Harem

Chapter 8: Memories

France sat on Germany's desk. Poland sat in the chair in front of it.

"So are you and Germany actually dating?" France asked, seeming as normal as she could.

"We only went on one date, but I really do love him," Poland admitted.

"So that's how it is..." France mumbled. She knew Germany better than he did himself. She knew where he kept all his stuff, who he hung out with, who he liked, who he hated, what he wore on special occasions, even down to what underwear he wore on what day. She was most obsessed with knowing what kind of flowers he liked, just in case she ever had the courage to ask him out. Ever since he was a baby he'd loved Edelweiss flowers. Knowing where he kept everything was to her advantage in certain situations, especially in this one. She got off his desk and walked around to the other side, pushing his chair out of the way. She grabbed a pocket knife Switzerland gave him for his 26th birthday that he always kept in the 3rd drawer down on the left side of his desk, and a stapler that was always with his paperwork in the 2nd drawer down on the right.

"What are you doing...?" Poland asked.

"Oh nothing..." France said. She walked over and stood above Poland. When she tried to get up, France held her down. "Don't worry, this won't hurt a single bit."

.

Germany was sitting on the couch, his legs stretched out across it. Russia sat on the far left, right next to Germany who was facing the other way. He was leaning into Russia's body, since he had his arm around Germany.

"What's taking them so long?" Germany wondered.

"I can go check," Sweden offered. Germany nodded and Sweden walked out into the room France and Poland were in. He ran over to France, who was standing above Poland, cutting her face. She started at her forehead, then moved down and down, making tiny cuts every centimeter she moved. She was almost at Poland's neck. Sweden tackled France onto Germany's desk. She squirmed and squirmed while Sweden held down her arms. 

"Denmark! Help!" Sweden called. Denmark came running in. He grabbed France by the waist and pulled her upright while Sweden took her pocket knife. Poland was unconscious, her mouth stapled shut and cuts all over her face. France had even gone as far as to cut her hair down to chin length. Before it was all the way down to her waist. 

Denmark had told Germany and Russia to stay in the sitting room. Germany was latched on to Russia, curled up and huddled in his arms. He was scared. Scared for himself, scared for Poland, scared for Sweden, scared for Denmark, and even scared for Russia, who held him tight. Russia whispered soft words in his ear, most of which Germany didn't understand because they were in Russian. Russia knew Germany couldn't understand him, but he knew Germany wouldn't calm down otherwise. Germany found Russian soothing, a beautiful language. Germany dozed off into memories, most of which he didn't want to remember. The Soviet Union carrying him out of the snow where his father lay, whispering soft words in Russian... he witnessed the death of his father first hand, he shot himself. He knew exactly what gun he had used... he remembered what it sounded like, what it smelled like, what it felt like... he remembered thinking so highly of his father... he believed he could conquer the world, so long as he tried. Seeing him give up, and in such a manner... it broke him. Back then, he wouldn't cry, he couldn't cry. His father had always told him that crying was for the weak, and the weak die to the strong, but in Soviet's arms, he cried... "The polar bear wins against the brown bear," his father said. The brown bear was Russia's national animal, and his father believed he was the polar bear. His memories drifted back into those of the Soviet Union as he gained slight consciousness and heard the soothing words of the Russian who held Germany in his arms. Soviet was never rich, but he had plenty of land. So much land that he could keep Germany secluded from Soviet's biological children. He'd always been told it was for the best. "Siblings hate each other," he said. "and I don't want you to have so many enemies." As Germany fell asleep, he felt himself get warmer, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. He didn't want to reset all his progress he had made of falling asleep. What he didn't know was that Sweden had sat next to him and Russia and was holding him as well, along with Denmark on the other side, Russia having moved over to make room. Poland was in the ambulance and France in a police car. Germany could hear it all, but he didn't want to. He wanted to stay like this. Half asleep, warm, and hearing soothing words in Russian, how it was in Soviet's house. Finally, after so many words, he understood what he was being told.