America hummed as he walked down the halls of the office building looking through the folders in his hand. He was currently looking for the meeting room, as the world meeting was about to start in five minutes. Looking at the office numbers, he realized that he must have been on the wrong floor. Just then, he saw Russia down the hall some ways, looking lost.
"Oh, hey Russia. Are you looking for the meeting room as well?" America asked as he caught up with the taller man.
"Da, it seems that this floor is missing a room." Russia said with a frown as he looked down at the paper in his hand, which had the room number on it.
"Nah, it's probably just a floor above us." America shrugged. "Did you see the stairwell on this floor?"
"Da, I did, however it was closed off." Russia huffed. "Apparently one of the employs in this building had a mental break down and spray painted crude words all over the stairs. There are people cleaning off the stairs at the moment. We'll have to take the elevator."
"That's really weird." America said with a raised eyebrow as they walked towards the elevators. "Why'd the guy go off the rails like that?"
"Lady." Russia corrected as he pressed the elevator call button. "Apparently, she had had a very bad week in her personal life, and then the company fired her. She then proceeded to go off in a temper out of the office, and about an hour later someone found her spray painting the stairwell."
"How did you even learn about this?" America questioned.
"I simply asked the men who were cleaning the stairs what happened." Russia said with a shrug.
"People can be really weird sometimes." America chuckled as the elevator dinged and opened.
"Da, I know." Russia agreed as they walked into the elevator.
For a moment, an awkward silence fell between the two countries. Neither one of them was very good at small talk, and because of their tense history, it was just more awkward for them. Neither of them really knew what to say to each other unless they were trying to one up the other or bickering. So, as they stood in silence, they both tried not to make the moment more awkward. So of course, that's when things had to go wrong.
"Hey, do you hear a scraping noise?" America asked suddenly, head shooting up to look at the ceiling.
"Da, I do." Russia replied with a frown, glancing above him.
"Maybe its noth-" America started to say, but just then the elevator gave a violent jerk, and threw them off their feet and onto the floor. The lights then flickered, and dimmed to the point where the light was pretty weak.
"Oh crap, that can't be good." America cursed as he picked himself off the ground.
"I don't think we're moving." Russia said, realizing that the rumble of the elevator had stopped.
"Oh shit, this is bad." America said. "The elevator is jammed."
"I hate when this happens." Russia muttered. "I hate these types of older buildings. Everything always breaks down."
"Yeah, I know, right?" America chuckled nervously. "Why don't you press the panic button or use the call phone so we can alert someone about the problem?"
"America, there is no call phone. This is an old elevator." Russia sighed. "Luckily, there is a panic button." As he said this, he pressed the button, which promptly popped off and fell on the floor. For a moment, they stared at the button in silence. Then with a huff, America said, "Well, that was useful."
"Well, how about we use our cell phones?" America said as he pulled out his phone. As he turned in on, he was horrified to see that his phone had no signal.
"No signal." America said miserably.
"Same here." Russia said looking at his phone. "Elevators aren't really known for their great cell phone reception you know."
"Yeah, I know Russia." America huffed. Why don't I open the doors and see if we reached the next floor?"
"Be my guest." Russia said, standing back out of America's way so that the other nation could accesses the door. America grabbed the doors, and with a grunt pried them open. To his dismay, all that met them was a grey wall.
"Well, how about the ceiling door? America asked irritably as he closed the doors. Walking over to the panel, he tried to push it open, but couldn't really reach it. "Damn it. Hey Russia, give me a hand, would you?" America asked. Stepping over, Russia tried to open it, but found it stuck. "It seems that it can't be opened." Russia stated with a shake of his head. America groaned in frustration. "God, the movies make escaping an elevator look easy."
"Hollywood magic usually doesn't take real life into account." Russia smirked.
"Well, movies wouldn't be any fun if they did." America said with a sigh as he slid down onto the floor of the elevator. "I guess we have no choice but to wait for a rescue."
"It appears so." Russia agreed.
The two fell back into silence again. For a few minutes, they sat in thought. Then America pulled out his cell phone, opened an app, and started playing angry birds.
"Angry birds? Really?" Russia asked in amusement as he watched America.
"Well, I could reread our notes for the meeting, or I can play angry birds and beat my high score. And I'm not going to do work while I'm stuck in an elevator." America replied without looking up from his game.
"Your child like behavior never ceases to amaze me." Russia said with a shake of his head. "But you make a fair point." And with that, Russia pulled out his cell phone and started to play sudoku.
"Dude, sudoku is an old person game." America snorted.
"Well, that's because you need a brain to play it, which is something you lack." Russia shot back.
"Touché." America laughed.
For a while, they stayed like that, until America's battery life died. "Well, that was a fun distraction." America sighed as he pocketed his phone. Russia glanced over at America, who was looking rather uncomfortable. "How long have we been in here?"
"About one and a half hours." Russia said glancing at the time on his phone. "I should probably save the battery life on my phone, so we can tell what time it is." Russia said as he too put away his phone.
"Well, I guess we're back to square one." America said as he started to fidget.
"Why so worried?" Russia asked. "At this point, the others will have realized that we aren't at the meeting, and the building should realize one of their elevators is off line, so we should be getting out of here soon."
"Yeah I know." America shrugged. "I just don't like waiting."
"I'm sure their going as fast as they can." Russia said.
"I'm sure." America muttered.
"Do you want to discuss the meeting notes?" Russia offered. "It'll give us something to do."
"Dude, no." America snorted. "I hate politics and business on the best of days. The last thing I want to do is talk about politics while I'm stuck in a tin can that's trapped between two floors."
"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Russia asked.
"Seen any good movies lately?" America asked with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I saw Jumanji." Russia said. "I liked it, but I think I preferred the original."
"The one with robin Williams in it?" America asked with a laugh. "I loved that movie. But I have say, those CGI monkeys look pretty bad these days."
"Hmm, yes." Russia said with a nod. "CGI tends to be a hard thing to make look good over a long period of time."
"Yeah, if you rely on only CGI." America snorted. "I find that mixing CGI and practical effects together works better and movies. I mean, look at Jurassic Park. A lot of those effects are still good to this day."
"Is it true that they built a full robotic T. Rex for that movie?" Russia asked.
"Yeah dude, its true. The guy working on the movie was like, 'I want a fully working T. Rex model for my movie.', and if I remember correctly when he asked the people who make robots for movies to do that they called him nuts." America said with a laugh.
"Well, it looks amazing. So, I guess he wasn't nuts." Russia said.
"They did a lot of practical effects for that movie." America said fidgeting with his shirt. "A lot of the dinosaurs that you see in the movie were puppets, or guys in suits and stuff like that. It's pretty cool."
"I'm not sure about the Jurassic park sequels." Russia said with a frown. "I mean, I did like the forth one, the one with Chris Pratt. Although the scene where the lady outran a T. Rex in high heels was ridicules." Russia snorted.
"I laughed when I first saw that." America said. "I couldn't believe they put that in the movie. But the ending was amazing."
"That it was." Russia said.
"Hey, is it getting warm in here to you?" America asked as he fanned himself with his folder.
"Da, but I'm not surprised. Our body heat is probably warming up the small space." Russia said with a shrug. Stretching, Russia waited for America to reply, but he didn't. Noticing this, Russia studied the man below him. He looked paler than usual, and seemed to be sitting rather stiffly. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be breathing heavily.
"America, are you alright?" Russia asked worriedly as he crouched down to get a better look at the man.
"Hmm, oh yeah, I'm fine." America said with a shudder.
Russia continued to study America. He'd been acting nervous ever sense the elevator had stopped, and while that usually wouldn't be out of place in this scenario, it wasn't really like their lives where in immediate danger, and the elevator wasn't falling. And America didn't get freaked out in elevators to his knowledge. Suddenly, it hit Russia.
"America, are you claustrophobic?" Russia asked in concern.
"No. Well, not usually." America said rather quickly. "It used to be worse when I was younger, but it's gotten better over the years. But I hate this. I hate getting stuck in elevators."
For a moment, Russia was at a loss. Here was one of the most bold and excitable people he'd ever known, who even when freaked out was loud and bouncy, silently freaking out in front of him. That and he was not one for comforting people. Hell, most of the people he knew freaked out because he was in the same room as him. He didn't know how to comfort people.
"Do you want me to knock you out so you stop freaking out?" Russia offered.
"No Russia, I do not." America snapped.
"Um, I don't really know what to do to help." Russia admitted, looking apologetically at the man in front of him.
America didn't reply, but put his head on his knees and continued to breath heavily. Russia stared at him in pity. Russia was no stranger to claustrophobia, having overcome it when he had been younger. But he truly didn't know what to do to help him. Then, he remembered something his sisters did to help him when he was feeling stressed when he was a child.
"Do you want to hear a story?" Russia asked. "It used to help me when I was scared when I was younger."
"Uh, yeah, that sounds good." America said lifting his head to look at Russia. "What did you have in mind?"
"Have you ever heard the tale of Baba Yaga?" Russia asked, sitting down and leaning back on the elevator wall, legs getting cramped from crouching. America shook his head.
"The story starts like this." Russia started. "Once, somewhere in Russia, a man, his wife, and their twin children lived together happily. But one day, the wife died, and the man mourned for many years for her. But after those many years, he longed to be married once more, and remarried. His new wife, who was a wicked woman, despised the twins, and often scolded them for no reason."
"Why is the step mother always evil?" America muttered. "I've known quite a few people who remarried who were nice people."
Russia shrugged his shoulders and continued with the story. "One day, the mother planned to get rid of the children entirely. She told the children to go live with her grandmother in the woods, who lived in a cottage that had chicken feet, and to do everything she said, and if they did so, they would be happy. Of course, the stepmother was lying, as the woman she claimed was her grandmother was Baba Yaga, a witch who lived in the woods. The children, being clever, did as they were told, but before they went into the woods, they ran to their father's grandmother and told her what their mother had told them to do."
"Why didn't they just stay with her?" America asked.
"Hush, don't nitpick a fairytale." Russia said. "After they were done, the grandmother sighed in regret. 'My poor children, it is not in my power to help you, but I shall give you a piece of advice. Be kind to everyone, no matter what, and hope that you too there will be the needed help." With that, she gave them fresh milk, slices of ham, and cookies. Then the children set off into the woods."
"Should have given them a weapon." America snorted in amusement. Mimicking an old lady's voice, he said, "It's dangers to go alone, take this sword with you."
"I have to say, that might have made a bit more sense." Russia laughed. "But then it wouldn't be much of a story, would it?"
"I guess not." America nodded. "Keep going."
"When the children found the hut, they were surprised, as just as their step mother had said, the cottage did have chicken feet, but it also had the head of a rooster. Afraid, they called out to the cottage, '"Izboushka, Izboushka! turn thy back to the forest and thy front to us!' The hut did so, and when they looked into the cottage, they saw the witch, an old and frail looking old woman. 'Who goes there?' the witch asked the children, looking over at them. Afraid, the children replied politely, 'Our stepmother sent us here to serve you.' The witch nodded and said, 'I am not opposed to keeping you children. Do as I say, and you will be rewarded, do not and I shall eat you up.'"
"Wow, this is the politest witch I think I've ever heard in a story about. She didn't even try to eat them outright. She was just like, 'Yeah, you can chill here, but if you don't do what I say I'll eat you.' How polite." America joked. "She didn't even try to trick them."
"She was most likely too well known to try to trick them." Russia said with a chuckle. "Anyway, on with the story. The witch sent the girl to spin thread, and sent the boy to carry water in a sieve to fill a big tub. Crying bitterly, the young girl went to work. Then, a few mice appeared and said, 'Do not cry girl, feed us cookies and we will help you.', and the girl willingly did so."
"If you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk." America joked.
"What?" Russia asked bewildered.
"Dude, you've never heard of 'When You Give a Mouse a Cookie'? America asked. "Written by Laura Numberoff?"
"I don't think so." Russia said.
"It's a children's book. It's super adorable. Give it a read some time, I think you'd like it." America said with a small smile.
"I will." Russia said. Then he continued the story. "The mice ate the cookies, then addressed the girl. 'Now that you have fed us, go find the black cat. He is very hungry. Feed him your ham slices, and he will help you.' The girl thanked the mice, and set off at once to find the cat. On her way, she saw her brother struggling. He had filled the sieve many times, but no matter what he did he could not fill the tub."
"What is a sieve?" America asked.
"It's a strainer." Russia answered. "Just then, birds flew overhead and called out to the children. 'Young children, feed us crumbs and we will advise you. The children did just that, and when the birds were satisfied, they spoke to the children once again. 'Some clay and water, children dear!' and with that they flew away. The children, understanding what they meant, filled the bottom of the sieve with clay and were able to fill up the tub in no time. After they were done, they returned to the hut and saw the black cat. Petting the cat, they fed him the ham. They then asked the cat, 'Please kitty, tell us how to escape your mistress the witch.' The cat replied very seriously. 'I shall give you a comb and a towel. When you run from the witch, should you hear her running behind you throw the towel over your shoulder, and a large river shall appear, and if you hear her again, throw the comb behind you and a large forest will appear.'"
"What? A towel and a comb?" America asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Most fairy tales don't." Russia chuckled. "Just then, Baba Yaga returned home. Promising to give the children harder tasks in the morning, she sent them to bed. The children hardly slept out of fear, and when the morning came, they took the comb and towel and ran away as fast as they could. Dogs chased after them as they ran, but they through the remaining cookies at them, which they ate. The gate would not open by itself, but when the children put oil on it, the gate opened. The birch tree near the path tried to scratch their eyes out but the girl tied a ribbon around it and it allowed them to pass. The children ran through the woods and into an open field.
"Their real grandmother really knew how to help them didn't she." America commented. "I wonder if she met Baba Yaga so she knew how to help them."
"That's a good theory." Russia said thoughtfully.
"Keep going, I want to know how it ends." America said eagerly.
Chuckling at the child like enthusiasm, Russia finished the story. "When the witch returned, she yelled at the cat, 'Why did you let the children escape you wicked cat, why did you not scratch their faces?' The cat replied, 'Though I have served you well, you never gave me a bite to eat, but the children fed me.' The witch also scolded the dogs, the gate, and the birch tree. The dogs stated, 'You may be our master, but you have never done us a favor, and the children were kind to us.' The gate said, 'I served you, but you never took care of me, the children gave me oil.', and finally the tree said, 'You never put a thread on my branches but the children gave me a ribbon.' Baba Yaga, finding that she would get no help hopped on her broom and took off after the children. The children, hearing her behind them, threw the towel behind them. At once, a wide river formed. Baba Yaga ran along the bank of the river until she found a part to cross. Hearing the witch behind them again, they threw the comb. At once, a forest grew, so thick and so dark that Baba Yaga could now get through it. Angrily, she gave up the chase and returned home. The children ran all the way home, and into the arms of their father. They told him everything, and he threw out his evil wife, and took care of his children forever more."
"That was a good story." America said as Russia finished his story. "It reminded me a bit of Hansel and Gretel."
"They are very similar." Russia said with a smile. "It is easy to mix them up sometimes. Are you feeling any better?"
"Uh, yeah actually, I do." America said in surprise. "Thanks, you really helped me out."
"It was no trouble." Russia said. Just then, they heard a scrapping sound above them. Looking up, they saw the ceiling panel being lifted, and a firefighter looking down at them.
"Are you guys alright?" The firefighter asked. "Do you need any medical assistance?"
"No, we're alright." America said standing up, Russia following him.
"We'll get a latter for you two in a minute, then you can finally get out of here." The firefighter said before he disappeared out of view.
"Do think the meeting is still going on?" America asked Russia.
"Probably. Although after all of this I think I'm just going to skip the meeting all together and get something to eat." Russia said with shrug. "You're welcome to join me if you want."
"I'd be more than happy to join you. I'm starving." America said jokingly. "I'm practically wasting away here."
"Uh-huh." Russia said in amusement. Just then, the fire fighter returned with the ladder, and after two hours of being stuck in the elevator, they finally were able to make it to the second floor.
"Are the stairs done being cleaned?" America asked one of the workers.
"Yeah, they just got done." The man said. "Lucky for you. If they weren't, you would have had to take the other elevator down.
Shuddering at the thought, Russia and America left the building, happy to be out of the building at last.
_Line break_
The next week, Russia was in his house, sitting at his desk in his office doing some paper work. Just then, he heard the doorbell ring. Curious as to who it could be, he opened the door and saw a post man.
"Are you Ivan Braginsky?" The man asked.
"Da." Russia said.
"Sign here." The mail man said. After signing it, the man handed him a small package, tipped his hat, and walked back to his truck. Curious, Russia shut the door and went back to his office. He was surprised to see it was from America. Opening the package, he was rather amused to find a small children's book called "If you give a mouse a cookie." Opening it up, he started to read. "If you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk."
A/N: Surprise, I'm not dead, just had the mother of all writing blocks and little motivation for some reason. *cough*stressandlazyness*cough* So here is a large chapter to make up for the near year I was missing. I'm thinking of making a new story soon, so keep your eyes out for it. The fun fact for this chapter is that 5% of all the people in the U.S.A is claustrophobic. By the way, Baba Yaga is a real fairy tale. If you want to read the real story, and not my short version of it, google it. Its a pretty good story. I grew up reading it, but I never knew the real name until a few months ago.