America sat upright on his couch, his blue eyes dull and empty. His new bodyguards stood behind the sofa, watching him like a hawk. He scoffed, "I don't get why you need to watch me in my own house!" He yelled, getting no reply. "I can take care of myself!"

The bodyguard on the left just gestured to my sprained ankle and sighed. Alfred looked at the crutches they had given him, feeling more shoddy than ever. He slowly stood, careful not to put much weight on his ankle. He grabbed the crutches and went upstairs. He sat in his bed, the two guards standing by each door watching.

He fell asleep after two hours of uncomfortable silence.

-The next week-

America had grown used to the constant surveillance and check-ins from his boss in the last week, though it hadn't been fun. They kept telling him to eat.

-Another week later-

Today was the day of the meeting, and America was practically frozen. He had to walk without his crutches, and one slip up could... He didn't want to think about that.

He got out of the car, setting his foot down. So far so good. He walked a couple of feet and almost stumbled. He caught himself and let out a shaky breath. The meeting was being held in England this time. He slowly approached the building, his anxiety climbing higher and higher.

He had gotten there early, so it was only him, England, France, and Canada so far. He made his way to his seat, his guards following and standing just behind him. Ever heard of personal space? He mused, fiddling his hands under the table. England was slightly unsettled by the men in black and moved his chair away slightly. "What's up with the guards?" Matthew asked.

"Just a security protocol dude," he said like it was no big deal. Others began entering and eyeing the guards. One shifted uncomfortably, not liking the attention. Alfred was no different, his nerves rose with every nation that entered. When Russia entered, he was visibly surprised but brushed it off. The meeting went on as usual until the end.

Prussia stood up and walked over to talk to Matt and Alfred. "Hey guys, want to hang out with the awesome Prussia?" He asked, giving America a light hit on the rib. The blond squeaked and the guard stepped forward. Prussia backed up, "You okay Alfred?" He asked in a small voice. The American clutched his cracked rib and winced as he breathed.

Ivan looked worriedly to him, wondering if he was okay. "Are you alright Fredka-"

"Of course! The hero is always in tip-top shape!" He said, putting on a smile a little too wide. Canada stood and Alfred stepped to the side.

(Bad choice.)

His ankle bent awkwardly and he almost yelped. He let out a breath and tried to walk. As he put pressure on his foot, he couldn't help the pained expression on his face. England stood up, "Are you hurt-" he was cut off by the guards speaking, "Mr. Jones has to leave now." A dozen nations stood up and began to argue with the bodyguards.

Russia watched as America hobbled out of the room, unnoticed by everyone. He swiftly followed and closed the door. He didn't see him in the hall, so he must have turned the corner. Sure enough, he saw him duck into a room, breathing through clenched teeth. Ivan opened the door and looked to see America hiding his face.

He heard the others spill into the hallway and entered the room and shut the door. Turns out, this was a closet. Alfred looked up to see Ivan's violet eyes in the dark. "Ivan?" He asked softly.

(This will be in Ivan's pov for a bit)

"да" I replied in a whisper, sitting down next to him. "Are you alright Fredka?" I questioned. He stayed silent, looking away. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my hand on his cheek and was turning his gaze back to me. I felt his face get a little warmer.

"Alfred," I said sternly, keeping his gaze on me. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine." He stuttered. I narrowed my eyes at him and he looked away. "I've just been..." He trailed off.

"You can talk to me."

"...I... I'm so tired of pretending."

"что?" (What?)

"I keep acting happy all the time but I'm..." He paused, looking into my eyes. For the first time, I clearly saw what he was feeling. His eyes became glassy like a doll's eyes, sadness pooling in them. I slipped my arms around him and pulled him in for a hug.

He stiffened slightly, before melting into it. I felt him begin to shake with all of the repressed emotions he had struggled to hide. But he never sobbed, just shook. I began humming a calming melody into his ear, noticing him begin to relax. An authentic smile pulled at the corners of my mouth.

I stopped humming and pulled out of the hug, looking back into America's sky blue eyes. I had a feeling he was smiling in the darkness. I remembered that the others were still looking for us and the smile fell from my face. "We need to get you out of here," I said, helping him to his feet, he whimpered as he stood, faltering a bit. "My ankle..." He said quietly.

(Okay, back in the third person)

Once the hallway was empty, Ivan walked out into the hall holding America bridal style. Alfred blushed, "You didn't have to carry me like this..." He muttered, but still held on. The Russian snuck down the hall, carrying the American like he weighed nothing.

They heard shouting down the hall and took off. Ivan was surprisingly quick for his large structure. The pair turned the corner just as the others reached the other end of the hall. They saw Russia's scarf for a moment before it was pulled out of sight.

Ivan rushed out of the building, seeing a black car rushing towards them. He instinctively ducked into the nearest ally and ran. America watched as a couple of fast nations were gaining. He knew he was strong, so he lowered his foot just enough to kick the fire hydrant. Water burst from the giant dent he made.

The nations halted, some getting thrown back from the pressure.

America laughed victoriously, feeling more alive than ever. "Good job, Fredka!" Ivan praised, making the blond blush. "Thanks, " he replied.

//////

"Where did they go?!" England yelled, catching up to the others. Japan, who was soaked from the fire hydrant, shrugged, wringing out his jacket. Canada was deep in thought, wondering why his brother didn't seem to be bothered. He actually looked pretty normal. He thought when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over to see France with a troubled expression.

"Matthieu, we need to talk"

//////

America must have dozed off while Russia was carrying him because he woke up in an unfamiliar house. He was wrapped in a fur blanket in front of a crackling fireplace. He saw a note next to a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He picked it up, along with the mug.

Dear Fredka,

I had to go shopping, I will return shortly. Do not answer the door. There is more hot chocolate in the kitchen if you want more. Be careful.

From Ivan

Alfred blushed lightly, sipping the liquid chocolate. He hissed as it burned his tongue. He blew on it a couple of times before trying again. It was amazing! He had a hard time not slurping it all down. He smiled and sipped the drink as he watched the flames lick at the bricks.

He didn't even realize that Ivan had gotten home until he heard him clear his throat. Alfred turned to the Russian and blushed, raising his mug. "This is the best hot chocolate ever."

-Five minutes later-

America was drinking his hot chocolate as Russia put away the things he had gone out to get. Then his phone rang. Alfred jumped, the cocoa sloshing in his cup. Ivan muttered a quick apology and walked into the next room to take the call.

America heard his hushed voice and what sounded like England over the phone.

//////

"Don't worry, I'm just taking care of him. You'll get him back eventually..." Ivan said, hanging up shortly after. England had trouble not shattering his phone into bits. His little brother was with that commie by himself. Who knows what could happen. A hand rested on his shoulder, comforting the frustrated/worried Brit. "It's fine we'll get him back."