America had woken up slowly in his bed, still somewhat lethargic from the large meal Russia had made for them both last night. It had been another week of him not being bothered by the giant man, so that in itself was an accomplishment. Standing up silently, he stretched; the dull clunks of his bones setting travelling through the room. He then went into the bathroom to brush away his morning breath. As he looked in the mirror, he started checking over his injuries: His raw neck and wrist had scabbed over, making it somewhat painful to bend them. His hand had almost healed since he could now create a fist without cringing, and the brand was still as shiny and eerily smooth as ever.
Still going over his abundant injuries, the only thing that had bothered Alfred somewhat was the fact that his butt was pulsing slightly. The only time it felt that sore had been when Russia had raped him... Furrowing his brow as he brushed his teeth savagely, America started trying to recall last night. He remembered Russia telling him he made a large meal and invited him to eat the extras, then doing so and not bothering to moderate himself (After all, when else was Russia going to give him such good food again? And it wasn't like he was going to throw it up this time). He continued going through the memories of the meal, when they suddenly stopped after half-remembering falling onto Russia and having him carry Alfred to his bed because he had grown so tired.
'Wait.' Alfred thought hurriedly. 'Does that mean he poisoned the food? Then raped me?!' He stood shock still for a moment, only breaking out of his stupor in order to spit out the toothpaste. It made sense, since he had become extremely tired after eating -though at the time he had passed it off as just eating too much when he wasn't used to it-, and now his ass had started twinging. The only thing was that he had no idea what to do about it. Well, there was one thing, but it seemed to be on the extreme, even for him. But if that's what he had to do to save himself; then so be it.
Now the only thing was should he mention it to Russia that he knew, or keep it a secret and just refuse to eat whatever the Russian tried giving him to eat. Telling him might make him angrier and then decide to rape him right then and there, or it could make him become more devious and use smaller amounts in everything in order to lull him into a false sense of security. But on the other hand, not telling him could just make him continue doing what he was doing now, and maybe still just rape him randomly. Either way it seemed, his ass was literally on the line.
"Argh it's too difficult to figure out how his mind works!" America growled, going back out to his room after going to the bathroom. He pulled on a pair of underwear and pants, not quite realizing that it didn't hurt as much as it did the last two times to do so. Thinking it over for a second, he grabbed his jacket as well. If he was stuck here with nothing better to do, he might as well go have what little fun he could. Shrugging it on, he went out of his room, sliding the heavy metal door closed.
Once downstairs, he went to open the large door after putting boots on, only to stop. Smiling slightly, he went to the closet, grabbing a scarf that looked somewhat like Ivan's. His smile turning into a slight smirk, he then went outside, laying the scarf on the mat outside after he shut the door again.
A few minutes after being outside, America had made a large snowman that had rivalled his own height. Stepping back to admire it for a second, he then grabbed the scarf and put it on it, its eyes made of rocks and two arms from branches of a large evergreen. Grinning this time, he went back a few feet to where he had created a snow barricade and a pile of snowballs. Kneeling behind it, he threw the snowballs one by one viciously; the snowballs either sticking to the snowman or taking off chunks of it. "Take that you fucking commie." he said, watching the snowman start to deteriorate. As they said, 'if you can't beat them, join them. And if that still didn't work, beat the shit out of something that looked like them'.
"Well, at least your aim is good." Russia said, standing right behind Alfred. The creator and destroyer of the snowman whirled around in surprise. He was obviously too enthralled in his activities to have noticed the model for his snow creation. "But there is a snow storm coming. Unless you wish a very cold grave, I suggest you come inside now." He started walking away, hearing the crunching snow as America followed him. "You know, I have heard that it is a very pleasant way to die. Freezing to death that is."
"Yeah, how so? Try it yourself?" America snarled, still shaken from Russia suddenly appearing behind him. By now, he would have though he would be used to it. Now that he wasn't intent on destroying the Russia-snowman, he had noticed that his pant legs had soaked through and were freezing. He waited behind as Russia opened the door, his coat that he always seemed to wear blowing behind him slightly as the warm air rushed out.
"I heard it first hand." Ivan closed the door behind America, locking the snow outside. And, the windows were all shut. Well, most of them. "Breakfast is on the table. Here, let me take your wet clothes. I have already eaten."
Alfred's stomach sank as he rethought about his plan. Hopefully Russia would be gone for enough time for him to eat something else instead. Looking down, he watched himself undo the button on his jeans and slip them off, placing them in Ivan's cold, white hands. Without waiting for him to leave, America walked into the kitchen and saw the warm breakfast sitting on the table. It was still steaming, so it was difficult for him not to eat it, but if it was either a warm breakfast or not to get raped, it wasn't such a difficult thing to reject it. He quickly looking in the fridge and grabbed an apple, scarfing it down so that Ivan wouldn't know.
When he returned from hanging up America's wet clothes, Ivan found his pet sitting in the kitchen, his plate cleaned. "Alfred, today I plan to clean the house. As you can see, I have no maids, so I do it, but would you be so kind to help me?" There was a slight edge in his voice that hinted that if the offer was declined, there could be consequences.
Looking at his plate once more, Alfred thought about it. "...I guess." He stood up, pushing aside the chair and placing the dishes in the dishwasher. He was glad that it had taken Russia some time to take his clothes away because it had given him enough time to throw the delicious looking yet most likely drugged food away. Walking over to Russia, he looked up at his face, still slightly unnerved at the childlike, innocent smile on his face. Anyone that knew Ivan knew that it wasn't nearly as innocent as it looked.
They both started cleaning, not really talking through it all. At lunch, Russia made some food for Alfred, but wasn't hungry himself, so continued cleaning. Since it was such a big house, they continued after lunch.
"Well, thank you for your help, America. You may return to your room."
"Thanks..." Not waiting for Ivan to try and get him to stop, America all but ran up the stairs to get back to his room. Even though the house was insanely large, they had cleaned the vast majority of it, thus giving him a nice overview of the rooms. Even more so then when he had looked around by himself for a way out. Now he definitely knew that Toris wasn't lying when he said that there was no way out except if Russia let you go.
As he put his hand on the door, Alfred noticed that the metal was unusually cold. Sliding the door open, his jaw dropped. Just as Russia had said, there was indeed a snowstorm, but his window had been opened and the snow had started to pile up inside of his room. Unable to think of anything else to do, he went to go find Russia.
Looking in his room, he saw his large frame hunched over his desk doing paperwork or something once more. "There is snow in my room!" he yelled, not even bothering to get his attention first.
"Really? That is odd. Perhaps a window was open, and the storm blew it all in." He got up to check, and it was indeed full of snow. He turned around and smiled at Alfred. "I suppose you will just have to sleep with me tonight!"
"Yeah right! I'll just sleep in one of the guest rooms." Alfred said quickly, rubbing his arms. "It's not like they're ever used anyways." So that he wouldn't have to talk anymore, he went into his room, making a path through the already-deep snow in order to shut the window. With the wind pushing against it, it took a few moments for the window to finally close, leaving the rest of the snow outside where it should be.
Russia was standing at the door. "Well, unfortunately, I decided that today I would wash all the blankets and sheets on the guest beds. It seemed like a good idea, considering there was no one using them. It will take at least a day for them to dry properly. So, unless you wish to sleep without a blanket after a snow storm, with the heating turned off to save power, my bed is the only place you can sleep." He gave a deep sigh, and shook his head in mock grief.
America shook his head, refusing the possibility. "Just turn the heat on then. Better yet, I'll sleep in front of the fire place. You can go molest someone else if you're so desperate." The snow had already started to melt, turning into slush. Swiftly, America started brushing the heavy snow off his bed, trying to save it from the worst of the damage.
"Hm, yes, good idea. I'm sure hardly any snow got in the fire place, making the wood wet. You should be able to light it. Well, goodnight. I hope you don't get hypothermia." Russia walked away into his room, and went into his king size bed. He left the door open.
Avidly still trying to remove the snow, he gave up as he realized he had no way to get it off the floor. The only way it would go was to wait for it to melt. Still not bending to Russia's will, he held his head high as he walked past Russia's room to the stairs and up to the large fireplace he had slept in front of before. Looking around the room for any fire wood, he inwardly cursed the fact that Russia had been right. There was no wood in the room, and the rest of it was stacked outside, bare to the elements and thus soaking wet.
"I can't sleep with him! He'll rape me in my sleep again!" Alfred muttered to himself, pacing back and forth; forgetting the fact he was above Russia's head at the moment. Pouting like a child, he sat on the floor, his arms crossed. Thirty minutes passed and he was curled in a ball, shivering uncontrollably. Yes, sharing a bed with his 'captor' was bad, but dying because he was being immature seemed worse. Not that he thought of it that way.
Making his way back downstairs, he went over to Russia's door timidly, cursing the floor and its infernal squeaking. When he peeked his head in the open door, he saw Russia lying on his back, looking at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Alfred pretty much stomped his way to the side of the bed Russia was furthest from, threw the covers to the side, lay down and curled up into a ball; all the while keeping the farthest from Ivan as physically possible in a king sized bed. "I'm not doing this cause I wanna..." Alfred mumbled, facing away from Russia. "Just promise not to molest me and I'll try not to kick you in the nuts while I'm asleep."
Russia smiled. "I would never dream of such a thing." With that, he rolled over and went to sleep, knowing that his bed-mate would be up all night, terrified at every single sound in the room.
After Russia rolled over, America had curled up tighter. He really didn't want to be there, but it was better than freezing for no reason. Still shivering slightly, the body heat that Ivan was emitting was highly inviting, but he would have to stoop down even lower to actually take advantage of it. Instead, he stayed to the side, rubbing his arms slightly to warm up.
The night continued to pass by slowly, every little sound America heard sending a shock of adrenaline through him. There was no way he was going to get a good night sleep. Since Russia was facing away from him, he couldn't tell if he was actually sleeping or pretending to be asleep. If he was just pretending, he was probably waiting for Alfred to fall asleep then molest him; even though he said he wouldn't.
As the night slowly passed, there was one thing that started to bother America more about the situation. He couldn't remember opening his window ever, never mind enough for the snow to get in. Maybe he had opened it slightly sometime without remembering and the wind had opened it more. But somehow that just didn't seem plausible. Russia could have opened it, which would make sense considering the predicament he was in at the moment. But it wouldn't be a smart move to ask him about it, after all, giving out punishments to Alfred seemed to be his favourite pass time.
Slowly but surely, the sun had started to rise, America's night being filled with fitful sleep and strange dreams. He had become extremely drained from shivering for most of the night then not being able to sleep from the awkward circumstance. It was only a few moments till he finally fell into a somewhat decent sleep.
