Bled

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America stumbled back - he hadn't died. Russia did, and now America didn't know where Russia was.

"Russia!" He called, "Are you okay? Russia!"

America's voice carried through the place around him - he stood beside a large river, fast flowing and sharp boulders piercing the surface of the liquid. Sound barely travelled where he stood, the rumble of the water dominated every other noise.

America began to get worried - what if Russia didn't make it to this projection? What if they weren't able to keep him alive in real life? America's mind flicked constantly to the worst possibilities, he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"I am okay," A deep Russian accent came. America spun around on his heels and hugged Russia again, pushing him away after a second.

"Don't do that!" He shouted, irritated, "I should be the one to d-"

"No, you should not," Russia frowned, "I myself know how it feels, I can take it. I am fine, America!"

Russia chuckled as America stood in silence, until America's shoulders dropped. He raised a finger at Russia.

"I am not happy with you," He said sternly. Russia shrugged it off and looked to the river behind America. America looked to where he pointed; a sharp looking boulder was there, he cringed, he knew what Russia was getting at.

"Before you ask, I'm taking this one," America crossed his arms, though he might have not wanted to die again, he didn't want Russia to.

Russia didn't say anything as America tested his cold the water was, before stepping in completely. He was quickly pushed over by the current, he cried out in pain as he felt something sharp cut deep into his thigh. He began to flail about, before Russia decided to pull America out of the water. He carefully laid America down beside the water, America sat up and tried not to hold his wound.

"It hurts," America repeated, tears stung his eyes. Russia could only sit and watch, he wasn't sure what to do. America looked up to Russia, shivering and hurt, it looked as though he'd expected something. Russia sat there, unsure. Russia then did the only thing that came to mind.

He shuffled forward and picked America up slightly, and allowed America to rest in his lap. His arm served as a head rest for America, America smirked and leaned on Russia.

"You're still a huge bastard," America croaked. Russia chuckled.

"We still are not friends," He replied. America looked to Russia.

"I wouldn't.." America slowed down, "count.. o-on that..."

America then blacked out, his breath slowed. Russia sighed, glancing at America's wound and then his pale but peaceful expression, he thought it all happened too fast.

Russia was about to pull America closer to his chest when America disappeared from his arms - Russia was in a new place.

He sighed again.

They weren't friends... Right?

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