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As much as Ivan hated the cold, the heat of Florida wasn’t his favorite either.
Artemis II was finally launching and Alfred convinced his workers yet again to let them view it up close. They both watched all the launches that took place on their soil, but this was still a monumental achievement. It was the first time in a quite a while that Alfred’s face lit up with his smile. He looked healthier somehow too, like he was actually eating, yet it didn’t completely hide the stress just under his skin. Even now, watching his people lift off of the Earth and to the Moon again, his body was tensed. Things hadn’t gotten any better (much worse if he remembered anything from the flood of news on top of his own problems) — and that’s what concerned him.
Alfred was hiding something.
Not a lie, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to try that again, but a half truth. Something left unspoken.
After the launch, Alfred took him on a stroll around the visitor center nearby. He’d been before, but now it was stacked with information for the new program. Alfred grabbed his hand as they walked under the Saturn V, and Ivan’s heart spiked. Public affection was dangerous, and even now Alfred was looking around constantly to see if anyone was coming toward them. Despite that, he still didn’t let go.
Alfred usually rambled on the tours through exhibits like these, still teasing that he got to the Moon first. His silence now was deafening.
“Fedya?” Ivan whispered, gently shaking his hand. It took a few seconds for him to react and look over at him. Ivan led them over to the small food court and sat down on a bench facing Alfred. The spaced-out (ha) look in Alfred’s eyes stayed as Ivan put a chilly hand to his cheek.
“What is wrong?” Ivan asked. Even with that, it took an extra moment for Alfred’s eyes to focus on him.
“Feelin’ a lot of emotions from my people, s’all. Mostly good for once,” Alfred finally said. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes like there was no one else in the world watching.
“Do you want to head home? You seem…”
“Not yet. A nap sounds nice, though. There’s a wildlife preserve surrounding this place and a manatee pond, I’m sure we can find somewhere decent,”
Something was off and he had to find out what it was before it killed him.
He bid goodbye to Ivan at his embassy with a kiss and a long hug. Alfred wanted to linger for longer, but they already napped all cuddled up together. He didn’t want to give the impression that something was wrong. He couldn’t have Ivan cry over him again.
He hadn’t scratched since China found him at the end of January — that had to had been what else was upsetting him. Instead, when things got rough, he just rode it out and let the panic overtake him for as long as it had to. The panic started to linger longer, anxiety a constant companion near his heart. He was much less productive because of it, but it wasn’t scratching, so Ivan would be happy.
The other thing was food.
He still meticulously counted his calories to begrudgingly stay at maintenance, it was forcing himself to actually eat the meals he made that was the hard part. No matter how many spices or sauces he put in, they barely tickled his tongue. He covered all the mirrors in his house so he wouldn’t see the lack of progress. But Ivan looked happy, so it was fine. He just wouldn’t look down.
He made time for the gym instead, throwing everything he could without breaking the equipment at it. It felt good to work everything off after a meal, to try and convince himself it was muscle instead of fat. It was probably still fat, everyone could tell and everyone said it.
The food and exercise also gave him more energy to stay awake.
Since the war (it was a war. They said was. Congress didn’t, but they hadn’t really had that sort of power in the past year, so why now?) started, he had been plagued with nightmares from it. Of all the worse case scenarios, of upsetting the nuclear balance, of images of burning buses and schools blown to bits seared into his brain, of further isolation. No one wanted this but his Boss and his friends.
He could work longer too! Because nothing was stopping! Full steam ahead on the destroy-everything-and-hurt-everyone train! Fuck the forest service apparently, not like a fire season was around the corner! Who cares about mail in voting! Part of his government was still shutdown for so long his arm started to get numb! Whatever! Not like anyone could stop it! Apparently!!
Fuck.
He went to a protest a few days ago and it felt…good? He was surrounded by angry citizens making their voices heard, but he still felt the same deep seated fear. Was it enough? Will it change the tide? Was it too late? How much was his fault? He’s sorry.
He’s so sorry. God, he’s trying. Every time looked at the news he saw more death by his hands. Trying to stop them was like grabbing smoke. No one heard his voice.
He’s sorry. The wildfires will be out of control this year. Multiple states already called for drought measures and water use reduction. For the residential areas, of course. Not the data centers. He started to put on lotion for the skin already drying out, but part of him just wants to scratch it and let it flake off. Why should he get relief?
The Potomac calls to him. The waters were still cool this time of the year and he wanted to take another dive. But he still didn’t have the courage to make it successful where he wouldn’t end up in a hospital again. So he stayed dry and kept trying to help. Why does he always feel so weak?
He can’t ever breathe. What’s wrong with him? Why can’t he ever catch a break? Why can’t his body be normal? Why can’t he even try to do anything without feeling like he wants to shoot himself?
He saw Ivan again. He looked at him like he knew something was wrong, no matter how much he hid it. He couldn’t make him cry again. There was a sad look on his face when he left. It’s his fault it’s always his fault.
He’s been good. He didn’t scratch. He didn’t. He didn’t want Ivan to see him like that again. He wanted to, though. Wanted to sink his fingernails in and rip and tear his flesh apart until there was nothing but blood and bone marrow. What use was he if he couldn’t help his people and make those he cared about most happy?
“A whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again,” What the fuck. He can’t do this. He just has to let it pass because his Boss won’t actually commit but fuck he can’t keep doing this. His Boss is going to fucking kill everybody.
He knows it’s his fault but he needs help. How many more years? He’s sorry.
Every day drained him, but today was somehow worse. He had pulled off his sixth day in a row working with extra overtime and now he just wanted a break of any kind. It didn’t look like he would get one with the amount of legal work he took home again. He still had to force food down his throat and sweat it out after, too.
Alfred started up the stove, watching the pan and his food with one hand and looking for any way to block shadow docket court case decisions in the other. His brain felt as fried as the rice he was making, but he had to keep trying. Words glazed over each other and blended, not helped by seeing double now. Every day was a hallucinogenic nightmare again, not even escaping as he went to sleep. The pan clanged as his shaky hands tried to mix it, sending vegetables flying. He wanted to sleep, but he can’t.
Ivan <3
Ivan <3: What time were you getting here for anniversary dinner? (´∀｀)♡(´∀｀)♡(´∀｀)♡
Ivan <3: I made pelmeni yesterday so I just need to know when to boil them. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶
He —
He forgot —
The pan clattered onto the tile and the world went dark.
Alfred barely changed his phone habits after he broke his last one, so how had he not answered yet? It was annoying. Did he even remember? They had done this every year 133 times so far. Surely it must be ingrained by now.
With a frustrated sigh through his teeth, Ivan sat down on the couch and turned on the TV while he waited. It defaulted to the news (he tried to not show that he had some of the same vices) and —
“В Ващингтоне есть массивного отключения электричества,” The newscaster said. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t responded? It would be difficult to drive to the embassy with the power out. A satellite image appeared on screen and…Alfred’s house seemed to be at the center of the blackout. A blackout that was steadily growing.
Unease swirled in his gut as he teleported to his American embassy. The building was dark given the time and the disaster unfolding, but some of his staff were still around with their phone flashlights.
“Do you know what’s going on, sir?” One of his diplomats asked.
“No. It’s not from us, at least. I need to check on Alfred,”
“Do you want an escort?”
“We can’t draw too much attention. How are the roads?” Ivan looked out to the chaos outside, the air filled with car horns even within the building. Every traffic light was dead, locking everyone in place. Even with an escort, they wouldn’t be moving anywhere.
“They have emergency power back on in the metro to get people moving, especially since we don’t know where the outage came from. No storms or natural causes, at least. And it feels to big to be just a dead wire. Is it…can Nations do that?”
“I don’t know,” Yao probably knew, but…really? The metro was all that was left? He hated the metro. There were too big of crowds in too small of spaces — a perfect nightmare for him. But he had to get to Alfred. Come to think of it, the last time he was in the metro was also to help Alfred. He’d forgive him in time but…damn it.
Fine.
Ivan tried to steel himself going down the stairs, but he almost missed a step as he approached the sea of people. Any number of them could trap him or surround him and cart him off somewhere. He felt lightheaded as bodies pressed against him on every side. If Alfred wasn’t actually home then he’d camp out until all this was over and kill him after.
“Do you wanna sit down, dude? You don’t look so good,” One of the humans said. The seat they were in was next to the door so he could get out as soon as possible and wouldn’t be closed in on one side. Ivan managed a nod, letting go of the frost-covered ceiling handle. The passenger got up and Ivan slid into place, his thighs squeezing against the person beside him but otherwise better. It didn’t stop the walls from moving closer and closer, but the crowds problem was a bit better.
“Not a fan of subways?” The same passenger asked. Ivan shook his head and kept his eyes to the ground so he could ignore how small the room was getting.
The train took forever, inching along at a snail’s pace until he could finally get out. The stranger helped, but he was still glad to be out of there. It wasn’t a far run from the station at least, and Ivan could just follow the lights of maintenance cars to where Alfred’s house was. They were swarming all over the area, and Ivan found himself wasting valuable time trying to dodge out of sight. He wasn’t on his own lands so he couldn’t make himself blend in or brainwash them at all.
When he finally got to the door, the fact that Alfred’s truck was still in the driveway made him more panicked. Did he truly forget and fall asleep, or was he the actual cause of the blackout and got hurt?
“Fedya?” Ivan called into the house. It was eerily quiet as he crept through, his eyes adapting to the darkness. He rounded into the kitchen —
“Alfred!” Ivan rushed to his side and shook his shoulders. There was blood on the tiles near his head, rice and vegetables scattered across the floor. Nothing he did was waking him up: this had to be why there was the outage.
“Please wake up, please. Don’t leave me alone, you promised!” Ivan begged, pulling his unconscious body close to his chest. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t know how Nations worked! Alfred was hurt and he didn’t know what to do.
Yao. China. He had to know. He’s been alive for eons, this had to have happened before. He would know. He could help him.
Ivan pulled out his phone, the one hand on Alfred’s wrist just to feel his pulse. It was there, but weaker than he’d ever felt it before. What if he was dying? Was this how their kind went out? Don’t leave him alone again. The phone rang and rang but never connected. Every moment without help was another moment closer to when he might be gone forever.
He had to bring Alfred there himself. He could be dying. The shock from before was morphing into raw panic, enough that everyone else on the metro stayed a good meter away from him. He saw their lips moving, but couldn't comprehend anything they were saying. The ice spreading from him and dropping the temperature also helped in getting that breathing room. Or maybe it was the body he was carrying.
Person. Not body. Alfred wasn’t dead. He wouldn't leave him like this.
His vision was blurry with tears by the time he got back to his embassy. There was a subtle bite of pain when he teleported the both of them to China, but that didn’t matter. Alfred needed help.
Yao’s staff ushered him into a car and Ivan complied without a thought. He was barely aware of anything beside the weight of Alfred in his arms. They were taking a different route than normal to Yao’s home. Where? His friend would want to help, right? Ivan wanted to call him again, but he couldn't get his fingers to uncurl their grip on Alfred. His vision was spotty from the lack of oxygen.
Yao’s staff met them as they pulled up, giving them both a look over. Their brows were furrowed but they motioned Ivan to follow. That was easy, just something to do. Something to get him closer to help. Don’t leave him alone again.
When an ambassador called saying Ivan came into the embassy carrying an unconscious America and had blood running down his leg, he ordered them to meet at the hospital. His kit was good for home repairs and remedies, not whatever he was about to walk into. They needed actual supplies for this.
The description still didn’t prepare him for what he would actually see.
Ivan was sitting on the floor of the room, cradling America with one hand and hitting his fist on himself with the other. There were silent tears running down his face as he looked somewhere far in the distance. The room was freezing with his panic, but what was wrong with America?
Yao reached forward to stop Ivan’s hand mid-swing but pulled back when he was met with frost nip. Ivan’s magic was creeping around the room, covering the floor with a layer of ice crystals. He needed Ivan calm if he wanted a chance of getting America stable.
He let his fire hover just under the surface of his skin, giving some protection from the bitter cold Ivan produced. At contact, Ivan’s eyes managed to drift over to him. He could work with this.
Yao slowly worked his fingers in to break up the fist. The bruise was showing between the pale hairs on his head as a dark patch of purple already. There was some sort of teleportation injury as well, but Ivan would probably refuse to cooperate until his partner was okay.
“Can I get him onto the bed?” Yao asked. Ivan’s eyes slowly blinked, “I need you to let go so I can help him,”. Ivan relented and Yao grabbed America as he slipped from his grasp, eyeing the frostbite that settled onto his skin where Ivan was holding. He didn’t put on gloves as he moved America over, remembering how he reacted while patching up his back. Given that experience, he wasn’t excited to find out what his reaction to waking up in a hospital would be.
“…What’re you doing to ‘im,” Ivan slurred, dragging his body closer to the bed and trailing blood on the floor. Yao carefully put an IV bag in for some basic fluids in case it was an extended rest before turning to answer his friend.
“I’m making sure he’s comfortable and then I’m going to help you,”
“But Alfred needs help,”
“I care about you more and you’re also hurt,” He would’ve loved to call over someone else from their friend group for back up, but Arya was occupied with the war America’s Boss started and Ik-hwa would still hate to even consider helping her long-standing enemy. He tried thinking of who to contact on America’s side but…as of late, he didn’t have his usual band of friends and allies chatting away with him at the last few conferences. Maybe Canada?
Yao crouched and peeled back Ivan’s pant leg to reveal the splicing injury. It wasn’t the worst he’d seen, just…really, really bloody from how fast Ivan’s heart was beating.
“What happened?” Yao finally got to ask.
“I texted Alfred it was our…anniversary? Yes. I asked when he would come over. He didn’t respond. It made me angry. The news showed the power outage,” Ivan got out, stilted but understandable, “I dunno why he’s like that,” Well, that didn’t help much. Stress related maybe, but he wouldn’t know for certain until America woke up. He carefully put some gloves on with as little sound as possible and cleaned Ivan’s wound, his blood joining the countless stains already on the tiles from the decades he’s used the room.
“…Can you extended the bed so I can be near him?” Ivan begged.
“Fine, just don’t roll out of it and call me when he wakes up,”
“Thank you, Yao. I didn’t know what else to do,”
“You’re lucky I like you, then,” Ivan barely managed to make it into the bed, wincing when the bar landed on the fresh bandage. He teleported away to his home office as soon as the door closed.
What did he get himself into?
He’s glad they’re both safe, but he had never seen Ivan so out of it like that. He also never saw the power-outage effect happen either…right?
He went to his records cabinet; a detailed collection of everything he'd learned about their kind since he was young. There were notes from ancient empires across the world and from those that still remain. If a Nation was injured or sick somehow, he wanted to know about it.
A Nation fainting from stress wasn’t unheard of. It usually was after prolonged periods of little sleep after their magic couldn’t hold them up anymore. What was different now was electricity. It had been around for only century or so, making records scarce. Strong emotions could affect the environment given Nations were so tied to the land. Since electricity originally came from the Earth then affecting it wouldn’t be impossible. The satellite image of the (still growing) power outages seems to center on America’s house given what Ivan told him. If it went away once he woke up, that would be a useful note to add.
He had to find some sort of solution. Not because he cared about America, but because he could risk exposing their kind. Too many outages from the same spot would create a pattern. Yao made a preliminary note for now and waited for Ivan to call.
Ivan felt Alfred stir and slowly opened his eyes. When his brain cells connected to what that meant, he snapped awake and threw a hand over the IV. Alfred reached for it moments later with a snarl:
“Get off! Let me take it out!”
“Leave it!”
“What are they putting in me?!”
“I don’t know, but you should keep it in!”
“The fuck you mean you don’t know!”
“Alfred, please,” He just wanted him to be okay. His voice felt raw from the panic earlier and strained him as he begged, “Just trust me,”
Alfred clamped his mouth shut and stopped moving. Ivan knew he should call Yao to say he’s awake, but he wanted to talk first.
“Yao put the IV in. I took you to him after I found you unconscious in the kitchen,” Ivan said.
“The anniversary…” Alfred got choked up and actual tears formed in his eyes, “God, I should’ve drowned and stayed down last time. Why did I bother coming back up? I’m sorry,”
What.
“I thought it was a flashback?”
“In November. I went on a long walk and found a nice lake to sink into. But I chickened out and made you deal with me instead,” Ivan’s heart broke in two and there was a sharp pain as his heart moved closer to the skin. He did it again? He should've checked in with Matthew more.
“The anniversary doesn't matter, I just want you to be okay again,” Ivan sighed. He rubbed the center of his chest, trying to ease his heart back into place. An action he regretted since Alfred knew what that motion meant and he caught Alfred looking at it.
“Well, that's probably not gonna happen anytime soon since I’m in a hospital bed again,” Alfred wiped away some of the tears that had fallen, looking at them as if they were an alien thing, “And I don’t think it’ll get better. So if you wanna throw in the towel, I’ll get out of everyone’s way,” He sounded hollow and defeated. The faraway look in his eyes scared him as well, like he already made a decision. He had to do something before Alfred left forever, his heart can’t take much more of this before it comes out.
His heart…
“Why didn’t you leave me to die?” Ivan asked. They hadn’t really talked about the severe depression he had during the 90’s — hell, he could barely remember most of it. The last moment of clarity from the decade was on New Year’s Eve in 1999, when Alfred pleaded for him to stop jumping off of buildings and he felt all the scars Alfred gave himself while he tried to keep Ivan alive. He knew it was still a sore spot as well.
“Because I love you,” Alfred replied instantly.
“Did it hurt seeing me do that?”
“Of course. I sobbed more those last five years than the two centuries before,” Ivan waited for the puzzle pieces to click…there it was, “No, wait, this is different,”
“Why?”
“It just is? No one else wants me around anyway,”
“No one wanted me around then, either,”
“But — “
“This is how regime changes, or attempts at one, feel. Everyone hurts themselves or tries to kill themselves; even Yao has burns he gave himself. Our people are still our people, the land the same land, and we still can’t die,” He wished there was some sort of crash course in existence so they wouldn’t have to learn from experience.
“…Unless you take out the heart,”
“You do that and I will drain the ocean to find you. If you didn’t let me rest, then you can’t either,”
“Fuckin’ fine. Can’t argue with that,” Alfred sighed.
“Why didn’t you call this time?” He thought they had an agreement.
“Thought I was handling it. I didn’t really think this would happen,” Alfred trailed off…
…Again, he’s a Nation. He should be able to handle a workload like that. It was fine.
“Can you try and call me more often then? Even if you’re just starting to panic or something small?”
“I’m gonna be a lot more annoying though, like bugging you multiple times a day,” Ivan’s going to regret asking him to do that.
“Good. Take me away from my Boss and his shit for a while,” They settled into silence and Alfred pressed into Ivan’s side. The fucker sniped him with comparing it to the 90’s. Why did he have to have that stupid, smug-ass pretty smile on his face when he said it too?
Ivan called China in after a few minutes of quiet cuddling to calm his mind. He didn’t let go once China came in, the layer of distrust still strong.
“What’s in the IV bag,” Alfred demanded.
“Basic fluids in case you were out for a while,” China said as he removed the needle.
“What fluids,”
“I’ll text you the exact list. This is the second time this year I've had to fix you. Is this going to become a habit?” China asked.
“I don’t want it to be,”
“Good. Let’s start with the basics. What have you been eating? Or have you not been?” Ouch. Fair to ask at least.
“Regrettably at maintenance,”
“Sleeping?”
“No comment,”
“You need to comment. If I treat a Nation, I make a new record. Answer the question,”
“Fine, Christ. I’m avoiding it; maybe an hour or two a night,” He felt Ivan stiffen beside him and prepared for a long talk later.
“Any scratches? Let me see your back,”
“Uh — it’s fine. There’s none,” Ivan turned to look at him fully now, head tilted in confusion.
“So this wasn’t from stress?” He asked.
“Definitely was since I was so busy I…” He didn’t want to admit out loud that he forgot their anniversary. He never had before, this time everything just piled up. He thought they would drop nukes for fucks sake.
“Let's stop here for now, I have most of what I wanted,” China eyed the heart monitor showing a much higher reading than before, and left. With the IV out and China gone, some of the tension finally left his shoulders.
Now came the million dollar question:
“Are you — “
“I’m not. Just worried,” Ivan said, “I had to take the metro to get to you. And again to bring you here,” Great, he made him panic. On their anniversary. Good job. He felt the heavy ball of guilt in his chest sink lower and his throat tighten up.
“I’m — “ The word sorry got stuck in his throat and he had to choke back another sob, “I — “ Ivan just pulled him close and and Alfred could now physically feel how close to the skin Ivan’s heart was. If he scratched or didn’t, it all ended the same. Everything would get worse before it got better.