Warnings: I use alternate human names for Russia (Aleksandr) and Germany (Heinrich). Germany and Nyo!Germany, though mostly in the background, are both present as twins. Chapters 2 and especially the upcoming 3 will have strong language. If you don't have a problem with any of that, please proceed. If you do have a problem... don't read it?

-8 years old-

Gilbert lived with his younger twin siblings and their father on the edge of town, enclosed by the woods. There was no actual road to their house and the trees hung over on the way like they were reaching out for unsuspecting passerby.

Ghost stories abounded. People were also afraid of his father, who was known for getting into bar fights and getting thrown in jail for assault. His lack of an honorable discharge from the military didn't help anything. Safe to say, their little shack of a home was not somewhere many ventured.

So a knock on the door at midnight was more than a little disconcerting. Gilbert sat straight up from the bed, waking his 5-year-old siblings.

"Who's that?" Heinrich mumbled, half-asleep.

"Is Father home?" Krimhilde wondered.

"He wouldn't be knocking at the door," Gilbert told them, unsettled. They all became silent for another moment.

The knocking, quiet but deliberate, continued. Gilbert had to get out of bed and check it out―whoever or whatever it was. Krimhilde reached out for him after he climbed over them, out of bed, and pleaded, "Brother, wait, it's not safe…"

"Don't worry, I got it," he promised, patting her hand and trying to calm them with a smile. "I'll be back in two minutes! You two stay there."

On the way out of their room, he grabbed a rusty bat they kept in the hallway. It was pitch-black outside, the dead of winter, so he wasn't counting on being able to see outside if he dared to peek through the curtains.

The knocking grew silent by the time he walked to the door… which took too long considering their house was so small. He didn't know why it spooked him so much; it wasn't like he believed in ghost stories.

Maybe in an over-dramatic effort to prove to himself he wasn't scared, Gilbert swung the door open with the bat raised.

He was met with the terrified, violet eyes of a child who gasped at Gilbert's approach and fell backwards into the snow.

"Wh-What the f…" Gilbert froze in shock. What was a child doing out here?! "Who are you?!"

The boy, quivering and tearful, clutched his scarf with reddened, bare hands and gaped at Gilbert before he tried to answer. "I… I'm… I'm s-sorry…"

Stalling at the near-sobbing of a kid at their doorstep, it took Gilbert a moment to think of tossing the bat aside. (The loud clang made the boy flinch.) But… now what? "Uh… I, uhm… Scheiße!"

If someone found one of his siblings out in the middle of the night (for only God-knew what reason) while it was below 0, he hoped someone wouldn't just let them freeze to death, so Gilbert made a snap decision to help the strange, startled boy, taking his hand and pulling him off the ground to lead him into the house. "Y-your hand is cold!" he said, jittery and maybe dragging the boy a little bit. "You're freezing, right?!"

The boy was several times more nervous, stammering and stumbling along. "Uhm… I… Y-Yeah…" He had a coat, but it looked worn and thin. He was shivering. Gilbert sat him down on the couch and then threw a blanket on him. The boy stared at him with confusion, tears still running down his face.

Gilbert had no idea what he was going to do with this kid, but he hated seeing people cry. He wiped the corners of the boy's eyes, while asking, "So―what are you doing out here?! Are you crazy? What's your name?"

Blinking, and looking embarrassed, the boy replied, "A… Aleksandr. I… uhm…" He struggled to finish the answer while Gilbert was fussing, so he stopped after readjusting the blanket around his shoulders. "I… Th-thought… this was… my house…"

"Uh… what?" Wait. Suddenly something clicked. This kid―Aleksandr had a distinct accent. "Oh! You're one 'a the Russians that moved into that old house in the woods!" It wasn't like his father would shut up about it, how the Russians were going to "ruin everything". Aleksandr nodded meekly, and Gilbert asked, "You know what time it is, right?! How did you get lost?"

"Uhm…" He fidgeted and picked at his pant legs. "M-My… father f-forgot to pick me up from school… And I… I don't know where I'm going…" Aleksandr sniffled. "It's… dark… I… I'm sorry…"

Forgot to pick him up from school? It took Gilbert's tired brain a moment to piece that together. So he'd been on his own, wandering around town for hours? That pissed Gilbert off. But Aleksandr looked like he was going to start crying again, so he ruffled his hair and said, "H-Hey, it's alright." Even though it wasn't. "Uhm… You could… stay here for the night! I'll take you back home in the morning."

"Huhn… R-Really?" He blinked out a few more tears while relief washed over his face. He must not have wanted to go home that badly, Gilbert thought. "It's… okay with your parents?"

"Ah… My old man ain't gonna be back until the day after next." Because he was in jail. "So no problem!"

This was the only thing he could think to help this kid. Gilbert didn't want to try to find their house in the dark and then risk setting his father off by showing up at midnight.

Call it a sneaking suspicion that that would set his father off. Aleksandr certainly seemed grateful, hugging Gilbert tightly. "Spasibo…"

"Uh… you're welcome?" Gilbert guessed, after a pause, then wiping his face off for hopefully the last time that night. "Hey, go ahead and lay down. I'll be right back."

"Erm… O-Okay…"

He left Aleksandr to calm down while he checked on his siblings―he didn't expect them to be in the hallway. "Hey! I told you two to stay put!"

"Will he be okay?" Krimhilde asked, as they were both visibly worried.

"Ja, ja, he'll be fine. Go back to bed," he said, pushing them along.

Heinrich had other concerns, though, saying, "Father's going to be angry if he finds out…"

"Well, he won't. It ain't a big deal." It was really a strange situation, though, if he thought about it. But he couldn't kick Aleksandr out. "I'll take care of it, I promise! Go on, it's too late for you two!"

"But―"

"Bed!"

He put them back in bed and made them promise not to get up again unless they were too cold or needed something. He gave them extra blankets from their father's room and kissed them goodnight before heading back to take care of Aleksandr. It would be no sweat for him, since he had to watch Heinrich and Krimhilde all the time, anyway.

Though, despite it being after midnight, Aleksandr didn't seem like he was going to fall asleep easily. That was apparent after about 30 minutes; he didn't seem drowsy at all.

Maybe a mindless story would help. "Hey. Did you hear the story about the headless horseman that wanders around out here?"

Aleksandr stared at him for a moment, with surprise and trepidation. "The… what? Here?"

"Ja. 'Cept you don't gotta worry about him. He's stupid as shit," Gilbert said, grinning after Aleksandr snorted and covered his mouth. "His wife left him 'cause all he does is wander out in the forest lookin' for a magical stream of beer. 'Cept he can't drink from it even if he finds it, 'cause he doesn't have a head."

He won a smile out of Aleksandr, though he said, "That's… not a real story…"

"No, I swear it is!" Gilbert said. "Trust me, I know him. And, you know, since he doesn't have a head, he bumps into people and gets into fights all the time. Then they throw him in the brig. The section for Dummkopfs."

"Uhm… S-So how did he lose his head…?"

"Oh, that. Well, he throws temper tantrums. Mostly at his oldest kid. One day, he got so angry that his head just―boom!―exploded," he said, throwing his arms out. "He's such a drunk that beer's the only thing that calms him down."

"But he has no head… so… that will never happen…"

"Right! He's just gonna be a giant ball of anger the rest 'a his life. 'Till he croaks. Oh, ja, he looks like a frog, too. Or, well, he did until he lost his head."

Aleksandr laughed silently through his nose, murmuring, "Do you have any more stories about him?"

"Sure I do."

And now that Aleksandr had calmed down, he already looked sleepy. Gilbert could talk all night until he finally fell asleep.