Meltdown [2/?]
anonymous
August 16 2009, 08:14:42 UTC
England sighed heavily, opened his mouth as though to say something, closed it again and finally clapped America on the shoulder.
“Just don't start a war with him or anything. We've all got enough on our plates.”
“Yes sir!” America said with a mock salute that earned him a punch on the arm from England. At last, the others had filtered out, leaving America and Russia alone in the conference room. Russia was still slowly packing away his things, lost in his own world.
“Uh...hey,” America said awkwardly, walking over to him. “So, um...yeah, what have you been...doing? Lately?” Well, this was off to a fantastic start. Russia looked over at him at last, still with that hollow, unhappy look in his eyes. He had dark rings under his eyes too, America noticed. Something was definitely eating him.
“What do you want?” Russia asked, in a voice as tired as his eyes.
“Nothing! I just, y'know...wanted to check up on you. Just a friendly chat between nations, nothing weird there.”
Russia had finished packing up his papers, and now stood up, intimidatingly close to America. He wasn't that much taller than the younger country, but those extra few inches he had were all too noticeable at close range.
“Why?” The word almost came out as a snarl, and the tired purple eyes had narrowed. “Why should you want to be friendly with me, unless you want something? What do you want from me?”
“I said 'nothing,' didn't I?” America snapped, his own temper rising up to match Russia's. “Why can't I just be asking how you are because I'm worried, huh? ….N-not that I'm really worried about you. More like curious, really. Yeah.”
“You're lying. No one ever just wants to be friendly. No one is ever curious about how I feel. If they act nice they always want something and I'm asking you, what's your game, America.”
“Are you deaf, dumb fuck? Or just really stupid?! My god, you're such a pain in the ass sometimes, it's no wonder you don't have any friends!”
This was the part where Russia would say something really nasty back at America, maybe insulting his people, or his president, and then America would say something even worse in return and it would probably come to blows. That was how it was supposed to go, but something went wrong this time. The color drained out of Russia's face, and the fury seemed sucked right out of the room. Something seemed to jerk in Russia's face and suddenly, without warning and to America's horror, tears were rolling down his face.
“Oh...” America said in a tiny voice as Russia reached a hand up to touch his wet cheeks, apparently just as surprised by the tears as America was. At this point Russia should have wiped his face, pulled himself together and left the room in a hurry, and the whole thing would have just been an awkward memory that they would try to forget. Instead, his face crumpled as a shuddering sob tore through him, and then another and another until Russia buried his face in his hands, shaking violently from the effort of trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Oh...oh shit, Russia, I...come on, don't do this...” America babbled helplessly as the largest country in the world completely went to pieces in front of him. “I-I didn't mean it about you not having any friends, I was just trying to piss you off, I wasn't trying to-”
Russia tried to cut him off to say something, but the words got mangled in the sobs and it all just came out as blubbering nonsense.
“Okay, I don't know if that was English or not, but you gotta calm down a bit if you wanna talk,” America said, trying to take charge of this bizarre situation. “Just, um...take a few deep breaths, okay? Just move your hands and breathe.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Russia took his hands away from his face and drew a few uneven breaths. He looked awful; fat tears were still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin, and his nose was running, forcing him to sniffle a great deal. If America hadn't felt guilty before, he certainly did now.
“Any better?” he asked weakly when the sobs had died down a little.
“Just don't start a war with him or anything. We've all got enough on our plates.”
“Yes sir!” America said with a mock salute that earned him a punch on the arm from England. At last, the others had filtered out, leaving America and Russia alone in the conference room. Russia was still slowly packing away his things, lost in his own world.
“Uh...hey,” America said awkwardly, walking over to him. “So, um...yeah, what have you been...doing? Lately?” Well, this was off to a fantastic start. Russia looked over at him at last, still with that hollow, unhappy look in his eyes. He had dark rings under his eyes too, America noticed. Something was definitely eating him.
“What do you want?” Russia asked, in a voice as tired as his eyes.
“Nothing! I just, y'know...wanted to check up on you. Just a friendly chat between nations, nothing weird there.”
Russia had finished packing up his papers, and now stood up, intimidatingly close to America. He wasn't that much taller than the younger country, but those extra few inches he had were all too noticeable at close range.
“Why?” The word almost came out as a snarl, and the tired purple eyes had narrowed. “Why should you want to be friendly with me, unless you want something? What do you want from me?”
“I said 'nothing,' didn't I?” America snapped, his own temper rising up to match Russia's. “Why can't I just be asking how you are because I'm worried, huh? ….N-not that I'm really worried about you. More like curious, really. Yeah.”
“You're lying. No one ever just wants to be friendly. No one is ever curious about how I feel. If they act nice they always want something and I'm asking you, what's your game, America.”
“Are you deaf, dumb fuck? Or just really stupid?! My god, you're such a pain in the ass sometimes, it's no wonder you don't have any friends!”
This was the part where Russia would say something really nasty back at America, maybe insulting his people, or his president, and then America would say something even worse in return and it would probably come to blows. That was how it was supposed to go, but something went wrong this time. The color drained out of Russia's face, and the fury seemed sucked right out of the room. Something seemed to jerk in Russia's face and suddenly, without warning and to America's horror, tears were rolling down his face.
“Oh...” America said in a tiny voice as Russia reached a hand up to touch his wet cheeks, apparently just as surprised by the tears as America was. At this point Russia should have wiped his face, pulled himself together and left the room in a hurry, and the whole thing would have just been an awkward memory that they would try to forget. Instead, his face crumpled as a shuddering sob tore through him, and then another and another until Russia buried his face in his hands, shaking violently from the effort of trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Oh...oh shit, Russia, I...come on, don't do this...” America babbled helplessly as the largest country in the world completely went to pieces in front of him. “I-I didn't mean it about you not having any friends, I was just trying to piss you off, I wasn't trying to-”
Russia tried to cut him off to say something, but the words got mangled in the sobs and it all just came out as blubbering nonsense.
“Okay, I don't know if that was English or not, but you gotta calm down a bit if you wanna talk,” America said, trying to take charge of this bizarre situation. “Just, um...take a few deep breaths, okay? Just move your hands and breathe.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Russia took his hands away from his face and drew a few uneven breaths. He looked awful; fat tears were still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin, and his nose was running, forcing him to sniffle a great deal. If America hadn't felt guilty before, he certainly did now.
“Any better?” he asked weakly when the sobs had died down a little.
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