Healed By Love

Scone/Arthur- Part 1

"Go ahead und choose, Kylie." She closed her eyes and reached into the bag, having crawled in it a bit, tiny hands grasping something hard like a rock. She pushed it out to reveal some...well...black rock. Arthur, still behind sitting behind her, sighed in relief. "Scone! That's mine!" He was secretly hoping she would get the scone. She smiled some, face still red from the earlier tantrum. At least she knew this man more than anyone else. But what kind of rock was called a scone? Is it like coal? Cuz' it's black and charred like coal. The crowd of people began to murmur amongst themselves, most conversations not necessarily about her, but they were free now that the meeting was basically over. She thought she heard several complaining, but wasn't sure if it was about her or not. Germany nodded, reaching into the bag and withdrew his own item, passing it back around. "If you still vant vatever you put in ze bag, take it nov vhile you still can. Meeting adjourned!" Alfred stood as another man with long blonde hair, across the table and a ways down, began to head her way. He was . . . pretty. For a man, he was very pretty. Alfred was already next to the two, but went to take her new caretaker's hand. "Yo, Bri-Arthur! Congrats, man!" "Oh, Arthur~!" The pretty man called teasingly, from across the room. Arthur picked her shivering form up in his hands, tucking her in the pocket of his jacket. He could have it cleaned later. "Alfred, I'll let you visit as often as you want if you keep Francis away from Kylie..." He laughed. 'Dude, I'm already her uncle! Of course I'll visit as often as I want!" "H-huh?" She asked. "We'll discuss this later," Arthur went on, already walking towards the exit with her on his person. "She needs a good bath and warmth right now, not a game of 'pass the child' around the so-called new uncles and whatnot..." Especially to that frog. "Dude, I'll totally go get her more clothes and some lunch!" "Wait, it's four in the afternoon-" But the American was already gone, with the pretty man getting closer and closer. "Angleterre!" "Oh, not right now you bloody frog!"
Now Bloody Frog (what kind of name was that?) was walking beside the two out into the hallway. "But I just-" "Ar-Arwthur?" She was shivering violently, even in the jacket pocket. "Cwan I-I hwave a b-bl-blwankie?" Both pairs of eyes softened. "I'll be back later to properly get to know Kylie!" The man took her almost microscopic hand and kissed it, also taking the black rock from Arthur and throwing it in the waste bin-Arthur made a huffing noise at that. "You call me Oncle Francis, oui?" "Alfred's already gone to get her new clothes and lunch, but perhaps you could accompany him and make sure they're appropriate? Please?" He prayed, just once, that France would actually behave. This was an abused Tiny child, for the world's sake, and she needed proper caring! "Oui! I promise!" He nodded, jogging ahead...
Britain laughed as Kylie splashed around in the bubbly water. She was definitely an intelligent little girl, who had been through too much based off of her scars he saw all over her little body when she took off her clothes for bath time. What looked liked scratch marks were scattered around her back, with very fresh bruises on her ribs and one on her stomach. But they were bruises-nothing appeared to be broken, and she claimed nothing hurt enough to be so. Perhaps the shopkeeper was actually intelligent enough to go easy on her? If the fully-grown human man had truly hurt her as hard as he could, she would be dead. Okay, focus. Either way she was hurt, and he was caring for her now. But he had only seen such injuries on countries, scars from wars... "What happened?" He had asked quietly. "The mwan s-sways I'm a bwad gwirl," Kylie had answered. "He smwacked me h-hwere," She pointed to each bruise, "becwause I wasn't in cwage. Thwat w-was the nwight I rwan away, be-becwause I cowuldn't bweathe aftwer he d-dwid thwat! Bwut thwese," she motioned to her hands, "we-were frwom trwipping ye-yesterdway..." He took a good few seconds to absorb that-and how he'd kill the man, if he ever came to England (but America had already promised to keep an eye out for him, as Kylie told them his name, and the name of his shop)-and got her in the sink. Because America and France were still out shopping, Britain sent her dirty dress to be cleaned and sent back to their room (hopefully) before tonight. A white doll shirt he had in one of the pockets of the shirts he brought with him would suffice as an almost-dress temporarily, and she had the other hotel bed all for herself for a nap, even if it was the size of an ocean liner to her. "You're not a bad girl, Kylie. That wanker is just a bad man." Right now, he was just finishing cleaning her amber hair of the grime that set in last night, and of extra bubbles. She looked so innocent he had to smile and laugh himself. Especially with that bubble beard... Kylie giggled again and jumped as he helped her with the big doll shirt (she pulled up her training underwear by herself!) accidentally tickling her side. "What's funny now?" Arthur asked, smiling. "It-it f-fweels eird!" She honestly didn't know how to describe the odd sensation that made her laugh, having never really felt it before. "Oh does it...?" A mischievous gleam in his eyes told her to run, but he had already picked her up, holding her in one hand and tickling her belly with the other, careful to avoid the bruises. "Ever been tickled before?" It was something he had done with America when he was still a little colony to get the boy to cheer up, or (especially now as an adult, despite the super-strength) to do him a favor. She squealed in delight, laughter rising as she twisted and squirmed, not sure if she liked this new feeling or not. "N-NO!" "Really?" A surprised look crossed his face before the grin set back in, placing her on the bed. "Well then-prepare for the attack of the tickle monster!" He carefully dug into her belly and sides, causing real laughter to set in-something she had never done so hard before. It was when he moved onto her belly, he used one hand to gently pin her down the small limbs and tickling the little torso with the other hand, that she lost it. She squealed and cried out, "Stwahp! Plwe-HEASE!" "Nope! There's one last trick up the tickle monster's sleeves!" He pressed his lips against her itty bitty belly, seeing as to how she laughed hardest when he tickled there, and blew a raspberry right on a freshly cleaned middle. She squealed, throwing her head back in laughter. Chuckling, he showed mercy and let her giggles die off. "Alright, but the tickle monster will be back!" She giggled again as he loomed over her, both smiling widely. "No!" He wiggled his fingers teasingly above your body, laughing as well. "Don't be so sure..." More giggling as he poked her side once more. "Fine then, we'll just have to find other ways to make you smile," A poke to her belly, "And laugh," Another poke with the other hand, "And forget about your troubles..." A boop to the nose. She sneezed and began to shiver again. He sat on the bed beside her, lying down and pulling her carefully against him in a nice, warm hug. She definitely didn't want to go back to the shop. Arthur was nice. "You're still cold, aren't you?" "Mm-hm," she nodded. "It's okay, Alfred and Francis will probably be back soon with warm clothes . . . hopefully they won't be stupid American clothes only Alfred would pick out..." "He-He's rweally b-bwuying me clwothes?" "When that man sets his mind to something, he won't let go of it..." She gasped, scooting herself up to his face and kissing his cheek, and giggled when both turned red. "Thwank you! Th-thwank you, thwank you thwank y-you!" Arthur grinned again, flashing teeth, before kissing her forehead that was pressed against his face. "Thank your Uncles Alfred and Frog when they get here. Now lay back down, this is the best way I can think of to keep you warm. Unless you want another tickle-monster attack.." She giggled, wiggling her still-tingling toes and lying back down on his chest. "No!" Her laughter and smile was beautiful to him, and contagious to the normally grumpy gentleman. "Alright, fine. But maybe w-" The door burst open. Both of them jumped, and Kylie shrieked and jumped off of Arthur to cower beneath the pillow as a familiar voice called out, "The hero's brought food and clothes for my new niece!" "And mine!" Francis' voice echoed. "Kylie?" Alfred asked. "Oh, you bloody idiots scared her!" Arthur's smiled faded into a scowl as he stood, and she peeked up to see the two men holding shopping bags (and something in a different bag than the rest that smelled delicious!) in heroic poses. Her eyes widened at the smell of food, but she remained quiet under there. The shop man burst through the door like that, and she couldn't help but tremble at the fear that still gripped her-at first her had thought that was the shop man...Francis' smile drooped, and Alfred dropped his arms with the bags. "Huh?" "You twats, you kicked the bloody door open with your foot like you were breaking in!" "Ou contraire," The Frenchman said, "I unlocked it and America kicked it down ze momen' I turned ze knob!" "I'm Alfred!" The American nudged his side, looking more annoyed than anything at that and turning back to Arthur. "Where did she go?" He sighed. "I think under the pillow?" "Aw, hey little dudette!" Alfred kneeled down in front of her and the pillow, grinned, and shoved his arm out with the bag as an offering. She winced and jumped again, crawling backwards ever so slightly and whimpering. The hero, seeing as he caused this evident fear, was heart-broken. He cringed, then cooed, "Aw, hey. I'm really sorry! Seriously, we didn't mean to scare you! C'mon! Hey, want a bag of cheeseburgers? It isn't on the menu from McDonalds, but I'm a special regular so they made an exception!" She gasped, eyes wide and mouth forming a perfect 'O'. That was her favorite food, even if she got cold leftovers! "Of course she doesn't want any of your food! Right Kylie-Kylie?" Arthur looked under the pillow, watching her practically run to the end of the bed and jump up and down trying to grab the delicious smelling food. He sighed again. "Is a bag of cheeseburgers all you got?" "Pft. No!" He took out another bag, "I got cookies too, yo! Chocolate chip peanut butter!" "I got sandwiches for the two of us," France sighed, taking out said meal. "But le petite fille is still American, I'm sure she would love an American meal before turning to your cooking..." He shuddered. He would definitely have to send over an actual cook for the two of them if she was going to survive...Her stomach growled, and she looked up at Alfred hopefully. "I-It rweally awll fwor me?..." "Aw, kiddo!" Alfred opened the bag, taking out a wrapped burger, ripping off a decent her sized chunk, and offering it. "Of course it's all for you! I got it for you especially! And if you don't like cheeseburgers, I also got some chicken nuggets and fries somewhere...And don't forget the cookies!" "Oh, thwank you!" She took a bit of the the food, eating hungrily. She was lifted and cradled against Arthur's chest, snuggling closer for warmth. "Heh, anytime dudette!" He took one out, eating too. "I got dinner while Francis went shopping, but I owe ya some Captain America and Superman shirts, kay?!" Arthur mumbled something about "poisoning her already," but she was too busy eating and savoring the meal to pay any attention. She decided to forgive Alfred for the sole reason of this food, as the four of them ate. "Whwo're thwey?" She hesitantly took a cookie from the bag, done with the piece of burger. He mock gasped, and sweat-dropped. "You haven't heard of superheroes?! What, have you been living under a rock?!" "He nwever lwet m-me lweave my cwage." All three of them stared at you. "T.V?" Alfred tried again, softer this time. She thought for a second, chewing another cookie slowly. "Shwop mwan l-lwiked thwat thwing whwere pweople f-fwight." "Wrestling?" "Yweah. Th-thwat's awll he ewver w-wawtched whwen I was arwound. Or the nwews." "Well, prepare to be amazed!" While America ranted and told the Tiny toddler what superheroes were, Francis took a seat on the opposite bed and finished his own dinner. "She is very cute, non?" "Yeah, she is. Especially now that she's clean," Arthur smiled, then glared at the shopping bags. "For your sake, she better have appropriate clothes..." He was secretly glad that clothes for Tinies were small, so Kylie's new clothes would fit perfectly into his suitcase. "I promise that le petit fille 'as ze most beautiful clothing any American store could offer for Tinies!" He added. "But, that should suffice until you get back home to Britain, oui? I might 'ave bought a few more shirts zan necessary, but I thought she would look so cute with'em on! An' they are my gift to her, so no need to pay me back!" Arthur sighed, gently curling his fingers a little more securely around her as Alfred continued to speak nonsense (at least, in his eyes it was nonsense)- Kylie on the other hand had a look of pure amazement on her face that the Brit had to smile at as she learned about heroes). He decided to lay down the ground rules while she was distracted: "Well, thank you. Listen, Kylie's just a little girl and has been through a lot, so I would really appreciate it if you weren't a giant pervert around her. Or visit without calling first, or especially drink around her." Arthur knew even he would have a hard time not drinking, but from several answered questions about the shopkeeper he knew the bottle would have to go for a long time. Except on special occasions, maybe. Or he could allow Canada to babysit every once in a while so he could go out . . . Ah, but not for some time yet. He wanted to get to know her. Francis' face reddened, and eyes went white. "Of course I will not! Have I said one single dirty joke or thing about sex or alcoh-" He stopped and sweat-dropped as Kylie and Alfred looked at him, and Arthur glared as her little eyes widened. Francis laughed nervously, "Hononon... Kylie, do you want to see your new clothes? I tried to size you as best as I could, but some of the shirts might be a little big..."...The clothes were some of the prettiest she had ever seen. She sat there, awestruck, by the multiple colored shirts "Uncle Frog" got for her. Blue, red, white-one was a beautiful shade of pink that was also sparkly! And there was a set of matching button-up cotton pajamas that were the same color! He also bought soft pants to keep her little legs warm on the plane ride home, and several other pairs. He didn't know what shoe size she was, but Arthur agreed to take her out tomorrow and shop. Basically, a whole new wardrobe. Unshed tears formed in her eyes at the sight, clinging to Arthur and shivering. "Th-thwank ywou...s-swo mwuch! Thwank you!" "I think you should change into your new warm, fuzzy pajamas now, oui?" Francis smiled, handing her the nightwear and happy to make her so joyful. "They will keep you warmer zan a little shirt." "I think it is about bedtime, isn't it?" Arthur smiled softly, turning to the two men with the smile freezing on his face as he set her back on the bed and she ducked under the pillow to change. "For all of us." His tone changed at that last part...It was the middle of the night now. America and France had said goodbye quickly, leaving the two alone. There would be plenty of other times to get to know each other, but today Kylie needed rest. But she wasn't getting any. Arthur put her in one bed with some extra blankets, and he slept in the other. Kylie's breath hitched in her sleep, having a nightmare about the shopkeeper, and her little eyes snapped open. "Artwhur!" She whispered, too scared to move and too cold to speak any louder. "Ar-Arwthur!" Kylie was freezing now, shivering. She put her arms inside her shirt in an attempt to warm them and began to cry. "Artwhur!" Britain, meanwhile, was slowly waking up at his human name being called. He grumbled and rolled over, moaning. But the quiet, shaking voice got more desperate, like a helpless lost puppy wailing for it's owner. "Artwhur!...Artwh-twhur!...Artwhur..." Now the half-asleep man could hear a strange sound along with his name being called. A few more seconds passed before he remembered Kylie, recognized her voice and sobbing. "Oh, God! Kylie!" Britain jumped out of bed, immediately turning on the light and going to hers and delicately helping get her arms through the shirt sleeves before he picked her up. Holding Kylie tightly against his chest, Britain gently rocked her as she cried. "Love, what's wrong? You're freezing!" He went to the heater in the room, turning it up with one hand. Sniffling and shaking, she cried, 'I-I hwad n-nwightma-mware an'-an' cowuldn' meove wheen I w-wo-oke up! S-Shwop mwan," She sobbed, "H-he c-cwame bwack an-an . . . S-stwarted kwicking m-m-mm . . . " She couldn't speak anymore, bawling. Arthur held her against his chest, rocking her gently. "Sh, love. Hush now, you're awake and fine. Do you want to sleep with me?" Sniffling, she nodded and blew into the tissue he handed her. Britain took the blanket from his bed and put it on hers with one free hand, for extra warmth. "Okay," He smiled, lying back down with her on his chest and covering them both with the heavy set of blankets. "Once we get back to England, it'll all be fine." "B-Bwut whwen I wwoke up I-I c-cowuldn't mwove! I-it twas l-lwike Swhop mwan twas kwi-icking me agwain!" She must have meant the sickness melded with the nightmare, he decided. Kylie was freezing to the touch and wouldn't stop shivering; she probably woke up numb. Fever chills were what he originally thought she suffered from, but now it looked more like early signs of hypothermia. Way to fucking go, Britain. First night with my new daughter and she's sick as a dog. I failed as an older brother and now I'm failing as a father too..."I swear upon my life that he will never hurt you again. I promise you." Britain kissed her head gently, wrapping his fingers around her. "We're leaving America to go to Britain tomorrow, Kylie. I doubt he can follow us there, right?" He smiled, rubbing her back, "You'll be safe with me, love. I promise." She nodded, shivering violently. "Goodness, you are freezing!" He rolled the two over to the side, tucking her under his chin as she buried her head into his neck, before wrapping his fingers around her body fully, yet gently. "Is this better? You're as close as we can get now." "Y-ywes..." "Do you want anything? Water? I can get a cup if you want." "It's okway," That would involve getting up and leaving the warmth. "Are you sure you're warm enough love?" He considered casting a spell for her health. She nodded into his neck. "Thwank you." "You're welcome, sweetie. Sleep tight." He couldn't help but rub her back and arm with his thumb soothingly, a paternal side emerging he hadn't felt since taking care of America. Britain wanted to soothe her, make her healthy. Heal the scars inflicted by the bastard who did this, and make her smile again. There would be troubles along the way, trauma and damage that would take a long time to get better, he was sure. But he would take care of her. Britain made a vow to protect Kylie from harm, and he meant it. He wouldn't-couldn't-make any mistakes raising her like his other wards. Like America. But Kylie wasn't a country! She was a living, breathing Tiny being. Her life was so short; it was just beginning, and it would be short. Britain was a country, Kylie was a Tiny. He had so little time with her anyway before she needed to truly live her life as a Tiny! She would grow up and have a good future, maybe even a family of her own! Hell, one of the reasons why countries didn't talk to their citizens often was because their lives were so short compared to theirs. A decade felt more like a year, a hundred years was a decade. At least humans could appreciate their short lives. Countries went to war, fought often with one another. Appreciated few things. But they killed their citizens by sending them to war-Britain winced, recalling the American Revolution and imagining Kylie's little face in place of America's. That damned war changed everything. They still bickered often, but at least America and Britain eventually made up. Neither would ever really say it out loud to anyone, but they still considered the other a brother. And now, America went so far as to call Kylie his niece. He would keep an eye on Marcus Verano, Kylie's former caretaker in their country, and make sure Kylie would be well taken care of in the way of legalities. But even if he were to cast a spell, which he was absolutely going to do and would have for any other country that she were to live with, and slow her aging, Britain was only prolonging the inevitable. So why raise her at all if she was going to leave him anyway? Like all the rest? The answer came from the little snore that escaped her lips as she slept against him. She trusted him. Enough to sleep with, anyway, and hug as she cried. Britain felt himself tear up, feeling a growing warmth spread through his chest. This little Tiny girl, snuggled up against his body and nuzzling his heart,was not a pet, but was now his daughter. And dammit, not twelve hours after their meeting he already loved her.