbed two, and returned fire. America dove and somersaulted, dodging them while simultaneously grabbing two chairs. Russia skidded to the side as they sailed toward him, missed, then clanged against the wall.

From the corner of the room, Britain was heard screaming, "Don't go in there!"

America chucked another table at Russia and took the time to glance over. Canada was racing toward him, but America hollered, "Go to the kitchen! Hungary and Prussia are hurt!"

Canada veered away as Russia charged for the exit. America sprang onto a table then delivered a flying kick to his head. Russia spun and America dropped onto him, hooking his arm around his throat and falling back. America scrambled to get his arm locked and Russia pinned down. He wrestled to immobilize him, panting in exertion as Russia did, and bleeding over his developing bruises.

"Stay down," America growled. "By god if you know what's good for you, stay down!"

Russia kneed him in the tailbone and when he lurched, struggled to throw him off. America nearly fell over, but then America punched him twice more in the neck before retaking his position. This time, he grapevined his legs to prevent another strike from them.

"It was an accident," Russia spluttered. "Prussia had the knife then Hungary attacked and-"

America shoved down and Russia heard a crack in his shoulder.

"I thought you were happy!" America cried. "That we could be happy! You tricked me! How could you do that to me? You liar, liar, liar! I didn't know you were so good at acting!"

Tears fled from Russia's eyes as he spotted the ones America was fighting to contain.

"No, no, America… I really do love you. I wasn't trying to hurt anybody-"

"Don't say that!" America screamed. "I hate you! You jackass, I'll always hate you!"

He snatched Russia head and slammed it against the hard floor. Crack. Again. Crack. Blood. Again. Russia reached out for something, anything- but found nothing to defend himself. He screamed in agony and fear, wriggling but helpless as America solidified his guard and kept him in place.

Only a moment later however, America hollered and dropped him. He flew away from China's brutal kick to his temple, the one Russia had already hit, then collapsed in a stunned lump. Russia's eyes rolled as China shook him and called his name.

More people flooded into the cafeteria. Austria and France scampered to the kitchen and Britain charged toward America, Russia, and China. China cradled the matted, bloody mess of Russia's head and fixed Britain with a savage gaze.

"Stay back!" he cried. "Leave him!"

Britain halted. He looked to America as he groaned and brought himself to his knees. He snuck around and helped lift America's exhausted and battered form to his feet. Soon enough however, America felt his energy rushing back into him and he took on a stance. He looked down to Russia, who was stirring in the arms of China.

America wavered as Russia started to get up. China faced him with his fists up and America knew that he could not take on both of them even with Britain.

"What happened?" China demanded.

"Look in the kitchen." America turned his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. "Russia stabbed them with a knife."

"He wasn't there," Russia coughed. "But Prussia attacked me with the knife. I took him down and disarmed him, but then Hungary starting attacking me. When I tried to defend myself, I accidentally cut her throat."

"Liar!" America screamed. "It's as Germany said! You hurt her because you were mad at Prussia! Prussia is hiding your secret and because he revealed something, you attacked Hungary!"

"I didn't!" Russia cried. "It was an accident! I didn't want to hurt anybody!"

Cuba charged in and slid to Russia's side.

"I know he wouldn't have purposefully hurt them!" he boomed. "He wouldn't have done this when he is trying to become your friend!"

"He doesn't want to become my friend!" America snarled. He stamped a foot on the ground and dared to come closer. China and Cuba readied themselves at Russia's sides. "He doesn't understand the concept! He doesn't know how to love! He owns, destroys, and deceives! He always has and always will be like this! I was an idiot to give him a chance!"

The Baltics appeared by the door at a safe distance away, watching as Belarus charged in to Russia's defense. She zipped through the labyrinth of fallen tables and chairs until she could clasp onto his side and hold him protectively. A murderous stare was fixated on America after she had checked Russia's face and found tears there mixed with the blood.

"Big brother is crying!" she hissed. "He does not cry often. You have hurt him!"

"Good," America spat.

"Emotionally!" she snapped. "He is not acting! How dare you say he is!"

Once seeing the odd numbers, Japan rushed to America's side. Italy appeared with a limping Germany half-draped over his back, who had been insistent enough that both made their way through the wreckage to also join America.

"America, please," Russia sniffed. "It was an accident… believe me… Do you really think I was pretending? Did I look like I was? I-I just wanted to be your friend… Everything I did was so that we would stop fighting and have peace…"

"Bullshit," America huffed. "Britain was right. I was stupid to believe such a dream. You just wanted to mess with me then take me down when I was weak. So that you could have all the power."

Russia rubbed his eyes with one hand, trying to ebb the waves of tears.

"I'm sorry… I'm not bad. I just… I didn't know what to do! We needed to be together, in a situation like this where we could talk and cuddle and-"

"What are you talking about?" America uttered.

The trio around Russia jolted. Russia lifted his head and cried, "I'm glad this happened! I got to be with you! We had so much fun!"

"No we didn't," America muttered. "But I bet you had fun cutting up those two. You sicko. Don't say those damn things to me, about love and fun and shit- not when you got blood on your hands. You're a sadist. I can't believe I let you get so close to me."

"America…" Russia stepped forward. "America… Believe me, ple-"

He had come too close. America nailed him in the face, his knuckles plowing into one of his vivid, beautiful eyes. Before a brawl broke out however, Russia whirled around and tore away from them all. America gasped and the crowd scrambled after him, stumbling around the tables and chairs. Russia broke free from hindrance and pelted past terrified Baltics, threw Poland and Ukraine to the side, then jumped into the hall.

Just before America emerged from the cafeteria, a thick blanket of black dropped upon the entirety of the hall. Russia's footsteps were heard disappearing down the corridor as America growled and hastened to find the light switch. His hands patted all over the surface until the slippery, blood-smeared switch was found and America restored light to the place. By then though, Russia had vanished and America was left seething in ire.

"Find him!" he barked to the group assembling around him. "There's nowhere he can hide! Bring him to me!

Amidst the humming of machines, Russia collapsed to his knees and sobbed. Quivering hands caught his face, sticking blood onto blood: his, America's, and Hungary's together. His body throbbed and jolted, casting him whichever way it pleased, completely careless in aggravating his injuries. Deep agony clutched his body, only forcing his heart to tear more as he remembered whose hands had damaged him in this way.

How he remembered those hands, caressing his back, his arms, and his face. They had found him to give him hugs, invited him to cuddle, and had held him for that friendly kiss. Russia had been able to forget then, how capable those hands were, when he had been distracted by their warmth. Now though, their power and vengeance were all he knew and all he could feel.

Utter coldness.

Russia gasped loudly in the frigid shelter, falling to the rock floor and bawling under the sounds of the machines. There was no more warmth left for him now. He had failed and all that was left for him, he felt, was the cold of winter that he had been raised by.

"Winter," Russia whimpered. "I am coming back…"

No one could hear him. The machines hummed on to swallow all sounds, and it was sure that no one was going to find him here. It was therefore so, that Russia was entirely alone as he cried not for the serious wounds he had obtained, but for everything that had been lost…

And everything that could have been.

Aaaand now comes the disturbing parts that are usually guaranteed in any Emperor Kumquat fic.