Here we are again, the second chapters for my dear readers. Thanks go to everyone who reviewed! And Dark Fenrir: your cookie was delicious :P I ate it while writing this chapter. This is dedicated to Italia, who is undercover as Kimichan77 or something like that :) Thanks for your help and for making me write this until 11:24pm!! (I am a very early sleeper, usually, and an early bird!) Read on and enjoy, everyone! Doitsu loves you! :)

Chapter 2

England had just finished the tea and also added a few scones to a small plate. The living room was quiet as he stepped in and he stopped short when he saw Russia sleeping on his sofa, half sitting up, half leaning against the armrest at an awkward angle.

It was not necessarily the fact that Russia was sleeping that surprised England, but his appearance. Dark circles were visible under his eyes and Russia seemed to be in the deepest of sleeps, as though he had not had any shut-eye for days. Lastly, it was his slight smile that threw England off.

Russia did not smile, well, he did, but on those occasions he generally was either threatening Latvia or Estonia or he was in an extremely odd mood, not boding well for any nations in the vicinity. Russia's smiles were usually given with an insane glint in his violet eyes and a scary undertone in his voice.

This new smile was something England had never even glimpsed before. It was open, in a way, maybe also innocent? And there was no voice or eyes to take away from that impression. Russia looked at peace, really.

Sighing deeply and turning these new thoughts over and over in his mind, England settled down opposite of Russia to wait for him to awaken.

The steaming tea stood between them on the low table, spreading its clear scent throughout the room and slowly growing cold.

-888-

Russia was not dreaming anymore. He was at the blurry edge between sleep and wakefulness, in some ways aware of his surroundings, but then again, not truly processing any of the information his brain did manage to gather.

His brain said: warm.

His brain said: soft.

His brain said: comfortable.

And Russia just remained where he was, not realising that he should be somewhere cold and uncomfortable- at his own home.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

Telephone! What? Huh? Where? Why? Quick! Russia straightened on the sofa, from one moment to the other startled into wakefulness.

He glanced around hectically, his eyes finally settling on the figure of England striding toward the phone, his body tense and high-strung, as though he were angry for its interruption in whatever he had been doing.

A quiet and terse ''Yes?'' was all the caller received.

Russia frowned. England? Then he remembered. Slowly sitting up, weary as he was, he tried to discern who his ally was talking to. This proved unnecessary because a second later, England practically shouted the name in outrage.

''FRANCE!''

A moment of silence.

''I am unable to understand the state of mind required to contemplate even thinking about that question!''

Silence again. Russia could see England's profile, eyebrows drawn into a frown and green eyes wide in dismayed surprise. He had one of his hands tangled in his hair, tugging on a few blonde strands in his agitation.

''No, no and no again, France. I told you before! What is it with the Allies today? How come I am the one everyone comes to for help?''

His irritable tone made Russia want to curl up and cover his ears, especially because he knew now that he was no more than a burden to him.

''Go marry someone else, you twat!''

The receiver made a clanking noise as England hung up. Russia saw him run a hand through his hair, hassled. A sigh escaped the smaller nation as he turned toward the sofa again. His eyes visibly softened and he looked apologetic as he saw that Russia was awake.

''I am sorry I woke you up, France was being stupid again.''

Russia tried sitting up more, but he felt blood rushing to his head and his vision blacked out for a moment. A warm hand on his right shoulder steadied him and England's concerned green eyes swam into vision.

''Are you all right?''

The question reminded Russia that England was annoyed at being the one always having to come to the rescue, even though his actions now seemed to suggest otherwise. Truthfully, Russia felt like asking to stay a few more hours in this comforting house, in front of that hearth, but, shooting a glance at the green-eyed nation, he decided he did not want to overstay his welcome.

Russia got up brusquely, attempting to ignore the blackness that swept his vision yet again.

-888-

Russia was acting strangely. He looked hurt, in a way, and hopeful at the same time. Still he didn't answer.

Suddenly, he got up. England was confused but quickly reached out to grab Russia as he swayed on his feet, eyes unfocused.

''You shouldn't get up so quickly, Russia-''

But Russia shrugged him off. Then, the violet eyes settled on him. ''Thank you. I will leave now.''

England was shaken by the look in Russia's eyes. A small glint of the madness that he sometimes glimpsed at summits had awoken in his eyes again. England shivered and stepped aside.

Without glancing back, Russia took his coat and stumbled out of the house, hunch-backed in the cooling air.

England watched him go, confused and taken aback.

He stayed leaning against the doorway pensively, only shutting the door when Russia was out of sight.

Why had Russia left so abruptly? Had he not been a good host, had he forgotten to offer Russia food or drink? Maybe it was Russian etiquette he had breached in some way?

Shaking his head, England cleared his mind of the questions. Russia had simply seen it fit to leave. However, England couldn't help but worry a little. Russia had been so weak, so fatigued and had almost fallen over twice, had England not helped steady him.

And what England could not get out of his mind either, was the glimpses of a different Russia he had seen today. A scared and insecure Russia, uncomfortably wringing his hands in England's kitchen. A truly innocent Russia, eyes closed and a slight smile playing on his lips as he slept.

This was not the huge nation who scared Lithuania and Latvia out of their wits on summits. This was not the ally he had known before.

England stopped next to a window and watched night fall, with cold wind howling around the house. He wrapped his arms around himself and imagined what the weather would be like in Russia.

-888-

The wind was biting cold and Russia suppressed a convulsive shiver. Normally, the cold did not faze him as much as it did now. He attributed the effect the cold had on him to the sickness he felt creeping through his body.

A cold drop landed on his nose and it was so cold, in fact, that Russia chanced a look toward the sky, which revealed a flurry of snowflakes falling down slowly but steadily. Soon, Russia was surrounded by shifting white walls of thick flakes, whipping around him and making it hard for him to see in any direction.

Russia wasn't sure when he had started not to recognise his surroundings. Maybe it was when he saw that the path was no longer there or maybe he might have realised he was lost when he saw the silouhette of a tall man clad in blue coming toward him with long strides and realised it was Austria.

At some point, Russia must have left the path and headed in another direction. The wrong direction.

Austria came to a halt in front of Russia and quickly took in his overall state.

Knowing it to be futile, Russia tried to stand straighter and look more menacing, but his pathetic attempt at making Austria leave him alone were unsuccessful. He was weak and he looked it, too.

''Russia?''

Tired violet eyes lifted to meet a set of fierce brown eyes. ''Austria. Please...''

A sharp motion of Austria's head cut Russia off. The taller nation had a serious look on his aristocratic face.

''I have no choice, Russia. We are at war. This is a chance I cannot let pass, you must understand.''

''Can't we pretend that we never crossed paths?'' Russia tried, feeling horrible for begging, but in his weakness could resort to nothing else.

Austria smiled a tight smile. ''It's nothing personal. Come with me without making a fuss and I will treat you just like any other guest... only with fewer freedoms.''

''Austria, you don't understand... I have to run a country, there are upheavals, revolution-''

''Sorry Russia. You don't even seem to be in a state to work. Come along now, or I'll have to put you in chains.'' The taller nation looked stern and unmovable.

Not wanting to waste the rest of his strength on fighting a losing battle, Russia put down his head and followed Austria, who nodded in approval at his compliance.

-888-

England watched the weather. It had gone from bad to worse. Now, it was actually snowing so hard that he couldn't even see the elm tree he had in his backyard, standing a mere 20 metres from his window.

He was worried. The weather was so awful and Russia was on his way home, had maybe even arrived already. Would he have made it home safely? And why did he leave so abruptly?

Getting weary of waiting and wondering, England walked over to his phone, hesitated a moment and then dialled Russia's number.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. England was getting impatient. Four times. An annoyed sigh. Five times. No answer. Six times. Maybe he had been too weak to make it home? Seven times. Was Russia okay? Clank.

England put down the receiver. Something wasn't right. Russia should have been in his palace by now. What had kept him?

Half an hour later, he called again. Still, no answer. England was getting edgy. What if the journey to and from England had been too much for the fatigued country? What if all of this was England's fault for coming up with the stupid idea of inviting Russia over for tea?

Making a decision, England stood, grabbed his long overcoat and stepped outside, into the ice-cold snowstorm.

-8888888-

Ohhh, Russia has been kidnapped! England to the rescue! :) Drop me a line!