Healed By Love

Sunflower/Ivan-Part 1

"Go ahead und choose, Kylie." She gave the blonde man a shy look, digging her little body down to the left a bit but keeping it on the top of the bag, and grabbing onto what she thought was the stem of a flower she often loved to watch grow outside the shop. And it was: a sunflower! "Dat is my sunflower." Arthur froze above her, as did most countries, as a tall man with platinum blonde/white hair stood from several seats down... She noticed another man that had been beneath him, who immediately got up to move seats. The tall man gave her a child-like smile and walked over. The entire room was quiet. He held out a hand. "My name is Ivan Bragnisky, little one. You will be one with Mother Russia from now on, da?" "Ywou're a Mommy?" she asked, staring up at him. "In a sense." These words made her feel even more nervous than before. She didn't make eye contact, but shook his extended index finger as Arthur took his handkerchief off of her with a kiss to the head. "Good luck, my love." Russia took her in his huge but warm hands as several of the countries gave her pitying looks before leaving. She didn't see or hear, but two men and a teenager began talking in hushed whispers about her. They kept looking over their shoulders, huddling together. "We even had four things in total in there!" Estonia exclaimed. The fourth item, besides their personal things, was a feather duster. Several groups besides the Baltics had discussed this together, and agreed: if she could choose one of their personal items, why not put something in that represented all of them? Estonia had only seen a few of the countries texting each other and agreeing: if you chose that particular thing that represented a certain group, they were to all raise her together. Besides the Baltic States working together, he was certain he saw the infamous Bad Touch Trio and Awesome Trio, among others. "There was a larger chance than the others that she would get our items!" "We're sitting pretty far away," Lithuania said. "Even if Germany did shake it up, our things were probably at the bottom of the bag . . . Yeah, see?" He pulled the tie, empty journal, book, and feather duster from the bag and handed it to the next country that wanted his belonging back. Then Lithuania handed the books back to his friends and put the tie back on. The feather duster wasn't his, it was one of the maid's in here. He left it on the table for her to pick up. "Russia was sitting a lot closer, his sunflower would have been near the top." "I am sure he will be treating Kylie alright." Latvia said. "I am positive other countries will be checking on her too and making sure she is still alive." "...Russia is many things," Lithuania said wistfully. "But he is not a child abuser. And CERTAINLY not a Tiny abuser. He is not as scary as he used to be, really. We all put something in there for a reason. He must have one too for wanting to adopt a child." They all looked at her in his hands, the state she was in. Damp clothes, filthy body. And the fear in her eyes: that was what drew the Baltics into putting something of theirs into the bag. They understood abuse. But they all also understood that there was a chance she would choose someone else's belonging, and that someone else would sympathize with she. All of the countries understood abuse, there were none that hadn't been in a depression or war (or other fates), and all of them adored children. They represented the future. She represented the future. She was someone broken and hurt, and all of them wanted to help raise her. Whether it was by a slim chance and luck or fate, she had chosen Russia's sunflower. He must have a reason to want to help her, just as everyone else did too. He wasn't the only one. But he was chosen anyway. The Baltic Trio couldn't do anything else now but leave. Two women came up, one smiling and one tight-lipped with her arms crossed. "Hello, brother!" The short-haired blonde woman said. Kylie couldn't help but hear, and feel, the "boom" of her breasts. "Brother," The other sister said, almost glaring at her. "We wanted to congratulate you," the other said happily. She turned to her, extending a finger. "I am Yekaterina, little one. You can call me Irina. This is Natalia." Natalia nodded at her, looking less angry and more pouty. Kylie saw an unrecognizable emotion (to her) in her eyes that Britain had when he found Kylie in the alley: pity. "It is…a pleasure to meet you, myshka." She didn't recognize this word. "…I-I'm Kwylwie." Irina, or Ukraine as countries better know her as, smiled. "If there is anything you need, Little Brother…" Ivan smiled back. "I was actually going to ask the Baltics to do something for me, but you two might be better suited."..."We are here," Ukraine called out behind the bathroom door. "We have the clothes!" "Oh, Big Brother~!" Belarus' voice would normally terrify Russia, but right now he was focused on Kylie. The bruises on her skin. The scars on her body. The stuttering explanation she had given for these, shivering and sick from spending a day and night outside in the freezing cold winter. His brain processed that this happened because her caretaker abused her, and she didn't have anyone. Nobody that dropped into that shop saw past his lies. Two years, and no one had ever shown her kindness that they meant or saw past Marcus Verano's lies. Russia unfortunately could relate. His mind was lost in the many wars he fought as a young child. Her body looked like it had fought many battles and lost—which was true. When he looked into her eyes he saw fear and pain. She didn't know what kindness was, and his own stature and size didn't help with her expecting pain. He felt horrible for her, but Russia did know that he was pretty scary. Even moreso for a fragile little Tiny like her. She was not yet dressed, as he was applying bandages and ointments (he tended to travel with a First Aid kit, and the hotel room had one too) to put on over the more recent scars. However, he unlocked the bathroom door for Ukraine to hand him clothes. Nightwear: a long-sleeved violet nightdress. And panties, of course.  "Do you need me to help you put it on, Sunflower?" Kylie nodded. He did this very carefully as to not snap a limb, and picked her up to take her back to the bed for warmth. The dress covered her arms, but not her little legs. She was freezing. His sisters, she assumed because they both called him brother, were sitting on the bed. An amazing aroma drifted from one of the bags Irina held: food. "I did not know what kind of food she would like, so I brought some of everything from a buffet." She smiled kindly. "We will be leaving you two alone now, so little Kylie can rest." "Wha—?" "We will be leaving, Natalia." Irina spoke gently yet firmly. "Thank you, sisters." Ivan nodded his thanks. Kylie was still focused on the food. Was ALL that for her? A few more words were exchanged, but she couldn't understand. It was on some other language she didn't recognize—Russian. But once they did leave, Russia tucked her beneath the covers and sat on the bed, next to her, with the food. "Those two are my sisters," She thought his accent was kind of funny. "I am surprised Natalia was being nice around you. She can be very nice when she wants to be, you know. She is usually creepy, but you have nothing to fear from her." He began opening the take-out boxes. "Yeka is my older sister, Natalia is my younger. Do you have any siblings?" She shook her head no. She had spent the two years of her life in that shop, isolated, alone, and abused. Ivan gave her a sad smile, and held out a fork to her. "Well, that is alright. I live alone too now. I used to live with others, but…" His face and voice grew sad. "But they left me." "I'm s-sworry." "It is fine. I live in a large house, so there will be plenty of rooms for you to play in." "O-Okway." She couldn't stop staring at the food. There were all kinds, but she didn't know if it was really for her or not. She never had this much food at once. "Go ahead and eat, da? It is all for you." He patted her back at the incredulous look she gave him. "It is no joke, Sunflower. It is for you. You can choose what you want, and I will eat after you. I will be changing into my pajamas now, da? And do not forget that there is a second box there. You can even eat everything if you want. I am not caring, da?" He got up to let her eat in peace...Russia held her in his hands, cradling her practically microscopic body against his middle beneath the sheets. They weren't the fleece kind, and it had been evident when he got out of the shower and saw she shivering hard that she wasn't warm at all. Even with the warm food in her little stomach. Without speaking, he had crawled in beside her and began eating what she hadn't. When she leaned into the warmth of his middle, he had wrapped one big hand around her. "You are safe," he had said. "I will not be hurting you, da?" Then, several hours later, she fast asleep in the Russian's cupped hands. He was wide awake, looking down at her pale but peaceful face. So many others had abandoned him. Wars had been raged across his country in the thousands of years he was alive, driving him to the point of insanity. He could relate to her—wounded, mentally and physically, to the point of no longer trusting others. Pain was different for every person, and every nation. He had been in pain his entire life, just as she had. Even if she wasn't even a big as his pinky, she was still likely the most precious thing to enter his life. She had chosen Russia's sunflower from the bag. And he would help her heal.