#the fact that there is some extra space above russ's head

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[scribbling-stiks]

AAR - XI - Road Block

Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, New Mexico, New Hampshire, Wyoming, and Philippines get their things prepared and thrown into Delaware's car and America makes sure that his group is packed and ready to go. Russia helps shove food and water under the seats in the cars, tossing extra fireworks and guns from under Alabama's seats into the truck bed with the luggage.

"We are leaving in the morning," America announces. Russia nods along beside him. After the bags are packed, and Dixie ran out and got some more clothes for them to pack, Russia relaxed in the middle of the blankets, and the states and provinces join him as the sun sets and the temperature drops.

America squeezes in between Russia and the Dakodas and snuggles up into Russia's side.

"Don't want you to be cold," America says.

"I'll keep watch with Jersey," New York volunteers.

"Okay, sounds good to me," America says before tucking his face into Russia's chest.

The warmth feels good against the cold winter air that leaks through the doorframe and walls. The states get closer.

Soon, Russia finds himself at the center of a pile of states and provinces smushed together and fast asleep. Russia strokes America's hair calmly and watches New York walk around, his footsteps echo strangely against the walls.

New York sits on the stairs and removes his leg.

'WHAT?!'

"New York?" Russia mutters, voice full of confusion.

New York looks up, a little startled before he calms.

"Yeah, Russia?"

"*Your leg?*" Russia asks.

"*Oh, I lost it. I'm fine,*" New York replies flippantly.

Russia hums in acknowledgment, but questions still float around his head. Eventually, he shrugs them off.

Russia looks down at America on his chest and smiles. He snakes his arms around America's waist just under his shirt and pulls him up.

'He feels so warm.'

America mutters into his chest and curls his arms up to his chest. Russia smiles and closes his eyes. He drifts off, warm with America on his chest. He wakes up a little while later with soft talking in the background and America shaking.

"America?" Russia whispers.

America whines.

"Meri?" Russia asks, and he runs his hand through America's hair gently. America opens his eyes and tears stream down his face.

"Are you okay?" Russia mutters.

America shakes his head, hiding his face. Russia's heart clenches. He reaches down and traces shapes on America's back and hums lullabies he remembers from his childhood. America calms down and tilts his head.

"Thanks," America mutters.

Russia nods and continues humming, his eyes pulling themselves close.

When he wakes up again, it's to conversations surrounding him. Opening his eyes, he sees that the pile of kids hadn't moved from around him, but they had begun to talk with each other. What they were talking about, Russia isn't sure.

Russia sits up with America in his lap and rubs his face.

"Hi, Russ!" West Virginia chimes.

"Good morning," Russia replies with a yawn.

Russia pets America's hair and smiles. America shifts.

"Hi," Russia mutters, brushing America's hair off his face.

"Mornin'," America mumbles, burying his face into Russia's chest. Russia smiles.

"We have to get going," Russia says, beginning to stand up. America whines and tries to pull him back down.

"But I don't want to get up," America complains.

Russia sighs and shakes his head. He begins trying to detach America's arms, and America tightens his hold. Russia chuckles.

"Let go," Russia says, gently trying to pull away. But even as he tries to keep his tone serious, affection still leaks into his words.

"Fine," America grumbles, letting go and sinking into the blankets that Russia had been lying on. Russia smiles.

'He's cute.'

Russia gets himself ready to leave, and California and Kentucky are trying to get Arizona to finish getting dressed. He fixes his hat over his bedhead and walks back over to the blankets to see America still curled up on the blankets, his eyes poking up above the edge, watching him. Russia meets his eyes, and America ducks away. Russia smiles.

"Come on, we need to leave," Russia says, and America pouts.

Russia leans over and reaches his arms under America's arms and hoists him up to his feet.

"Ruusssss...." America whines.

Russia smirks.

"Get ready or I will leave you here," Russia threatens playfully.

America scrambles away, hurriedly trying to get changed.

Motion catches Russia's attention and he speed-walks over to California, who is holding a fireball.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks.

"Yeah, Ari is just being, like, a brat," California complains, pushing the human-sized fireball away from herself.

The fireball cackles and pulls away from Califonia, flames soaring behind her.

"ARIZONA! Put yourself out this instant!" America screams, "You could burn everything we have here!"

The fireball stops and the flames smoke before disappearing, leaving a pouting Arizona in their place.

"Alright y'all, my group is all packed up, and Fee is driving," Texas says from the doorway.

"Does Phil have the keys?" Delaware asks.

"Yeah, he's already got the car started."

Delaware flashes a thumbs-up before turning back to help Dixie and Virginia make breakfast.

Then, Russia is pulled into a hug by someone from behind him.

"We're good too," America says, "Tuck finished packing."

Russia smiles and hugs America's arms.

"Okay, then what are we waiting for?!" Arizona calls from the doorway and Russia smiles.

They walk over to the truck and America takes the driver's seat and Russia hops into the passenger's seat.

'Let's go.'

Their destination is a sketchy looking motel at the mid-point between the safe-house and the base coordinates New York had given them before leaving. They had to make it to Utah tonight and try not to get stranded.

Russia is driving when the sun begins to disappear over the horizon. His left hand stays on the wheel and America holds his right, talking to him about how rockets work and how space was so amazing.

Russia tries to remember as much as he can and tries to reply the best he can. Some of the English words are strange: like "quasar" or "blazar" or a number of other words that didn't translate well. Trying to repeat the words sounds clunky and wrong. Even still, he notices that America just seems happy he's taking an interest, so he keeps trying to ask anything that comes to mind.

But after a bit of talking, America suddenly stops. Russia glances at him and sees him look away, upset.

'Did I say something?'

"What's wrong?" Russia asks.

"It's nothing," America says, "I just figured I was annoying you."

"Annoying me?" Russia repeats incredulously, "No, you weren't. What made you think that?"

"Most people say I get annoying when I get too excited, so.." America mumbles, waving his hands as if to finish his sentence.

Russia glances up in the rearview mirror at the kids for a reaction and sees most of them look sad as if this isn't the first time they had heard this. His heart clenches.

'Have they had this conversation before?'

"Well, they're wrong," Russia replies, squeezing America's hand, "What you have to say is interesting, and the fact that you know without a reference is amazing."

"...really?" America asks.

"Yes. Not only that, talking about it makes you excited. What else would I want to hear about?" Russia says, turning to give America a caring smile before turning his attention back to the road.

There is a brief pause in the conversation as America plays with Russia's fingers before fitting their hands back together.

"...do you wanna hear about supernovas?" America asks nervously.

"Of course," Russia says with a smile, "tell me all I need to know."

Apparently, he needed to know everything. But that's okay.

America enthusiastically explains the classifications of supernovas and nebulas, and Russia listens, trying to commit the words to memory.

'This is important to him. I should remember as much as I can about what he's talking about.'

They spend hours talking, and Russia wouldn't have traded it for the world. Eventually, America quiets, instead just messing with the radio or playing with Russia's hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling them apart. Russia smiles, but only briefly.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up and he searches around for the source with a furtive gaze. America sits up in his seat, noticing the change in expression.

"What's up?" America asks cautiously.

"Something is watching us," Russia replies.

America nods stiffly before scanning out the windows for a threat.

"What's going on?" California asks.

"Just fix your seatbelts and whatever you do, don't get out of the car," America says, magic sparking at his fingers, "because there is definitely something watching us."

Russia puts both hands on the steering wheel and grips it tightly. America picks up the radio. "Get ready, something's following us. For now, just keep driving and keep your distance in case we have to stop," he says.

"Got it," Wyoming replies.

A pair of yellow orbs glint from in between the rocks.

His grip tightens and he stares at the road, refusing to give the creature his attention. It's footsteps begin to shake the ground as it runs alongside them. Russia scowls and tenses.

Then, something jumps out from the cliffside a few dozen meters from the car. Russia slams on the breaks. America is already halfway out the door, scythe in hand and baring his teeth.

"It isn't going to let us pass without a fight. Cali, stay here with your siblings and tell the others to cover us. Russ, you're with me," America demands. Russia yanks the emergency brake and the truck screeches to a stop.

Russia dives out and slams the door, racing behind America before the truck had come to a full stop.

The creature is gangly and its head is that of an emaciated deer. Its skin stretches painfully over its protruding ribcage, and it stood around 7 meters tall.

It tries swiping at America, but Russia intercepts, grabbing its arm and slamming it to the ground.

Crack!

The thing goes tumbling for a meter or so before scrambling back up to its feet with an angry roar. Gunshots ring out around him and Russia quickly looks around at the chaos behind him. The rescue group had fanned out, shooting into the rocks at several pairs of eyes surrounding them.

"Hold it steady," America screams, the blade of the scythe raised high above his head. Russia lunges at the monster and grabs the creature's neck. It thrashes, and America charges with a battle cry. Russia jumps back to avoid the blow.

The creature shrieks in a tone that makes Russia's ears ring before beginning to dissolve. Then he hears growling around them.

"We gotta get outa here!" Alabama yells.

The circles of headlights growing brighter against the rocky walls around Russia. He spins to see California and New Hamshire in the cars, racing to them.

The rescue group scramble into New Hamshire's car and Russia grabs onto the truck, too impatient to let it stop, wrenching open the passenger door. He jumps into the seat and turns around, grabbing America by the hips and pulling him onto his lap. He slams the door shut as soon as America is inside. California speeds off, tires squealing, with New Hampshire on her tail.

America pants heavily, leaning his head against Russia's sternum.

"You okay?" America asks breathlessly.

"Yes. Are you?" Russia replies, his heart still hammering out of his chest.

America nods.

"Are all you kiddos okay?" America asks, turning to California.

"Yeah, we're good," California says with a sigh before grabbing the radio.

"Did everyone make it back to your car?" California asks into the radio.

"Yup! We're all good," Mississippi chirps.

America breathes a sigh of relief, and They speed off, out of the rocks and back under the stars.

~

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