~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Warning: There is Language, blood, and violence, for this is a 2P! Story... There's bound to be language... Blood... And Violence. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Run.

That's all I think as I force my six year old legs past their limit. I can't take it anymore. All my 'Father' does is yell and beat me. I look just like mom, (H/L) (F/C) hair, (F/C) eyes, and (S/C) skin, which is as smooth as porcelain. But like porcelain, I have scars, old and new. Just faint lines, on my otherwise perfect skin. My 'father' gets set off so easily. This time it was because I sneezed in his presence. But it's his own fault, if he hadn't locked me in the cellar, while it was rainy and cold out, I wouldn't have gotten sick, and wouldn't have sneezed.

I am very, very, mature for a six year old. That's because when he started beating me after he murdered mom, I had to fix myself, apply bandages, stitch up the deep cuts, and hide the bruises. I tried to go to the police, but who would believe a 'clumsy, stupid, little girl'? No one, they prefer to believe the drunk father with the bloody knife in his hand. I've ran so far, that I don't know where I am anymore. That's good, if I don't know where I am, then he can't find me. I collapse in an ally. My dark red blood pools around me, soaking my stained, plain, white nightgown. I see the light from the street at the end of the ally. I force myself up and crawl towards it. A shadow covers the light, I panic and shrink back, thinking it's HIM. But there is no yelling, no profanity that would fill the air, no fists, or knives or bats, bruising, and cutting my skin, just silence. I look again, the shadow is smaller than the man I called 'Father'. I'm in so much pain, I reach out to him, my face begging for help. My vision goes blurry as I collapse to the ground. The only thing I think before giving in to the black abyss of unconsciousness, is 'help me'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Artie's P.O.V. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm skipping back to the hide out, a big smile on my face. I'm passing an ally when I hear a sound. It's the sound of labored breathing, grunts of pain, and the struggle to stand, or walk. I stop and watch, curious at what was making the noise. I expected a woman or a man, but instead, I see a child, of at least six years. Covered in her own blood, and crawling towards me. She flinches away when she sees me, as if she's expecting someone else. But when she realizes, that I am not in fact, who she thought, she continues towards me. She stops, about eight feet away from me. She reaches for me, her face begging for help, pain written over her features, but not a sound or tear escapes her. Her eyes glaze over a little, and she collapses to the ground. Two little words are the first things she spoke, before she passed out from pain.

"Help me..."

I immediately walked over to her and knelt beside her, not minding the blood soaking my pink and blue outfit. She looks so pale. I pick her up, so carefully, afraid that she might fall apart. Once she is in my arms, I run, careful of the girl, back to the hide out. I kick the door open, practically off the hinges. It bangs against the wall. Al and Mattie jerk their heads in my direction. Al speaks first.

"Whoa, you killed a little girl? That's a little extreme, for you." Al furrows his eyebrows. "But why did you bring her back to the hide out?"

"I didn't lay a finger on this Poppet! I found her like this, she asked for help before she passed out." I look at her in admiration. "She didn't even cry out in pain, and when her body couldn't take it anymore, she pushed it harder. She didn't even cry." Now Al's and Mattie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Come on, clear off the table, so I can patch her up." They scramble to do my bidding. Oops. I used my scary aura to get them moving. Oh, Well... Once the table is cleared off I lay the girl, gently, on the table. Mattie holds up a first aid kit to me. I grab it and my favorite kitchen knife. I began cutting the night gown off of her.

"W-What the Hell do you think you're doing?!" Al stutters. I glare at him.

"I am removing her clothing so I can stitch up the wounds on her back, sides, and stomach. I cannot do a proper job of patching her up if she still has clothes on." I growl, a little annoyed, because every sec we waste arguing, she bleeds out. Mattie puts a hand on Al's shoulder.

"He's right. He can't do a proper job, if she still has her clothes on." Mattie deadpans. Al just grumbles and walks away into the living room. I continue removing her nightie. Her body is littered with scars, old and new. I gasp in dismay. I clean and stitch up her wounds. Once done I carry her to the bath room. Where I bathe her, to rid her of the blood covering her (S/C) skin, and (L/H) (F/C) hair. Once she is clean I dry her off.

"Hey Mattie? Could you find an old shirt or something for the little poppet?" I ask Mattie sweetly.

"I told you to not call me that." He grumbles and walks away to go find her something. He comes back with one of Al's old cameo T-shirts. I take it and thank him. I dress her, her breathing is more regular now. I carry her to the couch, I lay her on one end, giving her a blanket, and a pillow. I watch as she snuggles down, and grabs Al's bat. GRABS AL'S BAT! I squeak and try to remove it from her grip. She just mutters in her sleep and grips it tighter.

"Um... Al? I think the Poppet likes your bat." I gulp

"What the hell do you mean? My bats right he-" Al says while reaching for a spot where he thinks he set his bat. He looks at the spot confused when his finger close around air. "It was just right there!" I gesture to the little Poppet. Al goes pale. "Get that away from her! She could hurt someone with that!" Al exclaims. I roll my eyes.

"I would, but she's got a death grip on it."

"What! How the Hell can she be that strong?!"

"I don't know! The only words she's spoken to me were 'Help me'." I yell back.

"Hey guys! You wanna wake her up? She will if we keep yelling." Mattie yells at both of us. We quiet down real quick at that. Al walks over to the girl and tries to remove the bat from her grip. He tries even harder now, the little poppet lets go, and Al falls back into the coffee table. I chuckle at how stupid, and cute Al looks right now.

"Fuck! She is strong." was all Al had to say. I chuckle some more and nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Time Skip to Next Day (10:30 am) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The little poppet sleeps all night, and is still asleep when we wake up. We all are a little worried, but there is no way we are taking her to the hospital. We do our morning routine, only slightly more quietly. We are all looking at the little Poppet, when she wakes up! She yawns, so cutely! And rubs her little eyes, and blinks a couple of times at us. She doesn't scream or anything. Her eyes just go wide and she hops out of bed. She looks scared when she sees what time it is.

"Gomenasai. I-I'm sorry, I didn't wake up early enough to make you breakfast. Please don't hit me!" She stutters, scared out of her mind. We look at her in surprise.

"Poppet, no one's going to hit or hurt you in any way." I tell her softly.

"O-Okay."

"Now, go get something to eat, you must be starving." I smile at her.

"O-Okay." She says and turns into the kitchen. I follow her to make sure she gets something good to eat. She goes to the kitchen and grabs a cheese stick and eats it. There is no way that is all she's having for breakfast.

"Poppet, you sit down and I'll make you breakfast." I tell her.

"B-But, but, this is all I-I n-need, you d-don't need to f-fuss over me." She stutters, scared.

"You just lost a lot of blood you need to have a good breakfast." I argue back.

"I've been taking care of myself since I was three. I know what I need and don't need." She says back, angry, her voice raising slightly. She goes pale, and her eyes go wide. "Gomenasai, Gomenasai, I-I'm S-sorry! Please don't hurt me!" I watch in confusion as she runs out of the kitchen and into Mattie. Uh-oh. Mattie is not a morning person.

"Watch where you're going, you-" He growls.

"Gomenasai, G-Gomenasai, I-I'm S-sorry! Please don't hurt me!" She squeaks and runs away, hiding behind the curtains. The curtains shake violently. Mattie blinks and realizes what he has just done.

"Oh, hey Kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm sorry, I'm not much of a morning person. Come on come out, please?" Mattie asks her, feeling really bad. She peeks out from behind the curtains, not sure if she should trust him. And under normal circumstances I'd say no, you can't trust him, but this is different, if he hurts her, he has me to answer to.

"What your name, Poppet?" I ask, kneeling down in front of the curtain, still giving her room, though. She blinks, surprised that, yes, we actually care.

"_-_, _ _ (L/N) _." _ replies. She's SOOOO CUTE! Her face twists, and she breathes in several times. "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-CHOOO!" She sneezes, her head flies forward and down, her hands covering her face. She shakes and presses herself closer to the corner.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask. She just shakes her head 'no'. I frown and pick her up. She doesn't even struggle, she just stiffens, as if waiting for the blow to fall. I put my hand to her head. It's on fire, okay, not literally, but she has a fever. "Al, get the thermometer, and the medicine. Mattie, heat up a hot pack, and grab another blanket." _ just looks confused, as in 'Why didn't you hit me?' which is pasted all over her face. I can't help but wonder when the last time anyone has shown her kindness, or love.

"Here. She sick?" Al asks, handing me the thermometer and the medicine.

"Well, I'm not sure, but I think so." I lay her on the couch and tuck her in, then I stick the thermometer in her mouth. "Hold this under your tongue, and don't take it out." Mattie comes back from the kitchen with the heating pad and blanket.

"Hey, Artie, She gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I think she's nearly over it so, she should be fine in a day or two." I reply, taking the heating pad and putting it between her and the blanket. Then I tuck the other blanket around her. The thermometer beeps, and I remove it from her mouth. It reads 104.1°F. I frown at this. "Al, get a wet cold cloth, please." He leaves and is back with it in seconds. I fold it and lay it on her head. "Now, _, I'm going to make you some chicken noodle soup, and after you eat, I want you to sleep. Understand?" I ask, okay, really I command her that. She nods. Afraid to set one of us off. Which is good, normally, but we won't hurt her. She's too precious. "Matt, keep an eye on her, keep her entertained. Al, make sure that cloth stays cold, ice cold." I skip off to the kitchen after giving them their orders. I whip up the soup, I carefully go around adding the poison, I usually would, but that would just make her sicker, and I don't want to hurt her. Once the soup is done, I ladle it into a bowl, and carry it out to _. Mattie's trying to talk to her, and it's not really a success.

"Hey, _, here's your soup." I hand it to her as she sits up.

"Itadakimasu!" She says as she slurps it up and smiles. "Gochisosama!"

"Um... you're welcome." I reply, really unsure of what she just said.

"What the hell did she say?!" Al says confused.

"NO PROFANITY! ESPEACIALLY IN FRONT OF THE LITTLE ANGEL!" I yell at Al, smacking him upside the head.

"NYAA! No fighting! Please! Its fine, I'm used to it." _ yells, breaking us up. We blink and look at her.

"What do you mean, you're used to it?" I ask her.

"The man I used to call 'Father', he-" _ chokes, then she looks angry, and her face goes hard, her eyes cold and deadly. "He called me many things after he killed mom, He beat me, and blamed me for her death, when I had nothing to do with it. He called me Bitch, Worthless, Slave, Brat, Shit head, Good for nothing, and many more. All the scars, and fresh wounds I have are from him. Even my cold is from him. He locked me out in the cellar, while it was raining and cold out. He beat me this time, because I sneezed in his presence, because I was sick. I couldn't take it anymore, and I ran. I think you all know the rest." We are all stunned to silence. Al gets angry, Mattie begins prepping his hockey stick with barbed wire. I, well I get that dark, Evil aura around me.

"Who is this man?" Al growls. _ just looks sad.

"I-I don't know. He has me call him Master, Father, And any higher-than-you sounding name. Because he hardly ever calls me by my name, I almost forgot it." She brightens again. "However, I can tell you who he is when I see him."

"That's good enough for me." Mattie replies, nodding.

"Um... I don't really know who you people are." _ says sweetly. We all blink at her again.

"Huh, yeah. Well, I am Arthur Kirkland, but you can call me Artie." I tell her. She smiles.

"Artie you are a good cook. Arigatou."

"I am Alfred F. Jones. But you will call me Al." Al tells her. She nods.

"I am Mathew Williams. Call me Matt." _ nods and giggles.

"I guess you don't like being called 'Mattie'."

"No. I don't. Do not call me Mattie."

"Okay. I think I like Matt better, anyway." _ replies. She yawns, the cutest little yawn you've ever seen, and her eyelids droop.

"I think that _ needs her sleep." I say. I lay her done and tuck her back in as she drifts off to sleep.

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA

THAT ONE DUDE WHOSE NAME IS ESCAPING ME DOES