Healed By Love

Cross Necklace/Ludwig-Part 2

"Lwuddy?" Kylie's voice sounded so miserable, so weak, the German rushed to the bedside (and ignored the 'Luddy' nick-name he hated coming from everyone else but her). She was on a small pillow on his nightstand in his room. Well small to the German, for the Tiny toddler, it was practically an extremely extra large bed, and he was doing paperwork from right across the room to stay close. "Vat is it, liebe?" His voice was gentle and soft. She was definitely sick, poor little thing. It was seven in the evening now, at Germany's house. She had been sleeping on and off all day—he took time off to work at home instead of at it to be with her. It seemed that the flu strain she caught from the day and night on the freezing street were typical cold symptoms: sore throat, fever, chills, and coughing. Chills and coughing being the worst of these two, Germany had to hope that he didn't get sick from snuggling her practically every night. Lucky for him, his country-immune system was stronger than that of a human, and even more so to a Tiny's immune system. And he was freaking Germany, he took care of himself when it came to that kind of stuff. Being the neat-freak he was, the man was wiping nearly everything she touched down, and did laundry today so the sheets were clean. "Thwirswty," she croaked, causing another coughing fit to rack her entire body. He quickly got the cup of ice water from the nightstand, scooping her up to cradle her against his chest, rubbing her back and offering it to her lips when the fit passed. "I'm right here for you, Kylie. I'm not going avay." "D…Dwonkwey, F—Fwatty." She struggled to remember the German words, but wanted to impress him. ". . . Vat?" He sweat-dropped, eyes going white and a nervous smile forming on his face. Perhaps She was sicker than he thought…"D—Dwonkwey? Vwatwi," She tried again. "Dwankwe." He made a small sound, understanding now. That was the first time anyone had ever called him Vati. It felt nice. Very nice, actually. Even if it was part of her sickness clouding her head, she had just called him a daddy. His chest swelled, a proud smile on his face. "Hey, z—thank you! Danke, zat's right! Very good!" He grinned, and couldn’t stop grinning as her little eyes shut. Germany put the water back on the nightstand, stroking her hair with his thumb once before taking her small and fragile hand in his much larger one. "If I'm your Vati, zen you can be mein Tochter…Ja, I like zat!" He laughed, kissing her microscopic cheek and tucking her back in on the pillow, before getting up to finish his work. The more he thought about it, the more Germany loved that feeling he got when she called him Vati. Prussia, on the other hand, wondered why the hell his brother seemed so giddy when he came down to the kitchen....."Vwatwi?" Kylie's tiny voice squeaked. She was nursed back to health by Ludwig, Onkle Gilbert, Zio Feli, and Oji Kiku. She had gotten well again quickly, blossoming into a sweet young girl. Although she still had serious nightmares over her Other Caretaker, Vati was there for her almost every night she had them. This was unfortunately often, but he didn't mind when she came into his room late at night. It might have been a bit awkward to be smushed by Italy with her on his chest most of those nights, but he didn't mind waking up like that in the morning. "Papa?" Once she got better, her Vati (Germany) sat her down and told her about the countries. He made a promise that when she was older he would get Britain to cast a spell so she could live with him longer than a regular human would, but she would age really quickly in the meantime. To him, a centuries-old country, human lives were so short and aged so quickly. But he couldn't let that stand in the way of raising her. She rounded off into the kitchen, where she saw her Vati, arguing with her Onkle and his friends France and Spain. Their voices were raised, scaring her in their native tongues of German, Spanish, and French. None of which she recognized. "Kylie!" Germany turned to her, clearing his throat. "Liebe, please go back up to your room, ja?" "I—I had a ni-nightma—" "A nightmare, I know." She blinked in surprise. He didn't usually sound like that, voice slurred and interrupting her. "Just…I'll be vith you in a minute, sveetheart. Right after I deal vith zese dummkopfs." He stood, swaying some on his feet while walking towards her. "Go back up to bed," His words came out annoyed, towards her. Her eyes widened as she recognized this behavior. Unbalanced, slurred words, and angry. Her Vati was drunk. And her little heart simply broke. This was the exact nightmare she just had, why she had run out here in the first place! It was about the night she ran away—but Germany took the place of her old Caretaker . . . But Onkle Gilbert promised her Vati wasn't mean when he got drunk! And there he was, shouting at her Onkle and his friends, talking to her like her Other Caretaker would when he didn't want to be mean to her in front of his friends...But secretly, she knew her Other Caretaker was angry and would hurt her later on. Right now, the other three were watching her, the two friends smiling. It wasn't the kind of nice smile when they greeted her—it was like her Other Caretaker's friends smiling, when he got angry at her for interrupting their "man time." Like the smile a parent gave their child when he (or she) was throwing a tantrum that was over nothing. Those were smiles of an understanding; they knew her Caretaker was going to hurt her. Spain had that understanding smile, not fully understanding that the terror that froze her was not just because of a nightmare. France was looking on, taking a small sip of his wine and smiling happily (being a happy, if not a bit horny around the countries just to bug them, drunk). Gilbert was the one who understood that Germany should not be drinking around her and looked panicked. He thought Germany would watch her tonight while the Bad Touch Trio went out to have fun. And Germany thought the same of Gilbert, going out to a bar with the other Axis members himself at an earlier time. Really, it was a simple mix-up, and the countries thought they could get away with this once without her knowing. It obviously didn't go that way. Her world crashed down on her, and she screamed as his hands came towards her with that stench of alcohol: her Caretaker. She ran back, stumbling some, as old instincts took over and she rushed upstairs to her room as fast as she could at her size in a terrified frenzy. She used all of her energy to push at least several books that were on the floor in front of the door. Then, with a sense of déjà-vu, she hid in a plastic bag in the closet. As she huddled in fear in the shadows of the closet corner, she realized that not all endings are meant to be happy... "Kylie?" Germany said, aware of the fact she was scared and running but not sure why. "Dummkopf!" He turned, not expecting the Prussian to say that to him. "Vat?" Prussia, who had surprisingly held himself together and wasn't as bad off as his friends and brother, was even angrier than before. He said in German, "We are both drunk, idiot! Take a fucking guess why she ran away!" Germany ran to the sink before throwing up. "Damn Germany," France laughed, "how much did you 'ave to drink?!" "…Too much…" He wiped his mouth, realization finally dawning through the drunken haze. "Gott, vay too much…".......Germany woke up the next morning on the couch, a hangover clouding his vision. He groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing his head, vaguely remembering the past night. A mistake had been made . . . What was it? Besides letting France and Spain stay the night, apparently. The two were on the floor below the German, snoring softly and lying together. "Bruder," Prussia greeted coldly, behind him holding and mixing eggs in a frying pan. Why they weren't on the oven yet, Germany didn't ask. "Bruder," He nodded, stepping between the sleeping countries and standing. "How much . . . Vhat . . . Vere is Kylie?" "I don't know. After she ran avay, I figured she didn't vant to talk to any of us. Und I didn't follow her." The German made a small sound, eyes  as wide as a child’s. "R-ran avay?! She—she saw us all drunk?! Vat happened?!" He shrugged. "I remember ve vere fighting last night before she saw us. Either vay, nozing good came out of it. I zink she ran upstairs—ja, I'm certain. I just got up maybe ten minutes ago, haven't seen her." This next sentence came out in a rather pathetic voice, but Germany didn't care. "D-did I fuck up?" He chuckled mirthlessly, nodding. "Ja, little bruder. We fucked up big time."....."Kylie?"Germany knocked on the door. "Liebe, are you avake?" Hearing no answer, he opened it—pushing a stack of books out of the way as well. He raised a brow. It was obviously meant to stop anyone from coming in, but failed. She couldn't place them under the doorknob, just literally against the door. It did nothing, just like it nothing to stop her Other Caretaker. "Kylie? Susse?" She wasn't in her makeshift bed, and he stepped in to look around, being mindful of where he walked. Gott, did she run avay? No. Prussia said he saw her run upstairs! Then again, he was drunk . . . Germany wondered how drunk he himself could've been (and what the hell he drank) to get this bad of a hangover. And she saw him drunk! He knew—knew!—she came downstairs because of a nightmare and saw the men she came to slowly trust apparently fighting, drunk like her Other Caretaker would be when he hurt her. Germany didn't remember any of it. He remembered that scream she gave off though; the innocent, "Vwatwi…? Papa?" before screaming in absolute terror. And it destroyed the German, knowing he had caused that scream. Beginning to worry, he checked under the bed, in the bathroom in the room, and finally opened the closet door. He made a sound of sympathy, seeing her huddled up form in the plastic bag in the corner, using the bunny Gilbert had gotten her as a pillow. She had obviously attempted to hide under some clothes as well, but in her sleep had stuck her little head out to breathe easier. She was still hiccupping. She had cried herself to sleep. "Oh, mein libeling," He knelt down, touching her shoulder. "Kylie, vake up. Come on, susse. Vake up for me, hm?" She slowly opened her eyes, immediately jumping back and huddling in the corner of the closet. She whimpered, holding her knees to her chest and expecting it to be like last time she was cornered by shop man. Even if the bruises healed, there were scars that never would. "Gutten dahg, Kylie," He tried slowly and reassuringly, trying to calm her down. "Zere is no reason to afraid, ja?" He held out his hands, making her flinch, and slicked back his messy hair with one hand so he looked halfway decent and normal. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Ich liebe dich, Kylie. Have I told you zat before? I love you. Very, very much. You have taught me many things about being a more patient, kind person. You have nozing to fear from me, alright? I am so, so sorry you saw me last night like zat. But I was only angry at myself und Onkle Prussia for getting…ve both got drunk because neither of us realized…realized the ozer vas drunk. Or zat you would come downstairs. But neither of us vere going to, nor vill ve ever, hurt you. I'm so sorry." She whimpered again, tears forming in her eyes as she held her little arms out. "Papa…" "Mein tochter…poor kind," He picked her up and held her against his chest in a hug, kissing her gingerly and walking to the bed to sit. "I vill never hurt you." He had repeated this many times in reassurance after a nightmare, but this time it was meant firmly. "Prwomwise?" She asked, stretching her sore limbs from the night on the floor. "Ywou were awngwry, an' I got rweally scwarwed!" Germany laid down on the bed, holding her close. "Ja, mein schatz. But not at you. Never at you…" He sighed, slicking his hair back with one hand again and then rubbing her back. She decided to confide in him. "…Thwe nwight b'fore I rwan away, I was hwidwing bwehwind wother Twinies bwut Shwop mwan fwound me. H-he twook thwis," she grabbed her ankle, "an' thrwew me wat one of thwose that mwade up my cwage." She pointed to a wall. Germany sat up immediately, breath hitching. "He did vhat?!" "An’ thwen he stwarted to ywell wat me, an’ I rwan away aftwer he hwad geone nwight-nwight and thrwew me out with thwe bwad bwottles." He had never heard the full story, only knew the bruises were from the beatings. But now he understood very well why she was so extremely fearful of alcohol. Okay. Okay, so, last night was a screw-up. And it couldn't happen again. Germany sometimes snuck a beer or two when he was out—because all hell would probably break loose if he, therefore his people, did not drink beer—but never got full-on drunk. And seriously, he had no idea why he drank that much last night anyway... He kissed her carefully, in response to her. "Danke, Kylie. For trusting me enough to tell me zat. Now, it is about six in ze morning, ja? Let's go back to sleep for now und try to get some rest." "Ja, Papa!" she smiled, kissing his cheek before settling down on his chest. "Iwch liwebe dwich, Vwatwi!" Germany grinned (he didn't show it, but he absolutely melts when she performed this little scenario!), wrapping a hand around her and pulling the sheets back up around their bodies. "Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz." "Whwat dwoes scwhwatz mwean?" " 'Mein Schatz' means 'My Treasure,' Kylie. You are one of ze best…best things that has ever happened to me." She squealed happily, wrapping both arms around his thumb. He laughed, rolling over on his side so the two could snuggle properly that was safe with their sizes differences. Germany was so happy with her like this, and treasured these moments so much, that he didn’t even notice Prussia standing in the doorway grinning ear to ear. The elder brother walked back downstairs to tend to his best friends, making sure to save some breakfast for the two for later. "Heh. Who knew mein un-awesome little bro vas an awesome Vati, eh France?" "Mm..." The country groaned, rolling over to unknowingly snuggle a sleeping Spain. Gilbird chirped.