My Beloved Pet

(A RusPrus FanFiction)

[WARNING: Yaoi & BoyxBoy action involved; slight USUK, major RusPrus, slight mention of past PrUK]

He entered into the city hall for the meeting with a chain dragging behind him. He found the room on the left and poked his head through the doorway with the usual smile on his face. He spotted America sitting at the table on the far side of the room alone. He rested his chin on his right hand, tracing a circle on the smooth, wooden surface with his left index finger, probably bored out of his mind.

"Hello!" he exclaimed to the young blonde, who's head shot up at the elder nation's accented voice.

"Oh," he said half-heartedly. "Hey, Ivan." Russia fully entered the room and held the chain in his hands behind his back.

"I'm so glad you're here, Alfred. I have something to show you."

"What? No way!" America screamed, springing from his seat and blowing up in Russia's face. "Is it a cool new toy? One of those new remote-controlled helicopters or something?!"

"Heт," he answered. "Is much better!" He showed America the chain in his hands. "I got a new puppy." He tugged on the chain and an odd-shaped creature stumbled through the door.

America's large, giddy smile disappeared as soon as the shape was made clear to him. "Ivan," he started, "that's not a dog..." He saw that the creature had white hair and underneath a shaggy mat of bangs were glowering red eyes. "Is that...Gilbert?" The albino looked up at his name being mentioned. There was a cloth tied around his head and across his mouth so he wouldn't talk. The chain in Russia's hands lead to an iron collar wrapped around his neck real snug.

"Hmn?" Russia hummed as he looked down at his feet where his scarlet-eyed friend crouched next to him. "Что? When did he get here?" Without hesitation, Russia reached down and pulled hard on a strand of Prussia's snowy hair. Prussia made a screeching sound, but it was muffled by the white cloth removing his ability to talk.

"Uh...Ivan?" America spoke up. "Why do you have Gilbert on a chain?" Prussia grumbled a one-worded question in agreement.

"Well, he was being a bad boy. So I decided he needed punishment," Russia replied with a smile. Altogether, it wasn't so pleasant as the evil, violet aura cascaded down upon him slowly.

"That doesn't mean you should drag him around with you everywhere you go on a chain as if he were your own pet!" America spat at him, making Prussia flinch, but Russia stared back at America with no trace of a blink, his expression suddenly serious.

"But when a dog is being naughty, you must scold it," Russia replied with another tug on the hair of his albino pet, who growled at him again.

"He's not a dog!" America exclaimed. "He's not an animal! He's a human being like me and you and...well, like me!"

"I know-."

"Then why treat him like a stray? Might as well take him to the animal shelter where they'll keep him locked in a cage the rest of his life!"

"Actually," Russia started to reply in a slow, deep voice, "I was going to do just that." Prussia looked up and a muffled, high-pitched squeal came from his throat. "But instead of taking him to the shelter, I was going to lock him in my basement." Russia tugged on the chain as he strode farther into the meeting room and sat down in his usual chair. Prussia followed helplessly along like a lost puppy; the sad look he gave really made him sell it.

"You are sick," America admitted, "and inhumane. Is this what your people do in your country? Kidnap others and lock them in a cage in your basement?"

"In a cage?" Russia repeated. "We don't have that service in Russia. All they get is a small room with concrete walls and no windows, with little food and water...but I bring special cage from special place in depth of Siberia."

And right as he'd said that, England had strolled into the meeting room with a black briefcase in his right hand and a dark blue blazer draped over his left shoulder. He raised his thick eyebrows real high and gaped at Russia, who gave him a "sweet" smile and wave of the hand in return. America turned to see England standing in the doorway and ran up to him.

"Hey, Arthur!" he exclaimed into his ear. England snapped out of his shock syndrome and yelled back at America, who laughed at him.

"Ivan," England said, "what were you talking about exact..." England looked down and noticed a strange man with pale skin, shiny silvery hair, and vibrant scarlet eyes; he looked pained. "...ly...? Who is that?" Prussia cocked an eyebrow at him and growled in disagreement. How could he not remember him?

"Dude," America answered, "that's Gilbert. Y'know, Prussia?" Britain raised one bushy caterpillar eyebrow and walked over to where Russia sat at the table and the strange man, who went by Prussia, sat at his master's heel. He had left his briefcase in the doorway for anyone else (hopefully France) to trip over and his blazer had slid off his shoulder ages ago.

He reached out towards Prussia's face, but was interrupted by a slap to the palm. He looked up at the culprit, who was none other than Hell's Truly.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Russia asked with a smile.

"I was taking a closer look at your...pet," England replied slowly and gently, as if talking to a child. Russia nodded his approval and England continued what he started.

He took his index finger and lifted Prussia's head so that his face was looking towards the ceiling. Finally,something familiar struck his memory from when he was out at sea as a pirate. This "Prussia" was the annoying cabin boy who had worked for him at first, but quit soon after to become a pirate himself. A rather lousy pirate, England thought. Had I taught him nothing?

Prussia whined and his mouth moved behind the cloth. Then, his eyes widened as his memory was struck as well. This was the once-powerful British Empire he used to work for! Facing him now as some weirdly-dressed, sucky Englishman. What happened to him? Where was the man in the large feathered hat and fancy robe-like cloak he once knew? He'd quit his job for this guy to become a great pirate himself. He wanted to destroy him; he had been a dickhead to him and never treated him as an equal like he should have been.

Without taking his eyes off of the silver-haired man, England smiled as he told the proud new owner of Prussia, "Better watch your back, Ivan. He's no good; he'll just quit being your pet and leave you. He's nothing but a lousy cabin boy." He saw Prussia's brows furrow and he smiled even wider. He suddenly remembered what happened between them that one stormy night at sea. He had shown him the real dominance of a pirate, but he still hadn't understood and went off to be his own swashbuckler. What an idiot.

"Uh, Arthur?" America suddenly spoke up. England looked away from Prussia and over his shoulder at America. He straightened up and walked over to where America still stood. He placed a light hand on the small of his back and guided him out of the room.

America gave him a questioning look when England leaned into him and whispered, "I recognize him."

"Who?" asked America, as naïve and innocent as always. "Ivan? We all know him, Artie."

"No, you git! Gilbert! He worked for me once, when I was a pirate."

"Whoa, what...? You were a pirate, Art? Sweet!"

England put his index finger up to America's lips, shushing him. "Yes, you bloody idiot! He was my cabin boy..." He thought back again to the incident that happened between him and Prussia on his ship. He was a drunkard and Prussia was an inexperienced peasant. Not exactly worth the lesson.

"Wow," America said through England's finger, which was pulled back quickly. "So he, like, worked for you?"

"Yes, but he did a lousy job. He was a terrible pirate as well." He almost laughed at the ridiculous display Prussia tried to unveil many, many years ago.

"What did you look like as a pirate? Did you have your own crew? Was the ship huge and cool?! Did you get all the girls, dude?" America wouldn't shut up. And because of England's impatience and short temper, he swat at him and accidentally clocked him on the nose.

"Sorry, America," he reassured his younger ally.

"Ow," America replied. "What happened to the gentle, father figure I used to know?" His blue eyes shone with admiration and some tears swelled up.

England took a step back. "I'm sorry, America. Are you okay?"

"No! I miss you, Arthur. A lot...also my nose hurts. I think you broke it."

"Don't change the subject, you git," England answered, stepping back towards America and kissing his nose.

"OW!"

"You're such a baby, Alfred..." America looked up at England with sad puppy eyes and he couldn't help his next move. He was just too adorable and when he made that face, England would easily give in and do whatever he wanted.

England leaned in and pecked America on the lips. He didn't seem to mind and just rested his head on Britain's shoulder. England pat him on the back softly and secretly adored this new, caring side of him.