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Three sharp knocks at Russia's door made him grumble before hauling himself out of bed. He slipped on the nearest shirt and made his way downstairs, flinging open the front door as soon as he was within reach. He was in a fouler mood than usual, all of the negativity stemming from one main topic: America. Today was the aforementioned country's independence day, which meant Russia was going to have to dig out the noise-cancelling headphones and pray that the fireworks show didn't last very long. He'd like to get more than 6 hours of sleep, thank you very much.
Unfortunatly, the very source of all of his moodiness was giving him an awkward smile from the doorway, two bags clutched a little too tightly in his hands. Russia scowled deeply and leaned on the doorway. "What?" He snapped. America winced ever so slightly, shuffling his feet. "Uh, well- You know, since- Uhm- I know that people don't like the fireworks..." He trailed off for a moment before clearing his throat and repositioning once again. "I know that a lot of people don't like the sounds and lights the fireworks make, and I know for a fact that you hate anything having to do with me, so I figured..."
He reached into the bags, pulling out a pair of headphones from one and a sleep mask from the other. "I- I figured I could help with that, y'know? So, this year, I bought the quietest fireworks I could find, and there are a few that are loud, but that's what these are for! Uh, they're, uh, noise-cancelling," He gestured vaguely with the headphones, "And the sleepmask is readjustable, not one size fits all."
He finished his ramble and swallowed thickly. "So, yeah. Would you- I mean, unless you have some already, I know Poland already did- I, uh-" Russia cut him off with a heavy sigh. He stood from the doorframe and stretched out his hands. "Just hand them over." America nodded quickly and fumbled them into the other country's hands. "Okay! Uh, so, I'm just gonna- I'll just- I'm going!" He quickly turned tail, trying to get away as quickly as possible. Against his screaming instincts, Russia snatched the back of his hood and yanked him back over.
While America could be considerate at times, he hadn't done anything big like this since Russia had known him. It always worked out for both parties, with the most benefits going towards America. In this case, though, there didn't seem to be anything in it for him. Sure, there would be less annoyed neighbors complaining the next morning, but when had that ever stopped him? Something was off, and Russia at least wanted to know what had sparked this. America was stuttery and nervous and sweaty and way more awkward in those few moments than Russia had ever seen. It was off-putting, to say the least.
"What's caused this change of heart?" He asked. America rubbed his neck from where he'd been choked and didn't meet Russia's eyes. "Uh, nothing! I just thought that people must be getting annoyed, 's all..." The taller of the two didn't believe it for a second.
"Uh-huh."
"Yup!" America didn't seem to miss a thing, catching on to Russia's disbelieve and forcing out a smile in an instant. Russia would have fallen for it if the grin hadn't come in too late.
"Bullshit."
America was the one to scowl this time as he stepped away. The sharp shift in atmosphere was a little disturbing. "I said it was nothing. Leave it be."
"Damn, I thought this was your happy-day! The hell are you snapping at me for?" Russia shot back. America seemed to realize his mistake. He glanced around a little too wildly before he shook his head. "'S nothing. I'm just gonna go, alright? I've got more people to visit..." He mumbled at the end, already starting to walk away. When Russia opened his mouth to respond, America picked up his pace and sped around the corner.
~Lemme Get Uhhhh Small Timeskip Because I'm Sure You Don't Want To Read 2000 Words On What Russia Does For The Next Five Hours~
Russia angrily pulled on a pair of tennis shoes, loosely tying the laces before striding out his front door. The night was warm and humid, almost humid enough to make him turn right back around and stay inside for the evening. He didn't, though. He was a man on a mission, with that mission being 'Find Out What The Hell IS Wrong With America'. He locked the door before shoving the keys into his shorts pockets and getting on his way.
As he made his way down the street, he tried to come up with ideas as to what was going on. Alas, he had as much luck now as he did earlier that day. No new and realistic ideas came to mind as to why America was acting weird when he handed off those items, or why he had been so quick to get away, or why he had given them away in the first place, or why Russia had found it in himself to care. He tried to pass it off as He's my enemy, I should know what my enemy is doing, but he knew that wasn't true.
His near-ranting thoughts came to an end as he veered off of the sidewalk and onto a run-down pathway. The dirt and gravel leading up to the hill America used to watch his fireworks had recently been disturbed, meaning the country was only so far ahead. Russia had a feeling he'd get there just as America was settling in.
As he suspected, the smaller of the two was just starting to sit down as Russia made his way up the slope. America was seated on a cheesy red-and-white picnic blanket, with one of those cooler-bags in the grass next to him. The bag was open, though, and Russia could see a cookies-and-cream flavored tub of ice-cream sticking out of it. Rolling his eyes, he focused on America and frowned. Another pair of silencing headphones was in his lap, being pulled at and fiddled with by the American. He kept tugging on the ear pieces before yanking them, drawing them to the largest size, before pushing them back down to the smallest.
Russia nudged the other country with his foot to get his attention. He opened his mouth to speak, but he faltered slightly when America shot a good couple of inches off the ground before whipping around. "Oh! Russia!" He yelped. "It's, uh- It's- What are you doing here?" Russia almost cringed at the nervousness in the other's voice. "I came to talk," He grunted.
To his surprise, he witnessed a mess of emotions flicker across America's face. He was expecting to have to play this conversation by careful words and subtle eye movements, and he was prepared for that, but he wasn't prepared for the raw emotion the other showed. Fear, panic, sadness, rage, they were all there. None of them should have been there.
He exhaled slowly before taking a seat on the blanket next to America. The latter inched away.
"What's up with you today?" Russia started. This conversation was already off the rails, and it hadn't even really begun.
"Mm... not much! I mainly just went and passed stuff out to people." America was trying to play dumb. Russia pursed his lips. "I'm not buying it." He retorted. America sighed, but Russia kept going. "You've been ansty the whole day, despite it being your independence day. You're usually really loud and obnoxious during the whole week." When America didn't respond, the Russian glanced over. That seemed to be all the prompting the shorter of the two needed.
"Do you really wanna know? Or are you just trying to fuck around with me?" America whispered. Russia paused. He didn't really know himself. After a moment's debation, he forced eye contact with the other. "I just want to know." America broke contact and drew his legs up to his chest, looking up at the sky. Despite being 8 o'clock at night, the sky had only just turned dark.
"You're right. I am loud, and obnoxious, and a jerk, and self-centered, and inconsiderate, and selfish, and rude, and a burden, and a mess, and-" Before he could go any further, Russia butt in. "I didn't say all that!" America ignored him. "And I can't... I just wanna be included. And I know that's dumb, and that I get included in stuff all the time, but it's never... It's never really in a good way. I get invited to parties as a trophy friend. I get invited to go out and chat out of pity. I try to join a conversation and I get ignored. And whenever people talk about me of their own free will, it's always a joke about the latest fuck-up from yours truly, or a jab about stuff I want to forget, or an off-hand comment about being a general shit-show."
America swallowed back tears that didn't go unnoticed by Russia and continued. "Sometimes... Sometimes I just wish someone would come up to me and say, 'Everything's gonna be just fine.'. Because even though I know it's not, it'd still feel nice. It would still feel nice to know that someone is at least trying to make it look like they care about me." The tears finally started to fall. It was quiet for what felt like forever before America finally spoke again. "You can go now. I won't feel bad. ...Well, I won't feel worse." He chuckled dryly and tried to wipe his eyes. It didn't work.
Russia sat still for a few heartbeats that he could hear very clearly before he reached out a shaky hand. As soon as it made contact with America's shoulder, the country jumped and snapped his head over to look. Russia flashed him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I care." I care?
America immediately shoved the hand away, fury thundering over his face. "You- You- I let out all this stupid bullshit I've been holding in and you think you can just play around with me? With my feelings? You think that just because I'm feeling like actual horse shit you can have a better chance of hurting me?" Russia tried to move closer, but America got to his feet. "You son of a-"
He cut himself off when Russia shot forwards and engulfed him in a hug. "I'm not trying to... America, nobody deserves to feel like that. Even if I want to tie you to the back of a moving truck by your teeth sometimes," America managed a snort, "I don't hate you. Or even dislike you. If anything, I'm the mess out of the two of us. I'm the one who can't even tell what the hell I'm feeling ninety percent of the time, this being one of those times."
He contemplated moving out of the hug, but he quickly threw that idea out the window when he felt America start to shake. "What I am sure about, though, is that you don't need to feel that way. There are people who care about you, and while I'm not sure that I myself am one of those people, I can name ten right here right now. I'm not saying that you don't deserve to feel like that, because that makes it sound like there are people with problems more pressing than yours out there. And while there are some people with predicaments worse than yours, that doesn't make you any less important. You need to make sure you are okay before you move on to others."
His shirt was getting a little wet.
"You and your problems are important too. You're allowed to feel like this. You can feel that people don't care about you enough, because that means that they aren't showing it well enough. You can tell them how you feel and, hopefully, they'll tell you more often how much they love you. If they try to pull any of that 'You shouldn't feel like this' bullcrap on you, you leave them behind and find some healthy friends. Friends that will love you, support you, help you through times when you don't feel as good as you can. You can make your own family. A newer, better family. A family that loves you for who and what you are."
He didn't know when, but at some point, America's hands had started to cling to his tee-shirt. The nails in his sides were starting to hurt, but he had had enough problems of his own to know that America needed to just let it out. He tried to keep talking, but the words wouldn't come to him. Sighing quietly, he glanced to his side and gasped. He nudged the country clinging to him and pointed when he looked up.
A nearly inaudible bang sounded from the treeline before a rocket shot into the air. There was nothing but a quiet whistle as it went up before going off. There was no sound as an explosion of color flashed just over the treetops, illuminating everything around it. Russia cast a quick glance over at America, who still had his hands tangled in his shirt. His face was washed in red light, the tear tracks shimmering in the fireworks' display. The light quickly left, and Russia was only disappointed for a second before he got to see America again, this time in blue.
There were no loud sounds from anywhere around them, yet the fireworks were still just as, if not more so enjoyable. The explosions were small and quick, but that was fine. Russia had a sinking feeling that him, America, and the fireworks's lighter were the only people watching the show.
It wasn't long before America stopped crying, enamored by the display, but he didn't let go of Russia. In fact, as he got more and more relaxed, he may have tightened his grip ever so slightly. He didn't want this moment to end. He felt happy and hopeful for what felt like the first time in years. No threats looming over his head, no worry of pissing his friends off with the show, no nerves that he'd get abandoned in the near future for souring the day for anyone.
The show only lasted for twenty minutes, but it felt so much longer. By the time it was over, Russia's eyes were a little sore from the bright flashes, though his ears were perfectly sane. He snaked a hand down and pressed America tight into his side before drawing his entire body away. America's hand instinctively reached out for the disappearing warmth before it shot back down to his side. Russia flashed the other country a grin, though he knew America couldn't see it. "You wanna just come hang out at my house for a little bit? I know it's a lot closer."
America slowly nodded. "...Sure."
"If you don't want to, it's fine!"
"I do, it's just... You're pitying me, and I don't like it."
The taller country scoffed and ruffled America's hair a little bit. "Am not. Come on, I'll even carry your ice-cream bag."
"My ice-cream! I completely forgot about it!"