A House Divided Cannot Stand 3

Alfred sat in the car, pouting like a child. He had settled himself in the far back because the Russki sat beside Arthur. Who knew the Brit was such a fucking pussy? He even treated the Commie-Socialist-Bunny with a degree of respect. Even Alfred wouldn't sink that low man! Even with all the guns of the USSR's Special Forces trained on him, ready to kill him at a . . . moment's . . . notice . . . Fuck his life.


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Ivan looked out the window warily, his mouth set in a thin, grim line. He was in a Capitalist country, which meant they wouldn't treat him nicely. Still, he would not cower to their brutality. What neither of the Capitalists knew was that he had specifically told Spetsnaz to not fire by any means unless he was dead. They would, also, not interfere in any interactions between him and the civilians of the country. He would face it strong, and be the responsible one as often as need be.


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Arthur glanced at the two worried. The aura in the vehicle was tense and near suffocating. He could tell by just the way they sat. Alfred was crossing his legs and held them tight to his body, in no way relaxed. Ivan sat in a more relaxed form, but he was ready for even the slightest of hostile movements to come. In a Not-Meant- to-be-Funny way, it was amusing. What Arthur worried more about were the other children. Especially those who had family in the Soviet occupied areas. Being an international school, the students had the option of wearing sleeve covers that were in the design of their home flag. Alfred hadn't worn his until this day, a wave of irrational jingoism hitting the boy. To counter the gesture, and against much well meaning opposition, Ivan wore his Soviet Union band. The crossed sickle and hammer under the gold-outlined star was sewn with gold laced thread that reflected the light when hit just right.

All the teacher could do was pray. He had no part in this minor war.


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Alfred had many reasons to hate the Communist bastard. One, he was all anti-democracy and everything! Two, he was a villain from just being born in Russia! He must have been brainwashed since he was born! America NEVER would do that to its young minds! And three, the Vietnam War. Rumors were that Russian Special Forces were out in North Vietnam training the Vietcong. True or not, he would hold the Soviet blame on this kid's head. Mostly because he was the only Soviet he could blame right now.


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The car pulled into a parking space, and even before it came to a complete stop, Alfred was stalking away. Arthur was sure he went looking for his brother who had been staying the night at Gilbert's house. Their relationship was a suspicious one, but that wasn't anything he'd be a part of. Besides, Arthur had his own secrets, such as one involving a lewd French teacher during prep period. With a sigh he turned to the Russian who now looked a bit wary, but a determined fire still burned in his eyes.

"Ivan?"

"Da?" the boy asked, turning promptly to the inquiring voice.

"Will you be alright?"

"Da. Of course."

With that, the teenager stepped out of the car soundlessly, tossing an end of his vibrant scarlet scarf over his shoulder and striding onto campus.


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The moment Ivan stepped into the courtyard, all went silent. Sure, there were Chinese, North and South Koreans, even Vietnamese students; but none from Russia. While the others were simply accepted as being there, Russia was the heart of all evil. Russia wasn't 'Just accepted', it was scorned. Even China didn't like the Northern Soviets, finding them Un-Communist. Hence the score board was One verses Everybody Else. And the latter team was casting sideways glances at the new student. Ivan's heart pounded in his ears from anxiety, but he kept his composure. After he brief pause at the gate, he continued to march into the premises, despite the daggers being hurled by the other students.


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Alfred found his brother with Gilbert. The albino was so narcissistic and loud, he and Alfred got along alright. And the German had a thing going with his brother, but Alfred didn't mind. He wasn't homo, but nor was he homophobe. The two weren't doing anything nasty yet, but he didn't really want to know when they did. And FINALLY the Canadian was coming home. So what if their mom was a border hopper? They were on a plane at the time, okay? There, explains everything! The American twin glomped his younger around the waist, being totally melodramatic while doing so. "Matti! The worst thing in the world has happened! You will never believe it in a million years!"

The quiet one jumped in surprise before looking over his shoulder to the sobbing American, "What happened Al? I thought you were excited to meet the new exchange student."

"BUT HE'S A COMMIE!"

"WHAT!" Gilbert gawked, hatred gleaming in his eyes. He had been one of the lucky few who got there asses out of East Germany when they had the chance. Still, he had family there, specifically his younger brother Ludwig and father Frederick. This inbred into him a deep, coursing hatred of the Russians. It suddenly dawned on Alfred that saying that was possibly the second worst thing in the world. And it possibly would be the cause of death of all three of them. Ivan by Gilbert, and Gilbert by Spazz-nazz (or whatever it was called), and Alfred after Gilbert for letting him kill the Russian . . . okay, let's face it. Ivan was an ambassador. Gawd damnit! That made it all legal and stuff so it underlined even more the importance of the ashen haired boy's life.

"Uh, hey, Gilbo. I-I think you shouldn't go all homicidal on his ass though," Alfred muttered, sort of vague.

"And why not!"

"Yes Alfred, why not? I believe it would be quite zabavnye."

Red eyes hardened to meet playful violet while blue and lavender eyes widened and glanced between each other.

The bell rang. None moved. Students on their way to class noticed the dead lock and drifted over, pulled by the tension mixing with their own hormonal discharges. A ring slowly gathered around the four, the twins slowly inching into the throng to appear as bystanders. It wasn't silent though. The two blondes had hoped the entire thing would blow over with a death threat from Gilbert, but he was easily encouraged. The other students around him goaded him on.

"Get that Commie bastard Gilbert!"

"Show that Soviet who's boss around here Beilschmidt!"

"Show that fucker the door man!"

"Make that Commie bitch run back to Russia with his tail between his legs!"

Gilbert smirked that devilish grin as he cracked his neck and dropped his backpack on the concrete. "You got it. This lil Commie's gonna be sorry he ever fucked with me." He made it as a promise.

Alfred prayed to god that nothing would happen . . . too badly. As much as he hated Ivan as well, he sorta, kinda, needed the Red alive.

"And yet I was not the one who threatened bodily injury was I." It was a statement, not a question.


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The bell rang and Gilbert lunged.