Endure
"Poor fool" Britain sighed to himself as he sat in his office looking over the latest reports. The time was WWII and France had just, according to the report, been forced into surrendering to Germany. "Bugger! That bloody wanker is relentless." He commented to himself, referring to Germany's boss. Just then, Britain felt immense pain in his back. He knew exactly what the pain was, somewhere he had just been attacked by Germany; it's that fobbish tactic he calls Blitzkrieg. He breathed in sharply but otherwise ignored the pain; he had learnt to deal with this type of pain from the numerous wars he had fought previously throughout his expansive existence.
"The bloody bastard must be after me next!" just then the phone rang. It was his boss; "Those damned Nazis have made the United Kingdom their new target," he began, "but don't worry those potato eating buggers won't take us!" "Well I'm pleased to hear your spontaneity, sir." Britain deadpanned in response, an obvious sweat-drop forming on his brow. The rest of the conversation was short and mostly pep talks from his boss which Britain only half-payed attention to. After hanging up with him Arthur decided to keep working on his paperwork.
A couple of days later he had just finished supper with London, his little sister. "Alright, you've finished your supper?" London delicately wiped her mouth, "Yes." "Good girl, off to bed with you, then." She nodded, rose from her seat and gave him a peck on the cheek and a, "Good night Brother." He nodded, "Good night, love." After she had left he sighed, well it's a bit odd, the pain seems to have gone…He rose from his chair and made his way to his room to get some rest.
He lay down in his bed and had only shut his eyes for what felt like a minute when he jolted awake with a sickening feeling in his gut and an unfamiliar fear in his heart. Britain looked at the clock at his bedside; it read 2:23 AM. The horrible feeling was still in his chest and right when he was about to attempt to ignore it, "Arthur!" his name was screamed.
London! Was his immediate thought as he jumped out of bed and padded quickly down the hall to his little sister's bedroom. "London! Are you alright?" he exclaimed. London was sitting upright in her bed, her covers askew, her green orbs shut as she hugged herself and sobbed. "Arthur!" she cried again. Britain was immediately there; he sat on the edge of her bed and wrapped an arm around her. "Shhh, Love everything's fine. I'm here. I'm here, shh" he soothed as he attempted to calm his emotional little sister.
"N-no! I-it's not! M-m-make I-It stop! Please." She cried on. That's when it dawned on him. "Damn that Germany!" he cursed under his breath. "Darling, I'm sorry I can't make the pain go away." He said sadly while brushing her hair out of her face and away from her damp cheeks. "W-why not?" she asked as she was now hunched over crying softly in pain. He sighed before answering regretfully, "I've felt that same pain for a couple of days before this. There's nothing you or I can do but endure it until the end."
She sniffed slightly, "w-well that's stupid." She cringed, "endure" she mumbled. Britain nodded, "That's right. Just know I'll be here for you all the way," he rubbed slow circles on her back to soothe her. London exhaled shakily then rubbed an arm over her eyes and hiccupped then hugged Britain around the neck. "Arthur, thank you! I love you big brother." "I love you too, London." He said as he hugged her back. "Now try to get some sleep. I know it's easier said than done but just try to endure, alright love? And don't you worry we'll win this battle."
He felt slightly better seeing as his sister was now able to sit without cringing in pain however he decided he'd sit with her just until she fell asleep. He turned and shut off her bedside lamp that he'd turned on quickly upon entering her room. She'd laid herself back down however his action cause her to clutch at his arm in alarm, "p-please don't go yet." His eyebrows rose at her plead before he simply smiled warmly down at her. He once again brushed her hair from her dampened forehead before saying softly, "wouldn't dream of it love."
He sat, true to his word, humming a lullaby softly in the comforting light provided by the moon shining outside her window. He stroked her head rhythmically and finally when her breathing had evened out and he was sure she was comfortable, he left the room; leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a soft smile on her face.
A.N. I don't know why I was so not happy with the way this turned out. Ah, oh well. What am I to do? It's supposed to be WWII when Germany went all blitz on London and Britain. I tried to make it a nice bout of sibling fluff with comfort and words to encourage perseverance, *sigh* oh well. Thanks for reading, please review and tell me what you think! Toodles!