Russia walks out and sees America sitting on the steps, chin on his fist.

Russia opens his mouth to try to speak, but nothing comes out. He tries again, but he finds his voice had been reduced to a shallow whisper.

"...Meri?" he rasps.

"Oh. Hey, Russ," America says, staring into the trees.

"I'm sorry," Russia tries to say.

"What?" America asks, looking up at Russia.

"I'm sorry," Russia tries again, but still, his voice doesn't cooperate.

'So I could scream before and now I can't talk?!' he thinks, frustration bubbles up from his throat.

America chuckles.

"Sounds like your screaming messed up your voice," America suggests.

Russia looks down.

"Sit with me?" America asks, patting the step next to him. Russia takes a seat.

"Sorry for snapping at you," America says, "you're stressed and upset. I just saw myself on the other end of the phone and I...I freaked out. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I should've been more on your side, and I am. I'm so happy you decided to stay with us."

America puts his head on Russia's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Russia forces out before he hunches over in a coughing fit and America pulls away. He clutched at his throat.

'It burns.'

'But I have to apologize.'

"I shouldn't have. You were-" Russia is cut off again by another fit of coughing.

"Hey, don't hurt yourself," America says.

An iron-y taste paints the back of his tongue.

"I forgive you. It's okay. I'm here," America says.

They sit quietly, and America returns his head to Russia's shoulder. Then, America shivers.

"Let's go back inside," America says quietly, "it's getting cold."

Russia stands and helps America to his feet. America takes his hand and smiles. Russia pulls him up and they walk back inside the building. Russia heaves open the door and they walk in hand in hand.

"You know, your dad's probably just worried about you," America mutters.

Russia nods before making grabby-hands at a nearby pad of paper with a pen attached to it. America giggles and grabs it, handing it to Russia.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Russia writes, "I will call my father once I can talk again."

America smiles. "Sounds like a plan," he says.

Russia looks around at the others and sees the dirty looks they're giving him. He looks at his shoes and America steps in front of him.

"Hey, he's fine! He's fine," America defends, standing in between the states and Russia.

A few more scowls are shot his way, but nothing more. Russia looks down again and America leans up and pecks him on the cheek. Russia freezes up and his eyes shoot to America's proud smile.

Once he faces America, America grabs his face and kisses him. Russia's eyes shut and he leans in. America pulls back. Russia pouts playfully and America smirks. Russia swiftly recaptures America's mouth in a deep kiss and nibbles on his lip.

"Hey, not in front of the children!" Dixie scolds, and Russia pulls away, red-faced.

America pulls him down and kisses him one last time before fully pulling away, retreating with a smirk. Russia crosses his arms and tries to calm himself down. America giggles before pulling him by his hand over to the pile of things against the wall.

"Help me sort 'em out?" America suggests, waving to the pile of miscellaneous supplies.

Russia nods, and America begins handing him different items, and Russia tries his best to neatly stack them up against the wall. Dixie and his group leave soon after Russia and America had come back inside, leaving in his truck to get more supplies.

Russia focuses on stacking the cans so they wouldn't fall over, unknowingly sticking out his tongue in concentration. He turns to America giggling.

"You're adorable," America says, kissing Russia on the forehead. Russia is reduced to a flustered, blushing mess.

"Hey Dad, check this out!" Massachusetts calls from behind them.

America stands up and turns around, and Russia turns as well out of curiosity. He sees Massachusetts summoning a mass of green magic that solidifies in his hands. Russia watches for a few more moments before standing up and walks behind the state.

As expected, the magic explodes, sending Massachusetts flying backward. Russia readies himself and catches Massachusetts before he hits anything less forgiving, like the brick wall behind them. Massachusetts stands up and brushes off imaginary dust, his face a little red.

"Thanks," Massachusetts mumbles.

America smiles.

"Are you trying to summon something?" America asks.

"Yeah. But it isn't f***ing working," Massachusetts replies with a scowl. America chuckles.

"Well, is it something you used to use?" America asks.

"I mean, yeah."

"So imagine you're using it again," America says, extending a hand and summoning light blue magic, swirling in the shape of a long pole. Then with a faint flash, a scythe appears in America's hand. The shape starts as faintly transparent with a bluish tinge.

"Think about what it looks like and how you would use it. Then summon your magic and solidify it. You can't just imagine the shape or else it won't solidify the way you want it to."

Then the object solidifies instantaneously. The tool itself towers over America's head, and the blade reflects incoming sunlight in an almost blinding gleam. Russia's jaw drops.

America meets his eyes and smiles.

"You like it?" America asks.

Russia nods, wide-eyed.

"I'm going to make them regret messing with my kids," America promises to him with a bright smile, but the look in his eyes makes Russia pause. America's eyes looked bloodthirsty and angry.

'The angel of death.'

Russia stares at the startling image in front of him.

"And once you solidify it," America says, turning back to Massachusetts, "It doesn't take any magic to maintain as long as your touching it."

Massachusetts nods, returning to experiment with his own magic.

America smiles before spinning the scythe around. He stands with a smirk, surrounded by an arc of light blue.

'Show off.'

"OOH OOH!" Florida cries, "Cut this!"

Florida tosses a water bottle from behind America. America spins and slices it in half, using the weapon as an extension of his arm. The only reason Russia knows that the water bottle had actually been cut was when the two pieces separate hitting the ground and the water splashes everywhere.

'Oh.'

America lets the scythe go, and it dissolves before it hits the ground. Then America saunters over to Russia with a confident smirk.

'Confidence suits you.'

"You enjoying the show?" America asks. Russia nods enthusiastically.

"Hey, y'all! Come and get stuff outa the truck!" Dixie shouts from the door.

The states rush out of the door and have a competition to carry as much as they can inside, Dixie and Canada follow behind them, picking up the dropped items.

Russia takes his seat in front of the stacks again, and America helps sort through the groceries. America starts tossing cans over to Russia, and Russia catches them, quickly stacking them together.

Russia reaches his hand up, only for the can to hit him on the side of the head.

'Ow!'

Russia turns to glare at America, only to see he isn't there.

"Meri?" Russia mumbles, and he begins to look around. Then he notices the chaos in the middle of the building.

Cheering and chanting rings out, and Russia walks forward and sees America and Canada trying to separate Louisiana and Quebec. Russia walks in between the two and holds them apart by their shoulders.

"LET ME GO!" Louisiana shrieks.

Quebec replies with something Russia doesn't understand, but it does have Canada start scolding her, so he assumes it isn't good.

"Thanks," America says, "and Louisiana! I told you not to fight with your cousin."

"But she ____________________________" Louisiana rebuts, ranting in what sounds like French.

America stands by and crosses his arms with a scowl. Louisiana quiets and looks away.

"Alright Russ, you can let 'em go," America says.

Russia releases their arms and left America and Canada to deal with the kids. After a good scolding and sending Louisiana to a corner, America walks back over to Russia.

"Thanks for splitting that up," America says.

Then America looks at Russia a little more closely and his eyes go wide.

"Are you okay? What happened?" America fusses, grabbing Russia's head and tilting it around to get a better look.

"Oh! Wait just a second," America says, and he swiftly grabs a notepad and pen and shoves it into Russia's hands.

Russia accepts it and begins to write.

"You threw a can at my head," Russia writes and flips the pad around for America to see.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I got distracted," America says. America gently grabs his face and places a gentle kiss on the bruise.

Russia freezes up.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to the butterflies.'

America turns his attention elsewhere as if he didn't realize how much of a blushy mess he had left Russia.

"Bama, your truck better be clean!" America calls. Alabama nods, a little panicked, and he rushed outside with Mississippi on his tail. America sighs.

"That kid," America mumbles, in an exasperated, but loving tone.

"It ain't too bad, Pops," Georgia says encouragingly. "You might find a stray firework or three under the seats though," she warns.

America snickers into his hand at the warning and waves Georgia off with a "thank you."

Russia can't help himself and he wraps his arms around America, and America smiles, his face growing bright pink. America tucks his arms against Russia's chest.

Russia smiles proudly.

'See! I can make you flustered too.'

America is reduced to a giggly, blushy puddle that Russia finds himself carrying. Russia smiles and stares down at the adorable man in his arms with hearts in his eyes.

Russia hugs America to his chest and closes his eyes, nuzzling into his hair. Fluttery feelings fill his stomach, and Russia can't help the even wider smile that forces itself on his face.

'How could one person be so cute? It should be impossible.'

Russia tightens his hug and spins around. America wraps his arms around Russia's back. America's legs lift slightly off the ground and America laughs into Russia's shoulder.

Russia slows his spinning and peppers America's face with kisses and America laughs.

"Stop!" America giggles, playfully pushing Russia's face away.

"Y'all two are bein' way too sweet," Dixie says, shaking his head.

Russia grins and nuzzles America's forehead. America giggles before turning to Dixie.

"We can do what we want," America says with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

Dixie shakes his head.

"Y'all do know y'all have to pack your bags, right?" Dixie asks.

"That can wait," America says flippantly.

Dixie rolls his eyes, but Russia notes that he can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. Russia pecks America's forehead before releasing him.

"Aww...come on," America whines. Russia pulls away and picks up the paper.

"We need to prepare to leave," Russia writes. America groans.

"You're no fun," America says with a pout.

Russia just responds with a smile.