Title: No Laughing Matter

Author: The Emcee

Pairing: mild RusAme

Summary: "After the fall of Communism…Russia didn't know what to do. When he sucked up his pride and asked America for help, America laughed." What if America didn't laugh?

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: This is based on a work of art I found on DA. It's not mine, the phrase quoted in the summary, but someone else's. It just inspired me to write something so I did. R&R. Enjoy!

~…~

No Laughing Matter

~…~

This had never happened before. He always knew what to do, no matter what was going on around him. War, both internal and external, poverty, bloodshed…he always knew how to handle it and did so accordingly. Never before had he been at such a loss. It was new to him and it frightened him more than anything else ever had.

Just think of it; Russia, frightened.

Words that had never before been said in a sentence now fit well together, as though they had been old friends. He didn't know what frightened him more: that, or not knowing what to do now.

Russia was no longer Communist; his people had turned in the red they used to wear so proudly for something else. But what was that something? How could one handle going from being imprisoned to free so suddenly? What did it mean to be free in the first place? How did one go about becoming democratic? How did one go about reorganizing a country and rebuilding it?

Only one person could answer his questions, at least, that's what Russia hoped. Just one person.

America.

Russia had always seen America as stupid, arrogant, and stubborn. He was always preaching about freedom and democracy and about the 'American way'. And Russia, being just as stubborn and arrogant as America (only he had realized this too late), had always laughed at him and believed him to be weak and inferior. Yet America was not the one who had fallen during their Cold War. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, America had remained strong and stood proud and unyielding while Russia crumbled into pieces.

If anyone would know what to do with new found freedom, surely it would be America.

Swallowing thickly, overcome with more emotion than Russia would have liked to have been, he picked up his phone and began dialing America's number. It rang once, twice, a third time… Just when Russia thought that America would never answer, he did.

"Hello?" came America's voice over the receiver. Russia opened his mouth to reply, but the words became caught in his throat. He choked. Tears began to bristle in his violet eyes for reasons he didn't fully understand yet and that worried him.

"Is anyone there?" America asked.

"Amerika," Russia finally said, his voice sounding dry and rough and cracked as he choked.

"Russia?" America said, sounding both surprised and tired. Russia didn't blame him; he was surprised that he had actually made the call and was definitely more than a little tired.

"Da…it's…it's me," Russia said softly.

"I…I heard the news," America said, sounding a bit nervous himself. Russia was half relieved that he had, but he was also dreading the American's reaction for what he was about to ask.

"I…I need your help, Amerika," Russia all but pleaded, his voice soft, lost, frightened, and desperate.

He expected America to laugh at him. He expected to hear an arrogant 'I told you so' accompanied by mocking laughter. He expected American curses and taunts and jabs and merciless insults. He expected condescension and hatred.

What he got was not what he had expected.

"Look, Russia, I know…that things have been strained between us for a while, but if you need my help, I'll help you in any way I can," America told him with nothing but honest truth, sincerity, and concern in his voice. "I know what it's like to need to rebuild yourself after…a lot has happened to you."

It was so much more than what he had been expecting. It was so much better than anything he had thought he would receive. The hand holding his phone began to shake along with his shoulders. Soon, his entire body was shaking uncontrollably. Even after everything that had happened between them, even after so much time had passed, America was still willing to give him aid whenever he needed it. A gigantic rush of relieve began to surge over him, drowning him in its wake.

And, for the first time in a long, long time, Russia openly wept.