Rival Schools - RusAme

{Change of Homes}

America begrudgingly opened his eyes, squinting immediately as the room was brighter than a millionaire's gold pile. He slowly adjusted to the light and turned his head, noticing he was alone in the room. Sadness was now overcoming him, tears pricking the bottom of his eyes. He was sure he'd wake up with Russia next to him, but he didn't even have his plush bear. He raised his hands up to cover his face, letting the tears fall. He was alone, he was always alone. He always felt alone despite his popularity. He never felt like he had true friends or people near him until he met Russia and Russia wasn't even with him. Russia was nowhere near, he was probably back home not even thinking of America.

"Oh, Meri..."

America slowly looked up only to realize he was imagining Russia's voice. He was fucking pathetic. He slid himself back into the bed and under the covers, sobbing quietly. He was imagining Russia comforting him. He was imagining Russia pulling him into a hug. He was imagining Russia kissing his forehead like he always did, brushing his hair out of the way. Yet here was America, crying his heart out as quietly as he could, hidden under the hospital blankets. He was imagining of Russia giving him hat he needs rather than picking up the phone and calling him.

He imagined Russia pulling the blanket from over him and lifting America's face up, gently kissing his lips and wiping his tears away as he did so. America's eyes fluttered open only to notice it was not a figment of America's pathetic dreams anymore, Russia was actually there. Russia was looking at him with a sorrow filled face, America only being able to look down and resist more tears, guilt hanging over him now. He tried to talk, but his mouth refused to move, no sound daring come from his throat.

"Ame, what happened? Are you still hurting? I can get the doctors to give you more pain medication."

"I thought you left me," America whispered back, too embarrassed to even talk normally. "I thought I'd have to go back home. I don't wanna go home. Home is scary, home hurts me."

"It's not your home," a new voice interrupted, his voice also low. "It was never your home nor your siblings."

America slowly looked up to Soviet, fighting the tears back even more now as he was wrapped in his arms, Russia still holding America's hand. Although America had no clue what Soviet was hinting at in his words, he still enjoyed them before fully grasping the last few words.

   "My sisters!" he yelled, pushing himself up and out the hug, seemingly about to leave the bed. "They aren't safe I need to protect them!"

   "They are all with Ukraine and Belarus at home," Soviet calmly answered. "The police let me take them."

   "Th-the police? You called the police?"

   "If your worried about school, I'm not transferring any of you. If you worried about your parents, I will kill them myself if I ever see them," Soviet replied, trying to comfort America.

   "The police didn't believe me last time, they said I was lying and a waste of their time," America mumbled, curling himself into a ball. "That's why I have to protect my sisters, the police won't believe us."

   "Except Ukraine and Russia were able to record the phone call. You never hung up, Russia heard everything along with Ukraine and I hearing most of it. Ukraine also snuck back to your room and got pictures before the room was cleaned so the police wouldn't have evidence, which they did do. We got evidence for you, dear."

   America nodded, pulling Russia's hand closer to him, holding it against his face. Russia laughed and pulled America up, holding him in his arms before sitting on the bed himself. America wrapped himself tightly around his boyfriend, digging his head into his chest, finally allowing the tears to fall again. He let himself sob louder this time, finally getting the comfort from Russia he wanted. He also now knew his sisters were safe, a relief that whatever he did in his life to keep them safe, it worked.

   "Get some rest, we're going to check you out of here," Soviet said, standing up.

   The sound of fading footsteps followed, America closing his eyes once he finally let each tear leave. He loosened his grip on Russia and was being pampered with plenty of kisses from him. It was nice, it was what he always wanted really. Now he was asleep, but he vaguely remembers being carried to the car again. Again, he was laying on Russia the entire trip, nothing but joy inside. He was finally happy, he had succeeded in each thing he pledged to do.