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Warning: Alcohol abuse, depressing themes, abuse.
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Word count: 613 wordsRussia stood by the sink as he washed the dishes while his siblings quietly played in the living room. It had been fairly quiet in the house since his father was often out on business trips or drinking himself drunk.
He had started to drink a lot after the war had started and during the war it only worsened. He was starting to get violent and not only on Russia but on his smaller siblings as well.
His father had gone insane.
Russia flinched as he heard the front door open which meant Ussr's dreaded arrival had come. He continued to wash the dishes as his siblings got up and walked quickly to their bedrooms.
Russia wiped off the cold water from his hands onto the apron he was wearing. Pulling down the sleeves on his woolen sweater, covering up the purple bruises littered on his arms.
Ussr stumbled into the kitchen with an empty Vodka bottle in hand, like usual. He looked at Russia with a misty glare. "You made no food?" He asked with a slur because of the alcohol.
Russia hadn't really expected his father to come home this early or even that night at all. They were running low on food and he didn't want to risk the chance of throwing away food.
"I didn't think you would come home this early," Russia admitted as he fiddled with the hem of his apron. Ussr growled and walked closer to the younger country, "I give you home, I give clothes. Yet you can't give food?" He said angrily while raising his bottle.
Russia stumbled backwards as he was preparing himself from a hard hit. Yet the bottle fell down next to him and crashed onto the counter behind him. He had tried to keep a calm expression as to not show weakness which his father despised greatly.
Ussr glared at him for a long while before he raised the bottle to stab into the younger's arm. Russia let out a pained scream as he could feel the pain shoot through his body. His eyes brimmed with tears as he tried to avoid letting them fall.
Ussr slowly retracted the bottle and threw it down on the ground. He raised his fist and hardly punched down onto the younger's stomach making him inhale sharply.
"Ah блуат!" Soviet Union said out loud as he stepped back clutching his head tightly. Russia looked at his father as he slowly curled in on himself, swearing and talking himself down.
"I'm sorry- sorry," he said as tears had started to fall down his face. For most people this would have seemed weird how his mood switched but for Russia it was daily life. He let out a sigh as he held the older man in his arms trying to calm him down.
Soviet hid his face in the younger's shoulder out of embarrassment. He hated showing himself weak in front of other people, even his own son.
"You never leave me right?" The drunk man asked in between sobs. Russia stayed silent as he held the older, "calm down папа," he said as he tried to soothe the other.
After a few minutes the man was exhausted and started to slowly fall asleep. Russia was used to this and held his father up and when he had completely fallen asleep he helped him into bed.
He let out a sigh as he stood in the door frame while looking at his father. He then walked to clean up the shattered glass and treat his wound before he himself going to bed.
As confused as always.
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Countryhumans || oneshots
FanfictionThis will include some heavy subjects because I can't stick to write about happy things