A/N: Hey~ Sorry for my absence, but here's chapter five! Hope you all enjoy it. I'll work on the next chapter whenever I get the chance. Thanks for the reviews by the way, means a lot to know somebody likes to read my stories ^^/
Russia's reputation had suffered greatly due to its army's monstrous treatment of the German people in the final days of World War II. To spite being an ally, America had been gravely affected by the Russian expressions of cruelty bestowed upon their common enemy. A seed of caution had been planted in the belly of the United States and had quickly bloomed into fear as the Soviet Union threatened to stretch its grip to further reaches of the world.
Propaganda had immortalized the evils of Communism in Alfred's country.
No tales of Russian kindness slipped through and as a result, many American's were petrified. Of course, the US government had made no attempt to debunk such fears, It needed the terror and hatred of it's people to back up decisions during the birth of (presumably) World War III.
If prisoners had ever been set loose, Alfred was unaware of it. He had no reason to hope for medical treatment, food or sympathy. Not from these blood thirsty Reds. Alfred did not react as he was dropped to his new, stale bed.
His voicing of aches was at random - only able to occur when his reeling mind bobbed close to the surface of consciousness. Tensing of muscle, the clenching of his teeth and expressions of agony would become more frequent as he grew closer to waking.
As Ivan removed his prisoner's glasses, the American's head lulled towards him. Wheat-colored bangs attempted to follow the rims of Alfred's glasses as they were pulled away. He was young. Not extraordinary so, but... As Ivan's hands drifted away from his face, Alfred's lips parted and he murmured a soft show of gratitude.
"Thanks, mom..." His voice held no sarcasm; only delirium. Simply a memory; a habit.
While seated in the chair he kept his winter attire on minus the ushanka, it wasn't cold enough to need that upon his head so he'd set it aside on the windowsill.
The words which the other had mumbled in his unconscious slumber had confused the Russian to say in the least.
He'd pondered over the translation in his head again for the fifth time and had come to the conclusion that the other was probably dreaming... Any man who appreciated his mother was apparently a good man at heart, psh yeah right.
Ivan highly doubted the youth crumpled up in the bed before him to possess any bit of good, however the interrogation results would soon detect how much good or bad the other had. An hour passed by before any signs of shifting and groaning were made obvious, Ivan had been visited by some of his comrades during this time, they'd checked up to see if everything was alright and such, apparently it was.
He'd informed them to have a medic on standby if need be. Though if the other showed any signs of resentment or stubbornness; he informed them that regardless of the injuries to come that he wouldn't be treated.
Ivan remained silent in the corner of the room while the other came to his senses, rather slowly. The first and expected signs of the wakening was a couple of curse words followed by painful gasps and a hand going up to check and see if their head was still intact, which it was, it just needed a few stitches in one place perhaps. He figured the five minutes of silence was enough time for the other to gather his thoughts before he cleared his throat making his presence known to the young American prisoner of war. '
'Your sleep was peaceful da?'' he asked the other almost with an innocent tone of voice followed by his usual childish smile, as if it was a normal thing to say to someone he'd just whacked over the head with a rather dangerous object and expected a happy response.
He still had the others glasses not so far away from him, perhaps he'd give them back if the other behaved and answered a few things.
Perhaps. Alfred's return to the conscious world would not be gradual. Instead, his senses would be abruptly flooded with pain as his newly-alert mind tried to warn him that his body was damaged.
"-Auh!" He gripped his shoulder fiercely while curling to his side.
He found that his cry only served to hurt him further as his head exploded with agony.
At first, he was too overwhelmed by his afflictions to notice the severity of his outer predicament. When his eyes finally unclenched, they numbly took in their surroundings before settling on Ivan's cold, purple gaze. He couldn't help but feel as though he was being mocked by those eyes.
His Russian captor seemed...fascinated, but not in a way that complimented any of Alfred's traits. He was fascinated in the way a child is while watching monkeys at the zoo. Ivan's gaze was full of a cheery scrutiny. It was...terrible. To spite his nausea, dizziness, and pain, Alfred sat up. He refused to writhe in front of this man - he would show as little weakness as possible. Internally, his mind yelled for his left hand to stop cradling his right shoulder. Unfortunately, it refused to obey. It argued back that letting go would allow his entire arm to fall off. The American grit his teeth while slowly dropped his legs over the edge of the bed.
Alfred's eyes regarded the other with contempt. Without answering, he drew his gaze towards the single window, trying to decipher the time of day. Dark. He'd missed at least three call-ins by now. His comrades would know something had happened. Instructions had been to pull out if all parties did not call in during designated times. Russian officers would find the rooms of Alfred's friends to be vacant. There was a small bit of relief that was quickly overcome with devastating sorrow.
He'd been abandoned. Something wet slithered down the side of his face and he reached instinctively to touch the wound on his temple, His fingers drew away with blood. He glared at the crimson colour for a moment before redirecting his gaze towards Ivan. His eyes seemed bright; almost luminescent. His lips pursed. Silence. If only looks could kill. The trickle of blood down the others temple made Ivan stare all the more, like a child would when amused with a new toy or pet. He noted the fact that the other was highly out of sorts because of the excruciating pain but what he found amusing was the fact that the other was trying their utmost not to show any signs whatsoever of discomfort, and to be fair he was doing a pretty good job of it.
''Not very talkative at this hour, nyet?'' He queried innocently watching for any signs of change in the others facial expression.
''That's fine, of course we have many days to talk, da? '' he continued before resting his gaze once more on the injured spot on the others head.
''You'd like to be relived of one pain at a time, if you talk I'll call medic to tend to your wounds on that condition alone, da?''
He wasn't expecting the other to start singing just yet, however. He knew the pain combined with the hatred, combined with the dreary setting were all conditions which caused one not to want to talk or even comply with anything at all.
Though he figured he'd try a different approach as more minutes ticked by and the other still remained silent the Russian got to his feet, the chair legs screeching across the tiles as he did so. Plucking up the others glasses from their resting place he dangled them over the others head.
''I wonder how necessary these things are for you? Would you like them back?'' Smiling down at the other in an eerily kind manner he kept the glasses at a very safe distance from the others grasp all the while, it was almost as if he was playing with a kitten who wanted to paw at a dangling mouse toy.
As Ivan scooted his chair across the room, he finally was gifted with a reaction. His prisoner stood. It hadn't been a causal change of position. It had been swift and defiant. He'd even balled his left fist at his side. Of course, it didn't take long for the American's head to spin with disapproval. It delivered vertigo and a greater amount of nausea then had been present before. Even so, he would not lower back to the edge of the bed. He refused to collapse.
Yes. His glasses were necessary. He gave himself away by allowing his eyes to spark with interest as the other lifted them above his head. Without his glasses, Alfred was trapped in an unfamiliar, blurry world. While Ivan smiled down as if enjoying a game, Alfred focussed upwards with a great deal of determination. He swiped with his good arm, fingers just brushing underneath what he desired. Abruptly after failing, stiffened; he suddenly very aware of his behaviour and very angry at himself for letting it slip.
In spite of his situation, he forced the edges of his mouth to curve into a grin. If intimidation was the game they were going to play, he wasn't going to give an inch. 'I'm stronger then this. I will not be your victim.' His strong hand hardened into a fist as it fell to his side to gain momentum. He threw the best punch he could muster. Regardless of the consequences to come, it would feel good to give a Russki the works. Surely he could knock this brute a good one - even if he was half the man's size! Right?
The amethyst eyed male hadn't expected the prisoner to lash out so suddenly given the state he was in he'd assumed that the other would've been more careful with trying such things.
The fist connected with the lower end of his jaw due to their height difference and it did hurt, heck it hurt a whole load. It caused him to step back a few paces growling at the other.
It would probably leave a mark, but he didn't care.
After a few moments of silence he returned to his smiling self and approached the other once more holding out the spectacles at a closer distance.
''I knew you wanted them, da? It's a pity you had to act as you did. It's unfortunate but...I shall not give you second chance.'' With that said he crushed the pair of spectacles in his hand before the other and dropped the frames at his feet with a gentle clatter off the floor.
''You'll think twice about attacking da? Or I will deliver very harsh punishments...''
One of the medics peeped their heads in threw the viewing window of the cell door and spoke something in Russian to Ivan, but he shook his head and waved them off. He was not going to grant the other medical assistance for today either due to the little stunt he pulled.
''Now you will talk da? Or will I have to punish? Choice is yours...American.'' he stated in quite an unnatural happy tone as he stalked back over to his chair and plopped down onto it, staring over at the other who was now partially at a disadvantage due to the lack of clear vision.
''By the way, longer you take to speak or answer my questions the quicker you loose sight in one eye, you understand my meaning da?''
Folding his arms he leant back in the chair as if it were an arm chair by the fire in his home and waited for the other to either do something further or decide to at least spare some time for discussion.
Time ticked by and it was starting to get later in the night but the Russian was adamant in getting at least some talk from the other before he retired from his duty for the day.