I cried out as fists pummelled my body. It was totally unawesome to be beaten up like this but I didn't have the energy to fight back. The bastards had cornered me on my way home. It had started off reasonably innocent, mocking me for my albinism but as I tried to leave they got violent.

There were three of them. Usually that would be no problem for the awesome me but I was tired from working all day and I was getting a totally unawesome cold. That's completely the reason I'm being beaten to a pulp in the middle of an alleyway.

I closed my eyes to wait it out. I knew I wouldn't be able to get away and trying to call for help had just ended up with a boot pressed against my throat. I was struggling not to cry. My body was bruised and painful and I just wanted to be at home. I'd been walking slowly to get as much time away from Ludwig and Feli as possible but at that moment I wanted more than anything to be in the house with them, listening to Feli ramble about pasta.

I sensed a shadow fall over me and tensed, waiting for the onslaught to begin again. It didn't. I could hear footsteps and impacts but nothing was touching me.

Slowly I opened my dark red eyes and looked up. Standing over me was a guy who looked a couple of years younger than me but at the moment probably twice a scary. His longish blond hair was swept back and his violet eyes burned with anger. He had a hockey stick clenched in both hands which he was wielding menacingly at my attackers. The leader looked like he was going to try to take the man down but seemed to chicken out at the last second. The group turned and fled.

The stranger crouched in front of me and smiled reassuringly, putting down the hockey stick and gently starting to see how badly I was hurt.

"Th-Thanks..." I muttered, shifting to sit up. My head span but I ignored it, "Who are you?"

He continued to say nothing, just nodding slightly.

"Hey dude, I'm talking to you." I glared at him, pushing his gentle hands from me. "I'm completely fine and it's rude to ignore such awesome."

He looked up at me, his deep violet gaze met mine for a moment before he slowly shook his head, lifting a hand to touch two fingers to his lips. It took me a moment to understand.

"You can't speak?"

He shook his head again, standing and stretching out a hand to me. I took it and stood as well, confused.

"How come you can't speak? Is it like physically can't or there's something that stops you or what?" I wanted to know more about my mysterious saviour. "Where did you come from anyway? Why did you stop them? I mean I'm grateful and all but I totally could have taken them on. I am awesome after all."

He smiled softly at me, his eyes looked sad for some reason. Without warning he hugged me tightly before picking up his hockey stick and turning to walk away.

"Hey dude! Where are you going? What's your name? Am I going to see you again?"

He turned back and smiled that sad smile again before shrugging his shoulders and starting to walk away again. Sighing I started to walk towards home before stopping. I turned to say something else to him.

He was gone. No sign of him anywhere. Nothing except a single white feather floating in front of my face. I took it out of the air and examined it. The white was streaked with thin lines of brownish yellow and purple. I couldn't be sure but I swear the colours were the same as his hair and eyes.

"Hey dude!" I called, wanting him to come back. Wanting him to explain. This was impossible. I looked down at the feather and stroked along it lightly before turning and starting to walk home.

My thoughts were strange as I tried to figure things out. Where had the feather come from? Who was that guy? Why had he taken it upon himself to save me? How had he made the three older and stronger looking guys leave without a word or blow? Why me? Why out of everyone who must have been in trouble at that moment had he chosen to save me?

I ran a hand through my white hair as I kept walking. One answer kept spinning around my head but I couldn't believe it. It was impossible. It was the only answer that made any sense to me but how could I believe it.

How I could believe that the man who'd protected me had been an angel? My own silent guardian angel. It would explain the feather and why he'd protected me. I smiled slightly.

Better watch out. Gilbert has his own guardian angel and he comes wielding a hockey stick.

"Awesome," I whispered.

Author's Note: Always at stupid times of night I get inspiration. I have no idea where this came from but enjoy

I don't own Hetalia. As much as I want my own hockey-stick-wielding guardian angel.