Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. The plot belongs to waterylt on you can see some of her work at:
h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / (no spaces)
The comic strip can be found here h t t p : / / w a t e r y l t . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / 8 6 8 2 . h t m l (no spaces)
Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya
The first day was Hell. (Please don't mind the pun.) I remember vaguely wondering if this was the kind of torture the souls of the damned went through. If so I'm starting to feel sorry for them- but not much mind you.
I broke away from our little staring match to make some tea to calm my mind but as soon as I headed over to the kitchen I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet against the floor. I stopped, it stopped, I continued, it continued. Whipping around I met the curious blue of the little angel. The rest of his face and most of his body was covered by that stuffed rabbit it- damn it I mean he!-seemed to like so much.
"What are you doing?" I asked him. My voice leaked anger and annoyance but the angle really didn't seem to notice. All it did in response was grin at me again and flutter its wings happily sending feathers flying everywhere. That is going to take forever to clean up. That thought did nothing to help my anger, quite the opposite actually.
Were angels incapable of detecting anger or reading the atmosphere at all?
In the end his response answered that question.
"I'm following you."
I pinched the bridge of my nose in an unsuccessful attempt to compose myself. "I can see that," I mumbled. "Why?"
" 'Cause you're my mammy."
The lights flickered and the shadows in the room danced before peeling from the wall forming into a thick, black mist.
"I am male," My voice was warped and sounded absolutely horrific if I do say so myself. Only then did I realize that I was responsible for the shadows. I looked down at the little angel. Tremors of fear shook its body and the minute being held on to the stuffed rabbit like its life depended on it. Those eyes locked onto mine – those big, blue eyes – and I forced myself to calm down. B-but not because I cared you see! Only because…if..if…if it –heee- faints or something he won't be able to do the work around the house like a useful pet…Yeah. The shadows went back to their rightful place and the lights turned back on. I sighed before returning my gaze to the newly hatched creature. I made the most comforting face I could before trying to speak to him again.
"Don't call me mommy okay? That's for women and I'm a man. You have to call me Daddy if you want to call me something like that."
The innocent little thing just nodded his head before grabbing onto my shirt with a chubby hand. We made our way to the kitchen like that, where I started to prepare the tea. This was also where he seemed to work up the nerve to start asking questions; a lot of questions.
"What's it do?"
"Something that comes from plants."
Recognition flooded the angel's face and he tugged on my shirt to get my full attention. I looked down to see him pointing out the window, to the bid oak tree and various flowers in the garden.
"Plants." He stated confidently with a smile. I couldn't help but to smile back
"Yes they're plants."
-time skip -
I took the finished tea and returned to the living room, well aware of my little pet following behind me. I sat down at the dining room table and leisurely sipped it. I didn't enjoy it as much as I usually do because I could feel a pair of eyes staring at me. Sighing I turned to him. He looked nervous and his face was back to being buried in the rabbit fur. He looked so cute! I mean..to you weak minded humans, obviously.
"What do you want now?" I asked. Taking care of this angel spawn better pay off in the end.
He didn't respond right away, choosing instead to stare at the ground and make circles in it with his feet.
"I'm hungry Ma-Daddy." He said in a soft, desperate voice. This surprised me greatly; I didn't know angels needed to eat food. I always thought they lived off the goodness of human hearts like some weird parasite or some crap like that.
"Okay then, what do you want?" I replied, getting up and going on my second trip to the kitchen for the morning. Putting the empty tea cup and saucer into the sink I started my hunt for food. The fridge was empty and the cupboards too.
"Crap." I mumbled to myself remembering that I had used up all the food in my quest to make myself lunch some days ago that resulted in burning the kitchen and triggering the apartment alarm. Last month's achievement report actually. I would need to go to the supermarket and pick up food but I didn't know what the angel could eat and I can't take him with me until he learns how to hide his wings. Frowning, I turned around, expecting to see the angel behind me but was met only with my slightly charred kitchen and air. I let my green eyes scan for him. I immediately picked up his sandy blonde hair. He was sitting on the living room floor playing contently with the stuffed toy and didn't seem to notice me. I needed to get his attention.
"Hey! Angel!...Kid!...arg! You there in front of the telly!"
In the end I don't think it was that he realized that I was calling him as much as it was that he wanted to know where the noise was coming from. I really needed something to know where the noise was coming from. I really needed something better to call him than 'the angel.' When he came over I tried to remedy this problem.
"What's your name kid? I asked.
"I don't know," was the response. I was taken aback.
"You mean you aren't born knowing your name?" He nodded. We demons are born knowing our name since it holds so much power over us. To prevent it from being known we have a fake name also. This changes repeatedly over the years as we find another name that we think sounds better or helps us fit into our chosen society better. However, considering what the angel just told me it doesn't work the same way for angels, so how do they get their names and more importantly how will I address him?
"So what do you want to be called? I inquired, desperate for something to call him by. The angel just grinned, again, and gave the most useless reply.
"Anything that Daddy wants to call me is fine."
Thinking that he was kidding I tries again.
He gave me the same answer. Groaning I pressed the palm of my hand to my forehead and slowly dragged it down my face in an attempt to rid my head of the annoyance that was building up quickly.
"I'm not good with names," I admitted. "So pick one yourself."
"Anything that Daddy wants to call me is fine."
I lost my temper for a minute there and I was about to open my mouth to tell him exactly what Daddy wanted to call him when there was a loud grumbling. We both looked down at the same time. While I was wondering how anything in existence could make such a loud noise the angel reminded me of my original task.
"Daddy," he whined. "I'm hungry."
I snapped back to reality. After mumbling something about food so incoherent that not even I know what I was saying I walked to the front door, grabbing my jacket along to way to keep up appearances. It was early spring so to humans it would still be a bit chilly. Fixing my jacket I looked at my little pet.
"Since you're my pet you need to make yourself useful, so clean up all the feathers you shed in the house," I ordered. "and…ummm." I looked around for something else for him to do so I don't have to. Spotting the mop leaning against the wall by the kitchen I rushed over and grabbed it. "Mop the floors too." I said, thrusting it in his hands.
That's about it. I thought to myself, looking around. My eyes landed back on the angel.
"I'm going now." I stated. My new pet lifted the bucket away from his face, using the other hand to hold on tightly to the towering forms of the broom and mop along with some other cleaning supplies. He looked stricken. His lower lip trembled and tears welled up in his eyes.
"You're leaving me?" All alone in a big house forever? Don't leave me Daddy! I love you!" He cried. I gaped unbelieving before crouching down to his level. I removed to bucket from its perch on his head and unhooked the duster from his ear.
"I'm not leaving you forever. I will be back. Before you know it I'll be walking through the door, so don't cry. It makes you look disgusting." That was the closest thing to comforting I could do but I was surprised at how sincere I sounded. The angel sniffed and let all the cleaning materials he was holding clatter to the ground to messily wipe away his tears.
"You promise?" he stuttered between hiccups. I naturally hesitated for a fraction of a second. Demons do not bind themselves to something unless they get something out of it in the end. I shook my head furiously to clear my mind before confirming his statement suddenly. "I promise," B-but not because I cared about him you see I-it's b-because I'll have to come back to my house anyway you stupid humans. Hmpf.
Rubbing away the last of his tears my baby angel muttered on okay. Taking that as he's feeling better I open the door and step out into the spring air. I started to close the door but just before it clicked into position I heard a soft whisper.
"Bye bye Daddy."
Smiling to myself I dug the house keys from my pockets and locked the door. Turning around and starting my walk to the car I was hit with a sudden realization. Anything that wished to enter my house of all things usually would not be deterred by a simple lock and my little angel could always unlock it from the inside and get lost! Another scenario popped into my head. One involving Francis and anything involving Francis is never good. A second scenario involving Francis entered my mind, then another, and another, and another…
Spinning around I sprinted to the door preparing my strongest shield spell that would ensure that nothing but me could get in or out. I stopped myself from running into the wall and placed my hands on the wall. Almost immediately a purple wave of energy engulfed the house before dissipating. Calming down significantly I restarted my trek to the car.
I almost laughed out loud at the irony of what I held in my hand.
'Halo baby powder milk formula has the perfect nutrition and taste for your little angel' was written on the tin in a tasteless form of cursive. I scoffed but threw it in the rapidly filling cart anyway. Making my way to the cashier I stopped when something caught my eye. Teeny containers of baby food lined the shelves. My angel's physical appearance and mental capability seemed like that of a three year old despite being born yesterday. Would that mean he would eat like a three year old? I hadn't thought of that before. That would mean I would have to buy a lot of solid food. Then again he's never eaten before so he should start with something mild.
Throwing some in the cart I continued to the cashier. I emptied the shopping cart onto the counter and waited for the teenager to finish doing her job. My eyes wandered over to the small magazine rack above the counter. Every single one had Francis' scandal on the cover. There was whatever president's wife and in all his disguised glory was Francis. Complete with straight brown hair and dark eyes. One even had Francis and the president's wife – uuhg! What the hell was that! Who would put that on a magazine!
Quickly looking away I focused on the brightly colored candy. There I spotted something stuck between the wall and the rack. Honestly, humans these days are so untidy. Pulling the object from the tight space it was in I studied it. It was a book. It was at least an inch thick with thin, yellowing pages and a leathery cover. It felt dusty to the touch and the 'old book' smell was coming off it in waves. I wondered exactly how long the book had been stuck there.
The title was faded but I could still make it out. 'A History of Names.' This is just what I needed. If I wasn't what I was I would have called it a miracle. The names were probably out of date but a name is a name. I threw it on the pile. The rest of my time in the supermarket consisted of dodging the attempts of the teenager to find out every single thing about my personal life.
The drive back home was uneventful but that changed very soon. That was surprising since everything started out fine. I pulled into the drive way and everything was fine. I took the bags out of the car and everything was fine. I walked up to the front door and everything was fine. I took out the keys and everything was fine. I opened the front door and promptly shut it. Everything was not fine. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes. Please tell me that Francis, Gilbert or Antonio learnt how to cast spells and made me see that with an illusion thereby eliminating the need for me to do a mass memory wipe whenever they (mostly Francis) do anything stupid. Please tell me that- well you get it. I chanted this a few more times in my head before grasping the door knob.
Feeling the cold metal against my palm I forced the dread from my body. Just hurry up and get it over with. I thought to myself. I rotated my wrist. It's just an illusion, something that's not really there. Right, it's not there. Not there! Gaining a sudden burst of courage I swung the door open. I could hear it push against the wind and smash into the wall with tremendous force but I couldn't see it. I felt like I couldn't see anything. Nothing that I saw registered in my mind for a long time. That meant I was left staring at my living room like a complete moron. I had a perfectly good reason to though.
The living room was a complete mess. There was a layer of dust over everything, so thick that you couldn't see the colors of any of the furniture. There was an equal amount of dust floating around the room that could be seen with the bare eye. The floor was caked in mud that matched the mud on the walls though much, much drier. Then to top it all off there were feathers everywhere that somehow managed to stay white. I have never been so close to tears in my life.
I looked for the only person capable of doing this: the angel. Scarily, he was no way to be seen. I only told him to clean the living room but what if he decided to 'clean' anywhere else? I shuddered at the thought.
I stepped inside and even through my shoes I could feel the grime on the floor. I spotted the stuffed rabbit on the couch. If that was there the angel couldn't be too far away.
I called for him and didn't have to wait long because sound of toddler sized feet hitting the filth covered ground as soon as I opened my mouth.
"Daddy!" he screamed, launching himself at me with his arms open for a hug. Something hit me with the force of a freight train and I was literally thrown back onto the porch.
Groaning,, I looked on my chest for the culprit. The angel who has yet to me named was laying on me, hugging me with enough force to force the air out of my lungs.
Had he always been this strong?
"Daddy! Daddy! You did come back! I missed you daddy!"
"Yeah." I murmured trying to get some air back in my lungs. .
"But I have a question Daddy," He said looking absolutely confused. He gestured to the living room, "is that what clean looks like?"
"No." I answered. I sat up, causing the blue eyed hatchling to slide down onto my lap. The-angel-who-I-really-need-to-get-a-name-for looked up at e with a face that screamed dejection and sadness. "But it's okay."
I placed a hand on his head to calm him. I could feel the dirt in it, and if I worked my fingers in deeper I could feel slime that very much resembled egg white.
Wonder how long that's been festering there.
"Hm?" I drew back my fingers from his hair and followed his gaze.
"That's the book where I am hoping to get a name for you."
"Really? Can I get one now?" he begged. I rolled my eyes.
"I thought you said you were hungry." I smiled when he blushed.
"After a bath."
I moved him off my lap to pick up the fallen groceries, ignoring the protests of it being too cold. He's been complaining about the cold ever since he hatched. The only time he wasn't complaining about it was when he is in physical contact with me. I wondered if he was just the touchy-felly type since explaining to him repeatedly that there was no way my body heat could be higher than the inside of the house didn't seem to deter him.
After packing out the groceries I found myself with in the bathroom next to a filthy angel and a full tub. Sighing- I've been doing that a lot lately- I removed the…uuuh…dress that he was wearing. It came of easily despite the fact that they had two angel wings sticking out of it.
Wait a minute. Damn! I forgot to get clothes for him and the wings probably ripped the back to shreds. I might be able to salvage it with my needlework skills though. Picking up the dress I looked at the back. It was perfectly fine! No rips, scratches or any kind of damage at all, in fact it was not even dirty. Strange. I looked back and forth between the angel's wings and the dress before dropping it over the wings. I watched as it drifted down towards the wings and pass right through them! I did this over and over again. The angel was looking at the bubbles in the bath and didn't seem to notice at all. Hmm.
"How about Alfonso? This was the name of six kings of Portugal and kings of several ancient regions of Spain."
The rest of the bath had gone without incident and now I am sitting with the angel on my lap while discussing names for the angel that were in the book. Well trying to at least.
"Anything Daddy wants to call me is fine," he responded. That was the only reply I was getting from him through the whole thing. I was determined to make him choose his own name and I was not giving up until then.
"Okay then, how about Alfred? It was the name of a 9th-century king of Wessex who fought against the Danes living in the northeast of England. He was also a scholar, and he translated many Latin books into Old English. He was and still is regarded as a hero to many people in Britain."
I waited for his response already expecting it to be the usual but I got a pleasant surprise instead.
"Yes a hero," Seeing his confused face I quickly gave a short definition. "a person of well-known courage or ability who is admired for his brave deeds and good qualities. Basically someone that helps others"
"I wanna be a hero. Can I have this name Daddy?"
I almost danced with the relief I felt that he finally chose a name. "Of course Alfred," I said making sure to use his new name. He absolutely beamed with joy.
"Let's get you to bed now." I picked him up and carried him to my room. The guest bedroom was being used to hold many of my old things so until I cleaned it up he would have to stay with me. I lay him gently on the bed and was going to climb in myself (I think I deserved a good night's rest for all I've been through) I heard a familiar growling. I looked at him warily. "I thought you said you weren't hungry."
That was how I found myself in the kitchen preparing a bottle of milk for Alfred. Alfred…Alfred…Aaaalfreeeed. Sounds strange, especially since I had known Alfred the Great-the one he got the name from. But it is his name now and I'll have to call him by it. It's better than having to call him 'the angel.'
With that thought I returned to the bedroom with the bottle in my hands. I gave it to him and slipped into a pair of pajamas before crawling under the covers as well. Ahh~ today had been trying but I prevailed in the end and now I will be awarded with a good night's rest. Yes…peaceful…slumbe-
So much for peaceful slumber. I opened my eyes and turned to face Alfred.
He raised the still-full bottle to my face with a pleading look on his. I got the silent message.
"I am not going to feed you. You have your own arms, use them." I resorted, ready to go to sleep. He looked up at me with that same pleading look. I was not going to have my will bent by an angel only a day old! I am Arthur Kirkland: one of the highest ranking demons in the Underworld, Dark Knight of Europe, The most feared pirate, Ruler of the seven se- are those tears? Was he crying?
A minute later he was cuddled against my chest, sucking on the bottle that I was holding. I didn't do this because I caved in you see! Only because I didn't want the sheets wet because of his tears. Stupid humans.
I didn't know when he finished drinking the milk, or when he fell asleep because I was dead to the world not long after.
Hello everyone that is reading this, I come to you from the afterlife where I am now residing after dying from being *coughlazycough* overworked. I am very sorry for the delay but this took longer than I expected and me being lazy also had something to do with it.
But writing this has been really amusing 'cause I since I live in the Caribbean (anyone who guesses which country gets to request what they want in their very own chapter of this story!) I write in British English so I put my spell check to American English since I figured a lot of my readers would be American. Therefore some words I think are right technically aren't. Apparently whenever this happens to me I 'make a strange noise and start laughing.' It's fine if you're alone but when you're in public people look at you funny.
Oh well, thank you for reading this far and constructive criticism is welcomed.
Thank you waterylt, cat'akai, TheNinjaWangsta and BrokenBridges. Reviews make my day.