Kalda couldn't believe it.
Did she hear him right?
Did Oliver just say that she was his daughter?
Kalda scoffed, not sure if she should run away, yell at him, or slap him and then run off after she yelled at him.
"I don't believe that for one bloody second," she said, faking her most angry British accent that she could just to make him upset.
"But it's true," Oliver tried to say, but Kalda wouldn't let him speak.
"I don't want to hear it," she told him in her normal voice as she stood up. "I dreamt about who my father was like as a kid, how he would act, and you sir, are not him. My father would never kill or eat people for his enjoyment."
"You promised me that you would hear me out," Oliver told her.
"Well, then I guess that I can't keep my promises," Kalda smirked.
"And nor can I," Britain answered, holding a cocked pistol at Oliver.
Oliver put his arms up in surrender, standing up immediately.
"Now, hold it right there, Captain," Oliver chuckled nervously. "I was just leaving, I swear."
"You're messing with the wrong Brit if you think for one second that Kalda is your daughter," Britain glared, "or even mine, for that matter."
"But she is," Oliver pleaded. "You get the good Kalda, the way she is right now, and then I get her Second Player side."
"I don't have a Second Player side," Kalda told him. "My personality is the equilibrium of good and bad."
"She actually is," France agreed. "I've seen it."
"I want you to leave," Britain stated.
"I already was," Oliver smirked, looking at Kalda.
Kalda glared at him, but his smirk didn't falter.
"Good day, love," he winked.
Kalda just rolled her eyes, turning her back on him.
"Well, I'll be off," he announced, and Kalda screamed.
She tackled him to the ground, raising her fist.
"Kalda, don't," Britain told her. "You hurt him, and he'll hurt you."
"He's right, Kalda dearest," Oliver laughed.
Kalda didn't care; she forced him to stand up, but he fought back.
Britain intervened, which was a huge mistake; he got ready to backhand Oliver, but being the sneaky fox that he was, Oliver pushed Kalda in front of him.
Britain didn't see his plan until it was two seconds too late; he backhanded Kalda on accident, and Kalda fell onto her back because of the force.
Everything went dead silent, Kalda holding a hand to the side of her face as she looked at Britain.
"You-you hit me?" she asked in a shaky voice, tears filling her up eyes.
"It was an accident," Britain tried to say. "Oliver made you a shield."
"You promised me that you wouldn't violate me like that," Kalda went on. "I-I have to go."
She stood up, running away from the field.
"Kaldy, wait," Veneziano called to his sister, but Kalda ignored him.
"Go after her, Veneziano," France told his brother.
Veneziano nodded, running after Kalda.
"I hit her," Britain said to himself, looking at his hand.
"It appears that my work here is done," Oliver grinned. "Oh, and Arthur, have fun dealing with the guilt. Keep in mind that this was your fault for me, okay? I can never keep track of my fun experiences."
With that, Oliver disappeared into thin air, leaving the five Allies and Germany in the field by themselves.
"I have to go and find her," Britain told them. "I have to go apologize."
"How about you let her family be zhere for her right now?" France suggested.
"No," Britain shook his head. "I can't. She might stay with them for good, then, and I know for a fact that she belongs here with us. Besides, I don't think that she has fully forgiven Romano for cutting her cheek, yet."
"Please, just leave her alone," America told him. "Hasn't she been through enough?"
"She vill be okay," Germany assured the blonde. "I know it."
"Little Kalda needs time," Russia agreed.
"I agree," China nodded.
Britain sighed, declining their ideas.
"No," he frowned. "I'm going now."
With that, he ran off to make things right.
I can't let her slip away from me, he thought. Not this late in the War. She's too vulnerable if she stays with her brothers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kalda was hugged by her brothers as she cried, relieved to have the support that she wanted and needed.
"He didn't mean to," Veneziano told his brothers after Kalda went up to her room. "I was right there. It was an accident."
"Yeah, well he still hit her," Romano stated. "I don't want her going back there only to get abused again."
"Well, you cut her on the cheek with your pocket knife!" Veneziano replied. "Why is this any different?"
"Veneziano, Romano, please don't fight over this," Seborga calmly told them. "I believe that everyone knows that the Second Players are at fault here, and that they are making you do things that you normally wouldn't have done."
Romano and Veneziano sighed in unison as they looked at each other, amber eyes meeting green eyes.
"He's got a point," Romano agreed.
"I'm sorry," Veneziano apologized. "I shouldn't have brought up the knife incident."
"It was an accident," Romano softly replied. "I would never intentionally hurt her like that."
"I know," Veneziano smiled. "This was an accident as well. Britain would never intentionally hurt her, either."
"I know," Romano nodded.
"See how peaceful you two can be?" Seborga joked.
There was a knock on the door, then, and Kalda went to open it up; she signaled her brothers to walk away, and they nodded in agreement.
Kalda opened up the door, seeing Britain standing there; he looked tired, almost like he had been running for a long time.
"English roses aren't going to fix it this time, I'm afraid," Kalda firmly told him.
"You're right," Britain admitted. "They're not."
"Although, I could have used a new bouquet," Kalda went on, ignoring his reply. "The other one is long dead, and they were a pretty shade of red."
Then she did a double take.
"Wait, what?" Kalda questioned, confused. "Did you just...agree with me?"
"I did, actually," Britain laughed. "I don't believe it either, to be honest."
"It seemed like all we ever did was fight," Kalda chuckled.
"That's not true," Britain grinned. "Only most of the time."
The two laughed harder, and that was when the three men walked into the conversation.
"If you're laughing, does that mean everything is okay?" Veneziano asked with a smile.
"I don't know," Britain answered, looking at Kalda again. "What do you think, Lady Kalda?"
"Yeah, we're okay," she replied, hugging him as he hugged her back.
"You're welcome to come back with me, if you would like," Britain offered. "You left your stuff there in the rush."
Kalda looked at her brothers, wanting their permission and opinions.
"It'll just be until the War is over, okay?" she calmly assured them. "I'm too vulnerable here."
She is beginning see things my way now, Britain thought, proud that Kalda wanted to be smart during the War.
"Please be safe," Romano told her in a soft tone. "If you died or were taken by the Second Players, ugh. I would never forgive myself."
"I know," Kalda whispered as she hugged him. "I'll be careful, I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, this was an eventful day," Kalda stated, accepting a cup of tea from her friend.
"Yes, it was," Britain agreed, sitting down beside her.
The two of them were sitting in the big field behind Britain's house, watching the sunset.
"I didn't think that they would actually allow me to come back, though," Kalda chuckled softly, slowly running her finger over the rim of the tea cup. "They're normally a little more defensive about the topic."
"I could imagine," Britain replied. "Although, I'm surprised that you wanted to come back. You didn't have to."
"Well, I would be a liar if I said that I didn't like it here," Kalda smiled, looking at him.
"There's probably other places that you would like to go, though, right?" Britain smiled back. "Why do you love this place so much?"
"I feel a strange connection to it for some reason," Kalda answered, "almost like...I belong here."
"It does have a friendly aura, I'll give you that," Britain agreed, lying on his back and closing his eyes.
"Again, you agreed with me," Kalda chuckled, lying on her back as well.
"Well, I figured that there would be some new adjustments for me," Britain answered.
"Whoa," Kalda joked. "Don't go speeding down the racetrack yet. I'm not that worth it."
"You are, actually," Britain said, looking at her. "I mean, you've got boys fighting for you left and right."
"Oh, please," Kalda replied with an eye roll. "Half of them are bloodthirsty killers with weapons like kitchen utensils and whatever else they can find."
Britain burst out in laughter at her comment, taking Kalda by surprise.
"I was telling the truth," Kalda told him.
"That was so blunt!" he laughed. "I thought I taught you better than that."
"Either you're drunk or sleep deprived because the Britain I know wouldn't find this so funny," Kalda smirked.
"It's been a weird day," he explained.
"It has," Kalda smiled.
Silence fell upon them, and Kalda sighed softly as she looked at the pastel pink, blue, and purple sunset.
"Do you think that what Oliver said was true?" she wondered, breaking the silence. "Am I actually your kid?"
"Of course not," Britain dismissed. "He's a manipulative psychopath. He does that to get whatever the hell he wants."
"Well, I was just wondering," Kalda said. "He just sounded super serious. He even told me that he loved me, and then he held my hands within his."
"Ha," Britain scoffed. "He doesn't love you. None of them do."
"I kinda' figured that," Kalda stated. "I mean, why else would they be after me, otherwise?"
"I guess you have a point, there," Britain replied.
"Anyway, I have another question," Kalda went on, changing the subject.
"Really?" Britain smirked. "And what's that?"
"How did you get drunk at the Halloween party, anyway?" Kalda inquired.
"Why are you bringing that up again?" Britain questioned back. "Haven't I been scarred from that enough as it is?"
"Well, I've been wanting to know that for like, a year, but I never really got the time to ask you," Kalda explained. "So, spill. How did you do it?"
"You remember how I went to speak with Switzerland, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, why?" Kalda answered.
"Well, uh...it didn't really go well," Britain laughed, obviously remembering something.
"How so?" Kalda asked.
"Um...well, we kind of got into...a fight," Britain continued. "Anyway, it was super awkward because I don't really socialize with the Germanic States, and...we said a lot of things that we didn't mean."
"Is that why you were so upset when he came over that one day when we played football together?" Kalda wondered.
"Pretty much," Britain stated. "Ugh, I'm such an idiot."
"What exactly did you say?" Kalda replied.
"Nothing for your ears," Britain told her. "That's why I'm such an idiot."
"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to insult the Swiss?" Kalda laughed.
"Apparently not," Britain chuckled.
He sighed, smiling with content.
"I usually have better party etiquette than that," he went on, "but in all fairness, Switzerland started it. I guess no one ever told him not to insult the British, either."
"Well, now you both know," Kalda smirked.
"Ugh, I regret that so much," Britain said in a muffled voice, rubbing his hands over his face.
"So, then how does this tie into you getting drunk and sexually assaulting me, exactly?" Kalda interrogated, confused.
"Well, we felt bad for insulting each other, and then we ended up having one merry-making drink too many," Britain concluded with his story.
"That was-" Kalda cut off.
"Not smart?" Britain finished. "Tell me about it."
"I was going to say "awkward" and "irresponsible," but yeah," Kalda slowly replied. "It wasn't smart."
"Like I said, I usually have better party etiquette than that," Britain apologized. "That's also the reason why I never go to those parties."
"Now that's a proper reason," Kalda joked.
"Oh, and like you know," Britain teased.
"Oh, I think I do," Kalda replied, snuggling into his side and wrapping his arm her shoulder.
Britain blushed a little, feeling his heart pounding inside his chest; before he knew it, Kalda was asleep at his side with his arm wrapped around her as they continued to lie on the grassy field together.
She seems to be more comfortable with me now, he thought. Earlier on in our friendship, she wouldn't have even gotten this close. She would have just hugged me and ran off.
Britain was beginning to think that Kalda liked him more than she was letting on, and he assumed that it wasn't in a friendly way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Please, don't go!" Kalda cried, trying to stop the five men from walking out of the door. "You're going to die!"
"Calm down, Kalda," Britain calmly assured her. "That's the whole reason why we're fighting in this War. We're trying to end the death."
"No, I mean you guys are going to die!" Kalda tried to persuade them. "You're going to get shot and killed, and then what am I supposed to do?"
"It's okay, Kalda," America replied with a smile. "We're going to be fine, I promise."
The five men walked out of the house, leaving Kalda alone.
Kalda sighed, sitting down on the couch; feeling tired, she fell asleep to calm herself down.
When she woke up, she assumed that a few weeks had passed because her friends came through the door.
They were muddy, bloody, and stinky, their outfits clearly ruined with rips and tears in them.
"What happened?" Kalda asked in worry, seeing the sullen looks on their faces.
France and America brought a bleeding Britain into view, and Kalda gasped.
"We have to go to the hospital, Kalda," America told her. "The doctors on the battlefield couldn't help him."
Kalda nodded, getting into the car with them to go to the hospital.
Once they got there, Britain was immediately put into surgery.
Kalda paced back and forth outside his room, wanting to barge in to see if he was okay.
The doctor finally came out of the room, a clipboard in his hand.
"He's still out, but he will be fine," he stated, walking away.
Kalda went into the room, sitting by Britain's bed; she saw the heart monitor, the steady beep...beep...beep, repeating over and over again.
Kalda took Britain's hand in both of hers, crying as she held his hand up to her lips to kiss the top of it.
"Oh, Britain!" she sobbed. "Please don't be dead! This is why I told you not to go!"
Kalda was filled with guilt, hearing the other four Allies telling her all of the wrong things that she had done.
She closed her eyes, wanting to drown out the sound; suddenly, Kalda opened up her eyes just in time to hear the heart monitor flatline, seeing that Britain had no heartbeat and that his heart had stopped.
"NO!" Kalda screamed in agony.
She fell to her hands and knees, angry and hurt tears streaming down her face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kalda woke up, panting from the dream she just had; she walked down the hall, finding Britain's room.
All of the bedrooms were on the top floor, except for the attic room, and Kalda instinctively knew which room was which.
Kalda quietly opened up the door, but the door gave a few creaks; the creaks made Britain jump in fright, making him turn to his side to see what was going on.
"Kalda?" he asked, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he was seeing her right. "What are you doing in here?"
"I had a bad dream," Kalda told him in a choked up voice, walking into his room as she closed the door behind her. "You died at the end."
"I did?" Britain softly wondered, a small smile on his face as he turned the bedside lamp on. "Well, we can't have that, now can we? Did you know that I can't die?"
Kalda sniffled and slowly shook her head in answer.
"Come here and I'll tell you a story, okay?" Britain told her, patting a spot beside him on his bed.
Kalda walked up to his bed, sitting next to him as she pulled the blankets over her lap.
"You have your flag as a blanket," Kalda smiled, looking at the quilt.
"Yes, quilting is a fun hobby of mine," Britain answered with a grin.
"And apparently needlework as well," Kalda laughed, looking at the many sewing projects that Britain had hung up in his room.
"They're quite calming if you're in the wrong mood," Britain explained.
Kalda laughed, laying her head on the vacant pillow by Britain's.
"I can't wait to hear your story tomorrow," she muttered, instantly falling asleep.
Britain smiled softly to himself, taking the risk of stroking her head; he got on his side, stroking her soft, now blonde hair.
This dye is probably never going to come out, he mentally laughed.
He sighed as he hugged her close to him, her back against his chest.
France may be perverted at times, but he is right, Britain thought. Kalda came to me, though. I promised myself that I wouldn't violate her, and I've done that twice now, but if she wants to sleep with me, in my bed because she wants protection, then I say by all means, Kalda, come to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, both Kalda and Britain were woken up from their peaceful slumber by a loud voice.
"SERIOUSLY?" France yelled in horror. "YOU TWO ACTUALLY SLEPT TOGEZHER?"
France attacked Britain, just barely missing Kalda in the process.
Kalda was astonished; for once, France hated something that he would have normally encouraged a long time ago.
He whacked Britain with a pillow over and over again, ranting on and on about how Britain wasn't a gentleman and how he had just violated his favorite, and his only, niece.
Kalda sighed, knowing that it was going to be a very long day.