By the end of the meetings Alfred wanted to scream his head off. Not only did he have to act happy, do his best to avoid Natalya, but then on top of that Russia had to act creepy and borderline stalk him everyday.
Of course they would. He could blink wrong and Russia would get suspicious. Luckily as the days went on it became easier to hide his tiredness and distress, but it was still a pain with the Russian breathing down his neck.
When he returned to Canada's house he triple checked for any bugs, trackers, or hacks Russia may have placed on him. He could never be too sure.
After all that annoyance and stress Alfred's mood had gone from sour to acidic. While he still kept up his front wonderfully it became obvious that there was something different about him.
Canada had begun to pick up on it. Usually his brother has this constant air of happiness around them, which would only thin but still remain when they were upset.
But now it was completely gone. It hadn't been replaced with sadness or anger, it was like the air had run out and now there was a vacuum of emptiness around them.
That wasn't all. A few days after returning home the twins had run into a little problem, and how Alfred had dealt with it was... troubling.
The two had been sitting at the table eating dinner. It was still early in the evening with the sun just beginning to set, but that was to be expected with the increasingly shortening days.
As they ate together and talked they were interrupted at the sounds of faint, strange shrieks coming from outside. Staring down at their food Canada focused hard on the noises coming from the woods, but across from him Alfred seemed to have barely reacted.
Thinking they just hadn't noticed, Canada spoke up to get them aware. "Wendigo sure have been wild this year, eh? I've had to deal with more of them now then in the last few years combined."
Alfred gave a knowing nod as he continued to eat. "You think that's weird? I had to deal with a whole dozen of so of them at my house a couple months ago."
Understandably Canada's face became twisted with perplexion as his eyebrows furrowed, which Alfred pointed at with the back of his fork. "My face exactly. What are that many of them doing hanging out in my woods, in the summer, in Virginia? Makes no sense."
Canada agreed and looked out of a window toward the nearby woods. "We should probably deal with them now. It wouldn't be good if they found their way to Ottawa."
"Yeah probably," Alfred replied as he poked at his food with his fork. Quickly finishing his dinner Canada prepared for their hunt, meanwhile Alfred stayed at the table and played with his food, not feeling up to eat anymore.
Throwing the rest away he stood up and waited for Canada outside, listening to the noises to see if he could count how many they were dealing with.
"What's it looking like?" Canada wondered as he stepped outside, clad in some protective clothing and carrying a couple weapons.
"Two dozen maybe? It's like a whole horde of zombies or something," Alfred stated while extending a hand, which Canada placed a weapon in.
In disappointment he gave his brother a cherubic pout. "The axe again?! Why do you always get the bow?"
"Because I'm the better shot, eh," Canada pointed out with a smirk. Alfred scoffed and fidgeted with the axe in his hands. "Just give me a damn gun then we'll see who's the better shot," he muttered under his breath.
Next Canada handed him some protective gear to wear, but he refused, much to Canada's dismay.
"Why do you always refuse to wear it?" He asked, Alfred flashing them a cocky grin and standing tall. "Because I'm the hero, duh! I don't need some lame armor when I'm the strongest."
Knowing this was an impossible reoccurring argument Canada decided to leave it alone. He only hoped Alfred wouldn't get too hurt.
Walking into the forest Alfred looked over at Canada, chuckling at how serious their face was.
"What's so funny?" They asked, their face still stern and intense. Alfred laughed a little more and smiled. "It's nothing really. It's just kinda funny how the nations totally wouldn't believe you do this sort of thing or act like this."
At that Canada grew flushed with embarrassment, his voice growing softer than normal. "W-Well, it's a lot easier to be confident when you aren't dealing with people. Besides, I've acted serious plenty of times. The nations just... forgot."
Alfred sighed inwardly, feeling guilty for still overshadowing his brother. Though it's frustrating now because he keeps trying to call attention to them but the nations ignore it entirely.
"Well they're just a bunch of senile old farts anyway," he said, making Canada chuckle a bit. "I guess you're probably right, eh."
"Of course I'm right! Look who you're talking to," Alfred replied cockily.
Following the noise deeper into the woods they found that the shrieks and calls had split off in two directions, meaning they would have to also split up unless they wanted to risk one of the groups getting away.
"I guess this is where we part ways for now," Alfred said as he crossed his arms. Canada tightened his quiver strap and held his bow before nodding Alfred goodbye.
As they walked in opposite directions Canada turned and called out to Alfred. "Be safe! If I have to save your butt because you had no armor I'm totally saying I told you so!"
Alfred laughed heartily and spun on his foot, his whole being seeping with confidence. "The only lives you have to worry about is the wendigo's. Also yeah, you be safe too."
With that final send off they turned back toward their respective wendigo groups, but the moment Alfred's face was out of Canada's view a cold haze fell over it.
Canada wandered in the direction of his group, eventually spotting a few large figures slipping in and out of the now moonlit forest.
Crawling stealthily over to a vantage point he scouted out the pack, counting how many there were to kill and keeping track of their locations.
Now properly informed on what he was dealing with he loaded his first arrow, took aim, and fired straight through the temple of one of the beasts.
For a moment the others were disoriented by the commotion, allowing Canada to take out two more and clip a third, which had unluckily dodged without even realizing they were being shot at.
With that many shots being taken the wendigo had figured out where Canada was, all of them speeding as fast as they could to the hill.
The first one to reach the top swiped at Canada, who jumped back and pulled out a knife, swiping back at the wendigo and cutting deep into its palm.
Letting out a scream it retreated, allowing another to take its place. The next one slashed Canada's leg, but only managed to catch the armor. With a kick Canada sent that one flying back down the hill, two more taking its place and going after him.
Shooting one of them down Canada swapped to the knife again and fought against the other.
For a long while the process repeated: shoot one, either push it away or kill it with the knife, get some distance from them, and start again.
While dealing with the last couple he was suddenly thrown off balance as a large quake shook the ground beneath his feet, which allowed one wendigo to get close and get a clean cut on his cheek.
Tsking in annoyance he rolled backwards and readied another arrow, shooting it into the shoulder of one.
As he tried to get a killing blow the land started rocking again, making him trip and fall on his butt.
The other one tackled him and tried to bite his neck, but he was quick to hold their head back and stab up with the knife until it was dead.
Dispatching of the last one he took a moment to relax, only for a third and even more powerful shake to rattle him.
'Is there an earthquake? What is happening?!' He wondered. He thought on it more as he collected his arrows, then suddenly had a horrible thought.
'What if Al is dealing with one of those really big ones? Is that what's causing the tremors? What if Al is hurt?!'
In worry Canada ran off toward where Alfred had gone, becoming panicked as no more shaking came.
Going as fast as his feet could carry him he almost fell forward as he abruptly stopped, spotting a figure walking toward him in the distance.
Nearing them he looked all up and down their form. It was Alfred, but he was completely lathered in the gross blackish red blood of the creatures.
The most unnerving part was the terrifying look on their face. Usually Alfred relished in the glory of a successful hunt, calling himself a hero for protecting humanity from these monsters, but there was none of that here.
There was so much determination, and rage, and focus. He almost had a sort of 1000 yard stare going on.
"Al are you alright, did you get hurt?" Canada wondered, but Alfred completely ignored them and continued his march back to the house.
After watching Alfred leave, Canada turned toward where his brother had come from, his eyes widening at the scene ahead of him. He could feel the bile rise in his throat and his stomach drop.
Despite having been through multiple wars, hunted and killed hundreds of wendigo, and lived long enough to see the worst of what humanity was capable of, stuff like this still made him sick to his stomach.
It was a complete massacre. Dead wendigo were sprawled all over the place, limbs, guts, and gore littering the ground. Bodies mutilated, torn in half, impaled on trees, punched into bloody mush that painted the grass and rocks and filled up craters. There wasn't even a point in burning the bodies anymore, there was barely anything left to set on fire.
Surveying the hellish war zone Canada noticed something by his feet. The axe he had handed Alfred earlier, spotless of any of the copious amounts of blood around him.
No armor and no weapon, his brother is insane. What the hell is wrong with him?!
He had thought about that for days after, concerned with his brother's well-being. He knows they are hiding something really bad, but trying to figure out what it is will only make Alfred's attitude worse.
How is he supposed to help someone that will do everything they can to prevent him from knowing what's the matter?
He considered asking one of Alfred's friends, but that wouldn't really work seeing as how Alfred hasn't hung out with them in a while. Besides, some of them are prone to spreading drama, and if there's one thing Alfred never wants the nations to know it's him being anything besides strong.
Then there was Kumajiro, who was being strangely very hush-hush on the topic. No doubt Alfred had done something to keep the bear quiet, meaning Canada was all alone in this.
He may understand his brother the best out of anyone, but Alfred is still a stubborn person. Even with all his efforts he may not be get the full picture. Ironically this is one of the few times he wished he could be invisible.
Alfred wasn't oblivious to this either. This isn't like some boring world meeting, he's been attentive and can tell his brother is on to him.
The moment he realized this he wanted to punch himself for not being secretive enough. But knowing acting super happy again would be suspicious, he decided to roll with it. His willingness to eat and workout will be proof enough there's nothing serious going on. Or so he hoped.
The weeks following would prove to only get worse for the American. Almost every other day Canada would check up on him to make sure nothing was wrong. He would of course lie and act cool, as long as it made them stop bothering him.
His mood somehow kept getting worse. He didn't think it could be possible, but for some reason each day away from Natalya was more painful than the last.
Probably because a part of him missed her, and despite feeling betrayed he was afraid she had moved on and forgot about him.
It was a stupid thing to think. Not only would there be no moving on if she really had been his friend simply to get to Russia, but in reality she was faring just as bad as him, even with Ukraine's support.
And now Alfred was beginning to have a scary thought. Maybe the claim that Natalya had been telling the truth wasn't a claim at all.
Alfred was almost certain that couldn't be true, but over the course of the next few weeks and the following G8 meeting he grew increasingly more doubtful of himself.
Like during the world meetings, Russia had taken a special interest in him in the G8 meeting as well, but something that perplexed him was how Russia seemed to have a genuine interest in discovering what had happened to him.
Don't get him wrong, it's still beyond creepy and irritating, but it wasn't like their usual smugness when bugging him. Like how it was when he knew of the atom bomb or throughout the Cold War.
They haven't given any indication that they know of Alfred's personal journal, and if they do then they haven't used it to provoke him into an argument yet.
That in itself is peculiar. Either Natalya never told Russia, or Russia is holding onto that information for some greater reason.
Alfred had no idea what was true anymore. His heart pleaded for it to be the first, but his brain and the part of him that knows Russia believed the latter.
Thinking all of this over Alfred sat at his desk with his head in his hands. At this point he had returned home due to having an election to prepare for, this one estimated to be one of, if not the largest one ever.
So not only was he dealing with his whole emotional mess, but now he's going to be overworked the whole rest of the month on top of it.
Canada decided to tag along for "support," but Alfred knows they're only here to keep watch and see if he'll slip on what's been bothering him.
Why can't the world just leave him alone?
With his head so cluttered he stood up from the desk and left the study, knowing he wouldn't be able to get any work done like this.
He needs to distract himself with something. He doesn't care how boring it is, as long as it's anything.
Thinking about a place he could go he walked to his closet for a swap of clothes. Opening the door he dug around for something to wear, picking up a plastic bag and casting aside.
In that bag was the tattered remains of his bomber jacket, which carried every single piece no matter how small. The only thing he couldn't find was the star patch, which was upsetting as that was one of the most important parts.
Collecting a shirt and some pants for the late October weather he was about to move back and close the closet, but at the last moment he spotted something in the spot where he had picked up the clothes.
It was the lingerie he accidentally gave to Natalya. He keeps forgetting to get rid of it. With a hollow laugh he dropped his clothes and picked up the garments.
If things worked out with Natalya then he could've possibly seen her in this. That made him feel warm inside, but at the same time it filled him with immense guilt. His heart isn't in it anymore but his stupid dick can't seem to understand that.
Tossing it back in the closet he left to get ready, then went off to find Canada to let them know he was leaving.
Canada offered to go with, but Alfred knew better and made up an excuse about needing more snacks so he could work for longer.
He might actually do that, but that's definitely not what he's going to spend his day doing, he thinks. He's still not quite sure what his plans are today.
Taking one of his cars he drove into town, pulling up near a park and brainstorming ideas of what to do next.
After a great while he got out and began strolling toward a certain house. He had a specific pair he'd like to talk to.
Stepping onto the porch of the familiar blue house, Alfred raised his hand and knocked on the door. From inside he could hear as shouts and stomping came toward him.
"Forty years! Forty years I work at that company and yet, for some reason, a raise is too much to ask for!" The muffled voice yelled while jangling with the doorknob obviously out of frustration.
Then the door was swung open harshly, showing Mr. Johnson on the other side with a red face and a big vein going all the way up his head. But the moment he noticed Alfred his face softened and returned to its normal color.
"Am I interrupting something?" Alfred asked awkwardly, but Mr. Johnson shook his head rapidly and opened up the door more. "No everything's fine, work is just being a pain. Would you like to come in?"
"Fred who's at the door?!" Mrs. Johnson called out from somewhere in the house. "It's Alfred!" Mr. Johnson answered as he turned and began walking back into the house, allowing Alfred to get inside and follow the elder to where Mrs. Johnson was.
Walking into the living room he found the old lady sitting on a sofa waving at him with a massive grin. "Hey there hon, how have you been?"
"I've been good, work blows chunks though so I'm taking a break right now," Alfred responded, getting him a hard slap on the back and a laugh from Mr. Johnson. "You and me both son."
Alfred laughed along with the man, but across the room Mrs. Johnson frowned as she stared back at the young man's face. "No kidding, you look exhausted. Fred could you fix him a cup of coffee?"
"Uh, that's really not needed," Alfred refused bashfully, but the old lady ignored his protests and focused on her husband. "Get him something strong."
Without a word Mr. Johnson left to go to the kitchen, leaving Alfred alone in the living room with Mrs. Johnson.
"Well? Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come sit down?" She asked while gesturing to the couch.
Slowly he walked over and sat down next to her, nervous of the strange look she was giving him. He already had an idea of what they were going to ask.
"So where's that lovely girl of yours?" She asked him, causing a weird sensation between his burning face and his cold and shattered heart. He totally called it.
With a sigh he rubbed the side of his head. He came here to relax not talk about his failing love life. "She's not "my girl," I keep telling you that. And she made up with her family so she went home."
She frowned angrily at the boy. "Hon I watched you share a milkshake with her. I highly doubt there's someone else that could be considered your girl."
At the thought of that memory Alfred felt embarrassed, but it almost instantly died down into a numbing sadness. "That's not... I forgot my money and was forced to share."
"Well you seemed pretty happy to have to share," she said under her breath, which Alfred heard but ignored.
Before she could ask anything more Mr. Johnson came back in with a cup of coffee, which provided a few good minutes for him to drink in peace and silence.
It didn't last forever though, as now that Mr. Johnson was back he seemed to have the same questions as his wife. "So where's that girl? I thought you were gonna bring her over."
Lowering the mug from his lips Alfred secretly balled one of his hands into a fist as he answered. "Home with her family. And before you even ask I already told Mrs. Johnson the same thing, we aren't dating."
Scratching his beard Mr. Johnson gave a confused glance between Alfred and Mrs. Johnson. "Wait but what about the milkshake, and the beach?"
"The... beach?" Alfred murmured, his mind racing with questions. "Wait you guys were at the beach? You were watching us?! Wait what happened at the beach?"
The Johnsons looked at Alfred with even more confusion. "Wait they never told you?" Mrs. Johnson wondered.
"Told me what?! What are you talking about?" Alfred asked, confusion in his voice. The two elders remained silent for a bit, only making him nervous.
Eventually Mrs. Johnson pushed herself to her feet and signaled Mr. Johnson to follow her. "I'm sorry Alfred could you give us a moment to ourselves?"
"Um I guess," Alfred agreed as he rubbed his wrist nervously. This is the opposite of relaxing.
Leaving the room the Johnsons peeked through the doorway at the slowly panicking nation. "So I'm confused. Does Alfred really not know that girl has feelings for him?" Mr. Johnson asked.
Mrs. Johnson shrugged, just as clueless as him. "I don't know. It's easy to see he likes Natalya, and she felt the same way. I just assumed one of them would've said something to the other by now."
"Maybe you should tell him what happened," he suggested, but Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "That would be rude to Natalya, if anyone gets to tell him then it's her."
"But what's it matter if they both like each other?" He argued. "If we tell him now he can talk to her about it. At the end of the day one of them is gonna confess, it doesn't really matter who."
"I don't know. What if he's being serious and isn't into her?" She pondered, only for him to chuckle at her doubt. "Please, have you seen the way he looks when any of us talk about her?"
With a smirk she looked up at her husband. "That's true. I don't know maybe you're right. Besides, if he truly doesn't like her then it might be better for him to know now rather than for her to shoot her shot and get rejected."
"Alright then, let's go," he stated as he started walking back in the room, but she grabbed onto his arm and pulled him back. "How about you stay out here for now. I talked to the girl, I'll be able to explain everything to Alfred better."
Leaving the man in the kitchen she reentered the living room, giving the worried nation a polite smile and sitting down on the couch again.
"So could you tell me what happened now?" Alfred requested. "Who was supposed to tell me what?"
Rubbing her head Mrs. Jackson laughed a little. "Jeez, where to begin?" Thinking through what she was going to say she left him in silence for half a minute more, then finally faced him as she started to explain.
"Alright, so Fred and I were taking one of our usual strolls around the park, and since it was such a nice day we figured we'd stop by the beach and maybe relax for a bit, but just before we were out of the park he suddenly had to go to the bathroom. As I waited for him that's when I came across a young lady sitting on a bench and crying, who I would later learn was the girl you've been hanging out with."
For a split second she saw what looked like distress in his face, but then it turned skeptical as he raised an eyebrow. "You sure? The girl I know rarely cries, and especially not in public like that."
"That's why I'm assuming they were on the bench, it was in the shade and away from the people at the beach. And more importantly, how many girls in this town do you know are named Natalya?" She asked rhetorically.
Alfred's jaw fell open slightly, staring blankly and in total disbelief. He tried to speak but couldn't find the words, his face etched with anxiety. Leaning close he lowered his head and stared straight into her eyes. "She was crying?" He asked, the softest Mrs. Johnson had ever heard him.
She shook her head a bit and frowned. "Oh dear no she wasn't just crying, from the way I saw it she was having a full-blown panic attack."
"What?!" He shouted, feeling extra loud compared to how he was a few seconds ago. "Was she alright, did something happen to her?!"
Mrs. Johnson held her hands in surrender at the overwhelming bombardment of questions, until she could finally get him under control. "I was getting to that, just please listen."
Alfred backed off and returned to his original position, considerably more jumpy than before. This wasn't helping his case that she was a bad person he should dislike and not care about.
Seeing he was relatively calm she continued. "At first she refused my help and wanted me to go away, but eventually I was able to get her to stop crying and explain what was wrong. In all honesty something about her was really unnerving, it sounds rude but I feel like if she weren't in such a vulnerable state I probably would've avoided her. Anyway enough of that, next she had told me she was dealing with a very complicated relationship and couldn't figure out what she was feeling or why. I knew instantly it was love, but she refused to believe it and even started panicking again. We ended up working through it and that is when I found out that the one she had those feelings for... was you."
Hearing that last part made his lungs feel tight while a horrible feeling appeared in his stomach.
"Hon are you feeling alright?" Mrs. Johnson asked, seeing his expression that looked like he was about to be sick.
"U-Uh yeah, I'm... I'm good," he replied, gripping his knees firmly.
"Do you not like them back? I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable," she said, wondering if she should get Mr. Johnson to make some other type of drink like tea or something else soothing.
"I. . . I'll deal with it later. Could we maybe just not talk about it for now?" He requested. Mrs. Johnson agreed and looked away from Alfred. "Ok Fred, you can come back now it's safe!"
Alfred looked to one of the doors as Mr. Johnson stepped through it, scratching his big belly awkwardly as he walked over to them. Alfred gave them a weird look then turned back to Mrs. Johnson. "He knew?"
Mr. Johnson let out a jolly laugh and slapped his belly hard. "We're old son, doesn't mean we don't like some gossip."
The nation sat bewildered for a moment, then started snickering quietly. "You two are the oldest children I've ever met."
"Acting your age is for losers that forgot how to have fun," Mrs. Johnson stated, making Alfred laugh a little harder. "Aw you guys are awesome! You have no idea how many times I've had that exact same argument."
For the rest of the day Alfred was at the Johnsons, finally able to get his mind away from the troubles of the world. It was really nice, and that made it all the more harder to leave to go back home.
Because once he returned to his study his mind could only focus on what Mrs. Johnson had told him earlier.
Natalya had cried, over him? There was just no way. She was conflicted with her feelings for him, and afraid of them? And no doubt she was struggling to figure out what that meant for her relationship with Russia.
It had to have been a lie or something, but then again... she was crying, got comfort from a human, and told the human her name! She told them her name, the same thing Ukraine said she never told to humans.
It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense!
Cupping his nose and mouth between his hands, Alfred rested on the desk, his mind on fire while the pit in his stomach grew worse.
But if it was true then that would mean Natalya really did love him. She may be sneaky in getting what she wants but he highly doubts faking her feelings for him to strangers on the street is something she'd do.
She may still be at fault for looking at his personal journal, but that real love has to mean something, doesn't it? If she wasn't lying about that, then what else about what she said was the truth? All of it?
He was now feeling more guilty than ever. He now seriously began to doubt in his judgement that she was using him, which means he rejected her and claimed a bunch of horrible false accusations for essentially no good reason.
Removing the hands from his face he picked up a pen and looked down at the work he's yet to finished. Though it took a significant amount of effort he was able to get back to work, though as he filled out each paper his mind remained to be elsewhere.
It was time again for another world meeting. 'Man it feels like we're having a million of those,' Alfred thought as he looked over at his alarm clock, which read 7:30 A.M.
Groaning softly he forced himself out of his seat and collected his notes and a massive stack of papers, turning off the tv which was running news about the election.
Three days after voting day and they're still counting. It's stressing Alfred out beyond belief. The whole country is on edge, watching, waiting, and waiting, and waiting. But the days just keep passing and the remaining votes keep going up.
No matter who won one side was bound to be devastated, which only made Alfred even more stressed.
The only relief he can see is that Pennsylvania might call it today. That was a very optimistic might, for all he knows they could pull a Nevada and take a billion years to count the votes.
After putting on the clothes he prepared he hoisted up the stack of papers and left for the meeting.
Barging into the room he ran to his seat and fell forward, just in time to drop the big stack on the table before he lost his grip.
The nations already present turned and watched with puzzled looks as Alfred collected the stray papers and tried to organize the pile the best he could.
"America what is all this?" England asked as he walked through the doors of the break room, a large cup of tea in hand.
"Oh uhh, sorry Iggy. I didn't realize how many awesome people would come out to vote this year so they keep giving me more paperwork."
England looked at him with a little pitying look. His own people are feeling tense over this election, and he's sure much of the rest of the world feels the same.
"Whatever, just try to not be too distracting," England requested. Alfred laughed proudly and gave his signature two finger salute. "You can count on me dude!"
England grumbled and took a sip of his tea. "You're already failing."
As the two talked about elections and paperwork, from behind them the Slavic family entered the room. Hearing what the conversation was about Russia skipped over and placed his hands on Alfred's shoulders, butting himself into it as well.
Natalya stood quietly behind, her face as unreadable as the last meeting. Feeling the cold shift in the air Ukraine took her by the arm and led the two of them to their seats. From the side Alfred kept a solid gaze on the girls, only returning them to England when the sisters sat down.
Soon after, the meeting began. Italy began the opening speech while Romano stuck close to assist whenever it got too sidetracked, such as talking about food or a certain potato bastard.
At that moment Alfred had stopped paying attention, busying himself with the mountain of election papers he had to get through. Natalya watched him closely as he worked, noticing the cup of coffee he kept near and drank through very fast.
She also noticed how his eyes seemed to droop and twitch, and how he would keep lifting his glasses up to rub them.
She tried to watch for longer, but feeling a tap on her arm she knew Ukraine was signaling her to look away before Russia noticed. Averting her eyes she tried to focus on the meeting, noticing they were switching presenters.
Now it was Germany's turn, which meant they were going to drone on forever. Seeing as he pulled out a large stack of notes that was a fair assumption, so she knew she was in for a good hour or two of the worst boredom a person could experience.
In only a matter of minutes she had zoned out of the presentation, her mind focusing instead on Germany's weird hair.
Years it's been slicked back like that. It's so weird, no other nation did that. Well maybe China, but that's only the very top while the sides are down. Is it to look older? It would make sense given who Germany is. She bets Alfred would have some choice words for the German for trying to act older than they are.
Glancing over at Alfred she found him slumped forward in his chair, his head propped up on his arm while he wrote, much slower than before. His coffee wasn't doing a thing.
It reminded her of back in Yellowstone when she challenged him to rest on her lap. Only now it wasn't cute but painful to watch. He was fighting so hard to stay conscious, trying to get his work done as fast as possible. Just how long has he been working on this election?
At long last Alfred's writing came to a stop and his eyes closed for the last time. Exhaling one long, tired breath, his body started to relax, their head dipping back then staggering forward again until finally flumping down onto the papers with a heavy thud.
It grabbed the attention of a few nearby nations, who only rolled their eyes then returned their attention to the meeting.
England attempted to wake them up, but at the last second Canada was able to get his attention and stop him.
Therefore the meeting progressed without Alfred for a good while, but roughly an hour into Germany's lecture loud snoring interrupted him. With a twitching eye Germany sent a glare around the room, stopping at Alfred's side of the table.
"Could somevone please vake America up?!" He commanded. Canada rose to his feet and faced Germany. "A-Actually, I think maybe we should let him- "Wake up you git, you're distracting everyone!" England yelled as he gave Alfred a few rough pokes to the back of his head.
"E-E-England stop! You said you'd let him sleep!" Canada shouted at the betrayal, but his voice only seemed to grow quieter as he got more nervous. Damn his shyness.
"Did someone say something?" England questioned, making Canada shrink back into his seat. "O-Oh, he already forgot."
"It's petit Mathieu. You were just talking to 'im!" France butted in, angered that they had forgotten for the millionth time. "Sometimes I sink you are zhe older one with zhat moldy scone you call a brain!"
"Pardon me?! Well, at least I don't have disgusting egg breath!" England cried out, slamming a fist onto the table near Alfred's head, making them twitch in their sleep.
"It is brioche and it is delicious! Not zhat you would know anysing about good bread," France fired back, standing up and leaning across Canada to get closer.
England did the same and stood over Alfred. Wanting to avoid the argument Canada slunk out of his chair, which unfortunately allowed France to get even closer, so now both bickering nations were right over Alfred.
The ever-increasing volume in both his ears startled Alfred awake, his head shooting up and head-butting the sides of France and England's faces. "The hero's up! Don't... don't fearrrr, the pillow isn't due till uh, till Obama's President," he slurred out, still half asleep.
The nations stared in silent confusion at the sleepy American, except Prussia and Denmark, who cackled loudly at their drowsy friend.
Only after receiving a slap on the back of the head from an angry Brit did Alfred wake up fully. Unaffected by the hit he turned around and looked at the fuming England. "Oh hey Iggy, what's... *yawn* ...what's up dude?"
"Don't "what's up dude?" me, you almost broke my jaw with that empty bowling ball of a head!" England shouted while he rubbed his cheek. "You fell asleep and were snoring loudly, distracting everyone, the one thing I told you not to do."
"Oh. . . Jeez I didn't even know I fell asleep," Alfred laughed while putting his hands behind his head.
"Right. In any case you're awake now so if you're done with your work then actually try to pay attention," England instructed as he sat back down in his chair.
Behind him France was curled in a ball on the floor, crying over a broken tooth he held in his cupped hands.
Looking down Alfred gave them a concerned raise of his eyebrow. "Um, you alright there bro?"
"My beautiful face!" France wailed, gripping his hands around the tooth and pressing his face to the ground. "It's been defiled."
"Oh get up you crybaby, it'll grow back," England said as he got back up to drag France to their seat.
With the disturbances coming to an end Germany spoke from where he left off. Alfred tried to watch but found himself caught between the election work and succumbing to his increasing fatigue.
Taking a glance up at the nations he scanned over everyone's faces, pausing as he noticed Natalya facing him.
Rather than avert his eyes like he has done, this time he kept looking at her. Natalya was initially shocked at his staring, and even began to grow a little nervous as he peered emotionlessly into her soul, but stared back nonetheless.
The two remained locked on each other for a few minutes, but soon Alfred's eyes drooped again and he was forced to rest his head on a hand. Some minutes after that and he was nodding his head and struggling to keep his eyes open. The final thing he could register prior to passing out was Natalya's saddened, concerned expression.
It didn't take long for the other nations to notice, and so they had to go through the process of waking him up again. But even after receiving another cup of coffee, the moment they all turned away he was out cold.
After a few more meaningless attempts the nations were fed up and decided to leave him. They were wasting too much time as it is, it would probably be in their best interest to keep one of the more disruptive ones asleep.
By the time lunchtime came around they didn't even bother letting him know, leaving him snoring away and alone.
While the nations slowly began to pour out of the room England stayed for a second as he stood above Alfred.
"Lad's going to work himself to death like this," he thought out loud, a hint of softness in his voice.
"Honhonhonhon. Angleterre, are you actually showing compassion?" France asked in mocking surprise, having snuck up behind the Englishman.
England blushed at being caught, whirling his head around and snarling at France. "N-No, of course not! The git brought this on himself anyway. What does he think he's doing staying up all night?"
France smirked at the grumbling man. "It is adorable zhat you try to 'ide it. Zhere is no reason to be ashamed zhat you care."
"Oh just piss off," England spat while walking out of the room, trying to hide his bashfulness from the Frenchman. France followed close behind, teasing England all the way out the building.
'Assholes,' Natalya thought while watching the two leave, but didn't watch for too long due to Russia beginning to talk to her.
"I had been hearing Italy talk about a new restaurant near here, would you be wanting to check it out for our lunch?" He asked.
Passing a millisecond glimpse at Alfred she nodded at her brother. "Da, but I have some business I must attend to. I will meet you and sestra outside."
Assuming it was another bathroom trip Russia didn't question it, him and Ukraine exiting the room as well.
The lingering nations filed out thereafter, allowing Natalya to be alone with Alfred. Waiting a minute for everyone to get further away and to check multiple times for an invisible Canada, Natalya got out of her chair and glided over to the sleeping superpower.
He's so overworked, can no one see? Why did almost every nation give him those hateful looks for passing out involuntarily?
Without anyone around she was free to show the furious wrath she felt for the nations, only calming down when she worried all her threats and curses would wake Alfred up.
Bending down to his level and as delicately as possible she lifted him up and put him on her back. She needs to get him out of this room, if she puts him in the break room then someone will be bound to find and wake him up.
Exiting the room she carried him through the hallway, creeping around slowly to make sure nobody sees her.
Reaching the elevator she inspected the buttons, guessing that the top floor would most likely have a place he could rest.
As the doors closed and the elevators moved the shift in gravity made Alfred stir, sending Natalya into a panic of what he would do when he came to.
"Wuz goin' on? I need to... need to do my wurrrrk," he mumbled, his head flopping on top of hers.
Remaining stiff and silent she waited the entire way up the floors, sighing in relief as she felt him relax again.
When the doors opened she walked out and began checking all the rooms, at last finding an empty bedroom. From the looks of it it appeared to be a spare bedroom for Italy, not that he'll be needing it right now.
Setting Alfred down gently she pulled the blanket to his neck and tucked it into the sides of the bed. With his hands the last thing sticking out she crouched down to them and held one up by the fingers, taking it to her mouth and placing one long, sad, tender kiss on his knuckles.
Moving them under the blanket she finished tucking him in and stood back up. Sitting on the side of the bed she slowly reached up and pet his hair, her mind flooding with all the painful memories of when she slept in his embrace. How could she have let that all slip through her fingers?
With tears filling the corners of her eyes she leaned forward and placed one more kiss onto his temple, then took her leave to go meet up with her siblings.
Under the blanket one hand gripped the other, rubbing over the knuckles that had been gifted her affection.
Bloodshot eyes opened slightly and saw as the door closed, then focused on the ground while their frown widened. After taking a few seconds to reflect Alfred drifted back into sleep.
"Where is America?!" England demanded to know, gripping the empty chair Alfred previously sat in.
With another FACE lunch without the A, England had expected Alfred to still be asleep, but when he returned and found nothing he went ballistic.
Knowing things would only escalate if she stayed quiet Natalya decided to answer, with her traditional aggressive flair. "I didn't want to deal with that obnoxious snoring anymore so I threw him into a break room."
Peeking into the nearby break room Russia looked at her puzzled. "I am not seeing him there."
"Another break room, you know we'll be able to hear him through the walls," she reasoned, which humored Russia enough to take her word for it.
"Well go get him, the meeting's starting," China ordered, which Natalya had no intention of following for more than one reason.
Romano scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "And have him pass out and snore up the place? I say leave the burger bastard alone, even if he stays awake he's just going to talk about his election the whole time."
With silent words of agreement the nations went on to their next presenter, which ironically was Alfred so instead Canada took their place, but mainly because he got mistaken for them.
Finally when the meeting had come to an end Natalya snuck her way to the bedroom, going beside Alfred and wordlessly shaking him awake.
Opening his eyes he stared up at Natalya, who stared back in silence. Seeing he was fully awake she turned to head out of the door.
"Natalya?" He called out weakly. Hearing him say her name again made her jump, but she kept her composure and only turned her head slightly to show she was listening.
"Have you told anyone about my journal?" He asked, hopeful, desperate. "Nyet," she stated calmly and truthfully, despite her practically trembling with nervousness.
Assuming the conversation was over she faced forward and went to the door, but before she could leave his voice called out once more. "Natalya?"
Turning around fully she looked right at his face, which was concentrated in thought, carefully considering what they were about to say.
With a determined countenance he raised himself off the bed a little and nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."
Natalya remained stoic, but the leap in her chest almost made her whole body fly forward. Taking a second to cool down she gave a final nod and left the room.
Once at a considerable distance her emotions finally took hold, sending her mind reeling with confusion and wonder.
Why did he trust her? Is that what his mother meant by showing she could be trusted? But that doesn't make sense, she didn't show him anything.
With a blush on her whole face she sped her way to the elevator. She isn't sure what changed, but could it really mean all wasn't lost?