Brotherhood (New Zealand Countryhumans)

Oblivious

Australia's POV:

I'm not as oblivious as he thinks I am. I know what he is doing. I thought it would be different. I really hoped it would be different. But it's not. It never is. It never will be.

I always had a bad feeling about him, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. And like everyone else, they think I'm oblivious to the violence. I mean, I'm just a dumb kid, I don't know the difference between discipline and abuse.

Sitting outside, I shakily sigh and looked at the ground. I feel so helpless. I started picking at the grass as I waited patiently for Dad 2 to stop. He seemed so good at first but he is no different to UK.

I stopped picking the grass and put my hand in my pocket. I felt something and pulled it out. It was the toy car Sweden had delivered to me. He said UK had found it. I looked down at the small car. It was blue with red stripes.

I heard a door within the house slam closed and I dropped the car. I could feel my pulse heighten as I picked up the car again and noticed the once was clean pattern was now dirty. I tried to wipe the dirt off, but it kept getting stuck between the small details and in between the wheels.

I was starting to feel frustrated and eventually I just threw the car across the garden and it disappeared into the grass.

"I didn't like that one anyway," I muttered. I stood up and walked back inside, closing the door behind me. I couldn't hear any yelling, any doors slamming. It was just quiet aside from the faint whimpering being muffled by the door.

I went to the kitchen and crawled under the table. There were no spiders under this table to keep me company, but it's better under here than out there. But Kiwi is out there. I miss the days when I never knew him.

When I was first taken by UK, I hated him and France and Canada and America! I hated them more than anything and I was the only person I looked out for. I didn't care when America was getting beaten, I didn't care. I only cared about me.

And then Kiwi had to f#cking come along! He is just like me and I hate it! Why did I get attached to him?

Suddenly, I could hear Netherlands' footsteps as he approached the table and sat down at one of the chairs. He didn't know I was under the table, so I kept quiet. I listened to him as he lit another cigarette and sighed grumpily.

I noticed something that made my stomach turn. A small splatter of blood on his shoes. I started worrying. Crawled out from under the table, hoping that Netherlands wouldn't notice.

"If you are going to find New Zealand, take a first aid kit," Netherlands muttered.

France's POV:

I was not going to leave my house at all without Canada. I must keep my eyes on Canada at all times. I still had to go to work though, but I didn't trust anyone. I still didn't know who it was who took my child and Canada won't tell me.

I was worried. I don't know what had happened to him.

"Mom, did you want me to make you pancakes?" Canada asked. It was late in the afternoon and I had been spending my afternoon ensuring the doors and windows were locked. Maybe I was being a little paranoid but what do you expect a mother to do after her child was kidnapped.

I didn't feel up to making dinner so I allowed Canada to make us pancakes. I was sitting down at the kitchen bench and was looking down at my papers I needed for work. I felt dizzy, but it wasn't too bad.

Canada placed a plate of pancakes down in front of me with a knife and fork. I picked up the knife and fork and began eating as Canada sat down next to me, eating from his own plate. I was thankful that he was back.

"Nothing bad happened to me Mom." Canada sighed as he placed another forkful in his mouth.

"Are you telling the truth?" I asked.

"Yes. I promise." He mumbled. He seemed a little distant.

"I need to go into work tomorrow for a meeting," I said.

"You wanted me to come to work with you?" He asked. I nodded as I took the last bite of my pancakes.

"You can sit in the corner of the meeting room," I explained. He didn't seem too happy with that, but he didn't fight with me on it. I picked up our empty plates and stuck them in the sink, turning the tap on.

I washed the first dish and Canada grabbed a tea towel and started drying. I was so thankful to have a son like him.

"It's getting late, I'm going to go to bed," Canada yawned as he put the last dish away. I nodded and finished cleaning up the kitchen. By the time I had finished, I could barely keep my eyes open. I turned off the light and stumbled to the direction of my room.

I closed the door behind me and let out a small yawn. I got changed into my nightie and hopped into bed. Before I turned off the lamp, I looked at the photo frame that sat next to the lamp. It was my wedding day. The day I made a mistake and UK became my husband.

My dear twisted husband. A joke of a relationship built on alcohol and control. He stood next to me in the photo with the charming grin I fell in love with, perched on his face.

We built a family out of broken glass and it's still just as easy to shatter.

My eyelids became heavy and slowly I allowed my eyes close and I fell asleep.