The next day, or more rather, the next night, Russia shows up to America's house and it's storming outside. The snow's all hitched up and it all came so dang fast. America was glad that Russia was able to get to his place in one piece, but then again, this was Russia.

But Russia wasn't looking too hot himself, "Yo, Russia, come in, you made it," America beckoned him in when he opened the door, quickly resorting to pulling Russia in when the winds suddenly picked up. 

"Spasibo," Russia thanked when he was in the comfort of the warmth of the American Manor. He hung up his coat and wiped off his boots in the foyer and was invited to America's fireplace-lit living room. 

The two sat across from each other, America in a recliner, Russia on the couch. Something solemn and grieving was emitting from the Russian man and it was eating away at America, reminding him more of the terrible things that could've and must've happened to Amelia.

"What happened?" America asked, "You look like...someone died," he quickly shut himself up. What kind of phrase was he to use like that?

"I hope," Russia whispered, "that she didn't."

America looked up, "Wait, 'she'? General Western Russia? Anya, right?" he quickly tried to remember the Russian Hetalian that came in with Amelia's recording. That's her, right?

Russia slowly nodded his head, "Da, she's...she's just like your general. The first one that got kidnapped."

America's heart jumped. He slowly reclined toward Russia, sitting on the edge of his seat, "The same as they're both hyper and loyal or," he dared say the other one, "...kidnapped?"

"...Da," Russia looked away, casting his eyes down upon the fireplace, "She's gone. Anya's gone."

America watched the tears drip out of Russia's eyes, his own feeling misty as well. America felt his body sink back into the recliner, all they could hear is the popping sound of fire crackling and short, strangled, and ragged breathing. Russia leaned down to his knees, burying his face in his hands. He's showing this side of himself to America again. Memories of when America walked in on him as he crumpled to the floor and the reaction and help America had shown always shook him. Yet, it still surprised him when he felt America's hand rest on his scarred back.

"You," America tried to make his throat-clearing and minuscule sniveling as quiet as possible, "wanna talk about it? Y'know, to see if we can figure out anything," pause, "together."

Russia slowly drew his head up, dewy, crystal-like, violet eyes staring widely at America. He noticed how the leftover tears on his lashes dotted like sad stars. After blinking a couple times, those sad stars sliding off and joining the rest seeped into his coat, he started talking.

~~~~~

Anya and Tori had gone on a partner mission to take care of a boating problem off in between Tallinn, Estonia and Helsinki, Finland. Anya's cousin and General Northern Estonia, Emily, had said that the 2p Hetalians are probably taking advantage over the heavy fog of this day. It's winter and this fog is ridiculous, really. Sailors and shipments that go through the Baltic Sea are not coming back or not showing up at the Finnish ports or the Estonian ones. There were 2p Hetalian spottings. So Tina, also known as General Southern Finland, is at the Helsinki ports, while Emily's at Tallinn's, with the Hetalian squads at ready for capture. Anya and Tori's job is to round them at the ports in the same boat.

They had Hetalians from their posts in the boat with them and they headed out in the thick of the fog.

"Transports have stopped temporarily for this to work," reported a female, brunette Hetalian. She rounded up a few Hetalians on this mission through a Wattpad chatroom, which would've been the last place a 2p Hetalian would hack and check.

"That's good," Tori sighed, checking the radar on the ship (conveniently named on the system, 'SS Rusliet', but the Hetalians onboard multishipped, so it didn't matter) for other vessels. Which, none were to be found, "I seriously hope that this fog isn't messing up the systems. It's kinda thick for winter and on the Baltic Sea. When's the last time it happened?"

"Um," Anya stared off into the fog, her nearly-white brows creasing, "Never?" she gave a heaving sigh, "I dunno, I'm not from Tallinn, let alone Estonia. Everyone knows that. How could I've known about major fog records down at North Esty's place?"

"Esty?" Tori did a tired chuckle, "She's still the only general you call Esty."

"Well, of course!" Anya's brows rose like the nickname was obvious, "Emily is my baby cousin and she deserves special attention. Not that you and Raven don't get any. You guys can have nicknames if you want!"

"Nah," Tori whispered to the gray mist, "We already call you 'West Rush' and Raven didn't like being called 'Latte'. Especially when you accidentally called her a 'Frappuccino' next."

"Mm," Anya hummed smiling as they continued to scout the area for the 2p Hetalians, "I wonder if they're even out here. It's kind of dangerous to even be out in this fog."

"No, General Northern Estonia said that they chased a big group of them into ships onto the sea," next a blonde haired male Hetalian responded, reading off of a clipboard.

Anya nodded to him, everyone squinting through binoculars into the misty sea. Nothing from as far as the eye can see, unless you're talking about fog. Anya was getting a bad feeling that they could've escaped into some other place, like leave the Baltic Sea and into the Russian landform. She sorely hoped that wasn't the case, because she was here in the sea and not there.

Suddenly a bright flash whirled passed them like a moving searchlight, "What was that!?" Tori yelped.

All the Hetalians onboard guarded themselves up, carrying the weapons that they've bought long ago in July. Fireworks. Sparklers. Yes, they still weren't using military-issued weaponry. Reason being for this is so that way, the Hetalians on either side of the bay could see them, hopefully, if something bad were to happen.

But right now, that was the least of their worries, "Do any of you see anything?" Anya called over to the deck, she and Tori scramble down to.

Everyone shakes their heads, still staring into the fog. The searchlights multiply and five more of them sweep over then, settling to point directly at them. The source of these lights draw closer and six bigger boats, small ships even, come out of the fog in their radius. It was a 2p Hetalian fleet and they were surrounded.

"I thought," Tori choked, "that Esty chased one group into the sea," her eyes watched all the dead-looking 2p Hetalians come out onto the decks of their ships, "Where the heck did they get all of these ships? And unnoticed?"

"Russia," Anya breathed, "They all came in from Russia, look," Tori took the binoculars that Anya handed her. Prominent stereotypes of Russian attributes appeared all over the people and within the ship. In fact, most of the references lead to the Soviet Union and some, well, most had posters of Hetalia logos with big bright red x's on them. 

"And you didn't see anything about this?" Tori whispered frantically.

"They must've come out of a homeward port! All the community ones are under Hetalian and military surveillance!" Anya said back.

"Surrender your generals and we'll leave your ship unharmed," a Russian 2p Hetalian spoke monotony into his megaphone. 

A couple of Hetalians glanced at said generals, as Anya and Tori think of when to open fire. They watched as the 2p Hetalians lower in position long black items, aiming the points at them. Shotguns. They're armed. 

Hetalians don't use regular weaponry since the huge majority of them don't even have licenses. Most of them are cosplayers, some introverts, others extroverts, authors of the internet, artists of fanart, all that jazz. So they're unexpectedly good at using what they have to defend what they want.

The 2p Hetalians watch them lift up weird duct-taped cardboard boxes. Tori and Anya spied the gunpowder barrels from the 2p Hetalian ships and smiled. Tori took out a lighter while Anya prepped a marshmallow on a fork. The Lithuanian general lit the marshmallow on fire and, holding a slingshot, which the 2p Hetalians couldn't see (glaring at them suspiciously), the Russian general launched the flaming marshmallow into the air, landing into one of the gunpowder barrels. One of the ships explode, forcing its members to jump out and swim, which the Hetalians were ready for, catching them in nets from the water since the blast shoved the human bodies toward them. 

The 2p Hetalians try to open fire but struggled with all of the ships being rocked by the blast. The Hetalians take advantage of this and start firing the fireworks and other American b-day novelties. They gave the enemy no time to react but didn't kill them either, some were injured, which they hauled up by the net. 

That was up until they didn't see the ships coming up from the sides and people jumping into their ship. 

...then started a little pirate battle...

...then jumped back into their ships and left them all alone in the fog.

"General West Russia! General East Lithuania! The enemy has-" the Hetalians look around, "Where's West Rush and-"

~~~~~

"'She's gone'," Russia repeated sorrowfully, "Anya was kidnapped to save Tori from being shot," his head dipped, "she cried. There was no other way to avoid casualties," he stood up from where he sat, seeing that the snow had died down, "We have the 2ps that have been captured from the battle and ready to interrogate the next morning. I want to be there personally," with that and a pardoning to America, he left.

America couldn't help but sit there for the next half hour before the fire was put out by the rushing cold wind.