It was late in the night when the four reached the hospital. Arthur restrained from driving fast on the slick roads, though his heart urged him to floor it all the way to Francis. Still, this was why Francis had been hospitalized, due to some careless fucking asshole driving like he owned the place. Or at least that's what Arthur assumed.
Matthew and Alfred were silent most of the trip, quite the feat for the American whose mouth never remained shut for more than five minutes. They watched the roads, their minds drifting to their Papa and not focusing on their surroundings. They were wide awake, the lateness of the time and the lack of food in their stomachs had little effect over their anxious bodies.
Ivan, on the other hand, was having difficulty keeping his eyes open. His lids seemed heavy, his large body slumping and he tried his best to stay up. He also tried to stop from yawning, the atmosphere around him seemed too tense to break it with one. Maybe he could just doze off for a few minutes...
No. He couldn't. What if he were to suffer his usual nightmare? Alfred would know, and his brother and father would witness it too. He didn't want them to know. If they knew, they would press and push for information. He didn't want to tell them anything.
He especially didn't want to tell Alfred. He was pretty sure murder was something frowned upon in every country and even though America was very different they must follow the same belief in the wrongness of homicide. He didn't want Alfred to be afraid of him, he was the only one that wasn't. Didn't want him to hate him, they were making such great promises.
He didn't want to lose him.
Ivan had never felt so attached to another human being other than his sisters. Was he just using Alfred to replace them while he stayed in the states? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Alfred was trustworthy, spoke to him and he wanted him. Because that's how things worked in America. You met someone, you fought and then you had intercourse. Or at least that's what he had gathered from Alfred's french father.
So, he forced his eyelids open. He tried to focus on the passing scenery, but everything was the same and blurred together in his drowsy vision. The siren of sleep was humming in his ears, tempting him, luring him until he could feel its warm embrace, wrapping aroun-
"Ivan. We're here." Violet eyes snapped open as Alfred's voice broke through the veil of tiredness. He looked up to see that Arthur was already out of the car, almost running to the hospital from the parking lot. Matthew was close behind him and Alfred was about to follow when he remembered the others presence. Ivan looked away to unbuckled his belt and open the door. Alfred had already rushed toward his family.
Ivan felt out of place, standing alone in the parking lot. Why was he here? He didn't belong here. This was an affair between Alfred and his family. Not him. Maybe he should wait in the car and try and take a quick nap. Still, curiosity gripped him and his legs began to carry him toward the sterile building. It was the same one he had gone too for his broken nose.
He tightened the scarf around him, finding comfort in the warm embrace before entering the hospital. The lobby housed few people, the place seemed to be calm at the moment. He took slow steps before realizing he didn't know where he was meant to go. The family was long gone and he was left behind. Alone. He sighed and was about to turn back to just stay in the car when a timid voice caught his attention.
"Er...uh... A-are you Ivan Braginsky?"
Ivan stiffened and turned around, head tilting in confusion as he peered at the owner of the voice. It was a woman, a nurse, sitting behind the desk with a nervous smile on her face. His own twisted smile twitched at his lips as he nodded, padding up to her.
"Da, that is my name. How do you know it?"
She shrank back slightly, not meeting his dark eyes. He didn't like the idea of a stranger knowing his name. Not at all.
"Er...Well, the boy who just came here...With his angry father? He said a tall boy would come in by that name...He...He told me to tell you what room they were in." She explained herself with difficulty, wringing her hands out nervously.
Ivan's eyes widened fractionally, body tensing. So, Alfred expected him to follow, made sure he'd be able too. Even if he was no part of this... Ivan smile grew slightly and he ignored how the woman shivered.
"Da, what room?"
"uh...room 214"
Ivan left her quickly, walking with brisk strides and scanning the doors. He knew the 200s were on the second floor and quickly found the stairs. He didn't care for elevators, he found them small and annoying. What if the box were to fall while inside? Surely it was an invention for lazy Americans who couldn't surmise the effort to climb a few flights of stairs.
On the second floor he scanned the rooms, looking for the one that would house Alfred. Finally, he found it, the window facing the hallway showing him the family huddled around the bed. He hesitated. Maybe he should just wait outside... Maybe he wasn't meant to intrude. He didn't know what he was suppose to do. He was never very comfortable with love scenes of this sort.
Ivan had only ever been close to his sisters, no one else. Not his mother, who died giving birth to little Natalia, and never his father. He had created a thick barrier between him and others. Other people only brought pain and misery. It was his last shield and he preferred to keep it in tact. But...Alfred was weaseling his way through...and Ivan was surprised to find out he didn't mind. Alfred was different. He was annoying, hot headed and acted like a moron (though he wasn't stupid). Yet, he was lively, vibrant and happy. He was bright and colorful, so different from the dull gray of his life.
He wanted some of that warmth, he hated the cold. He had never realized how lonely he truly was, not until he had given up his scarf to Alfred. He had never felt so vulnerable, but he didn't regret it. He trusted Alfred, and that trust was rewarded. Alfred... Alfred was different than others. So far he had yet to cause him true suffering.
Violet eyes caught blue as Alfred peered behind his shoulder. He nodded in acknowledgment before turning back. Ivan took it as a sign he was welcomed to come in. He opened the door and stepped inside.
Matthew had his face pressed into wavy blond hair, body trembling slightly. Alfred stood next to him, a hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder while the other touched his Papa's arm. Arthur, much to Ivan's curiosity, was not touching his husband. Instead, his hands gripped the bar on the side of the bed tightly, his knuckles a strained white. His mouth was set in a straight line and his emerald eyes were dark with emotion he was determined to keep within him.
Ivan didn't like that. If he loved Alfred's french father then shouldn't he be crying, holding him or doing something? Why was he so angry all the time? He yelled constantly at his husband and at Alfred. He had never heard him say one nice thing to either of them. He didn't like it.
What if Alfred's British father was like his own? Father had been only cold and distant at first, after the death of Mother. But then he started to become angry. Started to drink more. Started to hurt him and his sister. Never Natalia, the two had made sure of that. Then..Then it got worse as Katyusha matured and she started to look more and more like Mother had... No. He needed to stop. He couldn't remember this now, not in front of Alfred and his family.
Still, he did not like Arthur. He was too cold toward his family, his loving family. He did not like it one bit. If he...If he was hurting Alfred... Well, then he couldn't be accounted for his actions.
Francis was sleeping, oblivious to his families presence. He did not look peaceful in his sleep. His eyebrows tilted as if in pain, mouth parted slightly. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, a few cuts on his cheek. His right arm was bandaged thickly and his right leg was in a hard white cast. There were deep blackish bruises on his left arm from what he could tell, though Matthew was obscuring his view.
As if on cue Matthew lifted his head up, wiping at his tear-stained face with his sleeve and sniffling. Alfred gave him a hug, whispering something into his ear. Matthew nodded and pulled away from the embrace. Arthur looked at them and didn't say anything. The twins gave him a sad smile before moving to leave the room. Ivan blinked in confusion as Alfred tugged at his coat sleeve, alerting him to come with them.
He obeyed, closing the door behind him and looking at the sad twins curiously.
"Why have we left?" he asked. Didn't they want to stay with their hurt father?
"Because, Dad needs his alone time with Papa." Matthew mumbled quietly, eyes trained on the floor. Ivan stared at him perplexed, wanting to know more. The twins didn't seem to want to disclose any information though.
"Lets go find a vending machine. I'm hungry." Alfred interrupted, wanting to leave their Dad alone. Matthew nodded and the pair began walking down the hall. Ivan looked back toward the room, finding the curtains drawn and frowned. He wondered what Arthur was planning to do that he needed such secrecy. He turned away to follow the fading teens, his questions left unanswered.
Arthur drew the curtains with trembling hands. He turned back around, looking at Francis lying unconscious on his bed. He hurried back over and hesitated when he reached the bed. He was never good at displaying emotions and he wasn't sure what to do.
"Dammit frog..." he whispered in a cracked voice as he leaned his head down. Wet drops fell onto the bed sheets near the others hand. He had the sudden urge to hold that hand. With shaky fingers he grabbed it, lacing his fingers with the others cold ones. Cold, so different from the warmth that usually seeped from the Frenchman.
Arthur brought the hand up and pressed a soft chaste kiss on the smooth skin. He felt almost like the knight in a fairy tale, the ones he used to spin out for the twins when they were little. Francis was like sleeping beauty, trapped in a curse and could only be saved through a kiss. His sad lips quirked slightly upward at the thought of Francis as the princess, with his stubble. The tears flowing down his face didn't match the smile.
Maybe... Maybe if he kissed him he would wake up and be ok. Maybe this was all some long twisted fairy tale... The other was a frog, and a frog needed to be kissed in order to become a prince. The blond leaned down and pressed his lips to the others. Nothing.
He pulled away with shaky breath, feeling stupid for believing such a fanciful thing. Francis was probably sleeping off all the medication he had been given. Kissing wouldn't wake him up.
He knew Francis was alright. The nurse had assured him. Still, he needed to hear the others voice, the smooth accented music that flowed from the others lips when he spoke. He needed to hear it. Fuck it. He was alone. He didn't care how bloody stupid and pathetic he looked.
He climbed onto the bed, laying on top of Francis' body with his face snuggling into the others neck. A hand fisted the medical gown the Frenchman was wearing, and his eyes squeezed shut as more tears wanted to come out.
"You... You promised you would annoy me forever. You can't just get out of it." Arthur hissed, ignoring how his voice trembled as he spoke.
Still, nothing.
He felt himself start to get desperate. Just a few whispered words. That's all he needed. Just a few.
"Francis...please wake up." he murmured pathetically, pleadingly. Thank God no one was here to see him. He kissed the others neck but still there was nothing.
"Say something. Anything. Please." he continued, sliding closer to the others face. "Make fun of my eyebrows. Call me stiff. Mock my cooking. Anything." He pressed his forehead against the others, begging the other to come back to him.
"Please...I-I...I love you" he whispered almost inaudibly. He hated saying that. It was so embarrassing, made him feel so vulnerable. The only thing worse was saying it in that bloody language.
"Je t'aime" He tried at the thought, their lips almost touching as he said it quietly. He kissed the other, willing him, pleading with him to kiss back. To wrap his arms around him, pull him close and kiss him deeply. To have to the other hand worm its way to his pants and start molesting him like always. Hell, he'd let him. He just needed Francis to wake up.
He kissed him more desperately, trying to get some sort of reaction. Nothing. He pulled away for breath, letting out a choked sob. He pressed his face into the others shoulder, breathing in his scent as his shoulders shook. Why wouldn't he wake up? Why was he always so difficult? Damn it all!
"...Pourquoi...pleurez-vous?" (Why are you crying?) A voice croaked and Arthur stiffened, lifting his head up quickly. Blue slits were visible between heavy eyelids. The Brit stared at him, stared at him as his mouth transformed into a happy smile.
"You're ok..." he whispered, relief flooding him.
"Oui..." Francis responded weakly, head lifting up with a wince in an attempt to initiate a kiss. Arthur quickly stopped him, laying him back down and kissing him deeply. He reveled in the weak kiss back. He was back, he was ok. Francis was still with him.
It scared him how much he loved the french bastard, how much he needed him.
"Francis, don't you ever do that again. If you do I swear I'll bloody kill you." Arthur threatened though his eyes only showed relief. Francis smiled at him and nodded before his blue eyes scanned the room.
"Ou sont mes fils?" (Where are my sons?) he asked. As much as he adored his husband his paternal instincts kicked in along with the need to see his precious boys.
"They left me alone with you..." Arthur responded, pressing another kiss to the French lips and feeling the others hands wrap around his waist loosely, weakly. "I'll call them...but..." His voice faltered and he looked into those beautiful blue pools that gazed at him fondly. "Can we stay like this a little longer?" he whispered, a light blush on his cheeks as he pressed his face into the others neck. Francis smiled, turning his head slightly in order to press a kiss to the others cheek.
"Bien sur." (Of course).
"Al...I think we're lost." Matthew said, looking around the white hallway that seemed to continue for forever and ever. They had been walking for ten minutes and the scenery around them had barely changed. They still hadn't found a vending machine and Matthew was started to regret not eating those pancakes he had made.
Alfred frowned, spinning around at the intersection they had reached. Eenie meenie miney moe... He pointed to the hallway on his left. "There. I'm positive that that's the right way."
Matthew rolled his eyes, that hallway looked the same as all the rest. He severely doubted Alfred had any idea where he was even if he had been in this hospital many times before. Plus, due to the lateness of the hour, there were few people in the hallways to ask for help.
"Alfred, I do not believe food will be found in that direction." Ivan spoke up for the first time. The twins looked at him and Alfred raised an eyebrow. Of course, Ivan just had to argue with him. Didn't he know the Hero was a master at navigation? He was just trying to starve him to death!
"And why do you think that?" he asked bitterly, blue eyes trying to stare down the taller male.
"Because the sign above states that vending machines are to be found in the other direction." Ivan explained easily, pointing to a sign hanging close to the ceiling. The twins both looked up and saw it, soon feeling quite stupid. Alfred especially so.
An adorable (in Ivan's eyes) blush bloomed on the American's cheeks, highlighting his blue eyes. His lips quirked downward into a pout and he glared angrily at the Russian. "Shut up! Its not our fault that your freakishly tall." He spat, turning away to stalk down the correct hallway. The commie just probably used his creepy powers to reorganize the entire hospital.
Ivan giggled at the blond's reaction, it was so amusing to ruffle the others feathers. Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother's behavior and quickly followed behind him. Ivan did also, letting out a silent yawn and wishing he could close his eyes for only a few moments.
Alfred's anger quickly dissipated when his eyes locked on the salvation to his current state of starvation. Food! His steps quickened until he stood in front of the glorious glowing machine. Now what to eat? There was such a variety to choose from.
Matthew was soon standing beside him, grimacing at the contents of the machine. He didn't much care for artificially flavored snack food. Unfortunately, it was his only option. With a sigh, he pushed past his still contemplating twin and chose to eat some Fritos.
Ivan looked at the vending machine curiously, not recognizing half of the names that resided within it. He wasn't that hungry so it didn't really matter. Though, he was interested on what Alfred would finally choose. The American seemed to be putting a lot of thought into this.
Finally, Alfred seemed to make up his mind. He dropped his quarters in the slot and pressed the two buttons. Ivan's violet watched the movement of one of the coils, the one holding the Cheese Curls. Though, for some reason, the coil stopped and the snack hung precariously from its perch.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Alfred growled, glaring at the damn bag. This always happened to him! And Matthew laughing at him was not helping! He kicked the side of the machine angrily, nothing happened. He gritted his teeth, he was starving! What a piece of crap.
"Mattie! Shut up and help me!" He yelled getting down in order to see if he could grab the snack. His hand weaved expertly through the slot but the cheesy goodness was just out of reach.
Ivan watched the whole fiasco in amusement, wondering if this happening was normal. Matthew was now giggling softly but made no move to help his twin. Only ate his Fritos with emphasized noises of pleasure that only made Alfred angrier. It was through this that Alfred's cell phone rang.
With an irritated noise Alfred straightened himself up and pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah?" There was a pause and Alfred seemed to stiffen, Matthew quieted and watched his brother curiously. Alfred hung up the phone and pushed it back into his pocket. "Papa's awake." he alerted, a smile appearing on his face.
Matthew's eyes widened and before Ivan could blink the pair were running down the hall, Alfred's quest for food forgotten. Ivan furrowed his brows in confusion. Alfred had seemed so focused on getting the snack but had dropped it immediately. He wondered what the other would say if he were able to retrieve the cheese snack for him. It couldn't hurt.
He looked toward the machine sitting innocently in front of him. He decided to do what Alfred did first. He kicked the side. Nothing. Kicked it harder. Nothing. The Russian frowned, seeing how this could frustrate someone easily. He probably could break the glass and get it...But that might mean getting blood on his hands. He shivered at the thought, taking a deep breath to calm himself. What if he shook the machine?
Gloved hands gripped the edge of the machine and pushed it forward before pulling it back, shacking it violently. Nothing. What if he broke the glass carefully, mindful of not getting hurt? For some reason the risk seemed small compared to the outcome of Alfred liking him more. He looked around for something to break the glass with, not wanting to endanger his hands.
Nothing in his surroundings seemed useful. He sighed, lifting up his foot, clad in a thick boot, and smashed it into the glass. Shards fell around him with a crash as he stepped away quickly. He looked at his hands, no scratches, no cuts, no blood. Everything was ok. He leaned forward, plucking out the American's selected snack and retraced his steps down the sterile walls, his smile back in place. Hopefully, Alfred will be happy.
Arthur hung up his cell, putting it back in his pocket and looked down at the Frenchman. For some reason Francis was now frowning at him.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"I've just realized I'm going to die from sexual denial." He murmured sadly. "I can't instigate anything in my current state and you are too stiff to start anything. How I'm going to suffer." He continued dramatically, his eyes the saddest blue as he looked up at his husband.
Arthur reddened and smacked the others arm angrily (but not as hard as normal). "You pervert. Focus on getting better. Not the next time we can shag!"
The door was thrown open as Matthew and Alfred pushed themselves in. The couple looked over at their sons surprise. In moments, Francis had two teenagers (taller than him mind you) practically on him. Matthew was hugging him tightly, murmuring things to himself while Alfred was speaking excitedly and in his face. Thankfully, Arthur succeeded in pulling the two away and allowing the patient room to breath.
Francis let out a warm laugh, looking up at his two boys who seemed so relieved. He had to constantly insist that he was fine and there was nothing to worry about. The twins merely continued talking to him, usually at the same time, making it difficult for the Frenchman to understand what they were saying. All it did was remind him how much he loved them both.
The moment was interrupted by a timid knock. Four pairs of eyes turned to the door that slowly opened, revealing Ivan. Francis wondered why he was here and flashed a questioning look at his husband who responded with a gesture of 'I'll tell you later'.
Ivan didn't say anything, merely locking eyes with the American and shaking the snack bag in his hand. Blue eyes widened and quickly came toward him. "Ivan! You got them!" Alfred cried out happily, grabbing the bag from his gloved hands.
"Da." Ivan answered simply.
"How?"
"That is of little importance."
Alfred raised a brow skeptically before his eyes were attracted to something glittering in the light. He looked down at the others brown boots, spotting a clear shard embedded in the fabric.
"Is...Is that glass?" He asked incredulously. Ivan looked down also, pulling the shard out easily with a shrug. He spotted a trash can and threw it away, examining his boot for anymore glass.
Alfred stared at him and then at the orange bag in his hands. Had... Had Ivan actually broken the vending machine in order to get him his Cheese Curls? What a psycho! Then, why was he smiling? Alfred flushed slightly when he realized and tried to stop in vain. He was probably smiling because he was that hungry. Yeah. That was it. Not because Ivan had gone to all that trouble for him. Nope. Not at all.
"When can I leave this place?" Francis asked, turning to Arthur curiously and bringing the attention back to him. He didn't quite understand the significance of disgusting artificial snacks.
"The nurse said you can be discharged tomorrow." The Brit replied. Frankly, he'd rather have the frog come home now. Not because he didn't like the idea of sleeping by himself in that big bed of theirs, nor because he actually missed the infuriating Frenchman. Only because it would save him gas money. That was it.
The four left the hospital a little while later, climbing into the car and driving back home. Ivan was having an even harder time falling asleep, his eyelids begging him to succumb to his nightmares. The passing scenery did nothing to alleviate his urge, instead he turned his drooping violet eyes on the American sitting beside him.
Alfred had begun eating his Cheese Curls happily. Eyes closed in pleasure as he ate them slowly, savoring the taste on his tongue. Ivan watched intensely as the American sucked on his orangy fingers after every curl, his tongue darting out to lick the tips. Ivan quite like the image. Especially when Alfred had managed to get his entire index finger coated in the cheesy substance, forcing him to take the entire length into his mouth. He sucked on it slowly, pulling it out before pushing it back in until he was satisfied.
Ivan felt more awake now. Watching, transfixed, on the show before him. He licked his lips unconsciously and shifted in his seat slightly. His pants were starting to get uncomfortable. Alfred seemed to finally notice the burning stare and looked over at him. Of course, he misunderstood completely.
"Oh. Are you hungry? Do you want some?" He asked, offering up a curl. Ivan had gotten them for him so it only seemed fair. Ivan stared at the offered curl and bent his head down. He wrapped his lips around the morsel, relishing the feeling of Alfred's fingertips slipping into his mouth before pulling away slowly. Alfred stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks colored dark red with embarrassment.
"D-don't eat them like that! You're not getting anymore now." Alfred said hurriedly, turning away and eating another one. The hell was the others problem anyway? It was almost as if he had done that on purpose. Which was impossible. It wasn't as if Ivan liked him or anything.
Alfred stiffened. Blue eyes creeping to look over at the other... Or did he? Alfred quickly repressed the question, heartbeat quickening. No! That was impossible. Ugh that would be so gross! The commie definitely did not like him like that. And he definitely did not reciprocate those kinds of feelings. Oh ew!
He would never think of the freak in such a way. Ever.
Still, the thought lingered in the back of his mind no matter how hard he tried to stop it.
Voila! Hope it's good... Had some trouble writing this along with having WAY TOO MUCH HOMEWORK TO BE HEALTHY.
Anyway, OMFG 275 reviews makes me so happy. :D
You guys have no idea how proud you make me feel. I dont think I would of gotten this far without you. I mean I copied this entire story up to last chapter and put it in one word document. 161 pages. without authors note. Holy shit! Thats so amazing! So thank you so much for encouraging me to do this!
I love you guys forever and ever! And I'll write the 300th reviewer a oneshot with the pairing of their choice. Though, it might take me a while to do it.
One last thing, I posted a new story called Sentenced. Its a RusAme but more humorous. Dont worry, my focus is on this story and that ones going to update sporadically. But tell me what you think of it. I honestly got more reviews than I expected...
Okay this note is getting super long. Anyway, next chapter the Awesomness returns (where has he been lately?) and we delve into Ivan's nightmares...