The Game
Six

Location unknown
Date unknown
Time unknown

"Look, it's us," America said with a laugh, indicating to the television. Russia looked up from his tablet for a moment to see what the younger nation was talking about. On screen, a woman with short blond hair who appeared to have a cold was conversing with a man who had just brought her flowers. She called them "friendly".

"How do you mean, дорогой?" Russia asked.

America gestured at the blanket he was covered in and the tissues he'd thrown on the coffee table and the floor. "You know. 'Cause I'm sick. And you're kind of a dick, like Tom Hank's character."

"What a fitting comparison. You are just as blond and clueless as this boring movie's pitiful excuse for a female lead."

America threw a pillow at him and told him to shut up and they continued to watch in silence. He thought that he could feel Russia staring at him, but didn't want to look. That might have made things weird. Well, weirder. America hadn't told Russia that he was feeling under the weather. The older nation had just shown up with a pot of weird but delicious (not that America would ever admit that) soup. And they had proceeded to just… Hang out. Not fight. Not hook up. Just… hang out.

And that was really, really weird. But America supposed that Russia was decent enough company (oh who was he kidding. His stomach had been doing butterflies since the Russian walked through his front door).

They did not speak again until the movie was nearly over. It was America's favorite scene; he couldn't help but mouth the words.

"Don't cry, shop girl. Don't cry."

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

"Is this what you think love is like, America?" Russia had asked as the happily ever after played out and the credits began to roll. His voice was child-like and quiet. America's heart swelled uncomfortably and a strange sense of déjà vu passed over him.

America usually scoffed at the mention of love. Sex was great; being romantic on occasion could be fun, but love? He tried not to think about it. He knew things were as good as they were going to get between the two of them, so why mess it up? He was going to give his normal too-cool-for-that-girlie-shit response, but he couldn't bring himself to. So he just shrugged and changed the subject.

Later that evening America had woken up to an empty living room.

But on his coffee table sat a fresh vase of sunflowers and a note.

A-

Much friendlier than daisies, da?

-I

11:04 PM, Japan Standard Time

Turkey finally found Greece, who had busied himself petting stray cats outside while he waited for Turkey. He rolled his eyes. Of course that's what Greece would be doing during a crisis. He wouldn't be surprised if he had been sleeping the entire time Turkey had been searching for him.

"Hey, kid, what the hell are you-"

"Good. You are both here," a quiet voice said behind him. It was Japan.

Greece smiled and hugged the shorter nation, which made Japan blush furiously. Turkey narrowed his eyes, not having any of that.

"Get yer hands off him, kid," he told Greece. But in all hone+sty he wasn't sure who he was upset with, Greece for touching someone else so intimately, or Japan for appearing to like it. Greece just shot Turkey a sexy (Not sexy. Annoying. He meant to say annoying) grin and didn't move. Turkey crossed his arms over his chest and turned away from them, drumming his index finger against his arm anxiously. He had some figuring out to do.

"Sorry I am late," Japan said as he politely removed Greece's arms from around his neck. "I could not get here any sooner as I was being detained by Belarus."

"What does that crazy bitch want?" Turkey asked, happy to have something to think about other than his odd adoration of Japan and his even odder lust-hate for Greece.

"She is trying to kill everyone and marry Russia," he said calmly as if he was talking about the weather and not a psycho hostage situation.

"Sounds like a normal day for her," Greece said with a yawn. "What did you call us for?"

"She has America, and many of the other nations. I have a plan to rescue them all but I need your help."

Turkey rubbed his face and let out a long sigh. He didn't have a beef with Belarus, and he could honestly care less about the other nations. Japan was safe. And he supposed he was happy that Greece was safe as well, so what did he care what happened to the others? They were the ones dumb enough to be caught by her.

"You can count on me, Japan," Greece said, voice sleepy but oh so sweet. Turkey narrowed his eyes once more, and he was certain a vein was about to burst in his temple as well. Two could play at that game.

"Yeah, I'll help ya, too," he muttered.

Outside Krasnoselskiy, Belarus
8:16 PM, Eastern European Time

Spain had been driving for nearly a half hour when he noticed a small grey figure in the distance. He slowed down and tried his best to peer through the heavy snow to see if it was someone in need of help. He hoped it wasn't his poor Lovi; the Italian nation couldn't stand this sort of weather.

The closer he got the more he realized the figure was too short to be South Italy. And there was a tiny creature walking with him as well, although he could barely make it out through the thick swirling flurries in the air.

He came to a gentle stop and rolled the window down.

"Do you need help?" he had to yell to be heard over the wind. Suddenly, a small little white face appeared outside his window. It was a bear. He stared at it thoughtfully. Didn't that bear belong to someone he knew…?

The figure, a small boy wrapped in a thick coat, tried to pull the bear away from the car. "W-we're fine, thanks."

"Sealand?" Spain asked. "What are you doing here?"

Sealand would have blushed if his face hadn't already gone blue from the cold. "I'm on an im-p-portant rescue m-m-mission."

Spain laughed heartily. What a cute kid. "Same here! I think my dear friends may have gotten stuck in the storm so I'm on my way to save them. Why don't you join me?"

"I c-can't. I've got to go s-save everyone from B-Belarus."

"…Save everyone?" Spain asked, worry slowly turning into fear.

"Hostages," Kumajirou grumbled helpfully.

"Sealand, get in the car," Spain said, all signs of friendliness suddenly gone from his voice.

"I don't need h-help," Sealand tried to protest, but Spain had already pulled the two of them in through the open window and thrown them both in the backseat.

He gripped the steering wheel so hard he couldn't feel his knuckles anymore. If Belarus had harmed Romano she wouldn't even be able to beg for mercy when he was finished with her.

When they arrived at Belarus's estate, Sealand tried to follow the nation inside but Spain stopped him before he could even get out of the car. "Wait out here," he said quietly. "I will be back soon."

Sealand tried to protest, but Spain engaged the child safety locks. He turned around in the front seat and gave Sealand a fake, almost evil smile. "I've heard there are scary monsters that live in these parts that like to eat children, so you will stay in the car, comprende?"

Sealand gulped and nodded.

Satisfied that he had frightened the boy into obeying him, he picked up Kumajirou and headed towards the mansion. Once inside, he pulled a perfectly ripe tomato out of his pocket and held it up to the bear. Kumajirou sniffed it but turned his head away.

"Not food," he grumbled. "Don't wanna be here."

"It's not for eating," Spain said, ignoring the complaint. "Follow this scent. We have to find Lovi."

8:27 PM, Eastern European Time

"Try to stay calm, Matvey" Ukraine pleaded. "I'm absolutely certain that my brother is taking very, very good care of America!"

Canada shook his head. "I know you love Russia, but he's not trustworthy. Didn't you hear what he just told me? 'America isn't quite himself at the moment'? How am I supposed to take that?"

"I know that sometimes Vanya doesn't always… Express himself very well, but he really does have America's best interest at heart!" She looked down, eyes welling up with tears. "I don't blame you for hating him. I just wish that I could prove it to you. You don't know Vanya like I do. He is always a different person after his visits with America. Well, not that I get to see my brother all that often, but- but-" Ukraine couldn't take it anymore and broke down in tears.

Suddenly, they heard light footsteps from the hall. Canada slapped a hand over Ukraine's mouth to try and muffle her sobbing. Ukraine did her best to settle down, and neither dared to speak.

"…should have put them in the basement years ago…"

It was Belarus.

"Big brother is so pleased!" she giggled and began to skip, her steps growing faint. When they could no longer hear her footsteps, Canada let go of Ukraine's mouth, his hand shaking. "Did… did you hear that?" he asked.

She nodded and began to worry at her lip. "Maybe… Maybe it's some sort of misunderstanding," she said weakly.

Canada sighed. "We don't have time for this. We've got to help everyone. I thought you said Belarus never uses this wing?"

"She doesn't… usually… But there is a hidden passageway up here, at least there used to be. Maybe that's where she's…" her voice trailed off. She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

8:13 PM, Eastern European Time

"I feel fine," Hungary had lied as she forced Austria to take the antidote; he had been too weak to protest. Hours later, she sat with him, running her fingers through his hair affectionately. She hummed an old song as he slept. His breathing, once ragged, had finally slowed down to a peaceful rhythm.

Prussia paced the room like a caged beast. "You're an idiot, Hungary!" he shouted at her for the millionth time.

"I didn't drink as much. It affected him so quickly! What, was I supposed to let him die?" she snapped.

"Well now you're going to die!" he screamed.

"What do you care. All that matters is that Austria is going to be fine."

Prussia stopped pacing. "What do I care? What do I care? Fuck you, Elizaveta." He turned away from the two of them, so cozy on the couch. He stared out the window; it was so dark outside it could have been midnight for all he knew.

Small arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Prussia stiffened. They were never nice to each other. Why was she acting like this? He shook out of her embrace. "Don't," he said quietly, not looking her in the eye. "We're going to be fine. Quit being such a little girl."

Any other time Hungary would have hit him for that remark, but she just laughed a little, eyes welling up with tears. "Keep him safe, ok?" she asked, reaching for Prussia's hands to give them a squeeze. He didn't pull away.

"What are you talking about," he asked.

"I am going to find the others and get help."

Prussia tried to protest but Hungary shushed him. "I know this house far better than you do," she said quietly. "Just watch over him until I get back, please?"

Prussia sighed and nodded. Hungary slipped out into the hallway, fighting against the pounding in her head.

8:30 PM, Eastern European Time

Russia refused to look at the nation who sat beside him, knocked out cold from the chloroform. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that they had been on a romantic night drive, and America had just passed out from all the excitement of the day and all the good food in his belly. That was something that they did in the movies, wasn't it?

"Well, let me ask you something. How can you forgive this guy for standing you up and not forgive me for this tiny little thing of... of putting you out of business? Oh, how I wish you would."

No matter how many twists and turns the plot would take, at the end the lovers would always come together, misunderstandings forgotten and any animosity they may have felt now a distant dream.

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

They could have gone for a walk and gotten ice cream. Or maybe just sat at a coffee shop and people watched. And then after a while they would go home… Oh but they'd have to stop at the store first to get some detergent or something because they were out and down to their last pair of socks. That's what normal couples did, right? And then they'd curl up together in front of the fireplace, and probably argue about something dumb, and then they'd drift off to sleep. He'd wake up sometime around two in the morning and carry the smaller nation to bed. Of course, when Alfred woke up the next day his masculine pride would have been wounded and he'd insist on carrying the Russian around the house for a while, just to prove he could…

"And you and I would have never been at war. And the only thing we'd fight about would be which video to rent on a Saturday night."

"Well, who fights about that?"

"Well, some people. Not us."

"We would never."

"If only."

It would all have been so… Nice.

Things always ended up well in those silly movies his American loved so much.

It was too bad real life did not end up that way. Russia supposed he was destined to always be the bad guy. Still, it had been nice to pretend for a while.

.

.

.

"I knew it wasn't... possible. What can I say, sometimes a guy just wants the impossible."

Wow. So it's been a few years, huh? I'm sorry I haven't been active in ages. I had been through a horrible break up in the middle of working on my stories. Then I met my wonderful husband, and now we have an almost one year old! So. Life has been crazy. But now that our little one let's me have some me time now (lol) I can finally get back to my original love: fanficssssss. *_*

Random: I'm really sorry if You've Got Mail isn't your favorite movie, because that movie is so amazing and (obviously) it's playing a bit of a role in this fic. Hope you can still appreciate the references/correlation between the two couples.

Historical notes that will never help you in class: Hungary was occupied by the Soviet Union for 45 years after WWII. That is why Hungary is so familiar with Belarus's mansion.