America happily hummed to himself as he placed 10 grilled cheese sandwiches on a large pan. As the first side of the sandwiches began to crisp, he opened a large can of tomato soup and dumped it in a pot.
After everything had finished cooking, he took 2 sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup and put them on a tray, before picking it up and walking out of the kitchen.
America quietly entered Belarus' room and walked to the side of the bed.
"Hey sleepy head, it's time to get up. I made you food."
Belarus slowly stirred but remained asleep. America sighed and set the tray down on top of her dresser, before crouching down next to her and poking her cheek.
"Wake up," he said a little louder.
Belarus still didn't wake up, but instead grabbed ahold of his hand and held it to her lips.
"Big brother, leave that old man... stay with me," she requested languidly as she applied tender kisses to his knuckles.
America cringed and yanked his hand away, sending Belarus into a panic as she desperately reached out for the missing hand. "Big brother? D-Don't leave me!"
"Big brother!!" She screamed as she jolted upright, tears pricking her eyes as she looked around the room.
When she finally noticed America standing in front of her, hand clutched to his chest, she quickly wiped away the tears and looked away from him. "Why are you in my room?"
America stopped holding his hand and went over to grab the tray, before turning around and bringing it to her. "I made lunch."
Belarus looked down at her lap as America placed the tray on it, her empty stomach instantly beginning to growl.
She then picked up a slice of grilled cheese and was about to take a bite, but abruptly stopped when it was right in front of her mouth.
"Wait did you say lunch?" She asked as she turned to look at the alarm clock, which showed it was already 12:43 PM.
"Uh yeah, I would've woken you up sooner but figured you probably needed the sleep. What did you even do anyway? When I came home you were passed out and covered in dirt."
Belarus looked back down at her sandwich as her eye began twitching. "I was chasing a bird."
"Pfff, what?!" America chuckled as he failed to hold in the laugh. "Why?"
Belarus glowered at the sandwich as she firmly crushed it in her hand. "The annoying bastard took something from me. It took all day to get it back... and now it cost me half of another."
"Sorry to hear that, but if it makes you feel any better, I also didn't wake up until about half an hour ago," America empathized.
"Why?" Belarus asked.
"Japan and I stayed up all night buying a bunch of awesome games for the ps5 since it's coming out soon," he responded.
"Japan was here?" she asked as she took a bite of the grilled cheese.
He nodded to her. "Yeah, he left a while ago though. He doesn't like to stay long because he destroys my water bill then gets embarrassed."
"Oh," she said as she took another bite. As she ate more of the grilled cheese, America realized he had just been standing around in silence like an idiot, so he took his leave to go eat his own lunch.
Lithuania awoke and looked out of the window to the warped skyscrapers and flying cars of his new home. A couple days ago him and Tony had landed on Tony's home planet, where they then went to a large pod-shaped apartment building.
He has been completely helpless to whatever Tony wanted to do... but honestly... he's completely used to it since he lived with Russia for so long.
Yesterday Tony had given him the alien equivalent of a marriage registration form. He liked Tony, but he didn't like-like him and this was beginning to be a little much.
He wasn't particularly against getting away from Russia, but there were plenty of others he missed, like Belarus and the Baltics.
Maybe he could figure out a way back home.
(Later in the day)
Belarus silently observed America as he angrily tapped the buttons on his controller.
"Fucking Nameless King bitch ass motherfucker!" He ranted as he dropped the controller to the ground.
"What's the point of this game?" Belarus asked, hoping to get a good explanation for why he's being so obnoxiously loud.
America tipped his head back and covered his eyes with his palms. "I don't know! It's supposed to be satisfying to win, but it doesn't matter if I can't. Fucking. WIN!!"
Belarus looked up at the "You Died" screen before looking back down at the irate American. "Can I try?"
America removed his hands from his eyes and looked at her in both fear and intrigue. "You sure? You're fighting the hardest boss with no idea how to play the game."
"Just hand me the controller," she demanded.
America eventually agreed and cautiously gave her the controller, before sitting on the couch next to her and giving her a rundown of the controls.
Belarus unpaused the game and began playing, doing surprisingly well before dying. She then began again, getting even farther than America did.
"Wow, you're actually... really good at this," America complimented, inadvertently distracting her and getting her killed again.
"Yeah, now shut the hell up and let me play," Belarus exclaimed as she respawned and started again.
Sadly America's distraction seemed to throw her off her game, because for the next 20 turns she was never quite able to get back to that one run. That was until she had an almost perfect run, only to die one hit from killing the boss.
"NO!!!" She screamed as she tried to throw the controller at the tv, only to be stopped by America grabbing her arm.
"Ok, maybe I should take over for now," he said as he slid the controller out of her hand.
Belarus yanked her arm away and reached for the controller. "I'm fine, now give it back! I need to murder that fucking cunt."
America held the controller above his head where she couldn't reach it, but she tried anyway and began climbing on him.
"Give me the controller!"
"No!" America refused as Belarus pushed her hand on his head to lift herself up. As her hand inched closer and closer to the controller, her body began to lower onto him, causing America to blush like mad as her chest came in contact with his face.
Right as America was going to be smothered, he quickly put an arm between the two and pushed her off, before using his foot to hold her in place on the other side of the couch.
"Look, how about we both give it a few tries, then let the other try? How does that sound?" America negotiated in hope she wouldn't climb on him again.
Belarus eventually stopped thrashing around and crossed her arms. "Fine."
America then sat up and began his turns, quickly burning through them and having to hand it off to Belarus. She too burned through her turns and reluctantly gave the controller back, becoming a vicious cycle that slowly drove both to insanity.
"FUUUUCK!!" America yelled as he died once again. Belarus snatched the controller from his hands and began again.
"It's not my fault you suck ass, I've only started playing today and I'm already better than— OH MY GOD!" Belarus screamed as she died.
She set the controller on the coffee table and slouched in defeat. "This is impossible! What are you supposed to do?! You can't parry, can barely dodge... even fire damage does jackshit."
Both nations laid on the couch, staring daggers at the "You Died" screen. America began rubbing his temple in annoyance.
"I wish Tony was here, he's great at video games. Where the hell is he anyway?!"
Belarus began playing with her hair in embarrassment. "I... may have given Tony the cat shit's address... and he may have flown off into outer space with him."
The pain in America's temple spread to the rest of his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an irritated sigh. "I'll... deal with that later. For now, I really need to blow off some steam."
America then stood and began walking away, before turning around to look back at Belarus. "You can join me if you want."
Belarus hesitated at first but eventually got up and followed him out of the living room. The two walked out of the house and across the backyard, coming to the shooting range.
America spun around and looked at Belarus. "Ok, so I got three options: we can shoot and throw stuff at a bunch of targets, follow that trail behind us and chill out at a nice relaxation area, or... if you want... we could have a sparring match."
Belarus' eyes widened as she instinctively clutched a knife under her dress. "That one, I want to do that one."
"Cool, well let me set up first," America said as he began jogging to the garage.
'Wat da hell are ya thinkin'? Don't ya remember wat she did to ya durin' da last world meetin'?'
'I do remember, that's why I want to test out how strong she is. Are you seriously telling me you aren't the littlest bit curious?'
'Ugh, fine. But don't start whinin' if ya get a knife in da face.'
'You're acting like I'm gonna lose,' America cockily joked as he removed his bomber jacket and tossed it on some equipment in the gym. He then turned around and jogged back to the training grounds.
After moving all the targets out of the way, America walked to one end and got into position. Belarus did the same and began arranging her knives.
As America limbered up, he asked Belarus, "you sure you're ok with this? I don't particularly enjoy punching ladies."
"Oh, but you're perfectly fine chucking them through walls?" she quipped.
"Hey, that was in self defense. You stabbed my hand, remember?"
"Yeah, and I'm about to do it again," she promised as she took two knives and held them up in a stance.
America got into his own stance and raised his fists in front of him. "Did I ever tell you I once fought Hungary?"
"Really?" Belarus asked in disbelief. For a person to challenge Hungary, they have to be incredibly bold... or incredibly stupid. Luckily America was both.
"Did you win?" She asked.
America shrugged as he widened his stance. "Course I did."
The two fell into silence for a moment, before Belarus' face contorted into a sinister grin. "I've wanted to do this for so long. You know how many headaches you've caused me over the years?"
"I'm sure it's a lot. Now since you're already venting your gamer rage into this, you might as well put all your years of pent up aggression into it too... gives me more of a challenge."
The two became silent once again, not daring to make a move. For a few minutes the two just stared at one another, trying to size up the other to form a plan of attack.
Belarus made the first move as she hurled a knife toward America's head. America's eyes widened as he craned his neck to the side, the knife whizzing by his head and narrowly missing by a couple centimeters.
Before he could even react a second knife flew by, nicking his cheek and ear. He shot his eyes up as she broke out into a run, pulling out another knife and flipping it upside down.
She first lunged forward and swung at his chest, forcing him to jump back. Unaware of his surroundings, he ended up stumbling back into the hedge walls. She then shot her knife at his chest, forcing him to quickly scramble out of the way, landing on his butt with a thud. For a trained fighter he was looking like a complete amateur right now.
Belarus swiped at him again, to which he rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. She quickly rushed him again, letting out a flurry of stabs and slices as America tried his hardest to dodge.
As the onslaught continued, America began searching for an opening, going on the offensive at the first opportunity. He flew a fist toward her face, but she anticipated it and ducked, before spinning around and stabbing him deep in the left thigh.
"Urgh!" He grunted as he instinctively kicked with his good leg, connecting with her torso and sending her flying to the other side of the training ground.
Belarus sat up and clutched her sides in pain, gasping for the oxygen that was kicked out of her. Meanwhile America was dealing with his own pain, wincing as he gripped the knife and ripped it out of his leg.
He then held the knife by the blade and looked to the hunched over Belarus, before chucking it at her. She removed her hands from her sides and jumped back, performing a backhand spring and landing safely away from where the knife stabbed.
"You're pretty agile," America complimented as he wiped the blood off his cheek with his thumb.
"And you've been stumbling around like a moron," she retorted as she picked up the knife from the ground.
"You caught me off guard, that's all. And trust me... you're not getting me like that again," he stated seriously as he got back in his stance.
Belarus accepted the challenge and ran at him once again, thrusting her knife at his neck. America kept calm and put his hand to her forearm, pushing the knife out of harm's way.
She quickly spun around and stabbed at his stomach, only to be stopped by America grabbing her wrist. She tried pulling out of his grip, but he wouldn't budge. With her free hand, she pulled out another knife and went for his stomach again.
The screech of metal rang in her ears, making her cringe. She searched for the origin of the noise, finding that America had blocked the knife with the side of his own Bowie knife.
As he kept a firm grip on one arm, the two had a knife duel with their free hands. Belarus spun her knife around and flicked America's, sending it twirling to the ground.
America cocked back and threw a punch, which she dodged as she dropped both knives and stepped to the side, latching onto the arm still holding her and pulling both of them to the ground.
She then put her legs against his torso and arched her hips, locking America in an armbar. As she leaned back more, America's face began to scrunch up in pain.
"Tap out or I break your arm," Belarus demanded. America just smirked as he tried to free himself. "You confident you can break it?"
She frowned before pulling the arm up and arching her back. America began to grimace as the muscles in his arm and shoulder became strained. As he struggled to break free, an audible pop could be heard, snapping him into action as he lifted up her entire body and threw her into the hedges.
He got to his feet and looked over at his arm, which was now limp with his shoulder joint poking out at an irregular angle. He grabbed his upper arm, pulling it up and groaning as it popped back into the socket.
As he inspected the hole she fell through, Belarus snuck up behind him and kicked him in the back of his good leg, sending him falling to his knees. Afterwards she climbed on his back and wrapped her legs around his neck, flipping backwards and launching him into another part of the hedges.
America hit his head off a branch and slumped to the ground, stars dancing in his vision.
'Wat da hell is goin' on?! You're gettin' yer ass kicked! Stop holdin' back n' fight!'
'I'm sorry, it's hard to fight girls.'
'This isn't a fight, it's a damn bloodbath!'
"Stop holding back," Belarus stated as she menacingly stood in front of him. "What?" America asked as he rubbed the pain out of his head.
"Don't patronize me! I'm related to Russia, I can tell you're not giving it your all," she yelled. She walked forward a little bit and picked up America's knife, before throwing it and impaling America's foot.
"Ahh! Dammit!" America cried as he clutched the hilt of his knife.
'I warned ya man, she gets off on hurtin' folk.'
'Yup,' America squeaked in pain as he ripped the knife out.
'Good, now stop wit da chivalry and fight back!'
America forced himself to his feet once again, his entire left leg searing in pain from the multiple knife wounds. Belarus bounded after him again, throwing two knives ahead of her as she drew closer.
America rolled to the side of the first one and did a backhand spring away from the other, his left leg almost giving out on the landing. Belarus reached him and threw a kick to his stomach, which he caught and lifted up, resulting in her falling backwards.
She quickly recovered and spun on the ground, kicking him in the side of his left leg and causing him to topple as well. America caught himself with his arm and flipped out of the way, only for Belarus to jump at him a second later.
Before Belarus could even react, a knee had connected with her sternum, followed by a devastating uppercut to her jaw that sent her flipping backwards.
America pulled his arm back and assumed a stance, only to stop as he noticed the blood on his knuckles. He looked back at where Belarus had landed, finding her upright and clutching her jaw.
America was overcome with guilt as he ran to her side. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you so hard."
He tried to help her up, but she responded by punching him in the nose. She got to her feet and gave him a death glare as she wiped the blood from her chin. "St-Stop being s-such a priss, I can handle it!" She heaved out.
America shook his head and reached out for her again, but she pushed him to the ground. "Don't try and help me, I'm not weak! Stop being so sensitive and fight!!"
She began kicking him over and over, but he just laid there and took it. He thought he could spar with her since she's strong, but he can't help but feel like he's beating up a helpless girl.
'Why won't he fight?! Does he think I'm so weak I'm not worth his time?' Belarus thought as she continued kicking. How could she make him fight her? What was different about the time at the world meeting?
Suddenly it hit her, causing her to completely forget about kicking America. She remembered that it was only after insulting. . . whatever his name was, did America get serious. So maybe if she insulted his brother again it would cause the same reaction.
Actually, since she knew much more about America personally, she might be able to take advantage of that.
"What a pathetic waste of a superpower... you may be strong, but you're a complete coward," she insulted as she crouched down next to him and poked his temple with a knife. "All those school shootings in your country? I bet if you saw one you'd run away. That's the kind of man you are, one that runs and hides from danger."
"That's not true," America angrily retorted. Belarus scoffed as she stood back up and paced around him. "Sure you're not, I'm also sure you're definitely not the type of person that would let your people down. You're the hero after all, you'd never break a promise, or let them die."
"Stop," America pleaded as his anger and confidence shriveled. Only growing weaker as the insults continued.
Belarus grinned in satisfaction as she walked back in front of him. It seemed like her plan was working, and now for the kicker.
"People avoid me because I'm scary, but this? Now I understand why England constantly bitches about how he can't stand to be around you... finding you was the biggest mistake he ever made."
America's sad expression fully dropped, his normal sky blue eyes once again swirling into a deep blue. Belarus smirked in victory, happily watching those dark blue eyes staring at her with pure hatred.
Within the blink of an eye, America had gotten to his feet and grabbed Belarus by her neck, pulling her to him to look her in the eyes. She smiled in return as she tried to pry his fingers off her neck. "There's the seriousness I was looking for."
America narrowed his eyes at her smirking face, "did you do that just to provoke me?"
"Da, of course," she responded.
America let out a dry laugh as he loosened his grip a little bit. "You're crazy, you know that?"
"So I've been told, now stop talking and start punching."
America rolled his eyes as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."
He then flung her high into the air and waited for her to fall back down, dealing a powerful gut punch that made her vomit, before blasting her above and out of the training ground.
Using his super strength, he pushed off the ground with his legs, easily clearing the tall hedges as he launched after Belarus.
Belarus landed on her back with a thud, clutching her throbbing stomach as she coughed up some grilled cheese and tomato soup... or maybe it was blood.
She suddenly spotted America above her, hurdling down at her rapidly. At the last second she rolled out of the way, America stomping the ground next to her and creating a large crater.
She quickly jumped to her feet and pulled out her final knife... the jagdkommando, as she stared at the cloud of dust where America was. Slowly his face emerged from the cloud, smiling widely at her as he walked toward them.
She threw the knife at his face, but he grabbed it out of the air, spun around, and threw it back at her twice as fast, stabbing deep into her right arm.
"Ah!" She screamed as she gripped the arm. Without a second to breathe, America threw a punch, which Belarus blocked with her left arm, the force pushing her back a few feet.
'Damn, I can't feel my arm,' Belarus thought as she shakily lifted it to the knife in her other arm and carefully pulled it out.
America threw another punch, this time being blocked by both of Belarus' arms. Both of them began to vibrate from the intensity of the impact... Belarus may have gotten in a little too over her head. While her whole body was hurting, America seemed to no longer feel any of his previous injuries.
As America began punching and kicking at her, she bounced and flipped all over the place to avoid the super-powered limbs. Just like America did, she searched for an opening in his attacks and capitalized on it, dealing a thunderous hook to his face that knocked off his glasses.
"Oops," America said as he reached down and picked up the glasses, taking a moment to clean off the dirt before sliding them back on his face.
After that brief moment of levity, America continued his assault, striking consecutive blows to her stomach and ribs. Belarus hunched over before turning around and putting his arm over her shoulder, judo flipping him hard onto the ground.
America let out a raspy cough as the air was knocked out of him. While he was temporarily incapacitated, Belarus laid on top of him, pinning down his arms and legs with her own.
"Are you done?" She asked, secretly pleading for this to finish before it got too violent. America refused and tried to lift his arms and legs, but Belarus' own super strength was keeping him in place.
With the little mobility he had, he wiggled up as much as he could, giving him enough range to headbutt her in the nose. She fell off of him and cupped her nose, which instantly began to leak blood all over her mouth.
America got up and grinned down at her. "You call me a coward, just to turn around and try to end the fight early? I didn't take you for a hypocrite."
He then reached down and grabbed her by the collar, lifting her up in front of him as he winded a fist back. "This fight's only just beginning."
As he began throwing his fist forward, Belarus used her knife to swipe a cut above one of his eyes. America's punch then landed on her chest, ejecting her from his grip and slamming her hard into the trunk of a large tree.
The cut began seeping blood into America's eye partially blinding him. As he tried wiping the blood away, Belarus used the tree to stagger to her feet once again.
She stumbled over to America's blind side and neared him, punching him square in the jaw. In retaliation, America swung back, missing by a mile due to the lack of depth perception.
With his arm still extended, Belarus slammed a fist into the side of his ribs, eliciting a choked gasp from America as he clutched his side. Now full of openings, America got pummeled with multiple punches, kicks, and slashes to his body.
For Belarus' final blow, she thrusted the knife at his jugular, planning to execute him. America shot open his one good eye and quickly reacted by turning to the side, still getting his neck cut but avoiding a fatal blow.
He took advantage of Belarus' temporary surprise and spun around her, wrapping his arms around her waist and suplexing her. He added to the combo with a kick-up, carrying her feet with him and curling forward, swinging her in the air again and powerbombing her into the dirt.
Belarus' world spun around her, darkness creeping in the corners of her eyes as she was on the verge of blacking out.
America picked her up by her hair and faced her toward him, smugly grinning as her hazy eyes could barely focus on him. "You see why I wanted to hold back? Because this happens. I don't like hurting people, especially not women... but you really pissed me off."
He then cocked back his arm, about to finish the fight. "It's been real fun sparring with you. It's been a long time since someone hurt me this much... but sadly this fight is over."
As his fist began moving forward, the world appeared to move in slow motion for Belarus. Can't he just punch her and get it over with? Why does there have to be this much suspense?
Belarus closed her eyes, waiting for the fight to end, but something forced her eyes open again. She couldn't give up yet, she has this one chance to fight back, and she couldn't afford to waste it.
Using all the energy she could muster, she gripped the handle of her knife and slowly began moving it up, unbeknownst to America. As his fist was about to collide with her face, he suddenly froze, a sharp pain shooting through his entire torso.
He let go of Belarus and stumbled back, looking down at his chest, finding the hilt of the jagdkommando sticking out of his sternum. He mumbled to himself in confusion, wondering how he could've missed that.
In his daze his legs gave out, sending him collapsing onto the ground. Slowly Belarus crawled her way over to and on America, once again pinning her arms and legs onto his, but this time holding down his neck as well.
"I-I w-win..." she labored out. Both nations were breathing heavy and close to passing out, but Belarus held herself firm until she heard those magic words.
"Yo-You win."
Belarus weakly smiled as she rolled off of him, laying down next to him on the ground. Both were dead silent, still trying to catch their breath.
After what felt like hours, Belarus finally spoke up. "You were still holding back, right?" America didn't remove his gaze from the afternoon sky, simply answering, "only a little."
Belarus grinned in satisfaction as she looked up at the sky as well. She could take some comfort in the fact she beat an almost full power superpower.
She weakly turned her head and looked over at him, noticing his eyes had returned to their original sky blue hue.
"What's with the eye thing?" She asked. America raised an eyebrow and turned to her. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, the eye thing. When you're serious your eyes get darker," she pointed out. America looked back at the sky and shrugged. "I didn't know they did that... though I'm not surprised, you're eyes have done that too."
"They have?" She lifted her head up and stared at him. America looked at her and chuckled at her intrigue. "Yeah, when I commented on that lingerie your eyes got all scary and dark purple."
Belarus laid her head back on the grass and looked up at the fluffy clouds. "So mine are linked to anger and yours come from seriousness? Weird."
America laughed and closed his eyes, feeling like he could drift off to sleep at any second. "You're not dying on me, right?" Belarus joked.
America smiled and opened his eyes again. "Nope, just tired."
Belarus felt the same, though almost getting knocked out probably contributed to that. "I didn't think this would calm me down so much. I completely forgot about the video game... we should do this more often."
America shook his head and wiped some drying blood off his eye. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, this got way more intense then I planned."
Belarus rolled over and looked at America with a serious expression. "I disagree, this is like therapy for me."
America laughed, thinking it was a joke, though her seriousness showed him otherwise. "Getting hurt is your therapy? If that's what you think then you need a real therapist."
"No, beating you up is my therapy," she grinned, not taking his eyes off him. America glanced at her and pouted, making her softly giggle.
"Have you done this with anyone else?" She asked, still staring at him. America briefly looked at her before looking back at the sky.
"A few, mostly just the people that have visited before."
"Did any of them beat you?" She asked, inching a little closer to him. America looked over again, starting to get unnerved. 'When was the last time she blinked?'
"Uhhh... well Lithuania never fought me because he was afraid, which is a shame since I learned he once beat Prussia and practices martial arts. I beat Romano and Japan, and Mattie... but he then challenged me to hockey and kicked my ass. So I would say two wins and one tie, which makes you the first one I lost to."
"So does that mean I'm the strongest you've ever fought?" She excitedly wondered.
"Well in sparring yes, but in an actual fight you're around 3rd place," America answered.
Belarus moved back a little bit, looking down with a crestfallen expression. Her sad face made America's heart tighten in his chest.
"Don't be upset, the only people stronger than you were actual superpowers. If it makes you feel any better, you're stronger than China, and he's basically a superpower."
Belarus smiled a little bit before looking back up at him. "Who are the top 2?" America looked down at the knife impaling him as he recollected the past fights with number 1 and 2.
"Number 2 is your brother, which is pretty obvious why. We were basically equals for half a century. And number 1... though they should be at number 2 now... is England. He may not have the power he once had, but back when I fought him, I was just thirteen colonies vs the superpower of the world."
After his little recollection, he looked back at Belarus, whom was giving him a vacant look. Though it didn't look like she was looking at him, rather something just off to the side.
America waved his hand in front of her face, but when that didn't register he resorted to poking her in the face. Her eyes finally focused on him and she raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Are you feeling alright?" America asked, worried with her strange behavior. Belarus sat up a little bit and nodded. "Just spacin~ out isss all."
America frowned and tried his best to sit up too. Something wasn't right. "Maybe it's best if we head back, don't want to get ticks or anything, right?"
Belarus nodded and slowly climbed to her feet, swaying side to side a bunch before steadying out. She reached out a hand to America, who promptly took it and painfully got to his feet.
The pair walked toward the training ground, though Belarus was having a hard time walking in a straight line as she kept wobbling back and forth, relying more and more on America's arm for balance. This didn't help with America's concern that there was something wrong.
After retrieving all of the knives and the bomber jacket, Belarus could no longer walk and needed a piggyback ride, which she must've found hilarious since she was laughing and urging him to "go faster!" Something was definitely wrong with her.
'What is up with her?' America asked.
'I think she might be concussed,' the voice responded.
'You sure?'
'Course I'm sure, ya smacked her face against the ground... twice!'
'You were the one that told me to stop holding back!'
'Well yeah... but ya woulda been killed if ya didn't.'
'Why do you even care? Aren't you constantly harassing me and trying to get me to kill myself?'
'I don't want ya ta kill yerself, I would die too. I feel pain too ya know, dat's why I don't like when ya get beat up.'
'So you do care?' America joked.
'Wrong. I couldn't give two shits about ya. I care about my self-preservation, and you constantly gettin' hurt is a literal pain in my ass.'
'Well I still appreciate it,' America said as he opened the porch door and entered the living room, dropping Belarus on the couch and walking off to grab some bandages.
When he returned, he sat on the couch next to her and gripped the handle of her knife, gritting his teeth as he began to slowly turn it out of him.
The second it was out he lifted his shirt and started wrapping his midsection in bandages, doing the same for the wounds on his leg and foot.
Afterwards he took the roll of bandages and moved to the other side of Belarus, rolling up her right sleeve and wrapping them around the knife wound.
"Is there anywhere else that hurts?" He asked as he wiped some blood from her nose. Belarus pouted at him and pointed to her forehead.
America took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, pointing at her eyes to see if there were any irregularities with her pupils.
"Yup, you have a concussion alright," he said as he put the phone back in his pocket. Belarus giggled as she poked him on the nose. "No wonder yur all funny lookin'... n' why I feel like I'm gonna. . . Uh oh."
As quick as he could, America ran and grabbed a trash can from the corner of the room, coming back in perfect time to catch her before she could ruin her dress and a good portion of the floor.
As she got all of it out of her system, America got her a couple painkillers and a glass of water, which she gulped down the second she had finished vomiting.
Belarus set down the cup on the coffee table and picked up the gaming controller, finally ready to get back to the game.
"Oh no," America said as he plucked the controller from her hands. "You aren't going anywhere near a tv until you heal."
Belarus angrily crossed her arms and threw herself onto a throw pillow. America laughed at her childish behavior and supportively tapped her shoulder before standing up.
"Just get better. In the meantime I'm gonna figure out how to save Lithuania."
(A few days later)
"Hey Belarus!" America happily yelled as he burst through the study door.
Belarus set her book down and rubbed her thumping head. "I still have a concussion you dick!"
"Oh, right... sorry," he quieted down.
"Now what do you want?" she asked, highly irritated with her reading being interrupted.
"I figured out how to bring Lithuania back," he declared as he held up a small object.
Belarus rolled her eyes and looked back at her book. "Yippee, how could I ever live without that thorn in my side."
"I know you're worried, but don't fret. The hero has build this awesome relay device that should bring Tony and Lithuania back, just with the push of this button.
He then pushed said button, sending out a loud beeping signal.
Lithuania had spent days scouring the planet, trying to find his way back to Tony's spaceship. As his hope of ever returning home was all but gone, he finally found the ship stationed at a hangar.
Quickly he ran inside and tapped the buttons of the control panel, eventually finding the one that turned on the monitor. The second the big screen shined its bright blue light, a loud beeping sounded throughout the ship.
The ship then lifted off the ground, much to the fear and confusion of Lithuania, and blasted off into space.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"