I don't think there's too much left to this fic. :D Few more chapters? Maybe? Guh. An utterly miserable and upsetting Hetalia Day spent treated like an outcast has... almost soured me on the fandom in general. ^^; It's always fans that ruin things for me...

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Canada had left nearly an hour ago, and Russia still hadn't found America. It had occurred to him many times that it was likely America could have made his daring escape, but... well, even he wasn't that stupid, was he? He knew he had to hide from Canada, and he knew Russia would be too preoccupied to foil his plans. No, he had probably just found a good hiding spot and fell asleep.

Russia had new respect for England.

He had waited a half hour to start shouting his name, making sure Canada wasn't anywhere nearby. He scoured every inch of the place with no luck.

Russia was starting to wonder if he was wrong, if America was that stupid, and had gleefully escaped while his captor was preoccupied.

Then he remembered the attic.

It was small, dark, cobwebby, and creepy. It most certainly was the last place anyone would think to look for America. And it was the only place Russia had not checked, so with a resigned sigh, he headed that way.

Standing below the attic entrance, Russia frowned. No... surely America wouldn't have gone up there and closed the door. He must have run off. But it was the only place left, Russia had to check... "America? Are you up there?" He waited a moment, but there was no response. Surely he would have answered if he were there. But with another sigh, Russia tugged the door open and climbed up the narrow ladder, until he emerged in the small room. He peered around in the dim light, coughing when he inhaled a bit too much dust.

"R-Russia...?" a voice squeaked. "Is that really you?"

Russia uttered a surprised curse. "You are up here? Why didn't you answer me?"

A quivering mound in the corner turned, dim light reflecting off glasses. "I thought it might be another ghost..."

Russia scooted closer, pushing aside the box wall America must have been using as protection. "Another ghost?"

America nodded, huddling deeper into the dusty old blanket he had found. "I'm sure I saw one."

"America..." Russia couldn't help but smile, shaking his head. "What possessed you to hide up here?"

He knew that had been the wrong way to phrase it the second it left his mouth. "Possessed!" America yelped.

"I don't mean literally. Why did you hide up here? It's a big house, there are other hiding spots Canada wouldn't have looked."

"I wanted to make sure," America said, sounding almost sulky. "I don't want to get you in trouble. How did that go?"

"Oh, he still suspects me." Russia sighed again, then reached out for America. "Come on. Let's go down."

America gave an enthusiastic nod, taking Russia's hand and clinging to him as they returned to the ladder. He scampered down first, eager to escape the attic, and Russia followed with a helpless chuckle.

"Don't laugh..." America scowled, though the glare lost a bit of its terror with his violent shivering.

"I'm not laughing at you." Russia plucked some cobweb out of America's hair. "That was very nice of you, to hide in the attic for my sake."

"Oh." America rubbed the back of his neck. "Well hey. That's what heroes are for, right?" He inched closer, lowering his voice. "You'll sleep with me tonight, won't you?"

Russia's face heated. "R-right. So you can protect me, yes?"

"Yes. And you better not fall asleep first."

"I won't." Russia swallowed thickly. What had he been wanting to talk about? Oh, right... "Um." He licked his lips. "But maybe tomorrow... it would be best if you went home."

America drew back as if he had been slapped, eyes widening. "You want me to leave?"

"No!" Russia said with a violent shake of his head. "I do not. But it might be best if you did." He sighed heavily. "They suspect me, and it is only a matter of time before you are discovered here. And I will be in serious trouble. Or, on the slight chance that they believed you, you would be in serious trouble. Not nearly as much as I would be, but I still do not think you would like it."

America winced. "I suppose so..."

"And you have a job to do. And everybody is worried."

"Yeah..."

"And you can come right back once everything is straightened away. On a normal visit."

"True..."

"You will have to come up with a plausible excuse for disappearing." Russia paused. "We will have to come up with a plausible excuse."

America shrugged. "I can just say I got wasted right after the meeting, and woke up in Tijuana."

"Oh." Russia blinked. "They would believe that?"

"Yes. Yes they would."

"Maybe we can think a bit more about your excuse..."

"Oh. Okay." America raked a hand through his hair. "Why all the concern, anyway? You wouldn't worry about any of this if you had kidnapped me. They still would have worried about me and suspected you and investigated, and I'd still have work I needed to do, and..."

Russia no longer had the slightest idea what he would be doing if his kidnapping attempt had been successful. To be honest, he hadn't really thought about those sorts of repercussions. He supposed he probably should have. "I don't know. But I didn't succeed. I'll kidnap you again once everyone knows we are friends, okay?"

"It won't be the same. This time, the attempt was real."

Russia lost a little of his newfound respect for England. Clearly the man had frequently dropped his colonies on their fragile little heads.

"Don't look at me like that!" America gave Russia a light shove. Which for him was a heavy shove from anybody else, and Russia stumbled back. "It's been fun. I don't know why!" America's cheeks reddened. They had been doing that a lot lately, from the strangest things. "I like being here..."

And Russia felt his face heat up again. "I do, too." He rather liked the idea of America returning later as a normal guest.

"Say." Face turning an alarming shade of red, America cleared his throat. "If you had kidnapped me, would you have... you know... done... stuff?"

Stuff. Judging by the worst blush Russia had ever seen on the man, he could guess what that 'stuff' was. "Ah..."

"Well?" America sidled closer.

"I, uh..." Oh lord. Would he have? No! Of course not! Not if America was a... an unwilling prisoner... no, no. "I would n-"

His denial was cut off by America's lips, and his brain killed the engine and tossed away the key.