2

                                    

                                          
TW: implied/referenced abuse, knife
"Who's there?" America looked around. He was in the middle of the forest. At night. It could be some serial killer or some shit. "Show yourself."
I heard the shuffling of footsteps. Then it stopped. "I said fucking show yourself."
"...there's a fence here." Wait... America recognised that voice. Wasn't that... America walked towards the voice.
"Russia!? ...what the fuck?" There where two things to see here. One was the obvious, Russia. Standing in front of him, but between them was a giant chain-linked fence. Extending on either end as far as America could see, with a shit ton of barbed wire sitting at the top.
"America." Russia bared his teeth like a wild wolf or some shit. He was always so fucking weird like that.
"Well, happy as always to see me I suppose." America exclaimed, always as obnoxious as possible for yours truly. Cause you see Russia was an asshole. He was always mean and cocky to put it simply. At least that was what he was like before he got taken out of school. Didn't seem like he'd changed much.
"So what are you doing out here?"
"What are you doing here!?" Russia responded overly aggressively.
America examined Russia he didn't have a jacket and looked really cold. He also looked kinda roughed up, like he'd been in a fight or something. To be honest his overall appearance just looked kinda... worrying. "Dude, are you okay?"
"Of course, why would you think I'm not!? I'm fucking great!!!" His body language didn't really seem to enforce that idea. His head was ducked and his arms wrapped around himself tightly.
"Jesus Christ, no need to be so aggressive." America rolled his eyes. "Seriously, is there something wrong? Are you okay dude?"
Russia thought for a moment... then let himself sink down to the ground, leaning against the chain-linked fence. His expression faltered a little from his default scowl. "I think he hates me." Russia didn't know why he started talking about this particular problem in his life. Probably because it's the one USSR would get least angry for.
America tilted his head to the side, "Who?"
"Well- everyone pretty much does, but uh... Ukraine, my brother." There was silence between them for a moment. "I just want what's best for him. I just don't want him to get hurt by папа. Or anyone else." America could hear his voice cracking... "that means father or... daddy or something by the way."
"I... know what you mean. I mean not about the whole daddy issue part.. hehe." His bad attempt at humour didn't really seem to work for the Slavic country. "Uh-but yeah... I know what it's like. My dad always says." America put on a squeaky voice and accent to impersonate Britain, "'you know, you're the oldest America, chap! You need to be a good rolemodel and make more money, mememememe-'"
Russia giggled and a slight smile appeared on his face. "No daddy issues huh?"
A wave of self-consciousness suddenly hit Russia and the smile was wiped off his face instantly. "I- uh, forget everything I just said." 
"I uhm, I better go." I looked cold and small (despite his tall figure), what was wrong with Russia? Why was he even out here in the first place...
"Hey Russia," fuck America couldn't believe he was going to ask this. "Do you... want or... do you want to come to my place?
- -
Russia looked at America, flabbergasted. America was,,, inviting Russia to his house? USSR wouldn't like this. But then again, he was the one who threw Russia out here in the first place. And it was really, really cold, Russia looked at America. There was also the chance that this was all some sick joke or something. This was America they where talking about after all...
"...I can't get through the fence."
"What?"
"The fence. You know, the one right in front of us."
Americas face lit up. "Oh!" He put his hand into his pocket and fished around for something, pulling out a Swiss Army knife. He then climbed to the top of the fence and cut away the barbed wire, then dropped down again, stumbling over a rock and landing on his ass, making the experience allot less badass and Russia cackle at him.
"Ugh," America rubbed his backside. "What happened to your cute little giggle."
Russia mediately went back to scowling. "I'm not cute." 
"Jeez, moody."
Russia started climbing over the fence, and dropped down in front of America.
"Quite the athlete, huh?" America said.
A very, and Russia means VERY light blush creeped over his cheeks. Luckily America didn't notice, he just grabbed Russia's arm, right where his father had grabbed it, presumably to lead him to his house.
Russia hissed. "You good?" America turned to him with a concerned look on his face.
"Y-yeah, just a bruise.. cause I uh... tripped on tree stump.... And landed... on my arm." Russia was looking at America for too long. Russia was usually a better liar... he didn't know why something about America just made him nervous and all fluttery inside.
America raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay?" He turned back towards the path. "Anyways, let's go. It's fucking cold out here."
Russia nodded silently.