you'll never be alone <3 (Rusame)

***3***

America looked up at Russia, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. He opened his mouth to speak, but only hot air escaped. Russia could feel his legs become weak underneath him. This one country had caused him so much pain, so much hatred and sadness...

and here he was, standing right in front of him. His coworker.

America had never forgotten about Russia either. The older he got, the more he began to see what a horrible person he was to the poor country. The guilt had always followed him like a dark shadow, and now that shadow stood looking down at him, feeling fear and hatred. The shorter country gulped and managed to stammer out a sentence. "L-long time n-no see, Russia". Russia felt his eyes wet with tears, but he blinked them away. He felt anger burn inside him, almost stronger than the fear."Look, Russ, I know that-" "Do not call me that." He snapped in rage. "Do not talk to me. You don't know the extent of what you've done, so just shut up and save your apologies." America looked shocked at Russia's bitter tone. "But-" "What did I just say?! You are every bit as incompetent as you used to be, aren't you?" He turned to him nervous boss. "I'm sorry, but I have to be heading home." He picked up his dropped flannels and walked out of the door, leaving a stunned America and a confused Columbia behind. He walked, then jogged, then ran away from the cafe. He was devastated. All the times he came home from school with blacked eyes and tear stained cheeks, or ripped report cards and bruises. He wanted desperately to run away and never look back, ignoring the fact that this was now his job. He ran down the sidewalk and into the house, where Germany and Ukraine were playing video games while Soviet cooked breakfast, most likely for his sleeping husband.

Soviet seemed to be the first person to notice Russia standing in the doorway. He turned around with a kind smile on his face. He may have been cold to most people, but never to his family. When he saw the expression on his oldest son's face, he sat down his spatula and turned off the stove. "What's wrong, Russ?"

Columbia eyed America with die confusion. "I'm sorry, what just happened?" America sighed and looked down at his red converse. "Well... me and Russia have some history". One look from Columbia showed him that he had to tell the story. "Well, really, it's a bunch of bull. My dad and Russ' dad don't get along. Like, at all. I was always taught by my dad that Russ was this piece of shit, and it was my job to make sure he knew it. I... i tortured the poor guy. Blacked his eye a few times, destroyed his stuff, all sorts of messed up crap." He let out another sigh. "I understand that he hates me. But..." Columbia finished his sentence. "You want to build a burnt bridge? That, my friend, is gonna take a lot of bricks," she paused, "and probably a lot of fire extinguisher too". "Well could i get some help?" Columbia went to her office and emerged with Russia's application. "Here's his number, but I can't help you. And I didn't give you it either". America nodded.