Misleading title is misleading
This isn't about the Space Race, so don't expect that.
But, there is more history~ (and it's not even a crappy flashback~)
I'll probably not update tomorrow since I've got a cosplay meeting. But, I'm so happy that I'm starting to gather a following!
Songs-
'Long Gone and Moved On' by the Script
'The Way Down' by White Tie Affair
'Please Don't Go' by Barcelona
You guys better listen to these. They're kickass songs.
Alfred collapsed down into a beaten brown couch the second they got in the apartment flat. "Let's just chill for an hour," he breathed. "But, we gotta get out again when it gets dark. Philly has awesome music at night; there are bands around every block."
"Whatever you vant," Ivan said calmly, seating himself in a leather recliner. He looked around the flat Alfred had. It was a bit messy and there was a thin layer of dust on everything, but he could tell that someone had cleaned it…at some point.
Alfred glanced over at the Russian from where he was sprawled out on the couch. "Hey, I'm gonna call Penny…" he said, stretching and getting up for the phone.
Ivan watched the America dialing in a number and start chatting happily with his state. He smirked at the way Alfred talked with his hands even though no one could ever see it on the other line. The American could be endearingly silly sometimes without even realizing.
Alfred stood, "Ah, yeah…lemme check…" he was saying. He walked into a back room to get his laptop.
It was starting to get to the Russian that he was leaving work undone at home. He wondered how his people were faring without him. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd left unexpectedly for a few weeks at a time. Sometimes during the winter, General Winter would steal him from his home for a month or two if Ivan had done something to anger him somehow. Though, usually he had a pretty good deal with the winter.
Ivan quietly wondered if he could borrow Alfred's laptop to check in on his nation.
The phone started beeping in Alfred's ear as Pennsylvania had started talking about her unemployment rate. "Ah…I'm really sorry, Penny. I've got another call; I'll call you back in a few…" Alfred said carefully.
"Dad! You always try and avoid talking once things get too political!" she protested.
Alfred ran a hand through his hair, "I'm really sorry, Penn," he apologized again. "I love you, bye…"
He hung up and answered the other call. "Hello?"
"Ah. America? May I speak to Russia?"
Alfred looked at the number, but he didn't recognize it. If they were looking for Russia, it was probably his boss. "Um…sure…who's this?" he asked. He waited for an answer, but it never came. So, he just walked back into the living room and handed the phone to a confused Russian.
"Da?"
"Ivan~ Mon ami~"
"Ah…" he looked over at Alfred who was standing over him still. Ivan hated talking on the phone in front of people. "Kakoй nota do tы hotetь?" he said as he walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind himself. Maybe Alfred would leave him if he thought it was his boss.
"Oh, do not be like zat, Ivan!" France moaned dramatically.
"What do you vant?" Ivan translated.
"Have you kissed him yet?" Francis said, giggling.
Ivan glared at the wall. "Amerika? Of course not," he scoffed.
"Vell, I vould suggest a quiet place, preferably with low lighting and a stone fountain, or a grassy place vith lot of ze stars visible. He loves ze stars…"
"Vhat is this?" Ivan said, confused and growing impatient.
"I am trying to help you to get back vith America~" Francis cooed.
"I did not ask for you to-" there was a beep on the other line.
"Hola~ Russia!"
"Spain?" Ivan deadpanned. "Vhat are you talking to me for? I thought that you hated me still…"
"Eh, we could be closer," Antonio admitted. "But, I want to help for the sake of America!"
"Same here," came another obnoxious voice.
"Prussia? Just how many people are on this line?" Ivan demanded.
"Just us three~" France answered calmly.
"Vhat is this?" the Russian said, leaning against the counter.
"He just toldja!" Gilbert said, frustrated. "We're gettin you to patch up your relationship with the capitalist!"
"I already made it clear that I do not vant-"
"As if we care what you want," Gilbert snapped. "You're still an asshole. We're tryin to help out Alfie!"
Ivan rolled his eyes. "His opinion on the matter is the same as mine. He moved on as vell. And, vhy does everyone always side vith him anyway?"
"Well…you did sort of start it…" Antonio chanced tentitively.
Ivan glared at the wall. Everyone always said that he started it. "Explain to me why you believe this?"
France twisted his cell phone in his hands. Ivan could still be temperamental about this sometimes. "Ivan, you cut him off from trade with you, yes? You shoved 'im away; he probably panicked. And, you tried to push your ideals onto all the countries around you… You know how Alfred is about freedom…"
"I did not directly invade anyone," Ivan said defensively.
"Yeah! But you sure did take over my government you sunnofabitch!" Gilbert snapped. "Ya pushed all your communist propaganda and blackmailed my people to put your guys in charge! Ya took over my police and military! It's your fault I'm not a country!"
"We are not talking about you Gilbert," Ivan said coldly. "And, America did his fair-share of damage to me!"
Alfred heard yelling in the kitchen and walked over to see who Ivan was talking with. He expected it to be his boss or something, so he didn't think he would be able to understand the argument- he thought it would be in Russian. But, Ivan was yelling in English… So he must be talking to another country- probably France since he was the only one that knew he was here. (Many countries conversed in English since most of them knew it)
Alfred pressed his ear to the door. Ivan was yelling about him?
"He terminated the Lend-Lease aid he'd sent me! He left me to fight vith Germany alone, then he never helped me rebuild like he did for the rest of Europe!" Ivan said, anger welling in his chest. "I had to raise my taxes and squeeze my people dry just to rebuild towns and government buildings; just to return my people to daily life!"
Ivan remembered the hurt and pain Alfred had caused him through that. America was lending millions out to the other countries to help them rebuild. He'd sent economic aid during the war to help the other countries fight too, and he'd helped Russia for awhile…but he broke it off so suddenly…he took it back.
It almost seemed like spite that he'd sent more money to Europe and completely stiffed the Soviet Union. Ivan had thought that he and Alfred would have been closer than America and Europe. Even with their different governments, they'd still been able to get along for the most part.
Then to just abandon Ivan in his time of need…it was cruel. And Ivan remembered hearing that Alfred was sending thirty-one billion to help Britain. Now that pissed him off. When had the roles of friend and enemy swapped? Did the past matter at all anymore? It had left Ivan poor, insulted, hurt, betrayed, and morbidly depressed.
Alfred slouched against the kitchen door. Ivan was still mad about that?
He just hadn't wanted to send the soviets money that could be used for communist expansion…
Throughout the early nineteen forties Alfred had tried so hard to convince himself that things between him and Ivan would be okay. Roosevelt was always so optimistic that they would be able to cooperate with the soviets, and Alfred had tried to pretend that things would work.
But, when Roosevelt had died and Truman took over, things hit a more dismal outlook. Alfred used the nuke against Japan to end the Pacific war, and things plunged straight down.
Truman had never been as optimistic as Roosevelt, but he also might have been a bit more realistic about the situation. But then, the situation heightened anyway.
Truman told Alfred to stop pretending. He told him that it was his responsibility to oppose the communist expansion now that Alfred was a superpower. Being the only one who had exposed his nuclear capability, he had to take on more responsibility now, no matter who the enemy was.
And Alfred hated it. He just wanted Ivan to stop before one of them got hurt.
The American slid down to the floor, his hair sticking to the wood and spiking up behind him. He could hear Ivan talking on the other line.
"I do not vant your help!-...-No!-...-You are a fool-...-That is one of the most stupid ideas I have ever heard-...-Please just do not speak-...-I wish I vould have removed all of your teeth along with your vocal cords-...-I am not trying this again-...-I didn't ask for help-…-When did I say that?-…-You be quiet-…-I am hanging up." There was a beep as the Russian ended the call. Only a few minutes had passed.
Alfred knew he should get up, but he couldn't do it. He didn't want Ivan to walk out of that door and see him sitting here so pitifully. He just wanted Ivan to forgive him and he wanted to forgive Ivan back.
He'd thought that he could use his actions instead of words. It was always so awkward to apologize aloud. So, he'd been as friendly and open as possible all week. He'd hoped it would just work itself out like things used to do with him and Ivan. They used to be so close…
Pride wouldn't allow him to apologize for anything he'd seen a logical reason to do in the first place. Ivan should be able to understand the reasoning that Alfred had used. Alfred's pride was telling him he shouldn't have to apologize.
Alfred needed more time. He was sure that Ivan would forget about the entire Cold War if enough time passed and they became friends again.
He couldn't let Ivan leave. Or at least…if he went, he wanted to be invited to come with him to Russia for awhile. But, he'd have to get closer to the Russian to get that kind of invitation.
But, he had to admit something to himself.
He was having fun.
He was enjoying the Russian's company.
For awhile there, it felt like they had never fought in the first place.
"Alfred? Vhat are you doing on the floor?" Ivan demanded. How long had the American sat there? How much did he hear?
Alfred put on his best wide grin. "I was waitin' for you to get off the phone, Ruski! Who were ya talkin' to? France?"
Ivan stared at him. Just how much did he hear? He was starting to worry. Alfred looked happy enough that he might've missed all that about the Lend-Lease Termination Ivan was bashing America with. But, Ivan knew well enough that Alfred could put on a convincing fake-smile. It almost broke his heart how many emotions Alfred could hide.
"Ah…Da. France called. How much did you overhear?"
Alfred shrugged. "Just somethin about someone bein an idiot and you hangin up."
Ivan searched the American's face, but Alfred didn't give anything away. "Here is the phone," Ivan said, passing it back to the American. "You vanted to call back one of your daughters, yes?"
"Ah! Thanks…" Alfred smiled. "I should probably call Illinois too since we were just in his home, and I didn't even say hi." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He felt kinda bad about that.
Alfred dialed the phone and chatted with his kids for half an hour while Ivan looked through Alfred's small collection of books. He had mostly just the most popular books of his people. "A Tale of Two Cities, The Lord of the Rings, To Kill a Mockingbird, some Agatha Christi, The Lion the witch and the Wardrobe series, Anne of Green Gables, the Twilight books, Black Beauty, Of Mice and Men, The Da Vinci Code, the Harry Potter series, and Charlotte's Web. A lot of the books seemed below an adult's reading level, Ivan noted. He didn't really have an interest in any of them.
Once he'd hung up the phone, Alfred set about finding a place to store Ivan's heart for awhile. He found an old Coca-Cola tin from the forties that he hadn't given to a pawn shop yet. He filled it with a mixture of Vaseline and water and let the heart sit in the bathroom, under the counter- for now.
Twenty minutes later, Alfred was racing back outside with a wallet in hand. Ivan followed after him a bit more calm. They took Alfred's car down Lombard St. and back into the city where he parked it in a bank parking lot outside Rittenhouse Square.
"Live bands will come out and play music in some of the parks at night," Alfred said, grinning as he walked.
Sure enough, there was a jazz band playing some Frank Sinatra classics. The American started elbowing Ivan's side. "Frank Sinatra!" he said excitedly. "Remember him?"
Ivan turned away, "Honestly, I am not that interested in your culture to know all of your music artists."
Alfred frowned. "But…I sang one of his songs at the Sixth World Festival of Youth and Students. Do you remember that?" he demanded. It had been one of those good moments during the fifties, when Alfred had seen Ivan and hadn't wanted to rip his throat out with his teeth. In fact, it had been fun.
Ivan frowned back. "Da, I remember you corrupting my girls," he growled. He remembered girls running around with their skirts cut over their knees and their ankles showing, running around and trying to have sex with the American visitors. Ivan felt a dark aura closing around him. "And then, you sang something about wanting to go into space."
"Yeah…" Alfred muttered. "Fly Me to the Moon."
Ivan calmed down a bit as the band played.
Alfred glanced over at him. Somehow, bringing that up felt a bit counterproductive. It had been a good time for America, but he didn't consider how Russia had handled the mixing of culture. The Soviet Union had tried so hard to block out the rest of the world. Having westerners in their land must have been shocking.
"You sounded better than this…" Ivan said quietly. "This man cannot sing…"
"I can't tell if you're trying to complement me or insult him," Alfred laughed. It was still nice to hear. "Let's find somewhere to sit…" he suggested.
They found a comfortable, shady spot under some trees and across from a large, round fountain. Alfred tried to make idle conversation, but Ivan wasn't biting any of his lines.
The Russian had almost fallen asleep when Alfred finally decided to speak up.
"Um…are you still mad?" he said cautiously.
"Vhat are you talking about?" Ivan wondered.
Alfred hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to have this conversation. It might end with him having to say something he didn't want to. But still, if he wanted to get anywhere... "…Um... Since I terminated the Lend-Lease Aid that I sent you in the forties. Are you still mad? I didn't think that-"
"Don't…" Ivan cut him off. Apparently Alfred had heard quite a bit when he'd been sitting outside the kitchen. Ivan didn't want to go down this road either, but if they were ever going to get over the past, someone would have to talk about it. "I vas never…I am not mad…anymore. It just hurt me more than anything," the Russian admitted.
Alfred leaned back against the tree and groaned. Ivan bit into this conversation choice of all the ones he'd offered? They were really going to do this? They were going to talk it out like adults? This was his worst nightmare. "I know, and I'm sorry if I put you in a bad financial situation…I just- I didn't want to give you money that I thought you would use to spread communism…"
Ivan looked at him. "That is not the only vay it hurt me you know?" he said coldly. "You gave me eleven-billion to fight Germany and then you just took it all away...!"
Alfred frowned and folded his arms over his chest. "It's not like I wanted you to get beat up, I just-"
"No! Alfred!" Ivan said, leaning forward. "You are such a tease! I thought that you vere trying to maintain our peace, but vhen you just pulled your money back…it vas like…you'd just given up on us." Ivan glared at the American for making him say such raw things.
Alfred looked back at him with wide blue eyes. "If I had given up, why would I keep coming back and trying to change you? Why would I have tried so hard to make agreements with you for antiballistic technology like the SALT treaties? I never wanted us to be enemies!" He was leaning forward too by now.
Ivan searched Alfred's face for lies. He was too good at lying. Ivan would never be able to sense it if he were. "So…you never completely gave up…?"
Alfred smiled sadly, his eyes soft. "Not for a day…"
"But…you still hated me," the Russian confirmed.
"With all of my heart," Alfred agreed, nodding. "I would've killed you if I coulda."
Ivan felt a grin tugging at his lips. He'd felt the exact same way. "And vhat about now?"
"Now?" Al's sad smile spread. "…We do what all friends do when trying to recover from a bad argument. We have awkward conversations and reminisce to ourselves about how wonderful things used to be."
"We are friends again?" Ivan said, quirking an eyebrow. He hadn't remembered agreeing to this.
Alfred leaned against the tree again. "Well. Yeah, I guess. I mean, you paid for my food and I'ma take care of your heart, so I guess we sort of are friends." He glanced over at Ivan's expression to make sure it was safe to continue. "Which is good," he sustained. "I could use more people that don't want to kill me…"
Ivan laughed, falling back against the bark of the tree. Alfred stared at him. It had been awhile since he'd gotten a genuine laugh from the Russian; a real, friendly laugh at something he'd said- and he'd said some funny things. Alfred smiled warmly.
"Is that vhy you have been trying to get me to stay?" Ivan said, still smiling softly. "You vere trying to fix our friendship?"
Alfred shrugged. "Well…not at first of course. At first, I was just tryin to get you better so you could get the hell out…but…I got back from the shuttle launch and you suddenly weren't a complete asshole. So…I decided that it would be beneficial for both of us to try and get along."
Ivan patted the American's shoulder. "Dat is good. Because I vas trying hard not to be an 'asshole' just so that you vould stop being so fucking annoying, and I might tolerate you easier."
Alfred pouted. "I'm not annoying."
"It is a unanimous opinion," Ivan insisted, smiling pleasantly.
Alfred ignored it. "So…how long are you going to stay…? I mean…if we're trying to be friends again…how long are you planning to stay?"
Ivan's grin faded. "I vill leave on Thursday morning directly after your 'movie night' that you insist on me attending. It has been fun, but I really should get home to my responsibilities. My boss vill eventually become suspicious and look for me."
Alfred sighed and watched the saxophone players fingers moving deftly over the buttons as he played. He wanted to just reach over and grab Ivan's sleeve and tell him that he shouldn't leave.
But, Ivan had a point. They were countries and they could only hide from that for a few days at a time.
Okay. Nobody point this out. Frank Sinatra's 'Fly Me to the Moon' didn't come out until 64 and the Youth and Students festival was in 57. But, I mean…come on. I had to use that song…it fits so much better.
Plus, I love that song. When I was little, my mom had a wind-up music box plane that played that song. I loved that thing so much; I'd steal it and take it to my room.
Next chapter is the movie night. I promise. I've got a lot planned for that one. If anybody has some suggestions of Japanese horror films, that would be appreciated.
Feedback is a beautiful thing. Review?