RusAme-Timeline life

Russia smiled at the TV. He sighed, getting sleepy, the thing hadn't gotten off the ground untill 12:30 the last night. He started hereing America was planning to do the same on the TV, he listened, but just how confadint America was that he would get a human in to space amazed him. He smiled, he loved him, but would give him a run for his money, right? He called his boss, telling him to authorize test on animals and if they worked, humans. He gasped, but agreed. He would be spending hte next moth at the space staion, watching serveral dogs get killed, they altered contindtions and testing, untill the dog lived. He smiled. He lost the cold war, but mabey he could win a race.
((=-=.....))

((No, seriously, what's wrong?))
America quickly went to work and they started this thing called 'NASA' which he forgot what it stood for. They were starting to build their own things and America observed from a distance. He would totally get to the moon before Russia did. Sure they would still be in Space together, but he would get there first. They were just going to skip the animals and go straight to humans, but the people at NASA didn't like his idea very much and said they should start small, simulate on how they're assuming space would be like.

Russia watched them work, gmiling sheets of somthing being added. He wanted them to work faster. He had a dumper full of dead dogs and wondered when one could make it. Finaly, a dog, susrived the test. They speed up the building of the craft. He watched again, waiting as the thing started the lift off. He smiled, it got about 300 ft in the air before falling back down. He sighed as the thing came crashing back down. And rockets were not cheap. He sighed and walked back in, the wokrs crying becuse of there work failing. He just told them to mak it better and work at it again. He shifted and he watched the thing start over again, makin them work 24 hour days and shortened brakes. He finaly waited again, the next rocket went up, no dog, a sailite, for data they could use. He smiled this one wokred. They got amazing pictures of space, the thing telling them all they nedded to know to sned someone up

America pulled all nighters waiting for them to finish with the pressure simulator and building the actual rocket. They used, rats, cats, insects, anything they could get their hands on. He heard some rumors that Russia had actually sent something to space and he punched the wall in frustration, but then his anger subsided, Russia might be the first one to send something to space, but he would be the first one to land on the moon. His old goal of sending something into to space forgotten and a new goal set. "Forget sending something into space, make something that'll land on the moon!" they all gave him looks and said, "But, sir, we can barely send anything into space without it running out fuel or the specimen dying." America grinned and said, "You gotta keep trying, you want your names to be in history books for eternity!? Do it, be motivated! No one's gonna kick our ass in space!" they all cheered with new determination. America grinned and was excited, he would defiantly have something to brag about.

Russia sighed, the satalies needed a enitre team to manage. He started to look at the data, the stars and the galaxies gimlling. He smiled though. ONce again, they workes got the day of the launch off, they al wated outside in wait. The intercomes blared up, and the rocked once again started to lift off. The dog barking. It lifted off, flawless. The russians had a dog in space, but that didnt so much. All they had to do now was make to space bigger and he could send a human. He wanted to beat america at the race. Just becuse he though he had to be the best didn't mean he had to take it away from russia. He smiled, a moth later, a human sat in the cockpit of a new rocket. And like all the times before, the lift was flawless. The human orbaited in space, the scrams of the poeple were almost to loud. They got data, and they left him in space for about a week. On the last day before he would return, and all the workes had gone home. He heard somthing over the intercom, it was from the rocket. He gasped, he was screaming, that there was fire, the oxagen tanks had caugh fire. Russia felt his heart snap. The rocket would not be able to come down untill tomarrow. He sat the rest of the night listaning to the first human ever in space burn to death.

America had heard on the news how Russia had already launched, but that the human inside burned to death. He would have to learn from his mistakes. The rocket was finished, but they had yet to test it, he was a bit nervous, they asked him if he wanted to go and of course he could agree, but his fear overlapped his excitement. What if they got lost? It's not like they had a map of something, or what if their oxygen tank set on fire like in Russia. He didn't want to think about it, and he wasn't going to tell Russia he was going to space either. If he did go and succeeded then then he would have bragging rights for decades to come! He couldn't sleep that night. In the morning they gave him a suit and it was heavy! He didn't know how long he would be in space for, it could take years to get to the moon, he didn't know how long it would take. People cheered as the team entered the rocket and he wave his stomach did flips, he would beat Russia to the moon, that was for sure, he could feel it.

Russia didnt move when he heard the screams from the radio stop. He just sat, in the same chair he had been for the last 3 hours. He knew that now there was no oxygen, A dead Russian body would be floating in space for ever, never rotting or changing, the same burnt pile of ash that he had been turned to. He watched the first few workes come in. they Cried for a few seconds, and got back to work. He wished that he could go to space on day. He gave everyone the day off. He would end up sending another human to be killed. He just sat in the chair, listanig to the siliance on the other end of the radio. He folded his arms and sobbed, he worked for death now. He stood up, drawing new plans and making pereration for tomarrow. He turned on the radio, and Heard what America was doing.

America continued to feel the fear in the pit of his stomach. What if something went wrong? What if he would never see Russia again because of some competition? He entered the rocket he was instructed to strap in. He was beyond scared, but the other seemed excited, Neil was his name? He would be spending about a year with him and the team, might as well get to know them. Neil asked, "You got someone waiting for you back at home?" America smiled and said, "Yeah, a beautiful Russian." he said, The other laughed a bit, "Hope this didn't race didn't make it hard on your relationship." America blushed, what were he and Russia, lovers? Dating? He had no clue and he laughed nervously, "you can say, it got a bit competitive." was Russia going into space too? He didn't know, all he knew was that Russia had footage from space and had sent a dog into space. Then he paled, and the burning of the rocket and the person inside. He prepared himself, he would survive so that he could see Russia again, so he could brag and kiss him. He smiled at the thought.

Russia wondered how he found the signal. He slammed his hands on the desk over the papers, he sobbed, the tears rolling on his face and dripping on to that papers. He ripped them up. He tossed then in the air and paced around. Sobbing still. He bit his lip. He couldn't even win a fucking race. He felt a competitive tare in his chest. He tossed his head back crying. Damn it, damn it damn it damn it....America wouldn't even let him win a fucking game. He tried telling himslef that it was jsut a game, your better than sobbing over a game. He lost everything to America during the cold war, he saved him buing Vietnam, he lost a race. He gave up his power when the USSR died. He was powerless if anything. He wanted to say he got why America forced him to give it up. It was so he could beat Russia at every game they played.

America had found the signal, but it was extremely faint. He was strapped in, sitting sideways, giving Neil a reassuring smile, because he looked equally as nervous as America did. Was he going to survive this? He didn't know. He would win this race and just rub it in everyone's face, including Russia's. He had to win everything, he like he attention he and his country got and the name would be written in history books forever as the first people to land on the moon. He couldn't let Russia have this, not this. He didn't like to lose, and sulked when he did lose.

Russia fell back in a depressed rage. Why the hell did he have to lose so America could win! He would keep losing becuse he had no choice. He scram and panted out of anger. He held the neck of the vodka botttle he got to tight and it cracks. He cut his hand slightly. "f...Fcuk..." He said, running to a sink and washing the cut. He looked back at the shard of glass, he picked it up, looking at him glimming more than a star. He dragged it across and up his arms. "You are going to lose every game he plays with you" He said. "But he loves you right? He loves you so much that he wants you to lose so he can win..." He kept cutting tirdly watching the water turn pink and run down the sink. He listaned to the brodcast for a while. It was not going to be ok. He let his eyes droop, 1/2 closed. He sighed, the cuts closing up already. He stood up, and patted his arms dry.

America grinned as the rocket was beginning to take off, he felt the fear and nervousness in the pit of his stomach and pulse through his veins. He did this for pride, fame, and the thought and the whole world knowing he won and that he was the best. He looked out the window, trying to think of something else instead of the moon. He thought about Russia, wondered hat he was doing and if they were ready to launch. He laughed to himself, "Probably not." he said and Neil turned to him and raised an eyebrow, not even in space yet and already talking to himself. They were beginning to launch and he gripped the seat belt, he was gonna get there first, over his dead body he'd let Russia win.

Russia sat still for the next hours. Not nothing to even shift around. He listened to the sounds to the Americans going to the moon. Oh the Irony, the rocket sounded just like the Russian burning to death in space, just less screaming and begging for help. He cried softly, America could have let him win once. He knocked the though out of his own head, he was just there for America, right? or was it the fact that he did that so Russia couldn't. He just sat, listening at the sounds of the thing taking off. He heard the claps and cheerers of the Americans, a place called Canaveral. He sighed, tears still rolling down his face. Oh well, he could add this to the list along with all the other times America managed to love him and still beat the hell out of him. He should hate America by this point right? Did he underestimate his own power? did America? He got up, and poured the vodka on the radio, making it spark and smoke a bit. He smiled though. He sat back on his chair and replayed the recored of the Russian buring to death, than listaned to the nothing after they died.

The rocket launched and he could feel the truculence as the went into the air, he was nervous, he didn't evern know if they would make it out of the first layer of the atmosphere. He just shut his eyes and thought about Russia and how he was eating his dust, he loved him, but he should understand, right? He still loved Russia. He didn't really consider what Russia was feeling, maybe happy that America won. He grinned the entire way and said over the roar of the rocket, "I'm starving!" and yet he didn't know what they ate in space. They told him, but he forgot, so he was curious as to when they could finally move around the rocket.

Russia rolled his head aimlessly from side to side, the few bottles of vodka he had drank making his neck hurt from some reason. He just sat and listaned to the nothing before getting up and going outside, the air was warm, nice and soft. He didn't know what to think of it. He watched the sky turned in to night and looked at the stars. He wanted for him to be little again, and America asleep in his arm. He wiashed America didnt have a ego. He went on like this for the next 8 days, hoping America was having fun. He mostly just sat and felt sorry for himslef. He woud lose everything to America if he tried. Everything turned in to a war, a race, or a reason to hate him. Oou of everyone, he loved America still.

America was blinded by his ego, pride and power. After they were finally given the okay to freely move around America shot up and stretched out, he said, "So....food?" Neil laughed and handed him a small bag and America gave him a look and he said, "You add water to it." America looked mortified, he couldn't eat this. Where were the solids?! He had to add water, the package said mashed potatoes, but all he felt was powder, he was already hating space but then looked out the window and saw the bright and glowing stars. He had never been so close, they shined brighter here, though they still looked far away, he wished Russia was with him, and he stopped. He frowned, Russia wasn't with him, he had promised to go with Russia to catch the stars with him. He sighed and Neil looked over and said, "You miss her?" America couldn't say that it was male, make everyone on the ship and said, "I promised to catch the stars with them.....but I'm here, by myself." He was on top of the world, by why did he feel so lonely. Neil gave him a small smile, "You can tell her all about it when you get back. America just left it at that, he didn't want to tell Russia about it, he wanted him here, with him, to see this! He spent the days sleeping eating the nasty powder a looking at the stars. On the 8th day, he saw that they were extremely close to the moon. He smiled, "Dude! We're so close!" They had some trubulance when they landed and Neil was the first to go out in his space suit and America just watched in fascination, they were on the moon, and when he saw that flag put at the top he thought to himself that it was pretty damn good to be him right now. He had done it, first ones on the moon. He wanted to go out too, but they had to leave with the rocks soon and so would just wait for another opportunity. It took another eight days to get back and when they landed they landed in a landing zone which was in the middle of no where and were greeted and cheered by people they all waved as they got back safely and successfully. America had to to go see Russis, not just for bragging rights, but because he missed him and wanted to tell him all about what he saw.

Russia knew that it would take 1 year to get to the moon at slowest, an 8 at fastest. He bet his ass America didnt know that. He wanted to go, but America just wanted to so that he couldn't. He dreaded Americas arrival. He staied in the space staion, giving the other 16 days off to the workers. One of then even asked if he was ok. After long days of work and no sleep, America could say a word and go with no question asked. He listaned to that one tape of the Russian scraming and buring. It had appeal to it. To know this is what the Russians got and America got the claim the moon. He looked up and told the workers to go home again. He just sat in the station and sfotly cried. He lost again. Hurray for Russia. He sat, spining in his chair over the cold iron on the floor of that station. He laughed, this one was from the soviet days. He wanted to go back. Before he killed his family. than he was strong still. He wanted to see the stars like America got to, and to see the moon, like America got to. He never knew why he loved America, he just did. He was social, warm, nice, lucky. But could just as simply be a raving, vendictive, slefish, greedy, little brat. He sighed, eyes red from crying over the last 16 days. He felt every this his body did. He could fell the blood running though him, his skin shifting around him. He had also kept making himslef bleed, alot. making his arms and legs and chest a checker board of scarbs scars and cuts.

America was helped off of the rocket by others and they all cheered and congratulated them. America and Neil waved, they were at the top of the world. America wanted to see Russia as quickly as possible and ignored any reporters, and refused to give his name. He needed to get to an airport, he shed the heavy suit and wanted to see Russia as soon as possible. He had won, but they were supposed to go together. But it was really Russia's fault, he started to build rockets and America didn't hear anything about it until he saw the news, so he supposed they were even. He took one of the ars provided to an airport and took a plane to Moscow, he had Russia's house on file and knew where he lived. He landed in a few hours. and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again.

Russia sighed, he was over reacting, just give it up and be with America... No, he didn't want to, he was being mean in the fact the he only wanted to so he could make Russia lose again. He got up and out of the space staion and started home, it was in walking distance from his house, thank god. He started the few blocks back to his home. He looked down for the most part, felling oonce again beaten. He froze when he saw America. Why could he not bring himslef to say anything? He suddly felt like his heart stoped working. The tubes were twisting in knots. He sighed. "Did you like getting to see space America..." He said fatly, hiding how really pissed off he was. Why could he not say anything?!? He looked up at America, wondering how he knew his house by heart. Oh yah, America and him were together. He wondered why his brain loved America so much if he knew he caused his so much pain. He just looked at America, being less than happy. He just pushed on the felling in his chest go away. He kept his eyes 1/2 closed, to tride and to hungover to not

America was about to turn around when he saw Russia there, he let out a small smile and then Russia asked how space was, ad his smile faltered a bit. It would have been better if Russia was there with him, but he had won, He grinned and said, "It was pretty cool, although...." ah, why couldn't he say it, it was embarrassing to say stuff like that, especially to another man. He shifted nervously and said, "It would have been better....if you were there to see it." he blushed profusely. Russia looked different. He looked tired and for once in his life he read the atmosphere and said, "Dude, you okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Russia gave a weak attempt at smiling. He shoved pasted America and went inside, leaving the door for America to come in to. He just laied donw on his couch and staried at the TV, now explodin with the fact that America got to the moon. He didnt even know what to say about it. He looked away from America. Yes, yes he loved his saying that, but he still did that out of haste. He could smeel the vodka on his own breath. He looked at America, glaces more soo than looking at him. He sighed. "Did you get to ceatch a star?" He asked, smiling softly. He felt the knots tie in to more knots in his chest. He wished he coudl just...fall over dead. He still looked like a tic tac toe baord and he pasyed America didnt see anything.

As Russia passed by him America could smell the strong scent of vodka. Now, Russia usually smelled like vodka, but this seemed to an extreme, it was strong and it stung his nose. He followed Russia, and was tired from his own trip and he followed the other to the couch. He could tell, that once again, they were on bad terms. America sat on the other side of the couch as Russia and looked over at him laughed when asked if he caught a star and said, "I asked Neil if I could and he just laughed at me and told me they were too far away, even in space, I couldn't seem to catch them." he looked the other way not looking at Russia, "What's been going on the past 16 days?" Russia didn't seem as talkative or affectionate as usual. He rested his head on he arm, with was propped upright on the arm of the couch and shifted his eyes over at the T.V and said, "I'm sorry." for not taking Russia ith him and for being a screw up.

Russia didnt want to forgive him for more than he needed to. "For what?" He asked. His eyes were still red, he had been sobbing everyone of the 16 days. He looked at America. Turing in his back to look at him better. "America, I want to show you somthing, Da?" He said, sitting up and grabbing Americas hand, pulling him out the door. He walked back to the station, the air ringing with the clapping of his steps. He worked at a controle pannle, scroling the computer through recoreds to play. He stoped when he got the the first human he sent up in to space. He didnt play it yet though. "America, why are you so aimed and prving your slef better then me and beating me in everything?" He asked softly, his hand ready to press play. America had prorobly hurd about it, but he wanted to accualy know what heppened.

America let himself be taken to wherever Russia wanted to take him. When they got to the facility he looked around at the large empty building. Had they just given up when he had gotten to Space? He wondered why Russia had brought him here, to guilt him that he had lost. He looked at the screen, being all in Russian he couldn't understand a single thing. then Russia asked him that question. He shifted and stayed silent for awhile and said, "I wasn't just racing against you....I was racing against the world." then he thought and processed his thoughts and said, "I felt threatened, and I had to take you out, you were gonna take all my fame." he truly was a greedy American, but look at him now, the name of his country posted on every newspaper and flashed on T.V screens, there wasn't a person in the world who didn't know his name. He wanted people to know he was the best country, freedom, power, technology, minerals from other countries which he brought over to his. "I love you..... can't deny that.....but my name was on the line....and I don't like being 2nd best." he grew serious, but still curious to why Russia had brought him there.

Russia smiled. "Well, at least your honest." He said softly. "America, do not think that I don't know your better than me, you burnt down my home and everything i owned, you won the space race, you have proved it, can you give it a rest now?" He asked, wincing at the thoughs. He smiled though. "America, you know what happened to the first human we sent in to space, right? They burned to death..." He sighed and pressed the button, from the desk his screaming and begs for help filled the air. Russia had heard this so many times, he didn't even filch. The scrams died down, and than silence. He looked at America. "We get to burn so you can win a race..." He said fatly, America was prvoing he was the best over and over and useing Russia as a punching bag. "I can try, But than they burn...I give up at this point. There is no point in trying really. I can never win." He said, the slinace after the tape still being in the room.