'Little souls find their way to you, whether from your womb or somewhere else.'

Russia trudged down the stairs and out into the streets, grumbling a little. It had been 6 weeks since he last saw England (not that he was counting) and now his damned president had sent him out for milk. Milk! Him! The personification of Russia was out getting milk because his president needed his coffee like Russia needed sunflowers. And it was the middle of the night. Did his president not care about him? He could be killed out here!

(Forgoing the fact that he was 6ft and carrying a large metal pipe... and he was absolutely pissed).

He got the milk from the shop, handing the money over to the quaking Russian girl who looked as if he had just murdered her whole family. It was then he realised he had been chanting 'kolkolkol' all that time, and releasing a dark aura. He internally sighed, snatched the milk from the girl and stalked out.

"YOOOOOOOOO RUSSSIA! I MEAN, PRAY-VET, DUDE!"

Oh no. Oh, please God, no. But he would recognise that terrible accent anywhere... "Hello, Amerika."

"Whatcha doing? Milk! Awesome! My president sent me too! Brrrr, it's so cold here! Is there a Mcdonalds nearby? Maybe we should set something on fire to get warm..."

How about you? Russia thought nastily as America continued to rant. His mind slowly shut down until he realised that if America was in his country then -

"Wotcher, America - oh. Hello Russia," said England as he approached. His eyes softened just a little as he was standing behind America, so there was no chance of being seen. "America, I was sent after you after I told your president there was a 96% chance you'd die... and it seems I was about to be proven right."

Russia opened his mouth to protest but realised, with a jolt, that England was teasing. His tone was a little cautious, but it was teasing nonetheless. America didn't seem to realise this as he began ranting about how he was a hero and Google would protect him. Russia smiled, dark aura fading.

"I'm sure you can make your own way back without getting killed. Your brother is lurking somewhere near the greenhouses, he'll help you."

"What are you gonna do? Also, which brother?"

"Australia, he needs somewhere warm to put those damn snakes of his... Anyway, I'll walk Russia back. Seems only fair, doesn't it? Cheerio, America."

England stepped forwards in place next to Russia and the two began walking off. "FROOT LOOPS TO YOU TOO! ALSO RUSSIA -"

"Nyet!"

"DOE SID-DIAN-YAY!" He ran off into the night before Russia could launch his pipe at him for butchering his language.

"Don't be so upset, he can't even speak English right," England said, amused. His eyes softened completely in the dim light of the lamps as they ambled back together. "How have you been, Russia? How do you feel?"

"I'm... normal, I guess," Russia said, because 'fine' and 'normal' were two very different things where he was considered.

"Your headaches are gone? Not staring too long at the screens?"

"Yes, it's all fine now."

"That's good." They walked in silence for a while, but it was peaceful. Russia breathed in the scents of peppermint and tea and relaxed, despite it being dark. "You know, France and I hold a little gathering every year. It's the only thing I willingly co-operate with the frog on. You're welcome to come, if you wish."

Russia stopped and stared. England went up to Russia's front door and rung the bell. "Me? You're inviting me?"

"Yes. It's a little gathering, just for friends. I didn't see the point of leaving you out." The reasoning was logical, but England's expression told a different story. "Please come. France and I would love to have you. August 19, midday to one o'clock arrival."

"Russia, you have key, stupid, why you knocking on your... own... house..." the president looked sheepish as England raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well your security is terrible if you're opening the front door. I could have just murdered you. Also, your skylight is open and that security camera seems to be very interested in that bush over there. Good night, Mr President, Russia." England sounded way too cheerful as the president also came to that realisation too and disappeared into the house to scream at the FSB. "And of course he leaves the front door unmanned..." He patted Russia on the shoulder, laughing lightly, before walking off back into the night.

Russia went inside and put the date in his calendar while the president disconnected Mario Party (to the complaints of the FSB).