Forever | Countryhumans AU | RusAme/AmeRus

6

"Rus." Someone was calling his name. It sounded like it was from a distance, to the Russian. He felt like he was underwater.

"Hey, Ruski." Russia thought for a moment. He thinks it is America, maybe. 

"Russia, are you okay?" Russia was jerked back to the present, the feeling of being underwater dissipating. America was looking at him, and he asked again, "Are you okay? You look a little tired and lost. Do you need to go home to rest?"

"Нет... I mean, no. I'm okay." Russia blinked. He had a glazed look on his face before America called his name, although he wasn't aware that he was distracted. America looked at his friend thoughtfully for a while, before picking up the closed book he had laid on his lap.

"You sure you're okay?"

Russia nodded, and America went back to his book. Russia brought a book along with him when he visited today, thinking that America would enjoy it. He had been visiting his friend in the hospital for the last three days and bringing him his homework and notes from school.

America seemed engrossed in the book, and Russia was glad that that was the case. Despite finding joy in seeing America recover steadily, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering from the present to the past every time he visited.

America would be released in another two days, and Russia was worried about how he could protect him from any more attacks from his father. He couldn't risk letting America be hurt because of their friendship, not again, not ever. 

An idea dawned on him. It seemed like a good one, except he may hurt America's feelings. But Russia reasoned that it would be the best for America in the long term. Maybe he could convince his brother to cut ties with Canada to keep America and his family safe.

A wry smile cracked through Russia's expressionless mask he wore, and he hid it as soon as it appeared, before America realised. Two days. 48 more hours to spend with America, 48 more hours before he had to stop Ukraine from keeping in contact with Canada, to keep America and his family safe.

He'll probably regret the idea, but by the time 48 hours is over, America will be safe and Russia gone. There was no going back.

I hope you forgive me for what I'm going to do, Russia thought, glancing at America, but I'll try my best to make the last 48 hours the best I can. 

"Hey, Uki." Russia entered his brother's room, clutching his left wrist. "Do we still have any Advil left? My wrist is starting to hurt again."

Ukraine looked up from his work as his older brother asked the question. "No, we don't. We have some hydrocodone though. It's in the first-aid kit, let me get it for you." The blue-and-yellow country led Russia to where it was kept, and passed him a bottle of painkillers.

Russia thanked his brother and retreated to his room, popping a pill. His wrist was starting to ache badly again, and he was grateful for the painkiller. Fighting the drowsiness, he completed his homework and prepared dinner, quickly finishing his meal so as to escape from his father's glare.

The Russian took a nap after, slipping into uneasy and strange dreams. Memories flashed through, distorted and strange. Scenes as far back as his toddler days played in his head, ending differently from his reality. He saw himself in a happy and complete family, where he was able to be close to America freely without being a disappointment...

...and America dying in his arms from the poison...

Russia woke up with a start, breathing heavily as if he had just ran a mile in under a few minutes. He looked around wildly, looking for his phone. The time was four in the afternoon and America had just sent him a text about the book he was reading.

Taking deep and repetitive breaths, Russia slowed his heart rate back to normal. It was just a dream. Nothing but a dream. He stretched and shuffled around, tidying up his room. Then, when he was satisfied, he left the room to do his chores.

Back in the hospital, America had just finished the book Russia gave him. He hid it securely in the hospital nightstand so that his parents wouldn't be able to find it. He was now recovered enough to be able to stand without feeling dizzy. 

He stood up, walking over to the window opposite to his hospital bed, and looked out. The view outside of the window was of a busy road. He stared for a while, lost in thought. He wondered what Russia was doing.

"Hey Ame, what are you thinking of?" France tapped her son's shoulder softly. America shook his head, feeling that it wasn't going to be the best idea to share his thoughts, especially not with his father. "Nothing, I was just looking at the view."

"It isn't a very nice view, innit?" His father commented. America shook his head again. He didn't hate it, but he found no beauty in it either. He just wanted to go home to Rover and his siblings. He missed school, and he missed hanging out with his Russian friend during recess and lunch.

"The doctors said you could go home soon, did they tell you?" France mentioned. America replied. "Yeah, they told me and-"

America paused. He almost said Russia's name. "And.. and I'm really happy and excited to go home and back to school..."

His parents smiled slightly. "I'm glad you're excited to go home, sonny." Britain said quietly. "I'm sorry for forcing you to stay away from Russia, but I feel that it's to be done. Maybe you could hang out with Germany and Poland? I haven't seen you with them for quite a while."

America forced himself not to argue and call his father something rude. Britain was his father after all, and maybe it was wiser to let his father think he had stopped hanging out with Russia. "Okay, I guess. You're right, I haven't been hanging out with them for quite a while now that they're in a different class." He mumbled. 

Perhaps America could introduce the two of them to Russia. America shrugged. "How's Kiwi and Aussie at home?"

France laughed. "They miss you, and they've been insisting to come visit you. Perhaps we'll bring them tomorrow." America grinned. Having his two younger siblings come over was going to be great.

Britain nodded. The two of them had been begging him to bring them along when they visited their older brother. France took out a container of soup. "I brought bisque, hospital food is usually so bland, I thought I'd make it for you to drink."

America took it from his mother's hand, murmuring his thanks. His hands shook slightly as he opened the container. Taking an unnoticeable deep breath, he drank the soup. He only relaxed when he had finished the bisque and was feeling as fine as he was before.

"It's nice." America said, silently adding in his mind, I'm glad it wasn't poisoned.