Forever | Countryhumans AU | RusAme/AmeRus

30

America was on the verge of dozing off when his phone started buzzing. "'ello?" he mumbled. "America here." He pushed himself upright on his bed, blanket still resting on his legs. "Amerika, sorry to bother you so late."

"No problem, Ruski. Are you alright?" America dismissed. "I'm good, but it's not about me. My dad wants to meet you."

"Now?" America asked. "It's 3 am, I'm not allowed to go out now. Perhaps later in the morning?" There was a short silence on the other line, followed by some soft muttering. "He thinks he don't have much time left. He wants to meet you now, just in case. He promises your saftey, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'll try and sneak out. Are you able to pick me up at the road leading to the park we went to when you came over for dinner?" America compromised. "Yes, I'll pick you up in a few minutes." Russia agreed. "See you in a bit." 

"See you soon." America returned before hanging up and getting out of bed. He got up before changing into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He opened his window and looked out, wondering if he'll be able to make the jump without injuring himself. 

He decided against it after thinking about the noise it would make and the possibility of not landing right and grabbed his coat from his closet before walking downstairs quietly, avoiding the steps he knew squeaked. 

Shrugging on his coat, he slipped out the door, making sure it shut silently and then moving off in the direction of the road he was going to be picked up at. Russia's dad thinks he's gonna die soon, huh? But why does he want to meet me? America thought bemusedly.

America waited for a while, hands in his pocket until a red Lada pulled up. Russia cranked the window down. "Get in, it's cold out."

America got into the front passenger seat, riding shotgun. "So, uh, why does your dad want to see me?" America wondered out loud. "I'm not sure, he didn't tell me either. I don't know why he thinks he's not going to live 'til the morning either."

"Oh, okay," America said. "Um. Is this your car?" Russia shook his head. "It's my dad's car. He let me borrow it to pick you up." America nodded his head slowly. "I see... do you have a license to drive...?"

"No, but who the fuck cares anyways. There's not much cars out on the road and I can drive pretty okay, we don't have a reason to be pulled over." Russia replied, taking one hand of the wheel for a short while, waving it.

The pair set in silence while Russia continued driving, humming a folk song under his breath and squinting at the road ahead of him.

When they had arrived, USSR was standing at the steps of their wooden front porch, holding a glass of water. "Amerika," he greeted, holding the door open for Russia and America. "Mr. Soviet," America adressed back.

The trio walked to a wooden dining table and took a seat after they had turned on the lights, Russia and America sitting across Soviet.

"I think you know that I'm fracturing pretty badly already. I want to leave this world without any regrets," he begun. "I want to tell you how sorry I am for shooting you. I shouldn't have done that. I should've controlled myself better. I also want to thank you for making my son happier than I have ever seen him before."

"Please, after I pass, continue to be there for him in his ups and downs." Soviet urged. "I will. Actually, I'm not sure if he told you, but we're..." America trailed off, exchanging a glance with Russia. Russia nodded, a go ahead sign for America.

"We're dating, so I'll be here for a while and I promise that I'll be there for Russia." America continued. Soviet looked proudly at his eldest son. "You've found a good man," he remarked.