DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are the sole property of Hidekaz Himaruya. Any resemblance to any actual events, locales, organizations, or person, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Any other character not made by Hidekaz Himaruya are of the sole property if Jenkeo. Same disclaimer are applied to these characters as they are to Hidekaz Himaruya.

A/N: Well, it's finally my break so yea for me~! Another chapter of Hans is up and things are about to hit the roof.

Also, as a side job, I'm doing commissions for anyone who wants a story or pictures. Check out my page on DA. The web address is in my profile if you want samples.

Anyway, time to enjoy the story~!

CHAPTER 10

It was an awkward silence between the two. Normally, the little boy would have resorted to some measure of violence to get away from him but here he is, sitting in place covered in flour. What happened for such a scene to take place? Well, he'll tell you.

After the incident a few day ago involving a crazed British and naïve American, they came home from a day of shopping. Hands full of food and other necessities were brought into the house. It took about maybe an hour to pick up and put everything away. By then, both were hungry. Ludwig of course wanted wurst but was ready for an explosive argument. He remembered how Feliciano dislike the taste of German sausage so he expected his son to dislike it as well. Imagine his surprise when Hans himself asked to have wurst. Nodding his head, he only looked on as the little boy glee and went about gathering ingredients for the meal.

Now, normally he would have helped and took charge immediately but something stopped him.

That smile. It wasn't a "Pasta~" kind of smile that he was used to seeing on Feliciano but a shy smile that spoke of gratitude and respect. In a way, Hans looked...well, like him. Watching the boy go around the kitchen, preparing to make their dinner, Ludwig couldn't help but notice how not Italian Hans was. Sure the looks were there but other than that, he didn't seem like an authentic pasta looking, drunk driving Italian. It was then that his conversation with Alfred came up.

That's not his son. Said Alfred. Personally, he wasn't sure who to believe. A man who betrayed the only person he knew to be family or a boy who may not be who he say he is.

If he took Alfred for his word...well then, if Hans wasn't Lovino's, who is he's? He claimed to be part of the Vargas family and that consisted of only Lovino, Romulus and Feli-.

Ludwig dropped the pan he had somehow manage to retrieve in his hand, startling both himself and the boy next to him. He didn't register the annoyed voice by him. Nothing seem to penetrate Ludwig until the very pan that fell met the back of his head. Groaning in pain as he clutched his bruise, he eyed the pan wielding boy warily. "Christ you German are clumsy." Huffed Hans.

Angry amber eyes stared at him rebelliously as he glared at the German. If Han eyes were blue and his hair slick back, he would look just...like...

Cold reality slapped him as hard as the pan did. Why didn't he see this before? The resemblance were uncanny. "If you're not going to help, then get out. You'll just make a mess in the kitchen anyway."

Ludwig wanted to protest but he was silenced by a tiny hand waving him off. "Go. I know where everything is. I'll not make a mess."

Finding no retort, Ludwig numbly nodded and walked off into the living room.

Usually, he wouldn't do this but just for today he deemed it necessary. He actually slouched onto the couch. Head back, he stared at the ceiling, thinking about the new discovery he just found out. Now that he thought about it, it made so much sense. By he added different from a normal Italian yet maintain his heritage. Truly, the boy was special. He had to be if he was Romulus and Gerhart's son.

Flinching while groaning simultaneously, Ludwig tried to vanquish the image he conjured up. He really didn't need to know about his granddad's private life. In fact, could the men even have anymore children at their age? Shuddering at the thought, he willed himself to forget the topic.

It didn't matter. Hans was still family, despite being his...uncle but he could learn to respect a being that wasn't even a third his age...couldn't he?

Running a hand down his sweat soaked face, he could feel the migraine that was coming on. Every since Hans came, he would get headaches so frequently, he was beginning to doubt it would ever go away.

No sooner did that thought disappear from his mind did a loud crashing sound come from the kitchen. Quicker than his mind could comprehend, he was in the kitchen, eyes wandering to anything out of place.

His eyes landed on Hans, who sat on the floor, covered in flour as a broken jar lay beside him. Looking above him, he saw the open cabinet and back down, to see a chair and two small boxes.

So Hans tried to reach for the flour using a chair and boxes but it seems he tripped. Kneeling down to the flour covered child, he began to inspect him for injuries. "Are you alright? Did it hurt?"

Pouting, Hans turned his face, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. "I fell from the counter top and landed on my butt. Of course it hurts dumb butt."

Ignoring the remark, Ludwig set about helping Hans up when he Hans hand moving towards the broken jar. Before he could prevent the boy from placing his hand down, Hans yelped, quickly pulling his hand away from the site of the crime and held his now bleeding hand to his chest. "Hans!"

"I'm fine dumbass! It's-it's just a s-scratch!" Trying and failing miserably, Hans choked on a sob. A manly sob.

Something within snapped at the sight of the injured boy in front of him. Catching the child unaware, he lifted Hans into his arms and ran straight to the bathroom where the first aid kit resided. Sitting him on top of the sink, he dug into the sink's cabinet, pulling out the medical box. Quickly pulling out the tweezers, he started pulling out whatever pieces of glass that may have gotten stuck in his little hand. At first, he protested but when Ludwig pulled out the first shard, Hans quiet down, allowing the older German to treat his wounds.

Sometime later, with Hans' hand fixed and bandaged, Ludwig sat the boy in the living room while he went to clean up the mess and fix their dinner. For Hans, it was a humiliating experience. Relying on the man he hated most to tend to his wounds? He could just kill himself but when he looked at his hand, a blush arose in his cheeks.

His mother wasn't very good at treating injuries though he receives a lot so it was Hans who became the medical expert but having someone treat him for a change was nice. He always wanted a father to care for him like how his mother did but circumstance demand that it's not to be. Still, he could feel the warmth of the blonde German. Realizing where his thoughts were headed he quickly shook it out.

NO! He didn't like the man. He's just here to make his mother happy!

...But wouldn't it be nice if he was happy too? To have a father love him? And perhaps one day, a sibling?

Shaking his head again, he sighed. He spent all this time hating the man without realizing he had somehow grown attached. Looking into the kitchen, he saw his father mixing the meat for the wurst.

Despite himself, he couldn't stop the chuckle that came out. He really was like his father. Both stubborn and had a love for wurst.

Maybe...just maybe, he'll give his father a chance.

Smirking, his thoughts turned a bit sinister. 'Maybe I will give him a chance...that is, if he lives through uncle Nor's assassination plot.'

Yes. Hans will give him a chance. After all, anyone who can survive the onslaught of the Norwegian and his band of mass murders deserved to live. Just perhaps...his father was worthy of his mother's love after all...and maybe his own as well.

A/N: Oh my~ What's this? Is Hans' starting to like his papa? And Ludwig, how on Earth did you come up with that conclusion?! You Germans are so clueless! Next, meet the uncles from the Welsh.