'What the hell?' Belarus slowly opened her eyes, only to see more darkness. She tried pushing back away from whatever wall was pressing against her face, but whatever it was was holding her firm. When she realized she was completely stuck, she inhaled a deep breath only to exhale in annoyance, getting a strong scent of alcohol.
Trying one more time, she shimmied her way up a little bit, noticing a tiny sliver of light was beginning to appear. She continued, eventually freeing her head from the darkness.
As her eyes met the sunlight, the sides of her forehead began thumping, prompting her to shut her eyes and hide back in the darkness.
"Uggggh," she grumbled while she moved her hands up to rub her head. After the pain started receding, she once again pulled out of the darkness to get a look at her surroundings.
She recognized that she was on the living room couch, but her sensitivity to light and her headache were making it extremely hard to see clearly.
As she rested her head down and looked forward, she finally noticed the ends of two collarbones and a long neck directly in front of her face. She followed it up, discovering America's sleeping face right above hers.
Looking behind her, she saw that the thing pinning her in place was America's arms, wrapped around her back and holding her close to him.
She looked back at his face, beginning to panic when she couldn't remember what happened last night. Last she remembered, she was looking at the picture of Russia before chugging a whole bottle of whiskey, and then... explosions?
Assuming the worst, her whole face began to heat up. "Nyyeet!!!" She screamed as she pushed on his chest with all her might. The couch came out from under her, dropping her to the ground. It then tipped over and threw America, sending him flying and smacking flat against the wall, before sliding down and slumping against the floor.
"Ouch," a muffled groan came from the corner of the room. America slowly rose to his knees, looking over at where the couch used to be. The glare from the sun went in his eyes as well, causing him to snap his eyes shut and clutch his head.
"Ouch!"
While covering his eyes, he walked forward and covered the light peeking through the curtains. Instantly America and Belarus' headaches waned, allowing them to remove their hands from their eyes.
America rubbed his head and looked around the room, noticing Belarus sitting on the ground and looking at him with fearful eyes.
"Uhhh, are you alright?" He asked as he walked over to and bent down to her level. In response, Belarus moved back a little bit, confusing America.
"Do you remember what happened last night?" She asked. America paused to think about it, and now that she mentions it... he couldn't remember anything.
"Nope, last I remember I was sitting on the roof, then everything went fuzzy," he laughed as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Shit," Belarus said under her breath. She then began rubbing her temples, trying her best to remember.
America raised an eyebrow and waited silently. Eventually Belarus let out a sigh and hung her head low. "It's no use, I can't remember."
America sat next to her and tapped the side of his head with his finger, hoping to jog his memory. While he was deep in thought, he glanced around the room for some clues.
An empty bottle of moonshine, a shattered whiskey bottle, the closed curtains, a birthday present from his brother, and some crumbs from what he assumed was a scone. It was starting to bring back some memories, but a large portion was still missing.
'Damn, why is it so hard to remember?!'
'Cuz ya drank a whole bottle of hooch.'
'Fuck you, that was your fault.'
'Of which brings me great pride.'
America shook away the thoughts and continued looking around the room, before glancing up and focusing on a camera in the corner.
"Cameras!" He shouted suddenly, startling Belarus and causing both of their headaches to return. "What?" Belarus asked as she covered her ears.
"I have cameras, we can go look at them and see what happened," he explained as he got to his feet. Belarus did the same and followed him out as they walked through the house and up the stairs.
America led them to the third floor and into the panic room, where he then sat at the chair in front of the monitors and tapped on a keyboard. All of the individual screens turned into one large screen as it showed the living room. America then selected a file from the day before and began playing it.
When nothing happened, America sped up the video, quickly coming to the moment when Belarus had dragged him to the couch.
The two watched through the whole sped up recording, eventually pausing long after the past America and Belarus had fallen asleep on each other.
"Did that jog your memory?" America asked. "Da," Belarus nodded. He nodded in turn and shut off the screen as he stood up. "Well that's good... Natalya."
Natalya froze stiff as she looked over at America, who was giving her a smug grin. She glared at him, but he ignored it and walked out of the room.
Angrily, she marched after him, bumping into his back when he abruptly stopped in the hallway. "Hey, watch where you're going!" She yelled too loudly, hurting her head once again.
America didn't move, so she walked around and looked at his face. He was covering the bottom half with his hand, but she could see the panic present all over it.
When she entered his peripheral, he turned his eyes to look at her. He then removed his hand to speak. "What time is it?" He asked.
"Huh? Oh, it's-" she paused as she pulled out her phone. "3:17 PM."
"What?!" He screamed before wincing and gripping his head. "How is it already that late?" He then began speeding off toward his room.
"Because we were up until about 5:00 AM. Now why are you rushing around?" She asked as she sped after him.
"Because, we have a world meeting tomorrow... all the way in Hungary," he explained. She suddenly stopped and began panicking as well. "Wait how far ahead is the time in Hungary?"
"Um... six hours I think," He answered as he began packing a suitcase. She nodded and ran away get ready as well.
That would mean it's about 9:15 PM in Hungary, but with America's hungover condition, there was no way he could fly the private jet, which meant they had to ride the normal plane and go through the slow TSA. So with about two to three hours of that, plus the roughly eight hour flight to Budapest, that would mean the two would arrive in Hungary at around 6:30 AM or so.
That isn't including the time to pack, any delays occurring, or the time to search the city for the meeting building. So in conclusion, they had to leave... now.
Natalya entered her room and grabbed her normal dress, a cute bow, and some underwear. She didn't have anything she needed to pack, and even if she did she didn't have a suitcase to put it in.
She then ran off to the nearest bathroom and entered it to take a shower. Conveniently, the nausea from being hungover just hit her, so she had no trouble making it to the toilet before she puked her guts out. After that small hiccup, she flushed the toilet and washed her face, before getting back to her shower.
She took off her dress and dropped it in the nearby clothes bin, then unclasped her bra and tossed it in as well. As she was about to take off her underwear, she noticed the mirror next to her was reflecting a small red mark on her shoulder.
Following it to her back, she found it was littered with a bunch of small lines and crescent-shaped cuts.
Every little gash and scratch brought a memory of last night, of America latching onto her, bawling his eyes out, looking to her of all people for comfort. It felt. . . nice, uncomfortably nice.
What is she doing? She's in a rush, she can't waste time daydreaming while she has a shower to take... she could do that in the shower.
Quickly she fully undressed and hopped in, cleaning as fast as she could before hopping back out and putting on her clean clothes.
As she left the bathroom, she met America in the hall as he dragged a large suitcase behind him. He was now wearing his classic tan suit under his newly-cleaned bomber jacket.
He stopped walking and looked at her. "Is this good?" He asked as he spread his arms. Natalya leaned forward and sniffed his jacket. "There's a hint of whiskey, but it's barely noticeable."
"Good enough," he said as he grabbed the suitcase again and began walking, now with Natalya behind him.
"You got everything you need?" He asked as the two descended the stairs. "Da," she responded.
"Good," he said as he opened the front door. Natalya walked off the porch and down the steps, leaving America behind to lock the door.
He walked down the porch steps too and followed Natalya to a car parked in front of the house. Tony was in it again, and once again took shotgun, forcing Natalya to take one of the back seats.
America walked behind the car and popped the trunk to put his luggage in, but momentarily had to stop when a huge wave of nausea hit him.
Natalya watched as he hunched over and braced against the rearview window. "Alfred?" She asked in worry. Alfred raised one finger from his free hand and held it in front of the window.
A few moments later, he raised himself up and closed the trunk before walking around and getting in the driver's seat. Only to place his head on the steering wheel as another wave hit him.
After a few seconds of silence, he raised his head and inhaled a breath, before exhaling, "Tony you drive."
Without a word the two switched seats, allowing Alfred to relax and try to appease his churning stomach.
Tony turned on the car and began driving, the sudden inertia tugging at Natalya and Alfred's stomachs. "Ugghh!" They both moaned out as they held their stomachs.
Eventually their bodies adjusted to the speed, but it didn't do much to help. "How are we supposed to do this?" Natalya asked as she slumped against the car door.
"I'm not sure, just... try to take a nap or something," Alfred suggested as he rolled over and curled into a call, rubbing his forehead. "And of course I forgot to take some god damn ibuprofen," he spat angrily.
The whole car ride to the airport was complete hell for both of them. Alfred was getting more aggravated by the second, and Natalya couldn't sleep because of the pain and discomfort, no matter how tired she felt.
By the time they had entered the airport, they were both fuming. One inconvenience and the entire airport would be getting leveled.
And because it's an airport, and they haven't even begun to go through TSA, it was safe to say they weren't going to have a good time.
After around two and a half boring-as-hell hours, they had finally gotten on the plane, and they couldn't be happier to get seats right next to each other rather than some annoying stranger.
When the plane took off, their stomachs began hurting again, but at least they knew it would be another eight hours until the next time it touched the ground.
Natalya leaned on Alfred's shoulder and closed her eyes. Damn sun was shining right through the window onto her face. Alfred in turn leaned his head on top of hers.
After a while, one of the flight attendants came by with a cart covered in stuff. "Would either of you two be interested in any snacks or beverages?"
Natalya winced at the sudden noise and buried herself deeper into Alfred's shoulder. He opened one eye and peered over at the flight attendant's cart, cringing at the sight of alcohol.
"Uhh, I'll just have two waters, a thing of chips, and... are those fruit snacks?"
"Yes," the flight attendant answered gleefully.
"Then one of those too," he requested. The flight attendant grabbed all of them and handed them to Alfred.
He smiled and nodded them goodbye, before unscrewing one of the water bottles and chugging about half of it. The cool liquid instantly went to his head, making his headache feel a million times better.
He pressed the other water bottle to Natalya's head, bringing a smile to her face as she grabbed it and held it herself. With his free hand he opened the bag of chips and shared them with Natalya.
Obviously it didn't last very long, prompting Alfred to open the fruit snacks as well. Those too had disappeared quickly. He never did get breakfast, and this wasn't nearly enough to satiate him. He could honestly eat everything on the food cart, but he couldn't do that in public because that would be weird.
So for now he just has to deal with what he's got and survive through the flight. Which would be so much easier if he could just fall asleep, but no, seems like the universe has targeted him to torture.
He glanced over at Natalya, who seemed to have the same problem, but was trying harder to force herself asleep.
Eventually, through a great amount of effort, both nations were finally able to sleep, only to be rudely awakened by the plane landing. What was probably a few hours basically felt like a few minutes for them.
The two groggily exited the plane and went through the whole TSA process again, finally getting out of the airport and into the city at around 7:20 AM. That gave them forty minutes to find the address they were given.
Alfred pulled out his phone and looked at the address. "Ok, so the meeting building is in the middle of the city, and we're all the way in... District XVIII. So we need to head northwest, far northwest."
"How far?" Natalya asked, considering walking if it's short enough. "Around ten miles," Alfred answered.
"Damn, so we're going to need a taxi then?" She asked. Alfred pulled out his wallet and counted his money. "Seems so, but before any of that I need to exchange this money."
So the two nations first went to the nearest bank, and while Alfred was swapping out the money Natalya called a taxi.
When the taxi arrived Alfred put his luggage in the back and got in the front. Natalya did the same and sat in the back.
"Szóval, merre tartasz?" The driver asked, bringing both nations attention to him. "kerület hét, kérem," Alfred responded.
As the taxi driver began driving, Natalya realized what just happened. "Wait, did you just speak Hungarian?"
"Uhh, yeah. Why's that a big deal? I can speak almost every language," he answered nonchalantly.
Natalya was dumbfounded. Since when? And how? It boggled her mind that this wasn't more known. She couldn't even rack her brain around how many languages he would have to memorize.
For the rest of the car ride she was hung up on that little nugget of information. Before she knew it they had reached their destination, only realizing it when Alfred had gotten out and grabbed his luggage.
The taxi driver drove off, leaving the two to wander around the district. Alfred stared down at his phone, periodically glancing up to see what street they were on.
Just as they were about to turn a corner, he felt something tugging on his sleeve. He lifted his head from his phone and looked over at Natalya, who was pointing across the street at something.
He followed her finger and looked over as well, finding Italy skipping over to a small group of nations before entering a hotel. After letting the cars pass by, Alfred and Natalya jogged over and entered the hotel as well.
The second they entered the lobby, they were met with the loud noises of a hundred different conversations all happening simultaneously. To save their poor head and ears, they moved as far away from the crowd and waited as they checked into their rooms.
As they stood against the wall, Natalya noticed one head standing high above the rest of the crowd, her brother, staring directly at her with eyes that looked like he had seen a ghost.
She looked down, unable to meet his gaze without remembering that horrid picture. But she also knew that avoiding him forever wouldn't solve anything.
They took one final glance at Alfred, who was distracted with tapping away at a game on his phone, before moving forward to confront her siblings.
As she made her way through the crowd, she was first noticed by Russia, who just stood and waited, and then Ukraine who instead pushed her way through the crowd and wrapped Natalya in a constricting bear hug.
"Oh, little sestra it's the so great to be seeing you safe!" She yelled as she swung Belarus around. The shouting in her ear and the suffocating hug proved too much for Belarus to handle. "Sestra, l-let go!"
"Oops, my bad," Ukraine apologized as she let go. Belarus moved back a little bit and rubbed her forehead, the noise all around her seriously beginning to bother her.
"Sestra, are you alright?" Ukraine asked, seeing the pain on Belarus' face. "Da, I just want to get to the meeting," she said as she rubbed her temples.
Ukraine nodded and dragged her sister back to the group of Baltics and Russia. No one spoke, feeling the tension building between Russia and his sister.
"Sestra," he greeted.
"Russia," she responded flatly.
The name made him cringe, still not used to being called that.
Seeing the scene unfolding in front of him, Lithuania decided to man up and interrupt before something happened.
"Hey Miss Belarus, it's great to see you after so long!" He greeted joyfully as he stepped in between the two.
Belarus grimaced as her eye twitched in both rage and pain. "Too loud shithead," she stated as she marched off. Lithuania kept smiling despite the insult, far too happy to see Belarus again.
Once she was away from everyone, she braced one hand against the wall and hunched over as she began gagging. All this damn noise was making her dizzy.
She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, sending her into attack mode as she whirled around and faced whoever dared to touch her. When she came face to face with America, she relaxed a little bit, but she still didn't like being touched.
"You too?" He asked with a strained smile. "Da," she frowned as she turned and leaned against the wall. America did the same and crossed his arms as he looked out at the slow-moving line of people.
"Why are we even waiting here? Neither of us are checking into rooms. I'm just gonna stay with Mattie and you... actually who are you staying with?"
Belarus didn't know herself, she usually stays with her siblings, but she had just met back up with Russia and so far it hasn't been going well.
"You can always stay in my room if you want," America offered. Belarus seriously considered it, but she also knew she had to fix her relationship with her brother. "Nyet, I'll just stay in Russia's room."
"Oh, well... ok then."
"..."
"You wanna go grab some breakfast? We still have time before the meeting, plus it will be way quieter," America offered.
"Absolutely," Belarus answered, practically running out of the building the second the offer was made. America quickly bounded after her, jogging out to the sidewalk and finding her already halfway down the street.
He caught up to her and began walking around, looking across both sides of the street for a restaurant they could enter.
A few minutes later, they both began to smell bacon, sausage, and all other types of breakfast foods, making their empty stomachs growl and mouths water.
They followed the savory aroma, coming up to a small restaurant conveniently across the street from the meeting building they would be going to soon.
Entering the building, they were met with an even stronger smell of food, and silence. Finally... pure, deafening, silence. It was enough to make even Belarus cry with joy... if only she was comfortable expressing those types of emotions.
The two sat down at a table and placed their orders, both getting breakfast sandwiches and a ton of water. Belarus wouldn't normally get the same food America indulges in, but her hangover was giving her a strange craving for something filling and greasy.
From out of the window they could see the nations beginning to enter the meeting room, giving them the cue that it was time to go. So after finishing their food, and then ordering another ten for America's lunch, they left the restaurant and met up with everyone else.
The large group all made their way up to the meeting room and got into their regular seats, which meant Belarus was right next to her siblings, while America was unfortunately next to England and France.
Hungary, being the host, started first. Most nations at this point were still paying attention, even America for once. One of the only ones not listening was Belarus, who was too busy looking at her brother.
She had already noticed he seemed a little different, but now that she was closer, she could see just how drained he seemed. His eyes were dark and tired, his hulking figure now slouched and frail, his childish smile nowhere in sight. He was like an empty husk of his former self.
That troubled her greatly, because she knew the only reason he was like this was because of her. The very thing she spent decades trying to prevent.
She knew it would be really tough to move past this situation, but if it meant Russia would be happy then it was more than worth it. And who knows, maybe if she was able to rehash their relationship then he wouldn't be so desperate as to seek happiness through China's body.
At this point Russia had noticed her staring, so he turned to face her directly. The two locked eyes and stared blankly at each other, for an extremely long time. No words were said, they just stared, observing each other's tired faces.
The moment was broken when Belarus slowly turned away to bring her attention back to the meeting. Russia, however, continued to stare at her, shivering a little bit when a shadow grew over her face.
Following her fierce glare, he looked up at the podium. England had at some point began presenting, and for some reason Belarus was staring holes into him.
England must have felt it too, because he was beginning to stutter and tug on his collar, breaking out into a cold sweat that made him subconsciously itch all over.
"D-Did it suddenly get hotter in here?" He asked as he fanned his face. None of the nations knew what he was talking about, in fact, they were all actually beginning to feel colder.
Before their aura could swallow up the entire room, Russia put a hand on his sister's shoulder to get her attention. As she turned to him and raised an eyebrow her dark aura began to dissipate.
"What?" She asked, her tone still a little more aggressive than it was before. Russia flinched back but quickly composed himself by gripping her shoulder a little firmer.
"Why are you giving England the death glare?" He whispered. Belarus threw her eyebrows up in surprise. "I was? I didn't notice."
As the two whispered back and forth, America watched from across the table, also wondering why Belarus was staring down England.
At this point England had stepped down from the podium and returned to his seat. "You feeling alright Iggy?" America asked.
"I'm just fine. And I thought I told you to stop calling me that you dolt!" England screamed right next to America's ear.
America winced at the noise but continued smiling as he threw his hands up. "K man, just making sure you're alright. You looked like you were gonna throw up."
"It's "going to" for one, and two. . . thank you for the concern," England muttered as he looked away with a small blush.
On the other side of America, France rolled his head back in annoyance. "Angleterre, unless you've done so already, stop with zhe sexual tension and take 'im already."
America slammed a fist into his chest as he began choking, and England turned to France, his face dark red with rage.
All other nations stopped speaking and turned their attention to the trio, showing varying levels of emotions from the annoyed anger by Germany and Belarus, to the perverted intrigue from Hungary, Prussia, and Japan. Was this what they were searching for?
England looked around at all the eyes on him, growing even darker red. "Piss off, all of you! You're all a bunch of bloody perverts, especially you cheesy monkey!" He pointed accusingly at France.
France just smirked and scratched at his whiskery chin. "I wasn't 'earing a non." A creepy grin spread on England's face as a vein started forming on his forehead and he started breathing heavy.
Suddenly he dived forward, reaching across America as he grabbed France by the neck and started trashing him back and forth.
America just shot his hands away from them, not wanting to get caught in the middle, Canada did the same and seemingly vanished into thin air, taking Kumajiro with him.
"Why must you constantly anger me you damn frog?!" England screamed on the top of his lungs, hurting America and Belarus' heads.
"Angleterre you're too rough!" France whined as he slowly tried to pry the hands away from his neck.
First some of the nations began either cheering on one of the sides or made bets on who would win the fight. Then one thing led to another and one of the nations started cheering a little too aggressively, causing someone on the other side to start arguing with them. And now everyone is arguing with only Germany left to make the futile attempt to calm everyone down.
On any normal day America would've probably joined the cheering, but since he's hungover today, he was not in the mood and just wanted the noise to stop. Stuck next to an irate England, he now had a noticeable ringing in his ear that made his head throb.
"Hey, come on let's just calm down," he said as he attempted to defuse the situation, putting his arms between England and France.
Both ignored him and continued trying to fight, accidentally hitting America's shoulders and face.
"Seriously dude, stop it," America said with a little more assertiveness, grabbing onto England's wrist before he could punch France again.
"Let go of me you stupid git!" He yelled loudly, making America's ears ring even more. That was seriously beginning to piss him off.
England thrashed around, trying his best to get out of America's grip. As he began throwing more insults, America's hand tightened as the pain in his head grew.
During his attempts to break out of America's hold, England accidentally elbowed him in the temple, snapping his head to the side and nearly knocking off his glasses.
His anger instantly vanished, being replaced with terror as he stared at America who had let go of his wrist and was now completely still.
Most of the nations had stopped their arguing and stood still as they waited for America's reaction.
For a split second a dark aura seeped out from him, very similar to Russia's. That brought Russia's childish smile back after a whole month of absence. It's been years since he's seen this America.
"Are you alright, chap?" England asked as he inched forward, freezing when America slowly pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose then held the side of his head.
He turned to England with a round, childish pouty face, easing the tension all the nations had felt. Russia on the other hand was disappointed, he wished he could've watched England get his eyebrows smacked off his face.
"That hurt dude," America commented as he rubbed his head. That was an understatement. On top of his hangover-induced headache, that hit against his temple felt like his brain was bouncing around inside his skull.
"I apologize, that frog made me lose my head," England said as he turned and glared at France.
"You can choke him out later, for now we should stop before someone gets hurt," America said. "I suppose you're right," England agreed as he sat back in his seat.
The rest of the nations soon followed and sat down as well, much to the delight of Germany who wouldn't have to do any screaming to calm them down.
Even though most of the nations swore everyone was present, a select few insisted they were still missing Canada, so they waited an extra five minutes for him to arrive.
After a few more people presented, they all took a recess for lunch. Many of them left the building to go to restaurants, while the few that packed lunch remained in the meeting room.
On one end was America, with his ten breakfast sandwiches, some random countries here and there, and then far on the other end were Prussia, Hungary, and Japan all silently observing him.
"Vhat's zhe point of zhis? How is vatching him eat supposed to help us figure out who he's dating?" Hungary whispered to Japan, who was holding a pen to a notepad.
"There's no guarantee it wirr, we're just rooking for possibre changes in behavior," he explained.
"Vhat changes? From vhat I'm seeing he's exactly zhe same as alvays," she pointed out.
"When coupres are together a rong time, they begin to become more arike. With how new America's rerationship appears to be, his changes wourd be extremery subtre," he elaborated.
"Ve aren't body language experts, how vill ve see anysing?" She asked.
"That's simpre, we just—" Japan was interrupted when Prussia began shaking his shoulder, stopping the conversation and getting both Japan and Hungary's attention.
"Look," he instructed as he pointed over at America. Hungary and Japan did so, causing Japan to gasp and begin scribbling on the notepad.
Hungary raised and eyebrow as she looked between America and Japan. "Vhat? Vhat did you see?"
Japan finished what he was writing and pulled her down to his level, then pointed at America to show her what he saw. "Rook, he's eating srowry."
Hungary followed Japan's finger to America, and sure enough, America was quietly munching on a sandwich. He was chewing slowly, with his mouth closed, and had only gone through about half of the sandwich since they began watching him.
She agreed that was rather... odd. America was usually eating so fast you wouldn't have time to see what it even was, or you would have to try to understand what he's saying when he begins talking and eating simultaneously.
All three nations spent the rest of the lunch break watching America eat his food, taking note of anything out of the ordinary. By the time the nations began coming back, America had only gone through about half of the sandwiches. Very strange indeed.
The rest of the meeting proceeded as normal, which sadly meant they couldn't properly observe him since they had to actually do their job. But that's fine, they still had six more days of meetings.
After the meeting had ended, and all the nations went to the hotel, America's first thing to do was buy some ibuprofen for his now splitting headache, which over the course of the day-long meeting had become so unbearably painful that he could barely speak during his presentation. But he held strong and did it anyway, because he had to.
On his way up to his and Canada's hotel room, he popped two pills, entered the room, stripped down to his boxers, and collapsed face-first onto the bed.
Belarus did almost the same thing, sneaking into her room before Russia and Ukraine arrived, then locking herself in her own separate room and hiding her head under the pillows of the bed.
Szóval, merre tartasz? - So, where are you going?
Kerület hét, kérem. - District VIII, please.