Little Liberty (Hetalia/2ptalia)

9. Playing Chase

Allen was quick to help the girl. He brought her to the nathroom, running the bath and setting her in to clean off all of the grime. Her gown was disposed of and he helped her wash everything off, especially from her hair. He rinsed the tub twice before taking her out and wrapping a towel around her. She sat on the counter while he got a first aid kit, and began to clean her injuries. She hadn't noticed before, because she had been so focused on her foot, but the rest of her small body was also in bad condition.

Her arms were covered in many scrapes and bruises, and more than once splinters had to be tweezed out. Her legs were in the same condition. Her stomach had a large bruise from where she had been kicked, and her back had a matching mark, as well as more cuts and splinters, from where she had hit the tree. Her face was a bit better, but there was a large bruise across her cheek, and her lip was split, but otherwise it was untouched.

And then, finally, it came to her foot.

"Okay, baby doll," Al said as he gently propped her foot up on one of Oliver's nice white towels, "This is going to hurt, okay?" He handed her a washcloth and placed one between her teeth. "Scream into that and squeeze the other one, alright?" She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Al gripped the stick, which was half an inch thick, and pulled it quickly from her foot. Her scream caused him to flinch. He cradled her foot up in a towel to stop the blood, having already cut off some circulation,, and held her against him as she began crying in pain, and kissed the top oh her head.

"Alright, baby doll," He sighed, "It's alright now." Next, was the disinfecting and stitching. He didn't like hearing her cry, but she did as he cleaned up the wound so it wouldn't become infected, stitched up her foot, and wrapped it in a clean gauze.

He cleaned up, and took her upstairs to her room where he helped her dress in a nightgown. He gave her two pills, for children, that would help with the pain.

"How about I get some food," He offered, being uncharacteristically gentle. She nodded.

"Okay," She whispered. He stood to leave and she grabbed the hem of his pants. "Take me with you?" She begged. She didn't want to be alone. He nodded and picked her up again, holding her on his hip as he went downstairs. She buried her face into his neck, just like she used to do with her daddy.

In the kitchen, he sat her down in a chair, and began making something he knew she would like. After a while of silence, he sat down a pizza with Canadian bacon in front of her, a glass of sprite, and a cupcake; which was made by Oliver under supervision.

"Thanks," She whispered again. Her voice was sore from so much crying and screaming. She slowly began to eat, eating three-fourths of the pizza, drinking half of the soda, and eating the whole cupcake. Once she was full, and in slight better spirits, she leaned on her arms which were crossed on the table.

"Can you tell me what happened, now?" Al asked as he leaned on a hand perched on the table. She shuddered out of fear from the memory. But, nodded anyways. She retold the story, from chasing the butterfly, to losing it, to finding the hunters and running away, to Kuma coming to save her, and one man running off.

"You shouldn't have been out there, Liberty," He said with a disapproving tone.

"I know," She whispered, her lip trembling, "I know. I'm sorry." She buried her face in her hands and began crying again, quickly bringing on a repetitive case of hic-ups. The American sighed as she began to cry again, and rubbed at his neck, trying to think of something to do. After a moment, he gave up and plucked her from her chair and sat her on his lap, holding her softly while rubbing her back comfortingly.

"It's alright," He told her, "You're alright now. You're safe." She soon fell asleep in his arms. He brought her back upstairs to her room, laying her down in her bed and tucking her in. As he left, right before the door shut, he heard her mumble something.

"Thank you, Allen," She whispered. He found himself not even caring as she said his full name.

"Goodnight, baby doll." He closed the door. He walked down the hall towards his room, ducking in quick to retrieve a rather large baseball bat with nails sticking out in odd directions. He walked down the hallway towards the stair case, swinging the bat up to rest on his shoulders as he strolled down. There was a look of murder on his face.

"Time to play a game."

~

~Liberty~

~

She woke up late, judging by the darkness coming outside her window, to the sounds of yelling. Multiple people were screaming at each other downstairs. She sat up in her bed, trying to hear what they were saying, but couldn't through the thick walls. She took the blanket off of herself, and moved her legs to stand, but she didn't get an inch before pain racked up her leg. She let out a short cry, and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Ow," She said to herself, "This hurts!" She pulled the blankets back over herself, trying to lay back and fall asleep. But, she couldn't with the yelling. Who was yelling? And what about? She wondered if maybe, it was about what she had done? Was everyone downstairs yelling because she had been bad? She felt tears form in her eyes at the thought, but rubbed them away. No. Oliver wouldn't  yell at her. None of them would. Would they?

She reached out to turn on the lamp, but ended up knocking it off of the desk instead, accidentally smashing it on the floor. The arguing downstairs stopped.

She ducked her head under the covers, as multiple footsteps came up the stairs, pretending to be asleep. Her door creaked open, and the light flickered on, casting a pink glow through her blanket.

"Poppet? Are you awake?" She shook her head and heard him chuckled, "It's alright," He sat next to her on the bed, "you can come out." She slowly peeked her head out from under the blanket, and he gasped. "Oh, Poppet, I'm so sorry!" He suddenly said as he cried and hugged her to him, effectively making her sit up. "I shouldn't have left you alone today!" She didn't like the fact that the normally happy-go-lucky man was crying and hugged him back.

"I'm alright," She whispered, "really." She wasn't very convincing. It was a while that they sat there together, the young girl consoling the older man. And finally, a hand on Oliver's shoulder made him clean himself up, and look up at Francois, who looked annoyed, but sighed when he looked down at Liberty's beaten up face.

"Fine. We'll go." He said, confusing her.

"Go?" She asked, "Go where?" Were they leaving her now? "Am I coming with you?" Oliver pulled away a bit, so he could meet her multi-colored eyes.

"Yes," He said, "We're all going together," He nodded towards Matt, "We're going to Canada, we're Matt's home is." I felt my eyes widen slightly. 

"We're going back to Canada?" I asked, as if to make sure he wasn't lying.

"Yes," He agreed again, "Yes, it's time to go."