The Aftermath of War [Hetalia RusAme]

Chapter 13- Letters to Russia

Alfred sat at his writing desk, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. The only light in the room came from the lamp sitting on his nightstand. Grabbing a pen, he began to write.

Dear Russia...

No. Too informal. Alfred scratched out 'Russia'.

Dear Soviet Union...

No. He's not writing to each of the countries that make up the USSR, he's only writing to one of them. 'Soviet Union' was scribbled out, leaving a black smudge of ink.

Maybe it's the 'dear' part of the introduction? Alfred crossed out 'Dear'.

Russia.

Well, now it seems rude. Alfred crumpled up the paper and tossed it to a nearby wastebasket, joining the growing pile of discarded letters. 

"Why am I even doing this?" Alfred sighed, looking out a nearby window. The sun had only just begun to rise. 

Matthew had suggested writing down all the things that were troubling Alfred. Something about 'venting your frustrations' instead of bottling them up. He also suggested telling Ivan about Anna. 'Maybe he'll offer to help you raise her', Mattie had said. What a joke.

And yet, after struggling to sleep for hours, here Alfred was, trying to kill two birds with one stone. He could hear the distant sounds of traffic coming from below. At least others were having a more productive day than he was.

Alfred grabbed a new sheet of paper, clicking his pen. 

Dear Russia,

So we're back to that, huh? 

It's America.

God, he felt stupid just writing that.

'I guess you could figure it out just from my handwriting. In all honesty, I'm not even sure why I'm writing to you. I'm pretty sure if either of our bosses found out about this, they'd lose their minds.'

That was an understatement. Alfred was already sure his boss didn't like him anyway, he didn't need to add fuel to that fire. He glanced out the window again. The blues and violets of the night were turning into the reds and orange of dawn as the sun continued to climb into the sky. Fighting a yawn, Alfred went back to the letter.

'I guess I should start off by asking how you're doing. You know, post-war and all. I'm doing okay. Hopefully, you're okay too.'

Alfred's mind began to wander. Yes, his economy seemed to be recovering after the war, but he genuinely had no clue how Ivan or the others might be doing. Maybe he should write to them too. 

Alfred stood up for a moment, stretching before walking away from his desk. He paced back and forth, glancing at his desk but failing to find the motivation to continue working on the letter. He just... needed a moment.

He made his way to the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee. God, he missed this stuff. Once he poured himself a cup, Alfred took a sip, almost instantly feeling a little better. Though it didn't last long.

Leaning over the counter, Alfred caught his reflection in a nearby pot. He had dark circles under his eyes, his face had gotten pale over the past month or so, and his hair was a mess. He sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

"Daddy?"

Alfred looked at where the voice had come from. Though his vision was blurred, he could tell it was Anna, who at this point looked like she was about 4. 

Anna was wearing one of his t-shirts as a nightgown. She rubbed her eyes, having just woken up. She held a pink stuffed rabbit close to her. It was her favorite toy. 

Alfred put his glasses back on, glancing at a nearby clock. 6:37 A.M. He lifted Anna up into his arms. "What are you doing up so early?" 

"I had a bad dream..." Anna clung to her father. "I couldn't find you, I ran and ran but you were gone, and I got scared and then a big scary guy grabbed me and I couldn't get away..." She sniffled softly. 

"Hey, look at me," Alfred hushed. He brushed some hair out of her face. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Smiling, he carried her back to her bedroom. "There is nothing in this world that will ever keep me from you. And nobody will ever take you from me." 

Anna's bedroom had your basic needs for a small child: a bed, a dresser, and a decent amount of toys. One of the walls had various swatches of paint colors; Alfred had been meaning to make the room more of what she liked but hadn't had the time to really finish it. 

Alfred sat on the bed carefully, still holding Anna close. "No matter what happens to me, I will never let anything keep me away from you." 

Anna still clung to her father, though she had stopped crying. Still, she whined when Alfred tried to lay her down in her own bed. "Nooo, I wanna stay with you..."

Alfred couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay then. Do you wanna sleep in my bed then?" When Anna nodded, he stood and headed back to his room.

"Wait, don't forget Floppy!"

"I won't forget Floppy, don't worry," Alfred said, grabbing the stuffed rabbit that had fallen onto the floor.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It took maybe 10 minutes before Anna had fallen back asleep in Alfred's bed. Then another 5 minutes for Alfred to get out from under the covers without waking her up again. 

Alfred went back to writing the letter, this time focusing on anything he felt Ivan needed to know about Anna. He wrote about how, despite only being a few months old technically, she was physically four years old. He wrote about her first steps, her first word, and some of her favorite things. He wrote about wanting to get her enrolled in school and wanting to finish setting up her room.

Alfred stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes. He wanted to at least finish the letter before trying to sleep again. 

I don't know how I'm going to send this letter to you, or if I'll ever send it at all. You deserve to know what's going on with Anna. You really do. But I have no idea how to do it. I can imagine my boss reading through every letter I send or every letter I receive, just because he can. And I imagine your boss doing the same thing.

I guess I should admit that Anna really doesn't know about you. But I wish you could see her. She's asleep right now. She's got this stuffed bunny that she absolutely loves. She named it Floppy. Takes it everywhere she goes. 

Alfred chuckled softly, glancing back at Anna. She fell in love with the toy rabbit the first time she saw it, walking past a toy shop on the way back home from the grocery store. He yawned again, scribbling down a few more sentences.

I know it probably won't happen for a long, long time, but I really hope everything goes back to normal. For our daughter's sake. Anastasia deserves that.

Alfred set down the pen, put the letter in a safe place for now, and crawled into bed. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This chapter is honestly shorter than I thought it would be, but I am also writing it at 1 in the morning. If it wasn't obvious, whatever is italicized is supposed to be what America is writing in the letter, while the normal text is just, you know, normal text. If I need to, I'll post a separate chapter that is just what the letter says, so that it's easier to understand.