Healed By Love

Maple Leaf/Matthew-Part 2

"Bonjour, my niece!" "Franc—is?!" Kylie's caretaker looked up in shock as a man with long blonde hair stepped into the room, with sparkling blue eyes and a dazzling smile. "What are you doing here?" "I sent him and Iggy pictures of us having the best time ever and decided to let them come over for the last two days you and Kylie are here, bro!" Uncle Alfie replied, placing an arm around Matthew. "Now it'll really be a bro's weekend!" "Erm," Arthur—she perked up at his familiar voice, even in her foggy state of mind—came up behind Francis with two suitcases. "Actually, my boss also sent me over to discuss what we were talking about at the meeting, with the trade ag—" He took one look at her and stopped. "Oh my…" She had gotten better over the past few days, but she was still very sick. Coughing fits often rattled her tiny body, and she was always cold. Right now Matthew was standing with her in his hands, and she was dozing. "It's naptime," Matthew smiled. "She doesn't sleep very well unless she's held." She whimpered into his shoulder, rolling her head so her face was hidden in his chest. Then she fell back asleep. Her uncles and caretaker all whispered, "Aw!" "She was definitely a large reason why I came though," Arthur whispered. Because they were staying the rest of the week (at least that she knew of), her uncles took two other guest rooms in the large house. She had actually started calling it a castle, as it reminded her of the Disney movie character's castles she was now hooked on. Uncle Alfie had laughed at that, and announced that his home was now officially the Hero's Castle. She had gotten to explore it some, when she was feeling better and could do it. One or both men followed her, of course. She couldn't count very well yet, but Uncle Alfie told her there were plenty of guest rooms, storage spaces, bathrooms, and the like to house about twenty of the other countries in this house alone. Matthew had stomped on his foot after he said that. As soon as France finished his unpacking, Canada let him hold Kylie. He cradled her in his cupped palms, lying on her bed with the Canadian beside him. America and Britain were discussing what they needed to so they could get it out of the way for the weekend, so the pairs of brothers had plenty of time to themselves today. The Frenchman smiled softly down at her tiny little sleeping form, for once without any trace of slyness or hidden sexual desire behind it. Well, obviously there wouldn't be any for a toddler, much less his new niece! He wasn't that kind of person, but to other countries he just usually had a sexual look. She hadn't woken up yet, but she would later describe him as a handsome man like princes in the Disney movies. "She is very cute, non?" "Yeah," Matthew agreed. "I've told her a bit about you and Britain being our older brothers. She's pretty sick right now though, so I'm not sure how much she remembers about what I tell her. But I asked her to call you guys uncles." "Merci, mon petit frère! After seeing this gorgeous face, she won't be able to forget anything about me! Perhaps Britain will be forgotten, but-" He stopped himself, then turned to his little brother with an apologetic look. "Have you told her about the countries?" He blushed in turn. "America's let it slip a couple of times, but like I said, she's pretty sick and probably hasn't noticed. I'd like her to though, and as soon as she gets better I'd like to explain it to her." "Mm-hm," He kissed her forehead, smothering her a little. "How long 'as she been sick? Since you took her here?" "Yeah . . . She is two, she'll be turning three in a few months! Her immune system isn't exactly the best...Not to mention that she's been abused, her body's beat up and bruised, and—" "Hey, Mathieu," France said softly. "Calm down, lower your voice." He didn't even think the man could raise it like that. ' He must feel strongly towards the abuse, my poor frère…Hell, my poor NIECE…' He continued, "I look forward to getting to know her better. Brit—eh, Arthur told me a bit about her past. From what he could pick up, anyway. And I am sure you of all people will treat her like she deserves, Mathieu." He grinned, "You are one of the sweetest, kindest souls I have ever met. I am positive that you will make the right decisions for her and her well-being, mon Maple Leaf." France rolled over so that she was between the men, and he placed a loose hand around her and slid his other arm around his brother. "Je t’aime tou les deux, mon frère." "Je t’aime, frère." Matthew grinned, hugging France back. "And I've fallen pretty hard for Kylie, too." "Mm," she groaned, rolling over into Matthew's embrace and opening her eyes. "Pwapa?" Canada's eyes widened significantly as France's grin grew. Both repeated, "Papa?!" She woke up fully, scared by the awed and also scared look on Matthew's face. "Dwaddy?" "Y-you just called me . . ." He couldn't speak. "She just called you Papa and Daddy!" France squealed, taking his arms off of the two and laying it over his mouth. "Whwo're y-ywou?" she asked, turning to him with wide eyes. Matthew answered, "Your Oncle Francis. Remember when I was talking about him and your Uncle Arthur? They're going to be here for a couple of days, too. They're mine and Uncle Alfie's big brothers."
"Ar-Artwhur's hwere t-twoo?" She immediately perked up at the name of the man who took her from the alley, and into the arms of people who cared about her. "Yeah, but he and Al—eh, Uncle Alfred are busy right now. But Oncle Francis is right here," He smiled. "Bonjour, mon niece!" Francis smiled, and when she rolled to face him he was smiling that nice, soft smile that made her feel safe. "It is very nice to meet you, finally!" In the fog of her mind, she decided to like him. "Hewllo, swir, nwice to-" This was cut off by a coughing fit—not as bad as the ones a few days ago though, since she was getting better. Matthew got up to hand her a sippy cup made for Tinies as Oncle Francis sat up with her cupped against his chest. The Frenchman patted her back lightly with his thumb as she drank, and she smiled at him. "Mewrci, swir." "Very good," her Papa whispered, proud of how she recalled the French word, even if she was a teeny bit off with her babyish accent. "But, earlier—you called me Papa." "Uh-huh. Because y-you're really nice to m-me." "He is a true gentleman, Kylie," Francis said. "And you are a truly brave, sweet girl. You are both lucky to have one another." "Merci, frère," Matthew whispered. "Mewrci, Owncle Frwancis!" she exclaimed. "But—that's the only reason why you called me Papa?" "Well, y-ywou alswo howld me whwen I-I'm swad. Awnd ywou an’ Uwncle Alfwie plway wiwth m-me, an—awnd down't hwurt me lwike Swhop mwan u-uwsed to…" She trusted these men, not just because they were nice to her, or that they never hurt her, but because they didn't ever get mad. Or drank. She had discovered food isn't just leftovers from a take-out box, and games, and they, especially Matthew, taught her what love actually was. They didn't abuse her. "Y—ywou an' Uwncle Alfwie cware abwout me, a-awnd swince Un-Uwncle Alfwie is my Uwncle, th-thwat mwakes ywou my Dwaddy…S-swo, I lwove ywou, Dwaddy." And she vaguely recalled, when the men thought she was asleep, Matthew saying he would love to be called that. The Canadian's mouth dropped as she spoke, and her Oncle Francis squealed again. Canada had never heard someone say that before, that they cared about and relied on him that much. Even with America, although they were brothers, they didn't share the kind of bond between parent and child. Obviously, as they were brother and brother! The country, having always been ignored, was now a papa in her eyes. Neither of them had ever really been loved. At least not in many, many years. Her Papa picked her up in his arms and kissed her microscopic cheeks, which entailed kissing her head, several times, giggling like a fool. Were his eyes tearing up? She couldn't tell now, because he was hugging you. "Thank you! Merci, Kylie! Je t'aime! Oh my Maple, thank you, I love you too! Merci, je t'aime Kylie!" He continued to exclaim phrases of gratitude and shower her with kisses, practically spinning the two of them around the room, to the point where she was giggling just as hard as he was. "Papa, the kisses tickle!" But she was ecstatic he was excited about something as simple as a name. And right now, she didn't even feel cold or sick! Francis watched this from the side laughing, excited for his little brother. He didn't care how much Spain teased him, Canada wasn't his son and she wasn't his granddaughter. Although France certainly felt like a father towards Canada when he was a chibi sometimes, he had started to consider him more of a brother as the years progressed and they came to respect each other beyond a father and son relationship. They were close friends, good brothers, and still were. France was proud to see his petit frère, who was so excited about raising a Tiny toddler as his own child and so happy that she acknowledged him as "Papa", that he couldn't wait to see her grow up. Then again, he would have to ask Britain about that aging spell he mentioned on the plane ride here. Humans aged so quickly, and countries outlived so many . . . Oh, the thought of her death killed him! . . . But yes, grow up in a sense of becoming a beautiful woman. But for right now, his Canada was the happiest he had been in a very long time. "Hey now, Mattie," He laughed, standing to poke his brother in the side. "A toddler can only take so many kisses and love! Even as a Tiny!" "But I'm showing her just how much I love her back!" He giggled, but stopped going around the room and sat down next to Francis. "Maple, no one's made me that happy since I became independent!" "Whwat's thwat?" He kissed her head, and wiggled afingertip on her belly. "I'll tell you later, eh? I promise upon maple syrup, I'll be a good Papa to you!" She began giggling again, even after he stopped the tickling. "Mewrci Pwapa! Ywou've al-alrweady bween gwood to me! I'll b-bwe gwood to ywou t-twoo!" "Oh goodness, I almost forgot!" His grin turned sheepish as he settled her back under the covers. "You're still sick!" "But I feel be-etter!" she pouted. He would have hummed in annoyance if he wasn’t so giddy. "Well, Kylie Williams, since naptime is over…How about lunch?" "I'll make you a French cuisine you will simply adore!" France got up, excited. "You two will stay here. I’ll be back as soon as it's ready, we can have lunch in here so you do not have to get out of bed. Oui?" "Owui!" she responded, knowing the word. "Good girl," Matthew whispered, pride swelling in his chest for you as he laid on the bed. "Je t'aime, my little Maple Leaf." "Jwe t'waime, Mr. Mwattie-Mwaple-Mwan." He began laughing again. "No, I'm Papa now!" She cracked up when he poked her belly, and they both decided they loved hearing the other's laughter. Both of them felt loved and happy in each other's arms, and both parent and child were absolutely in love. Yes, she was already very happy with him. And she knew the future was finally, finally as happy as she felt right now.