Sorry about all the Iceland lately…He's just one of my favorites, and that's where the last summit of the Cold War was held where they kinda made up. And, Iceland maintains close relations to both America and Russia, so…ehem.
I'm sorry this took so long. I've had it for almost a week and haven't put it up. On the bright side, the story's racked in a lot of reviews because I've given it some time…
Songs
'Nobody's Home' by Pink Floyd (what's better than a song written about the Berlin Wall?)
'Take it or Leave it' by The Cinema
'Easy to Crash' by Cake
'Night and Day' by Sara Blasko
"So…how's our house been treating you in D.C.? Keeping up with the garden?" Will said coldly, jabbing his toe into the Yankee's ribs.
Alfred's eyes were open, but they were still swirling. He'd only just woke up from being knocked out. His lip was bleeding. "Where's Ice?" he demanded. The pale kid disappeared so easily…
Will shrugged, stepping inside and slamming the door in Al's face.
Alfred rolled over. He felt like being sick, but he had come this far to talk to someone, and he intended to do so. He got to his knees and pounded on the door. "I need help!" he shouted.
Will was obviously ignoring him.
Alfred groaned and beat his head into the door. If he didn't feel so close to throwing up, he could probably break it down with his bare hands.
Instead, he searched the yard for a large rock and bashed it into the window, successfully breaking the remaining glass and getting his hand inside to unlock the door. He shoved it open. "Will! For the good of this fucking country, get your ass out here!" he shouted.
There was a loud click and Alfred turned, staring down the barrel of a hunting rifle.
"Thought I told'ja to get off my property."
Alfred just laughed. He felt dizzy, sick, pissed off, and extremely impatient. He wasn't about to take this right now. His hand gripped the barrel of the gun and twisted the metal up. Just because he didn't want to throw his weight around didn't mean he's lost all strength.
…
…
Ivan was beginning to wonder why he'd come home. Belarus was still in her own country for some reason, but he didn't question it. He was only grateful.
But, now he remembered how horribly lonely it was in Russia. It was such a large country that he often felt like an island. It was nice to sit outside in the peaceful summer weather and just watch his people from his doorstep. But…it was often too quiet.
He loved to be around people. The silence suited him best, but he preferred seeing everyone cooperating and being friends. Even if he was never really included, it still warmed him just a bit.
But, after visiting Alfred and growing accustomed to the hectic, brash, confusing behavior of the American and his country, it all felt too calm.
1989- Berlin Wall
Ivan sat at his piano chair, head pasted to the dusty cover over the strings. He'd smashed bottles of liquor across the room, so the carpet was stained in several places. He'd been smoking almost pure nicotine.
An unsteady hand fiddled with the switch on an electric lamp. He'd never used electric lights and heating systems before. They were unnecessary luxuries. The room was illuminated in buttery orange light.
It was quiet.
His house was much too large to be this silent.
They'd left one by one. First Estonia, then the other Baltics followed, Gerogia, Ukraine, Belarus, all of them escaped, slamming doors behind them as they left the house.
Even China left. He'd thought he liked Ivan for the longest time. The 'Russian' was one of the 'cutest things he'd ever seen', until Yao had walked in on Ivan after the Chernobyl explosion in 86.
Ivan was throwing things, screaming curses in Russian, and beating his face into the walls. All he could think about was how to keep it a secret from America. He couldn't let Alfred hold this over him. He hadn't expected China would walk in. How could he have known he would?
Suddenly, Ivan wasn't 'cute' anymore.
But, it wasn't like he ever was. Yao must have known this. He'd always been a bit nervous around Ivan, and he'd never really wanted his company, but he liked to pretend that Ivan was who he pretended to be. Yao had never really understood who he was dealing with…
Now, they were all crawling away. They were breaking the walls and climbing over to the west.
Ivan didn't want to go watch. He knew he should be happy that his poverty could start ending now, but it still felt horribly lonely and it seemed like he'd failed. He was trying to become strong, as was always promised to him. But, it was crumbling.
The Soviet sat up, dizzy eyes gazing across his bedroom. A red telephone was plugged into a small generator, sitting on his bedside table. It was supposed to be a way to help prevent a nuking before it happened. America had told him to call if he ever needed to talk it out before doing anything rash.
It was comforting to know that Alfred was finally being mature about it all. But, it still hurt to fall like this. East Berlin was clearing out, the West Germans were pulling their friends over the wall and helping them break it down.
Ivan reached for his liquor, taking a heavy gulp. It didn't taste as good as vodka… But, tonight didn't feel like the sort of night to treat himself to his favorite drink.
He just kept staring at that red phone. Now that the wall was gone, would Alfred even pick up? It wasn't like he was a threat anymore...and he wouldn't want to talk to him just for leisure...
Why the hell did he even want to talk to America anyway? - Now of all times?
He just wanted to set things straight.
He wanted the American to know that he didn't do any of this because he was lonely. Half of Europe seemed to think that was the case. Ivan had no reason to worry with stupid emotions like 'loneliness'. He did it because he wanted everyone to be equal. He wanted to get back everything he'd given fighting Germany in the First World War. He wanted his communism to fix the world…to fix his world...
But…bolshevists were different from communists…and things somehow went wrong.
As they always seem to.
…
…
Will dropped the gun, glaring dark daggers into Alfred. He hated being so weak as a human…
Alfred just put on a pale smile and walked into the living room, kicking his shoes off and putting his feet up on the coffee table, making himself utterly at home- as he did everywhere.
"Why the hell are you here?" Will demanded. He wanted to throw a brick at the blonde's head. Maybe he'd get the point and go away.
"I need advice," Alfred said honestly, looking up at his double who had his arms folded firmly over his chest.
The southerner was in a plaid shirt and some cargo shorts. The two looked practically identical besides minor differences like hair color and the way they carried themselves.
Will considered going to his farming shed and putting his soil tiller to good use. "Hm?" he mocked. "You're a big grown-up country now, you don't need my help."
"Grown up?" Alfred demanded. He pushed his hair back and cleared his throat. "Do I look grown up?"
"You're taller than I remember," Will said coldly, summing up his double. They didn't look so much alike anymore. Alfred had grown a few years while Will was forever suspended as that young teenager he'd been before the split. Alfred was almost twenty now and a few inches taller.
Will glared at him. "But, I guess you grew a bit by stabbing me in the back and killing off all your enemies."
"Don't be so cold," Alfred muttered. "I never wanted us to split…there were times over the last century that I could've used your support…"
Will just had his arms folded over his chest. Alfred had never stopped to think about how he grew stronger when his country got more powerful…and adversely weaker as well…
"Do…do you have anything to eat?" Alfred wondered. His head was spinning. He hadn't eaten for a few days besides little pieces of toast or eggs…
Will stared at him incredulously. "You seriously trust anything I'd feed you? It's like you don't see the flaws in your own logic…"
Alfred just rolled his eyes. "As if you'd try and poison me," he muttered.
Will sighed. He silently cursed his true southern roots. It went against the hospitality code to just turn away a guest- especially one that you were once so close to. "Damnit…fine. I was about to have lunch anyway. Fucking Yankee…" he grumbled.
…
Ivan got up from his couch and decided it was time to get back to work. He had current events to keep up with and documents to go over with his boss. He walked into his office and started sorting through the papers on his desk.
His eyes skimmed over the titles of newspapers and notes from his boss. His hand paused…
"AMERICA, ONCE AGAIN, CONSIDERS RUSSIA AN EQUAL PARTNER"
Ivan wasn't sure what to make of that. He slid the newspaper free of the stack and sat in his chair. He reached for his reading glasses on the table.
The article just talked about the U.S. and Russian Federation's political relations. It covered the START-1 treaty's expiration date and the work their bosses were doing to prolong the agreement. It talked about the Russian's contract with Iraq to sell weapons to them and how that threatened America. It emphasized the necessity of both countries to come to agreements on arms limitations.
Ivan smirked in seeing that the Americans considered him to be among the next in line to be a superpower, behind China of course.
"They're really trying…" a deep voice spoke in Russian.
"Hm?" Ivan glanced up, taking his glasses off. His door was cracked open and Gorbachev was standing in it with his hands in his pockets. Ivan nodded for him to sit.
The aging politician took a seat and folded his hands in his lap. His head was balding and he wore glasses and a dark suit. "The Americans, I meant," he clarified, still speaking Russian. "Those capitalists never change."
Ivan smirked. "Well, we are a bit capitalist ourselves, are we not?"
Mikhail just smiled. "We are a lot of things now. We have the U.S. and NATO to thank for that." Ivan's expression soured at the mention of NATO. "They're really trying to pull back," Gorbachev assured him.
"Bullshit…" Ivan muttered. "The Bush administration spread their defenses to five more countries…it's like they're setting up to take us down…"
The politician sat back in his chair. "Firstly, you know Alfred better than most. Do you really think he's trying to kill you? Secondly, we have to trust sometimes…we're working to get them to agree to our terms as well and pull their weapons out of the countries closest to us, but these things take time. Thirdly, it's not like anyone wants to go to war with anyone. We'll do everything in our power to prevent that."
Ivan just grunted. He knew that Alfred was a bit more mature than trying to egg something on without reason, but he was still just a kid compared to the rest. He kept nosing his way into everyone else's affairs. And one day, that would get him killed. He just needed to worry about defending himself from the people who actually wanted to attack him, instead of spreading NATO…
"The west is in trouble, Ivan. We might be encircled now by our satellite countries under the United States and NATO's inner fold, but we're on extremely good terms with China. I believe over the next few years, we should consider our interests in safe hands. Our economies are flourishing."
"Are you saying that we're going directly against the west?" Ivan said innocently. He really…really didn't want to go against Alfred again…he probably couldn't handle such a thing a second time.
The politician leaned forward. "No, of course not. It's as I said. Nobody wants to go to war with anyone. If anything, we can help them get back on their feet. Though, a shift in power would be a lovely thing, we should just worry about our own standing and try to maintain the peace."
Ivan laughed through his nose. "That's always been the goal. But…I doubt we'll ever reach it."
Gorbachev just shrugged and stood, leaning over the desk to pat Ivan's shoulder. "Go through this paperwork. You've been gone for a week too long," he smiled warmly and turned to leave.
Ivan sat back and rubbed his temples. Being a country was often stressful. The friends he chose affected his entire population and the world. Anytime he got into a fight, people's lives were at stake. It was…a lot of pressure.
But, he was also human. He often had a choice. He could remain close friends to Serbia and China as countries, but still work on improving his relations to Alfred.
Gorbachev was right. The west never changed. They would always be greedy, stuck up, bigots. But…they were also giving, protective, individualists. Each human life held immense value to them. America could never stand back and watch a country's leader killing their own people and do nothing about it. He'd use his own resources to protect his interests and other peoples' lives - even if it drove him into the ground.
So, Ivan respected Alfred. He hardly respected America, consider there wasn't much left of it to regard. But, Alfred was still the same.
The people of his country might not care about the past anymore, but it was something Ivan couldn't forget… He wanted it back. He wanted that warmth and a place to go where someone would sympathize or cry with him.
…
Russian-American Charter, 1799
Alfred folded his arms over his chest. Matthew had let him borrow a heavy fur coat, but his face was still freezing over. It hurt to move his lips. "Damn…Matt, I don't understand how you live up here…"
The Canadian just rolled his eyes. "I don't usually come this far north," he said calmly. "You're the one who wanted to meet him."
Alfred huffed, a little cloud of steam escaping his lips. "I'm part of America, aren't I?" he said hotly. "I've met all our other trade partners, I wanna meet him too. It's as simple as that."
"I didn't ask why, Alfred. I really don't care. You're the one freezing to death…do you need my coat?"
His offer was lost in the wind. Matthew was really too soft-spoken. It didn't help that they were standing in the middle of a blizzard on the peninsula Province of Wales- the middle of no-man's land. On a sunny day, you could see Provideniya, in Russia from across the strait.
The two countries wouldn't be sharing this part of land, even though it was where the continents were closest to meeting. They owned a bit further south were it was a few degrees warmer. They were just meeting here because it was the shortest trip for the Russian's boat.
"Oh! Oh, there! He's here!" Alfred cried excitedly, punching his brother's arm repeatedly before running off and tackling the stranger.
Matthew winced and rubbed his sore muscle. "One of these days he's gonna get us killed…and I'm not even a country yet…" he groaned.
Ivan toppled over, thoroughly startled. His Tsar had told him that he had a meeting with a potential trading partner today. They didn't tell him that this powerful young nation was only about fourteen or fifteen. Someone like this had defeated the British Empire? He was just a teenager…
The boy was warm…
"I'm Alfred!" he said, thrusting a hand forward and jumping up off the guest, gripping the tall man's hand and helping him up.
"Здравствуйте…" Ivan said cordially, bowing his head slightly.
Alfred quirked an eyebrow and turned his head. "Hey Mattie!" he shouted abruptly. Ivan didn't see anyone standing there… "What does zdrahstuiteh mean?" Matthew's shoulders dropped. Did Alfred think that was French or something?
Ivan just laughed lightly. This new country was amusing… "If you did not understand, you could ask me," he said calmly, patting the kid's head roughly. "I vas telling you 'hello'." Alfred cringed a bit. This guy was pushing on his head too hard…it kinda hurt. But, he wanted to be friends with him. So, an introduction was in order.
"I own the eastern seaboard of this country, and a bit past the mountains. George Washington is my current President. I won my independence from Great Britain and hope to claim the lands to the west of what I have now…um…what else," he tapped his chin. He'd been counting things off on his hands thus far, trying to remember all the points he was supposed to introduce himself with. "Let's go to Mattie's cabin, it's cold here…" he said instead.
…
Alfred kicked off his knee-high boots and shucked his coat off while Matthew lit a fire. Ivan looked around the place, gathering his bearings.
It was a small cabin; the walls were made of brick and wood, and were covered in furs for insulation. A large table was cut and unpolished in the middle of the one-room structure. There was a small cabinet with some jars of meat and jams. It was warm inside.
"So!" Alfred said, turning and putting his hands on his hips. "You wanna trade with us?"
Ivan just quirked an eyebrow. As if these kids had a choice… Still, the older one seemed to think he had everything under his control, so he might as well give him that satisfaction. "Да, I vould like that very much," he said, smiling brightly at Alfred.
The American just lifted himself up onto the table and kicked his feet back and forth, his baggy wool socks dangling loosely at his feet. "Well, you talk funny, but I suppose I can forgive it," he said with a grin. He held his hand out. "Partners?"
"Um…Al…you do realize that it'll be me who does the trading, right?" Mattie said hesitantly. He was promptly ignored. "Right?"
The Russian shook Alfred's hand and gave the most pleasant smile he could to the hyperactive kid. It was refreshing to meet someone so young that didn't immediately start trembling at the sight of him…
…
Ivan wasn't sure if the American was stupid, if he was that bad at reading the mood, or if he really believed in their 'friendship', but Alfred never ever shied away from Ivan. Even when the Russian's dark 'killing aura' was the strongest. Alfred was too thick to run away like the others.
And, Ivan appreciated it. Nobody likes being feared by everyone. It gets old. Everyone wants someone to genuinely understand them instead of being shallow and just running away. It's nice to have someone you can't scare away…
There was a sudden banging at the door. The handle jerked down and Iceland pushed in. His face was red and he braced himself against the doorframe. "Guð, ég hatur hlaupandi…" he panted.
Author note/disclaimer, IGNORE THE ELLUDED POLITICAL BELIEFS!
I'm American, so I'm totally used to putting out any of my opinions. I know that Mededev is the current president and Putin is leading in the next race, but I'm not trying to sway opinions.
I'm starting to like Obama I think. He's done a lot in Iraq to change how we're fighting. He's working hard to befriend the Russian Federation, get the economy in order, reduce horrible government overspending, and pay off our debt to China. Unfortunately, these things are going to take years to complete, and I'm afraid that the new president we get in 2012 will go back on a lot of the advances he's putting up just because they're not popular with the public…because Obama's not popular with the public…
As for my using Gorbachev. It's only a short little blib I'm including. I don't plan to use him again…
Did I mention I'm only 15? (as of a few days ago)
Yeah, I'm gonna run for president when I grow up. So, gotta keep informed. XD
Icelandic Translation-
Guð, ég hatur hlaupandi- God, I hate running.