Trials & Errors | CH RusAme AU

3) Train Tracks

Tap, tap, tap

America's legs were restless, his heels tapping against the floor with each passing second. Meanwhile, Russia was spacing out, his mind does usually drift to other places whenever he gets worried.

The British man sat there across them. His legs are crossed as he flipped through the documentes from early this morning.

"Are you done reading it, Chief?" America finally breaks the silence as he slouches forward. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Britain puts the papers back into the folder and slides the documents facing America, "I just want to call you in to tell you that the case is closed. Mr. Fjord died from suicide. I'll be assigning you two for another task."

"Closed?" America scoffs, "Sir, we can't just easily rule it out as suicide when it clearly isn't."

Russia joins in and adds, "With all due respect Chief, Germany walked me through the crime scene and he made it obvious that someone must've come into his flat and made it look like a suicide."

Britain rests his elbow on the desk before taking off his glasses, "I find it hard to believe. The apartment was locked from the inside, along with the windows and doors."

He continues, "If he were killed, there should've been someone else's fingerprint on the firearm. But instead, it matched Mr. Fjord's handprints."

"What?" Russia's hand drifted off his seat, "But-- his suicide note made no sense! None of his friends or family ever heard that he was seeing someone,"

"Well, maybe he kept his relationship a secret. Not every death has to make sense or has a deeper meaning. We called in the family and they asked for us to send them his remains for a funeral." Britain declares. "His family went through enough, they said they just want the case to be done. All they're asking for is closure. It's the least that we can do. And that's final."

The two nations stays quiet, unsure of what to say. Because they hate to admit that the chief was right. The family does deserve closure. And if they wanted to hold a funeral for his death then it's best to give them what they want.

Britain lets out a defeated sigh as he puts back his glasses on, "You two are on traffic duty near the Silver Canoe Highway. Pull over anyone that drives pass a red light, speeding, equipment violations, and so on and so forth. I'm sure you know the drill."

"What! Traffic duty?! Mph—" America yelped as Russia puts his hand over America's mouth trying to shut him up, nodding at the chief's order.

"Will do, sir."

✦✦✦

Hi-yo! It's summer! It's hot out there!

The radio broadcaster yells, obviously trying to sound hip, wanting to appeal to the younger kids. America changed its channels, attempting to find one that was playing a song. Any song. Just anything that could kill the awkward silence.

Never would America think he'd be wasting away his summer in a damp hot car in a middle of a highway, sitting alone with some guy he once knew in college.

While America was bored out of his mind, Russia seemed fairly fine and content with everything. He was used to getting traffic duty because overall he just needs to sit back, relax, and watch the road. But with America around, he couldn't help but feel invaded in his usual time alone.

"Why are we even here?" He inquires as America faced his partner.

"To watch over the traffic? I thought the chief made it pretty clear." Russia shrugs off America's question.