Blinking his eyes wearily, America groaned from the dull pain radiating from his surgery wound. It wasn't unbearable, but it was annoying as he tried to sit up.
He rubbed his eyes, and looked to the doorway as he heard some murmuring coming from the room the surgery had been done in. With a bit of difficulty, America stood up and hobbled to the room where his children's father was leaning over Dmitri with a small bottle in hand. "What are you doing?" He asked loudly, hearing the Russian coos from Ivan.
Not taking the bottle away, Ivan looked up. "Trying to get our son to eat." So far he had gotten solution everywhere but his mouth. He was going to be a stubborn baby. But still worth it. "You shouldn't be walking."
"I wanted to see our children and you said I could when I woke up." Looking around, Alfred asked. "Where's Estonia? Didn't you want him here to help?"
"You could have called me, so I could help." Russia muttered, mostly to Dmitri. "I sent him away. His job was to help you with the pregnancy, and with the delivery. He has done that." And anyway, Estonia didn't know what to do with babies, aside from medical things.
"Oh. I guess that makes sense." Rubbing the excess sleep from his eyes, Alfred asked. "What can I do? I want to be around our children." After yesterday... wait, did he really sleep that long? "What day is it now?"
Finally, Dmitri started sucking on the rubber nipple a little. "Wednesday. Don't worry, you didn't miss too much." It was still the day of the delivery. Alfred had only slept a few hours. "If you want to do something, you could feed Anya. If you feel up to breast feeding, of course." So far, he had only been able to feed both of them formula, and since Dmitri was still on the ventilator, he would continue having it for a while.
Well at least he didn't sleep all day. But, "breast feed?" He asked, having completely forgotten about their argument about it before. He was a guy, how was he supposed to be able to do that? Sure he had pretty much gotten boobs from the hormones, but enough to have milk?
Nodding, Russia would have gone over to show him, but he had finally gotten Dmitri to eat. "Yes. You might have to play with them first, to get it started, but there should be enough." Eventually he would need enough for two babies, but they would adjust to that, as well.
"Play with them?" He asked incredulously. Finally feeling the fatigue, America sat down on the rocking chair placed by the incubators. "You want me to play with my man boobs? To get milk?"
And he had stopped eating again. Ivan put down the bottle, going to where America was sitting. "Unless you want me to?" That would probably be easiest. Once they were started, they would probably keep on milking, so they would only have to do it this once.
"You might be their father, but you aren't touching my man boobies." He tried to pull back as Russia got closer. "Seriously! They're already tender; I don't want them to feel like they're going to fall off." True it would be better for his kids, but it was still so awkward!
As if on cue, Anya started crying. Russia went to go pick her up, so she would quiet down. "It is either you or me. Or Anya could just suck on them for an hour." Which would probably be as long as it would take for her to eat.
Looking up at his distressed daughter, Alfred couldn't help but feel just as upset with her cries. "I... How long will it take if I do it?"
Shrugging, Russia dangled his finger in front of her face, smiling as her eyes followed it. "I am not sure, exactly. But your daughter is getting hungry. Do you just want me to make up a formula for her?"
Knowing full well that his own milk was better for her, Alfred sighed. "I'll try feeding her. But... How do I get the milk out? It's not like I can suck on it to get it started."
"Just playing with them should be enough. Unless you don't think that will work, then I can do it." As long as Anya got milk, it would be fine. Hopefully Dmitri would get better soon, so that he could have real milk as well, instead of just the formula.
Frowning as his son started to hiccup before crying, he just said to Ivan. "Turn around then. I don't want you being all creepy about me touching my nipples. And I don't want you to suck them either."
Laughing, Ivan turned so he could put Anya back in the incubator, picking up Dmitri carefully so he wouldn't pull on the tube. Getting the towel he had been using, Russia put it on his shoulder before lightly burping him.
Not sure quite where to begin, America started to roll his nipples between his fingers. They were a bit tender, making him frown as nothing happened. "Nothing's coming out. This is pointless." Alfred grumbled, glad none of the other nations could see him trying to get himself to lactate.
"It will take time." It would probably take less time if he sucked on them, but he didn't want to pressure America into anything. He heard Dmitri make a small sound, and figured that was all he was going to burp.
Grumbling, he changed tactics and started to pull on the nipples, trying to simulate the sucking feeling. It still made nothing come out, which made America start to get upset. "What if I don't have anything? What if I just got the boobs but not the milk? I don't want Anya to get sick..."
He put Dmitri down and the small baby tried holding on to his sleeve. "You have some, or else they wouldn't be so big. It would be easier if you had let me suck on them before the kids were born."
"That's weird though. Isn't there some other suction thingy I could use?" Plus, wouldn't it be kinda gross to have man milk in his mouth? Not that he cared too much about Ivan. "I want to see Anya or Dmitri though."
Going over to Anya's incubator, Russia picked her up, watching as she grabbed her foot. "When Dmitri is off the ventilator, you can feed him as well." He could have fed James, as well... but he tried not to think about that.
"Let me try and feed Anya then. She can get it started." And judging by the fact that it took Russia so long to get Dmitri to eat, it would probably give her practice with sucking anyways.
Nodding, Ivan brought her over and placed her in America's arms. "Do you have her? Do you remember how?" If she couldn't get any milk, they would just have to give her formula and try to make him lactate more.
Pushing his shirt up, he nodded. "I have her." America said, getting one of his mutated breasts out. Holding her near it, he held his breath as her tiny head searched around for the small dusky nub. "What will it feel like?" He asked rhetorically.
"Like me sucking on your nipple, but less suction, I would think." He watched as America tried to get her to suck. "For the last two feedings, she has had a rubber nipple, so it may take a while." He would need to change her soon, probably.
Feeling her search around for it still, Alfred looked over to Dmitri who was still in the incubator. "How long will they have to stay in incubators? And what about the ventilator?" He continued to ask questions, since they hadn't really gone over much before the impromptu birth.
Shrugging, Russia sat down beside him, holding her small hand. "We will see how they are gaining weight, and how Dmitri is breathing." Hopefully it wouldn't be too long, but he didn't want to take the chance of taking them out now.
Nodding, Alfred almost jumped as he felt Anya latch onto his nipple. "Ok... Now let's hope she knows what to do with it." Still, the feeling of having his child in his arms was a greater joy for the nation than he had ever felt.
Watching as a small drip of colostrum roll down from Alfred's chest, Russia wiped it up with his finger. "It looks like it is working now. Can you feel it at all?"
"Yeah, I can." America said simply, watching the small bundle in his arms suck fiercely on the nipple in her mouth. It didn't feel bad, but it also felt really strange. "How long will Anya eat for do you think? Will I run out?"
"You might. She will eat until she is full, most likely. If you run out, just change to the other nipple." Since it was his first time breast feeding, it was unlikely that it would have enough, since he was a man. But eventually they should create enough.
Still staring at his child, Alfred recalled everything that happened to reach this point. Even with the preparation, nothing was the same as holding his own, live baby. Live... Well, he didn't want to think about it when he felt so good. "She's done I think..." America commented, holding her back.
Looking at his watch, Ivan was surprised. "After only twenty minutes? Wow, that is unusual. Are you sure she is done, or do you just want her to be?" Still, he picked her up, carrying the small child to her incubator. He had moved the third one out a while ago.
"How am I supposed to know?" Sure he knew how to support her as she ate, but he didn't know how much she would eat. America watched as Russia placed their daughter in the incubator as he continued to rock in the chair.
Holding her head for an extra second, Ivan was amazed at how small she was once again. Her head fit easily into the palm of his hand. "How are you feeling? How is your stomach?" Ivan asked, turning around after Anya closed her eyes.
America closed his eyes. "I'm kinda hungry." He opened them to Ivan's questioning expression. "Oh, my cut's fine. It just itches a bit. Though I'll heal fast cause I'm a nation anyways." Speaking of that elephant in the room... "When are you going to let me run my country again?"
Hearing Dmitri give a light cough in his sleep, Russia went over to make sure he was alright. "Whenever you feel ready to leave them to go to a world meeting." He had been thinking about this, and decided that it would be the best place for America to come back to the world.
"... Could someone come and watch them?" Still, he wasn't sure if he would trust to be away from them for longer than an hour. Alfred just sighed. "I... I want to see England and Canada and everyone else. They'll go crazy when they see we have kids." Hopefully Arthur and Matt would be ok with becoming uncles though. "What about your sisters? Don't you want them to see our babies?" They might have only been a day old, but he was still thinking ahead.
Sighing, Ivan thought about it. "I was thinking we could use... ask Lithuania to babysit. But I don't think we should show them to many people. The secret could get out too easily." It wasn't like they could tell everyone that Alfred had been pregnant. "Also, if Belarus knew I had children with someone else, she would slash the throats of everyone in the room."
Alfred stopped rocking as he shuddered. Oh yeah, he forgot about his volatile sister. She was a crazy bitch if there ever was one. "I guess that makes sense." Though he still wanted to let his 'family' see his kids. Standing up, he declared. "I'm going to the nursery."
"Do you want me to carry you there? You still shouldn't be walking." Though it probably wasn't too bad, since he was a nation, and was healing already. But Russia would feel better not having Alfred walk very long.
"I haven't been able to walk for a month. I want to, so calm down. If I hurt myself, it's only myself that will get hurt now." Still, he felt strangely appreciative that Ivan didn't want him to struggle. "So wait," He stopped, thinking, "Does this mean Dmitri and Anya are officially Russian? And what day is it?"
Giving a small laugh, Russia shrugged. "It is not like they will be registered as newborns. After all, they will live much longer than normal humans, and their parents don't exist. And I believe today is April 17th." Their birthday, in every sense of the word.
Agreeing with what the other nation said, America just nodded before going off to the nursery. As much as it hurt, he couldn't help but think of his other son; the one he never got to hold alive. James would always be in his heart and mind, but he figured seeing his blue things would... Where where they? Looking around the room with a frown, Alfred called. "Russia!"
At the loud noise, both babies started crying. He tried soothing Dmitri, who calmed down slightly, and then he picked Anya up, trying to do the same. As soon as she stopped, he put her down and ran to where he had heard the yell. It hadn't sounded pained, it had sounded... angry?
"Where... Where are all of James' things?" America asked, looking around the room with wide eyes. There was a plethora of purple and green, but no blue. And instead of there being three of everything, there was two.
Getting to the room, Russia gave a sigh of relief that Alfred was alright. "I got rid of them." He didn't want everything around just to remind them of the things that could have been. It was much too painful for both of them.
"Why?" He asked simply, hurt finding its way into his voice. He might have been a hero to the world, but he was unable to save his second son who Russia didn't even seem to want to remember. "Do you want to forget him already? Are you already over the fact that one of our sons died this morning?"
Going closer, Ivan shook his head. "No, of course not. How could I possibly forget him, when I have been dreaming about him since we knew we were having a girl and two boys? But I thought that if you were to see his things, still here like nothing happened, it would be too painful. For both of us." He had preoccupied himself with taking care of their two other kids for the past few hours, just so he wouldn't break down from the crushing sadness.
America looked to the floor. "I don't want to forget him." Gazing around to keep himself from becoming too emotional, Alfred thought out loud. "Do you still have the doll?"
Thinking, Ivan went to the drawer he had been keeping the practice doll in. He had figured that when she was older, Anya might like playing with it. "You will not forget him. Neither of us will." He pulled out the doll, handing it over.
Seeing what he expected, Alfred quickly took the blue receiving blanket off the doll and rubbed it against his cheek; emotions rushing over him. Before he would collapse, Alfred handed the doll back and said shakily. "I want my son back. Why did he have to be taken away?"
Unable to answer without breaking down, Russia just turned his head. If only he had done something differently, that blanket could be around his smallest son this very minute. Maybe if he had given Alfred more vegetables, or more female hormones. There had to be something he had done wrong, that could have saved him!
Swallowing harshly, America tried to gather himself before murmuring. "I'm going to go have a nap. I may as well when I can, huh?" He smiled weakly before leaving Ivan to his own thoughts, still feeling the blanket in his hand.
Going back to his children, Ivan forced his mind to go to them and not their dead brother. He would need to change Anya, and Dmitri would probably be wanting attention. Since he couldn't be held as easily or as often as Anya, he seemed to think that unfair, and wanted more attention.
Sorry this wasn't up yesterday. I totally forgot. But I hope that you all still enjoyed this chapter, as sad as it was in the end. It kinda sucks that Russia and America deal with grief in such different ways huh? Anyway, see you all next week!