Every morning, the routine was the same: Get up, get dressed, comb your hair and teeth, clean the rooms, wash the windows, sweep the floors, and prepare breakfast. Before nine, of course, or else Ivan would come down stairs in a rage and smash the closest thing on the Baltics' heads. The family, however, had been growing accustomed to this ever since they formed the Soviet Union. Katyusha was the eldest: She received no punishment out of respect. Natalia was feared by all in the home: None harmed her, and if she was pushed against, it resulted poorly. The Baltics, though, were the beating toys of Russia, who often came home in a drunken stupor. Though, they all handled the situation well, by staying as happy as possible in front of one another, and leaving their sorrows behind until they could break into pieces in the confinement of their bedrooms.

Natalia was accustomed to this life, and refused to let anything change it. She was happy this way. (Not really happy, content would be a better word, for the girl had never experienced true happiness.) This morning was no different from the routine described above: All awoke early in the morning, took care of personal hygiene, and then separated to handle their own chores. Natalia, ever the lazy child, managed to retrieve Lithuania and switch chores with him: He cleaned the library and she cooked. As nine in the morning stammered about, all the Union members were clamoring to sit in their appropriate seats at the large, rectangular table, their plates in front of them and their drinks being poured. Natalia sat, fidgeting in her seat, waiting on Ivan to come down the steps and find something wrong with the house or the meal, or perhaps he was secretly planning their death now? They all sat in silence, staring at one another with looks of worry and annoyance, along with fear. Nothing was ever out of order here, and Ivan, the man who hated it to be so, was causing more chaos than he probably realized. As they sat, they refused to move, until at eleven, the door to the house creaked open, and a loud, childish booming voice shouted, "Privet, I am home! Everyone is awake, da?" All members of the family rose from their seats, and quickly made their way into the front room. Natalia, having dashed in front of the others, arrived and grabbed his sleeve, anger obvious on her face.

"Vanya! Where have you been? Breakfast will need to be thrown out! No one ate!" She roared, not fearing any rebound from her older brother. He smiled down at his sister, before patting her on the head.

"We have a new member of the family. You will go help with the bags, da?" He then walked to Ukraine without waiting for Belarus' answer. At this point, she thought being in the same room as her careless Vanya would be dangerous for the both of them, so she opened the door (Without a jacket or shoes) and stepped into the snow. She saw the old car and the trunk hoisted open, along with someone digging around. She growled, stomping over and pushing the person aside.

"Let me get it. You're taking too long." She sneered, before feeling the bags torn from her arms. She frowned, before grabbing them. She looked at whoever dare to take something from her, and grimaced. No wonder someone had had the guts to do something of the sort: She was dealing with a certain cocky albino German, namely Prussia, or Gilbert, if she was feeling friendly. Of course, she was never friendly.

Ever.

Natalia took the bags inside with Prussia in tow, the man not having said a single word to her since his arrival, which she found odd. She wasn't going to ask him to elaborate on his sudden ability to not make her want to stab him, though. As they walked, she was surprised to find that Lithuania was not following them, nor was Latvia. She gave an aggravated sigh of annoyance at the thought of Ravis and Toris constantly following the girl around the way they did. She opened the door to his room, which subsequently happened to be across the hall from her own, and walked inside, laying the bags on his bed. She turned around, watching him slip past her to set his armful of luggage onto the bed as well, before he turned to her.

"I will show you around the house. Then we shall assign your chores. All rise at six, every morning. All shower every morning. We eat at exactly nine, every morning, so be in your seat on the dot." She nodded her head; sure she'd told him everything he would need to know. She then turned to leave the room, closing the door as she swiftly walked downstairs.

Gilbert didn't speak much his first few days in the Soviet mansion. For some reason, Natalia became agitated and annoyed by this. He wasn't to begin chores for one week: Until he was accustomed to life in the house. He came out of his room for eating and bathing, or occasionally when Natalia and Katyusha dragged him out when Ivan wasn't home. They'd usually managed to get him to mumble thanks when serving him his coffee or when they threw him a throw-blanket that Natalia had knitted. (She was the one who actually made Ivan's scarf, too, but she forced Katyusha to give it to him. It never bothered her that everyone thought otherwise.) The one time he'd shown much emotion to them was the ghost of a smile, when he saw that his "name" was actual the Prussian flag, knitted into a small corner. As they sat on a storming night, the snow falling heavily, Natalia managed to get a word out of Prussia.

"Were you one of the men who invaded Belarus during the war?" She asked, filling his cup up for a third time with hot, steaming coffee. She then sat next to Katyusha and Eduard, who was playing on his laptop. She then looked up, not seeming as cold and cruel as she always did at meetings. He nodded his head slowly, before opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I was still part of Germany back then. When he went to war, so did I. I came to handle Belarus, while he went on to Russia. We had an encounter, but I don't think you'll remember."

He nodded his head, before looking at her with dull, tired eyes. Natalia furrowed her brow a bit, trying to remember the battles. She knew that in her memory there was a haze, something she could not remember, but it never occurred to her why.

"What happened to me?" She asked, her strong and cool exterior hiding her slightly terrified interior. The girl felt vunerable and weak.

"I shot you in the rib three times. You kept screaming at me, telling me I would parish at your brother's hands, that Ivan would come save you. I-" He stopped, before looking into the black darkness of the coffee. "I had to order someone to shut you up no matter what. Even though, after a few threats, the screams… Turned into nothing more than screams of pain. Which was worse than the threats." He looked up, shame washing over him in a wave of guilt. Natalia's eyes were focused on the dregs of her memory, her brain fighting to remember what he said. She looked up, seeing that Katyusha and Toris had horrified expressions on their faces: Katyusha's cup was clamoring against her saucer, her body shaking in horror at the thought of her precious baby sister having been put through that type of torture. Natalia put an icy hand on her sister's shoulder, before allowing her eye to tell her to calm herself.

"All is to be expected and accepted. It was an old war. I would have expected worse, in all honesty. I would have done worse, and we all know it." All sat in awe at her honesty, all but Prussia. He smirked at her, a spark in the ruby eyes coming back.

"Yeah? Think you can take me now little girl? Kesesese!" He laughed, mocking her for her small stature. Natalia grimaced.

"I can rip you apart, unawesome Prussian." The moment the words were out of her mouth, Prussia jumped from his seat, dropping and breaking the glass of coffee that was on his lap. He marched over to her, grabbed her by the wrists, and pulled her from her seat.

"Make your move then, because that was so unawesome! Prove you can take the awesome em!"

Natalia growled; she grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and kicked in the back of his knees: He collapsed to the ground, with her standing over top of him.

"You were just taken. You're weak, Hilbiert. So yes, I do think I can take you." She snapped, before her head lifted, moments before she scrambled away from him. She pushed him aside, gathering the broken cup and running into the kitchen, then returning with a wet rag. She scrubbed the floor clean, and then pulled Katyusha from her seat.

"Go. He's coming up the driveway." She mumbled, grabbing the rest of the cups and saucers and throwing them into the sink without care. She grabbed the blankets, and began trying to usher the Baltics up the stairs. Gilbert watched her in confusion. "What are you doing, Belarus?" He stared at her, before she grabbed his arm and tried to pull him to the stairs. "We nbeed to all get to our rooms and lock the doors. Vanya is home, and-" She was cut off by the opening of a door, and the girl froze.

"Privet, everyone! I am home. You are all awake, da?" She heard a laughing voice call, sending chills up her frail spine. She turned, her icy and hostile atmosphere returning as she saw her brother open his arms to her. She looked slightly surprised until she smelled the vodka on his breath, and walked into his hug. "Ah, Natalia, you're so pretty tonight! Will you come sleep in my room~?" He sighed, his nose laying in her hair. She stiffened a bit, before turning herself into a cruel inage.

"Nyet, I will not. You never want me in there when you are sober, so I will not take advantage of you when drunk, Vanya." He thrust her away from his body as she spoke, looking at her in disgust.

She stepped away, turning towards Gilbert and picking up the blankets once again. She walked past him, and as their arms brushed, they exchanged a single look: her's of warning, and his of worry. Ivan saw that Gilbert had dared to look at his younger sister, and grabbed the man by the throat.

"You like my little sestra, da?" He asked, a sadistic smile covering his features. "Well, she's mine. And you will not touch her!" He screamed, Throwing Gilbert into the wall before storming up the stairs to his bedroom. Gilbert hobbled to his feet, before staring after the man.

"W-what the Hell was that?" He choked, his ruby eyes widened in fear.

"Forgive me," Natalia began, her hand falling on the railing, "I forgot to tell you. Stay away from Ivan when he's drunk."