A/N: Hm. I guess this story is going alright so far, don't you think? I have no idea. I was thinking it was a little boring but most of you don't seem to think so. I need to put in more Russia. He is fun to write. Lots of giggles and creepy smiles to go around. I am trying to keep up with how long chapters should be and it is troubling but I'm sure every chapter will be fairly long.
That's a good thing if you like this story, though. A bad thing if you don't, but then I guess the real question is: why are you even reading this if you don't like it?
I slipped in little cameos, even a mention of Israel since America seems to be friends with them. I think Israel would be a cute friend.
Anyways, please enjoy. Any typos I'll fix later.
Now Matthew was an easygoing guy, he was certain. And he was sure everybody else would be certain of that too...if they ever took the time to notice him…even once would be nice…or say hello occasionally…did they hate him or something…what did he ever do to them…
B-but the real fact of that matter was that because of his easygoingness he was able to understand people to a greater extent than – oh, say – his brother for instance. America tended to be abrasive and loud and overall inconsiderate; he was the total opposite of Matthew for goodness sake. Matthew couldn't help but sigh when crawling out of bed with such a depressing thought in the morning. He paddled his way over to the bathroom with a quiet yawn and patted his bear's head fondly who rested on his pillow.
America may have been all of those horrible things, but Matthew couldn't help but feel a little jealous of his twin. At least with an attitude like that, he left an impression. And Matthew really wanted one of those for Christmas. Santa Claus always left him a post it to his stocking saying he was always out of impressions but would inform him via email when a new stock came in. The most impression he possessed – if one could even call it that – was whenever one of the handful of people who occasionally noticed him needed his assistance.
He supposed being the helpful one would be enough for the moment, even if it was still deflating whatever self-esteem he still had for social situations.
Matthew opened his bathroom door and stepped onto the cold tiles, fully intent on getting ready for the meeting in an hour when his eyes caught a blurry blob settling in his bathtub. The Canadian blinked curiously before reaching for his glasses on the countertop. He settled them on his nose and sniffed, turning indigo eyes to the blonde mass muttering behind his shower curtain. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up so fast that he could have guessed that he resembled a porcupine.
An intruder.
There was an intruder in his bathtub!
Oh Lord, Oh Jesus. Matthew froze to the floor and clenched his hands together in concern. He'd never dealt with intruders before. Weren't hotels safer about this sort of thing or did Germans find it normal to hide in someone's bathroom at night? Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, Matthew glanced around the bathroom for anything he could use to protect himself. He spotted a bar of soap, a few towels, a toothbrush, and –
He paused before leaning over quietly and snatching the toothpaste, unscrewing the cap gently. Toothpaste could work, right? It was like pepper spray if squirted in an eyeball, right? He clenched the tube and took baby steps towards the grumbling person hiding in his bathtub. His knees quivered and he clenched his eyes shut when resting right in front of the teal curtain.
Oh man, this was like that movie America made. Psycho or something, wasn't it? Matthew shivered and hoped the person wasn't some weirdo who thought Matthew looked like their mother and was stalking him, going to stab him and watch his blood swirl down the bathtub drain when he pulled back the curtain. Matthew cursed his haircut and slender frame all of the sudden. He vowed that if he lived through this then he would shave his head and start taking steroids or something.
Now or never he thought and hesitantly grasped the curtain, holding the toothpaste ready to strike. With a breath he tore the material back and squirted with all his might in the person's face. A familiar yell reached his ears as he fell on the bathroom mat with wide eyes. Matthew watched as America rubbed at his face vigorously, cursing all the while.
"Mattie, what the hell, man!"
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't k-know it was – sorry! I'm – oh, Alfred – Wait. What are you doing in my bathroom?" Matthew stopped his stuttering apology to narrow his eyes at his brother who was sitting up, minty swirls vaguely still noticeable around his eyes and smeared against his glasses.
"Gosh. This stuff burns. What is – is this toothpaste?" America asked and took a taste from his fingertip with a raised eyebrow. Matthew watched as his brother sat up in the tub and rubbed at his squinting eyes.
"Yes. You scared me," Matthew explained and kneaded his fingers in the plush expanse of his shower mat.
"So you attack me with your toothpaste? Boy, aren't you the modern day Rambo," America grumbled and started rolling the toilet paper to wipe the remaining mint from his tingly face. Matthew sat up and crossed his legs, watching his brother's curious antics before adjusting his glasses.
"What are you doing in here, Alfred?"
America kicked the toilet seat open and leaned over to toss the used paper inside the bowl. He flushed it and rubbed a hand through his cornflower hair before resting back against the bath nozzles. "Hiding."
Matthew blinked curiously. "…Why?" he asked suspiciously, knowing that it was never a good thing to have America hiding around him. With Matthew's luck he would end up being dragged into trouble with whomever his twin was hiding from. The people America hid from were always government officials, angry nations, debt collectors, and disgruntled, overworked fast food employees.
America frowned suddenly and stared at the little tins of soap at his feet. He didn't answer immediately catching Matthew off guard, a ripple of concern melding against his stomach lining. "Alfred?" America crossed his arms and sank further into the tub with an annoyed groan and covered his face with his hands muttering something about being too tired and not wanting to deal with him so early. Matthew leaned over the tub at his squirming brother lost in his thoughts before he rested his chin against the side of the tub. Who was 'him' that America was referring to?
"Are you alright?" Matthew asked and got a grunt in response. He sighed and poked his brother with a small frown. "Alfred," he said more insistently. America proceeded to ignore him making Matthew roll his eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me. But I need to get ready for the meeting. Whether I have to take a shower with you in there doesn't make much of a –"
"Don't kick me out, Mattie! I have nowhere else to go," America wailed and sprung up to cling to his startled twin. Matthew watched as America looked desperately at him with shining blue eyes and fingers gripping his arm like a vice. "Arthur was gone and Kiku wouldn't let me inside. I don't have anywhere else to go except France but I can't do that. He helped raise you so you know where I'm coming from! Maattieee –"
Matthew sputtered and finally managed to wriggle free from his brother and plop on the bathroom tiles. "Okay, okay. You can stay, just please don't start crying…"
He rubbed at his eyes and heard a sniffle from above him before it was silent once more. "I don't cry," America mumbled stubbornly and stepped out of the bathtub. Matthew stared up at him when America offered a minty hand that the Canadian accepted easily. He was pulled to his feet and followed curiously after America who sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Why are you hiding?" Matthew asked again, glancing down at his bear who hadn't seemed to be disturbed at all from America's minor outburst.
America stiffened and looked like just being reminded of why he was in this particular hotel room hurt his brain. America took a few reassuring breaths before smiling up at Matthew. The Canadian felt weary at that look, shining in all its mischievous glory.
"Because I need you to do me a favor."
Matthew braced himself against the look piercing his face and making his stomach a jumble of nervous knots. He shook his head slowly and twined his fingers together, starting to pull at them in slight distress. "Oh, I don't know Alfred –"
America shot up from the bed and surprised his brother by gripping his shoulders, face hovering but inches from his face. Matthew gulped and stared surprised into his brother's glinting blue eyes. "Please, Mattie. I really need you for this pal. I can't go out there alone with that psychopath looking for me. You wouldn't make me do that, would you? Not to your sweet, adorable brother."
Matthew narrowed his eyes hesitantly and chewed against his lip like a beaver does bark from a tree. "Who are you talking about?"
America's fingers dug deeper into his skin and he withheld a wince. America's voice dripped with paranoia making Matthew stare in disbelief when the word tumbled in a bitter hiccup from his brother's throat. "Russia."
"Russia? Wh…Why – Wait, I'm not getting this, Alf – Russia?" Matthew garbled and tried to squirm out of his brother's grasp which was unrelenting. He started trying to head for the bathroom to lock himself in, knowing full well that he didn't want to participate in whatever America had up his sleeve. America whined and clung desperately until they were both on the floor, one panicking and seeking his bear's help. "I don't want any part of this, Alfred! If this is another Cold War thing then you can get yourself out of it without my help – please let go."
America huffed and shook Matthew's hand away from his face with a jerk of his head and pinned him halfway to the carpeting to stared him down. "But you helped me last time."
"That was different," Matthew weakly protested and looked away. "That involved mass weaponry and people's lives were on the line –"
"My life is on the line," America warned with a frown. Matthew faltered slightly and peered cautiously back up at his twin.
"…Your life is always on the line," he muttered. America settled back on his calves and let Matthew sit up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. After a moment of silence and avoiding America's thick, demanding stare, Matthew whimpered slightly and sighed. "What did you do to him this time?"
America furrowed his eyebrows. "Nothing," he spat and crossed his arms. "He's just…I don't know. I think he's following me."
"Why?"
"If I knew that I woulda told you a long time ago. He's just been everywhere I've been. I mean, ever since I got here he's everywhere I am – a step before I do it. It's really freakin' me out. I couldn't even leave the lobby because he's standin' by the fuckin' doors," America said with poorly contained nausea.
Matthew picked at the carpeting below him before speaking quietly. "Are you sure you didn't do anything to make him mad?"
"How should I know? Russia's not someone you can analyze. He gets upset with the stupidest things."
Matthew sighed. "So you probably did make him mad. He must just want to rectify it by cornering you when you're alone or something." He couldn't help but pity his insensitive brother at the shiver that wracked his form. Matthew placed his hand gently against America's and watched as America peered curiously down where they were connected. "I'll help."
America's head shot up to his with wide eyes. Matthew's breath caught a moment in his throat before he shook his head and withdrew his hand to rub at his face. "B-but just this once…I don't want to get looped into whatever problems you've caused." The bear hug that nearly snapped his spine in half wasn't unexpected but he didn't have enough time to brace himself for it. America grinned against his brother's neck before standing up abruptly leaving his crippled twin on the floor.
"Thanks a bunch. I knew I could count on you, Matt!"
"Yeah, yeah," Matthew groaned and attempted to stand. He ended up carefully making his way over to a chair and sat down like a brittle, broken ornament. "So what did you have in mind?"
His brother whipped around with a terrifying grin that made Matthew regret his agreement to lend a helping hand.
"You're going to distract him."
Matthew blinked his big doe eyes and let his mouth hang open. America smiled and hoisted his thumb to point at his chest.
"By pretending to be me."
What a wonderful morning it was on Ivan's last day in Germany. The brief conferences the nations held that were only but a few days had started to come to a close putting not even a damper on his cheery mood. He cherished each day he awoke, not for the current events and global problems that would be discussed, but for the amusement soon to follow afterwards. Three days – three simple days but they were wonderful days full of America's unlimited energy and intriguing faces and colorful language.
He certainly didn't disappoint when it came to amusement.
But alas, all good things must come to an end (including his personal time with his new hobby). Yes, he could always call America on his telephone or leave sweet little messages through e-mail, but that was nothing compared to being up close in person when the blonde tripped over Ivan's foot – which was just merely an unlucky occurrence…really, only a delightful coincidence – and fell flat on his face, or seeing his face crinkle up in that enjoyable way when reading his notes that he ordered Latvia to pass across the table.
Ivan couldn't help the eager tremor that wracked his shoulders and flexed his fingers at the thought of waiting another month to see America's chipper and oh so stupid face again.
Ah, speaking of said idiot – Ivan peeked up from the hem of his bangs that dusted against his eyelashes at a small, shivering man ducking occasionally behind random hotel patrons. Ivan smiled and chuckled to himself. America was still so very amusing, even at this hour of the day. He casually threw his scarf over his shoulder and smoothly trotted over to where America was hiding and waved.
"Pryvet, dear America."
He heard the blonde squeak, seeming to shiver even more and hold a hand up to his face. "H-h-hello Russia…"
Ivan blinked curiously and tilted to peer around the person America was hiding behind. America scrambled away to another person, Ivan following him leisurely.
"Is something the matter? You appear to be acting stranger than usual." Ivan pulled back a chair only for America to move away and put his jacket hood on. This was peculiar indeed. Where were the vulgar words or flinchy facial contortions?
"I-I'm fine…" America assured and proceeded to move out of the hotel. Ivan easily caught up without breaking a sweat with such large legs of his, hand clasping onto one of America's shoulders that seemed much daintier then the last time he had grabbed onto him to frighten him in good humor in the dark.
"America, I – oh." Ivan stared down into the pale, frightened face of America's less amusing counterpart. What was his name…? Oh, it didn't matter really. He wasn't important. His grip seemed to tighten, a dark smiling pulling up Ivan's face at the realization that this shuddering blonde nation was wearing America's coat and gloves. "Hello person of no significance dressed as if to resemble America. How are you doing on this fine morning?"
Canada's teeth chattered and he didn't think it was because of the cold or the snow. He shrank under that expectant, icy gaze and his resolve crumbled. Sorry Alfred, Canada thought when he couldn't feel anything but the tundra freezing off the top layer of his skin where Russia was touching him.
"I-I-I'm…I'm g-goo…goo–"
"That is just dandy. Perhaps you could answer me a quick question before we part ways very soon."
"O-oh? Yeah, sure…" Canada managed to get out when the Russian leaned closer to his face, the air getting thicker as hefty clumps clogged his airway. It was like someone had put a plastic bag over his head.
"Where is the other person with your face only with stupider features?" Ivan asked coolly.
Canada clenched his eyes shut tighter and shrank practically against the snowy billows on the ground. He apologized to America once more before caving in. He pointed further up the street to a cab getting farther and farther away at an even pace. Ivan straightened and watched the yellow square get smaller before letting go of Canada's shoulder, the Canadian's knees unable to take the pressure anymore and snapping under him. Ivan withheld the small little laugh he wanted to let loose at America's paranoid "escape attempt" as he was sure to deem it and sidestepped the nervous nation at his feet, tears nearly spilling from large indigo eyes.
"Thank you for your cooperation. You were very helpful," Ivan smiled and giggled to himself at Canada's blubbery face. He was the spitting image of his brother that was for sure. Oh well, one little tease wouldn't hurt if he could make the boy cry. "I hope to see you at the meeting in a bit. I will certainly inform America of how helpful you were to me."
Ivan's smile nearly split his face when Canada's eyes watered, a trail of boogers accompanying the wet pools in his eyes. What was it about this face that entertained him so? "Please be safe…" he paused, still unsure of who exactly this person was.
"C-Canada," the blonde wailed and rubbed at his face, knowing America was surely going to beat him into next week for his failure.
"Whatever. Do svidaniya!" With that he was out of the quivering little Canadian's sight and heading towards his destination. It was such a beautiful morning, not even that chilly so Ivan thought walking wouldn't be such a chore to do. He enjoyed as people were kind enough to jump and scamper away to create a pathway through the crowded streets just for him. It would have been much harder to walk if he had to worm his way through a mass of people in large, poofy coats. Germans really were nice people.
He smiled and waved at them in thanks on his way to the meeting hall, all of them making such appealing faces when he made eye-contact with them. By the time Ivan had made it to his desired aim, America was just barely inside, peeling his twin's coat from his arms. Ivan snickered; traffic was very bad here as well.
"Good morning, America," Ivan greeted and watched the muscles in America's neck tense showing off his tendons like strategically placed tent poles holding up his bulbous head. America turned with stiff movements like rusty hinges and frowned in disbelief.
"How did you get here so fast? Did you take a car too?" he coughed and rolled the coat over his elbow.
"Nyet. I decided to take a calming stroll. I appreciate your interest in my safety traveling here, though." America balked and shook his head. Ivan fell into step towards the elevator with his American ally (yes, he would willingly use ally; they were technically allies) and continued on without a care. "That is your brother's coat, is it not?" he pointed out.
America took two large steps to create some space between the two and pressed at the elevator again. "Yeah," he uttered blandly. Ivan's eyes twinkled with interest and he hummed against his gloved hand.
"And when I ran into him a moment ago he was wearing yours. Do you generally swap with him to entertain yourself?"
"'Kay."
Even though America's answer didn't make sense, Ivan continued with an enthusiastic clap, the elevator opening in synch with his hand movements. He stepped inside and politely pressed the sought out floor. "How exciting! It is just like that movie your country made a while back. I am vaguely aware of it but have never really seen all of it. Do you know which is the movie I am referring to? The one with the girl who is now involved in terrible alcohol and judicial system problems."
"I'm aware of the Parent Trap," America said and crossed his arms. Ivan noticed the slight shiver against his arms. Perhaps he shouldn't have taken off his coat yet. "I was the one who fuckin' made it for crying out loud."
Ivan rocked back on his heels and stared up at the floors lighting up. "Who knew you thought your fictional movies were reality."
America shot a glare at him which made Ivan hold back a chuckle, knowing America wouldn't appreciate it at the moment. The elevator chimed and the doors were open, America walking briskly down the hallway. He had given up on the idea of running away in buildings, knowing it would only be futile with Ivan's long legs and that he'd look absolutely stupid running down the hall. Last time he did that it was to get away from Sweden who he accidentally spilled scalding hot coffee all over.
A rumor had started that an international game of tag was going on. For the next few conferences after that, everyone started chasing him and slapping him (he was sure even a few people threw in a punch or two) and saying You're it!
America shivered. "If I ever catch the guy who started that…" he grumbled bitterly under his breath.
"Hm? What did you say, America?" Ivan asked and peered down at the irritated nation, somehow seeming angrier for some reason.
"Nothing," America replied dully. He pushed open the conference doors and proceeded to move to his seat. When flinging his brother's coat over the back he plopped down ungracefully – something America was very accustomed to – in his chair with a grunt. He looked to his neighbor, that Japan fellow, and smiled. "Morning Kiku," he greeted.
Japan rustled about a bit in his seat. "Ah – Uhm…Hello America-sa–"
"Alfred."
"Alfred-san…You're here early again."
America sighed with a smile, swiping a hand through his bangs. "I'm – let's say I'm trying to change my priorities," he muttered, eyes skimming away for the briefest of seconds to a certain British man in spick-and-span attire organizing folders. The corners of his mouth twitched for a minute before he resumed his regular expression. "But I don't know how long it's going to last," he laughed.
"…I see," Japan said in a curt, delayed answer. America opened his eyes to finally notice the cautious disposition of his friend. He leaned forward a bit and waved a hand in Japan's face, inquisitive as to the cause of such a strange expression.
"Hey, you alright? You look like you're trying to pass a bottle of glass through your stomach."
Japan shifted, eyes flittering to America. "Alfred-san."
America perked up. "Yeah?"
"I suppose I am a little curious…"
"About what?"
"Why Russia has been standing beside you since you've walked in the doors," Japan said and looked back up to the smiling Russian leaning against the side of the table, not granting access for Finland to get to his seat.
America immediately stiffened and turned around in a swoop, eyes staring in surprise at the person who he expected to just go to their seat over by the other Soviet weirdos. Ivan usually did that – at least every day before this one. But there he was, leaning against the clean table, watching the brief exchange of words from Japan who looked positively tense.
Ivan smiled knowingly down at America, surely catching every small movement he'd made. What a discovery.
"How interesting," Ivan breathed and enjoyed it dearly when America stiffened uncomfortably at such a smile. Japan looked curiously towards his friend, knowing he was being left out of something.
"Is something wrong, America-san?"
"Alfred," America corrected without taking his eyes away from Ivan. "Please go away," he said, feigning politeness towards his taller guest.
"I wish to join this conversation you were just in," Ivan chirped and ran his fingers against the smoothness of the tabletop. America smacked his hand away when it got a little too close for comfort.
"No. You didn't RSVP. Now go away," America said and made a 'shoo' noise, waving his hand as if to dismiss Ivan.
"We have ten minutes before the meeting is to start. That is more than enough time to discuss the weather or a favorite sports team." Ivan leaned over, lips pulling up in eagerness when America scooted back into Japan. "I am sure even Japan here would not mind." Said nation just frowned uncomfortably towards the unwanted guest.
"We're fine. You probably have better things to do like freak other people out or sit in a dark corner watching everyone. You know, Russian stuff." America huffed and turned away. He jolted when Ivan pulled his chair back with one swift movement of his arm.
"Your lack of basic knowledge on Russian culture is unfortunate."
America set his mouth in a flat line. "Then you're the anomaly I guess."
Ivan chuckled. "Such a big word. I did not know you were aware of the meaning."
"Oh, I know it alright," America said with a pleasant smile. "It means turn around."
Ivan blinked curiously. Was this some sort of American game? Is that why America looked so pleased all of the sudden? He glanced towards Japan who was looking to where America was, understanding seeping behind his inky, black orbs. Feeling a bit on the confused side, Ivan shifted to see where America was looking and went rigid, a ball of incomprehensible fear ricocheting through his bones.
"I think your sister wants you," America laughed smugly. Ivan quickly backed up at the sight of Belarus making her way over to America's side of the table, her face clearly distraught on why her brother did not immediately sit with his other comrades. America watched as a string of distraught Russian tumbled quietly from Ivan's mouth – much like those incantations for an exorcism – before the tall nation made for the doors.
Well there was always one certain way of getting rid of Ivan; his sister always did the trick.
"Thank you," America chimed to Belarus in a sing-song voice. She scowled at him, ignoring his presence altogether and followed after her frightened brother's form. With both of the crazy Russian's out of sight for the moment, America was able to have a little bit of peace. Oh well. Ivan would be out of his hair after today anyway; no need to waste any effort.
The meeting was unproductive, more so than usual, Alfred thought. Germany's projector kept getting jammed which delayed everyone a good deal. Alfred grumbled and stretched his muscles when seeing that it was already night outside. That was an unpleasant thought. He checked his watch and silently cursed when seeing it was ten thirty. So much for exploring the town…
He put on his coat and gloves, clearly exchanged with his brother earlier. He saw the guilt flowing out of Canada in droves but decided not to get bent out of shape over it. He knew that diversion plan would only buy a few minutes anyway. Leaving the conference building, Alfred noticed that Russia hadn't even so much as glanced at him since cornered by his sister earlier that morning. It didn't bother him, but it did catch his attention.
He expected Russia to try and follow him out of the building and try to bait him into doing something stupid with that snowman but he never did.
Huh.
Alfred pulled his collar up around his chin when the wind hit his cheeks. Perhaps he was acting a bit paranoid. Maybe Russia being around so much this trip was really a coincidence. Those were real, weren't they? Like was it a coincidence when he came over to Japan's house that the video games were set out and cabinets stalked with sweet treats? Certainly. And was it a coincidence that France was always naked when drinking? Probably…
So, yes. There were coincidences and Russia must've just been a huge one.
Not wanting to walk back to his hotel and get to sleep, Alfred attempted to flag down a taxi. When a car finally stopped and pulled up to the curb he went to open the door but one smaller hand beat him to it. Alfred looked up to see the surprised face of China staring back at him.
"Oh. Hey. Uhm…" Alfred started to say but China let go of the handle and placed his hands up defensively.
"Ah – no. You…" he stopped himself and they both stood like idiots in the cold, German night. The cab driver seemed to be getting antsy, wondering why his potential customers weren't getting in.
Alfred scratched the back of his head awkwardly and gestured limply to the car. "Do you…you know, want it? I can always find another one." Even though I don't want to. Ow, my knees are sore!
China glanced towards the car in thought. "Oh. Well – no, you can take it, aru. I will find another."
"You sure?" Alfred asked, eyes hopeful. China nodded.
"I will be alright." With that he started to walk away. Alfred bit his lip and took another hesitant, tired look at the door before huffing.
"Hey, wait! How about we share? We're goin' the same way, right?" he offered helpfully. China stopped and turned, a bit cautious before accepting the offer. Alfred shrugged carelessly. "But if you want to freeze out here that's cool too." China perked up before shaking his head. He came forward and muttered a thank you when Alfred opened the door for him. Alfred climbed in shortly after and let the cab take off. He was immediately regretting his generosity when he noticed how awkward the silence was. Perhaps he and China should talk more often he wondered silently.
After a long while his skin started to crawl uncomfortably, fingers twitching in his lap. He turned to his Asian companion with a small smile, mouth open ready to start some sort of conversation when China beat him to it.
"How are you, aru?"
Alfred shut his mouth, smile falling, before muttering, "Good. And you?"
China let out a small breath and stared out the front window. "You seem to not like sitting beside me," he pointed out like it was as common as saying the sky was blue. Alfred seemed a bit taken aback by that and shook his head quickly, mouth tweaking up in an actor's smile.
"What? No way. Where'd you get that idea?"
China ran his fingers over the material of his pants before sighing with a small smile. "Your posture screams it all. I commend your ability in acting, but I assure you it's not needed, aru. I do find myself a bit curious to something, America."
Alfred settled in his seat. "What's up?"
China seemed a bit hesitant to something before shutting his eyes, looking as if the world were resting on his shoulders. Alfred craned his neck to get a better look at China's face in the darkness but it was all wasted. The lights from the cars were the only source of brightness and that wasn't nearly enough to capture what the eastern nation was feeling.
"You aren't foolish when it comes to the larger matters at hand, are you?" China asked. Alfred shifted and pulled at the loose threads on his pants.
"Uh, I don't think so," he answered, not sounding too confident in himself but hoping that that was what China wanted to hear.
"I am being serious, aru."
Alfred bit into his bottom lip and looked around as if hoping to find the words China needed to hear written about the car. "Me too."
"You don't sound too confident," China chuckled and looked at Alfred for the first time since stepping in the car. Alfred felt a bit uncomfortable under such an analyzing gaze. What was with people looking at him like that recently?
"Huh? Uhm, well I am. You see, I keep up on current global topics of the…of the important nature. Yeah, that's it. Real good stuff in that meeting there. I was really paying attention to the part about–" China cut him off mid-ramble with a hand. He shook his head and smiled slightly.
"I wasn't referring to the conference, aru. Never mind. If I'm correct you will understand soon enough."
Alfred blinked and felt completely lost. What was China talking about? The car stopped suddenly and Alfred looked towards the driver before his surroundings. They were already at the hotel much to Alfred's surprise. He thought they had a lot longer to go. Turning back to China, Alfred found himself sitting alone. He saw the small Asian walking towards the hotel and scurried from the car, throwing various bills at the driver not really caring how much extra he'd given him.
"Hey, hold up. What were you talking about?" Alfred asked when he caught up to China. The shorter nation smiled at him.
"I suggest unhooking your phone, aru. Wǎn ān, America." China dipped his head in a small bow and turned away, not longer interested in talking to the blonde anymore. Alfred stood in the lobby a bit confused. He pulled out his cell phone and inspected it.
"My phone? How do you unhook a cell phone?" he wondered aloud.
Alfred completely forgot about his worldly duties the moment he reached his hotel room, head hitting the pillow and consciousness fading. As far as he was concerned he wouldn't have to think again until next month. The flight home wasn't nearly as bad as the flight to Germany. He figured it was due to the pressure of the discussions that awaited. But now that his duties were fulfilled that month he was free to enjoy the slippers and the free food and everything great that came with first class.
He had major jet lag when getting home, throwing his suitcase in a messy heap by his doorway. With a yawn and a pained groan at his tense muscles, Alfred walked down his hallway towards his kitchen. He tapped the Home Sweet Home sign hanging above the arch and opened his fridge, a can of sweet, icy cola awaiting him. He sighed and wiped his mouth, turning back down his hallway intent on going for his television. Something stopped him curiously in his tracks making Alfred turn to see his coffee table in the hallway directly under his staircase.
A red light beeped (calling for his attention) making Alfred turn around and press the answering machine button. He took a sip and listened, expecting just messages he got from his boss that he usually received when he went out of town. The woman's familiar voice greeted his ears as he took another large sip from his Coke.
"You have – 26 new messages–"
Alfred spit the brown substance all over his white walls and a picture of him and Israel putting bunny ears on an annoyed Canada. 26 messages? How the heck did he have 26 messages? A tremor of worry rippled in his stomach, thinking of the possibility that it was a national emergency. He looked down at the machine eagerly and waited for the woman to continue.
"First new message: From phone number," the woman listed a number that Alfred heard often – also he had it secretly memorized. It was England.
"Alfred. Blast it you need a new answering machine. It's much too long and it is a bother for me to sit through. Please change it before I call you again." There was a brief pause as England sighed. "I'm just calling to make sure you didn't forget your suitcase again. You probably will because you're too stupid to do anything correct the first time. I'm bringing a spare just in case you don't remember." Alfred stared at the machine, something warm tickling his stomach like a million caterpillar legs. He swallowed whatever drink he had in his mouth when the awkward pause drifted on too long. "Anyways, have a safe trip."
The machine clicked indicating that England had hung up leaving Alfred standing uneasily in his hallway, fingers flexing around the can in his hands. The time and date showed that England had called an hour after he'd left for the conference. Alfred set his can down and twiddled his fingers together before pushing the button for the next message.
It was the same day he'd gotten to Germany, from a number he was unfamiliar with. When the voice entered his ears he stiffened, knowing exactly who it was on the other end.
"Good morning, America. It is morning where you are, is it not? You have probably already left for the airport so I know you will not get this until you return home in a few days. I just was sitting around and found myself wondering what type of weather is your favorite? It will be snowy here in beautiful Germany so it just got me thinking. I assume it will be summer because of your strange obsession with tanning. Surprisingly that is my favorite as well, contrary to popular belief. Please be sure to dress warmly. I look forward to seeing you once more."
Alfred gaped at the machine and clicked delete immediately to get rid of Russia's voice. Why was Russia calling him when he was already supposed to be in Germany? He clicked for the next message to play and was horrified to hear the same number.
"Hello, America. It is nighttime here in Germany and I had another thought occur to me. You seem to like coffee a bit so I am going to buy a cup. I used to like this drink a long time ago but it does not suit my taste anymore. I do not wish to drink it but I see you coming inside this restaurant. Perhaps I will give it to you."
Deleted.
"Good evening, America. I found out that you do not like stars. I wonder why? You looked very angry when I brought them up –"
Deleted.
"Good morning, America. I was thinking about the meeting today. You didn't look very –"
Deleted.
"Good afternoon, America –"
Deleted.
"Good –"
Deleted.
Alfred clicked incessantly at his machine, eyes wide with disbelief. All of them – all of them were from Russia. Three days…All three days…
His mind was spinning.
With great annoyance, Alfred unplugged his answering machine.
So that's what China was meaning.