A/N; Pa-chow! Look at that bi-otches! 4454 words, and that's without the authors' note, and translations. I felt like that you guys deserved it but you have to do me a favor in return. I'm pretty sure that after you spend the time to read my crappy story, you have the time to vote on my crappy poll. S'il vous plait, Mesdames et Messieurs! Vote! Because I have to start pairing people off, and it's getting hard with only 7 unique voters. Thank you, to those 7 people.
Anyways, enjoy your new chapter guys. This is my… Thanksgiving chapter… Also, thank you to all the Romanians who have viewed my story the most, after all my American orange slices.
Pentu toți români, vā multumes pentru timpul acordat in citirea povești.
And now…. Bum-ba-ba-bum-bum-bummm!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Call of Duty 2, or my own pair of shoes.
"-make me your radio. Turn me up, when you feel low. This melody- We're almost there, just four more blocks." Julie shouted from farther up the block that they were on.
The three had decided to walk from Germany's house on Bedford Street to 14 St – Union Square, to where the supposed 'surprise' was. The girl started to walk faster after West 3rd Street out of anticipation and soon enough, happened to be a block away from the other two. Prussia had to bust a gut and run to catch up to her just to ask her to slow down.
So now, she was only about ¼ of a block away from the Italian and the Prussian. Every so often, she would a little spin, point out a foot by the heel and start to strut but she would stop when something caught her eye. Italy ran up to her and Gilbert followed to not get left behind.
"Ve, Julie?" Feli looked down to his left because believe it or not, Julie was almost Japan's height and thus, shorter than Feliciano. She looked to him and raised her brows.
"What?"
"What are you singing?" he questioned. This made her crack a crooked smile and giggle. "Oh it's one of the new songs on the radio; it's been stuck in my head all day. You know, the one? Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes?"
Prussia knew this song by heart. The song itself was basically pop music with rap. He asked her if she wanted to sing it with him to pass the time and although she agreed, Julie insisted that walking across Greenwich Village wasn't going to take them an hour. So they began while Italy listened with wrapped attention.
They started singing together for the opening chorus;
"My heart's a stereo.
It beats for you, so listen close.
Hear my thoughts in every note.
Oh, oh.
Make me your radio,
Turn me up when you feel low.
This melody was meant for you,
Just sing along to my stereo."
At this point they were half way there. Gilbert took the first verse, rapping while throwing a few moves in to lines. The most surprising thing was that his accent had almost, completely disappeared into thin air.
"If I was just another dusty record on the shelf,
would you blow me off and play me like everybody else?"
The German did a little shrug with his shoulders and spun.
"If I asked you to scratch my back could you handle that?
Like yeah, check it Travie. I can handle that.
Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks.
This the last girl that play me left a couple cracks."
When he had to start repeating the lyrics, Prussia began to pop'n'lock for a bit with his shoulders causing a few people to hoot in encouragement.
"I used to- used to- used to- used to-, now I'm over that,
cause holding grudges over love is ancient artifacts.
If I could only find a note to make you understand.
I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hands.
To keep myself inside your head, like your favorite tune,
and know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you."
Julie jumped back into the chorus and decided to dance with Gilbert.
"My heart's a stereo.
It beats for you, so listen close.
Hear my thoughts in every note.
Oh, oh.
Make me your radio,
Turn me up when you feel low.
This melody was meant for you,
Just sing along to my stereo."
"If I wasn't an old-school, fifty pound boom box,
would you hold me on your shoulder wherever you walk?
Would you turn my volume up before of the cops,
and crank it higher every time they told you to stop?
And all I ask-"
The girl suddenly stopped dancing when they came to 14th street, effectively instigating Gilbert and Feliciano's curiosity. She ran down the street, putting the two in a desperate run after her. Then they caught up, they saw she had stopped in front of a brown restaurant clearly labeled, 'Max Brenner – Chocolate by The Bald Man'*.
Gilbert slowly turned his head to stare at Julie with his brows furrowed into a very inquisitive look. "Ein Schokoladen-Laden?"
The brunette shook her head. "I have no idea what you said other than the word 'chocolate'. But I know one thing, if you think that this place is only a chocolate shop, you're sadly mistaken."
"Ve, why Julie?" Italy piped up.
She gave him a smile mixed with happiness and cockiness; "It's a restaurant completely devoted to chocolate."
〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙
The interior design was certainly something. It wasn't the fact that everything had a chocolaty, orange thing going on; it was the sight of big vats of different chocolates being stirred. Apparently, the chocolate was being piped to all corners of the restaurant, seeing as there were brown pipes tracing the celling clearly labeled; Caution – Hot.
Italy originally had decided to display his International Access card, but when Julie had found out it was basically a free-access pass for everything in the world, she sternly told him to put it back in his pocket. Really, her exact words were, 'Excuse my Latin, but hell no. Special treatment would only make this awkward. I'd like for your first time here to be nice, and memorable; not overrated.' – but it doesn't matter.
Italy had never, really done anything 'like a human' as one could put it. Almost all of the people he had ever met knew what he was, and how to treat him accordingly. Prussia had griped a bit, because special treatment was something an ex-nation didn't have, and he wanted; he got over it quickly, thought. It's not like when he went out to Berlin, the people kneelt down and kissed his feet.
They were seated at a quaint table in the center, and everything went relatively quickly. The waitress was helpful beyond words; she did her job with a genuine smile. Feliciano, being the original Italian he was, sneaked a few compliments, winks; even a couple of kisses in between here, and there. This made their server flustered, but enthusiastic, nonetheless.
Italy turned from the young woman to see Julie desperately trying not to laugh with a gaunt hand to her face. The waitress left, leaving the three to their business.
"What'sa so funny, ve?" the Italian questioned, maybe even a little peeved, you could say. She made a weird, little noise that sounded like a mixture of a 'pff' and a snort; "Mon dieu. It's just so funny how you're so Italian."
Prussia gave her a non-impressed look.
"Yah, yah. I know. It's a stupid comment, but seriously. The fact that he's being so Italian makes me want to be Italian."
Both nations a raised an eyebrow in question. "Ve. Really?" Feliciano asked skeptically.
Julie waved her hand around as a gesture to assure her present caretaker. Her eyes had a small light within them as she went off on Italian history, and culture.
"Vraiment! I've been learning European history for a while, and I find that the glory of the Renaissance is undeniable. The art from that period has pushed me to set very high goals for myself."
Gilbert smirked. Pansy artist, he thought. On the other hand, the Italian was completely intrigued be the new topic; "Ve, do you'a know the story of La cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore?"
The girl leaned onto the table, and into the conversation from pure excitement. "Ah, bien sûr! The story goes that Arnolfo di Cambio had designed the Cathedral in 1294, but after his death the work for the building slowed down significantly. They picked up the project after 1334 when the assignment got reappointed to a man named Giotto, but he too, soon died in 1337, and Andrea Pisano took over. The construction was again halted because of the Black Death in 1348.
A year later it was resumed; in forty-one years, the nave was finished and then in 1418 only the dome was incomplete. It became such a problem that they soon held a contest for it, and out of many artists, a master goldsmith by the name of Filippo Brunelleschi won.
The way he won is that when he signed up, the judges wanted to know how he was to do it. Brunelleschi challenged all the other contestants to a task; they had to be able to balance an egg upside-down. All failed, and he soon revealed the answer by jabbing the tip of the egg broken, which thus allowed it to stand inverted. The other artists, clearly upset proclaimed that if they had knew, they too would be able to do it. The only response Brunelleschi gave was; 'Exactly.'"
By this point Italy had leaned in so far, he was kneeling on his chair. Never had he been so enraptured by his history. Only Prussia, and probably France, prized their own past so much.
"Umm, your food is ready…" The two sat back down as the nice waitress placed their food in front of them.
"Thank you." Julie gave a wide smile to the young lady, and received one in return. Prussia and Feliciano immediately began to eat, leaving the other in the dust as she picked at her Asian Chicken & Soba Noodle salad.
Gilbert looked up from his smoked turkey sub, barbeque sauce dripping from his mouth. "Arhen't youh goih to eat zhat?"
She looked up quickly; "Yeah, sorry. I just… spaced out for a minute there." Sipping at her fruit smoothie in an unusual cup labeled 'Drink Me', Julie began to eat seriously, and soon finished the salad.
They finished, and Italy opted for fondue, which pleased the albino as well. The girl rarely touched it, except for setting one of the marshmallows on fire for her own enjoyment, Prussia promptly setting fire to his marshmallows.
All three soon left, paying their respective share. Julie walked past the little store at the front of the restaurant, and she decided that next they came here she would have to buy their famous 'Chocolate in a Syringe'.
"Julie!"
As they walked out of Max Brenner's, Julie could have sworn she heard someone calling her name. She looked around for the source, but found none.
"Hey, did you guys hear something?" She raised a brow.
Feliciano shook his head; "No, perché? Did'a you hear something?"
The girl frowned. "Hmm, I guess I was just hearing things. It happens to everyone sooner or later."
"Julie!"
But there it was again? Maybe some other 'Julie' was being called? It happened a lot in school, and there were only three other Julies. It was very likely that it could happen in public.
"Julie! Dear, turn around!"
She quickly turned around to see England getting closer, the ends of his trench coat flapping erratically. Behind him followed America, Germany, and Japan.
"England! What are you doing here?" She ran towards him, and the two nearly toppled over from her force. The girl hugged him even more tightly when she felt the Brit pet her head. The other three had caught up, but before she even got to say hello to anyone else, something when a bit wrong.
"England, youh canh't keep her! Ve'e have to discussh zhe sihtuation vith zhe ozher nahtions!"
England? Keeping her?
"No!," Arthur shouted, "She came to this dimension in my house, so she's under my jurisdiction!" He held on to her, tenser than before. It was starting to hurt her ribs.
America coughed behind Japan. "Technicality, I brought her here." What?
Prussia walked past Italy, who now looked worried about the situation, and sneered at Arthur; "Youh just vhant her 'cause you're finally fehd up vith jackhing off by youhrself, and youh khnow no prohstitute vhould vhant t be vith youh, eyehbrows, kesese!"
Oh! That's just uncalled for! She gave a disgusted look to the albino. "Okay, first, eww. I don't need to know about what every the hell you guys do at night. Two; that's mean! I'm not a slut!" She pressed her lips into a thin line to make her point.
It all happened to fast. England let go of her, and had gone for the Prussian ex-nation in a fit of furry. Violence isn't an answer, so she tried to stop the Brit. After that all she could feel was a horrible pain in her chest, and the taste of iron on her lips.
"–ulie. Julie. Oh… -od, dear!"
"Ve… Why…you….to her?"
"Cahll an….She's fadhi…."
She couldn't make out the people crowding her, or the sound of sirens. The pain engulfed all feeling, and soon enough, everything turned black.
[SWITD]
The Brit paced back and forth continuously in the hotel room he had rented two nights ago. Germany had called for an ambulance immediately, and America had ordered the best care for the girl. He wasn't allowed to ride to the hospital with the girl. Instead, the police – and the other nations – had filed a restraining order; now he wasn't allowed within 3 feet of her, lest he be detained, country or not.
The wait, and its accompanying guilt, was unnerving. The doctor said she might be in a short-term coma, but still. The possibly that he had killed Julie slowly crept into his mind. Ha, ha, ha… she's not dead. No. I'm not strong enough. No… He started to pace at a faster rate, and it was being to annoy the other three nations in the room.
"Angleterre! Stop it! You're beginning to make me worried!" the French country frowned angrily.
America looked up from his Twix Ice-Cream Bar, which he had been eating because of what had been eating at him. "Seriously Arthur, it's making us all nervous."
Canada tugged on the sleeve of his brother, "Hey… Alfred. Who's this girl that England injured?"
The other looked over to his sibling, completely out of it. "Oh, hey, dude! Canadia! When'd you get here?"
Alfred gave his northern neighbor a smack on the back for some good measure, thinking nothing of his strength. The other face-planted into the king-size bed they were currently sitting on, due to the sheer force of his brothers' arm. He slowly got back up; there was a stinging pain in his back. Matthew sighed in defeat. Thank goodness he left Kumakiki at home; he didn't need another person, or bear, forgetting him. "I've been here the whole time, America."
The fore-mentioned one raised a brow, surprised. "Oh." He turned back around to give England an idea of his; the Canuck gave the other a half-assed look. He tapped his brothers' shoulder once again; "America… Who's the girl?"
Alfred didn't answer as he focused on the ice-cream bar, eyebrows knitted close together in concentration; he only waved a hand as if to say 'Yeah, yeah…'. Matthew's hands balled up into fists; he was ready to yell at the American, "Alfred, you hoser! I asked you-"
The phone rang, leaving a flustered British man to get it in desperation. He groaned as a run in the carpet made him fall, and Francis beat him to it; "Oui?"
There was moment of silence. France's lips pressed into a tight line. This was going to be problematic.
"Merci. Oui, we'll be right z'ere." He turned to the others including England, who was now silently griping.
"On y va. She 'az just woke up."
[TO2DSL]
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The whirr that drew her from a never-ending trance was the only sound filling the whole room; and it was horrifying. Her eyes opened ever so slowly, and for a moment, her mind felt as if it was floating – as though she couldn't pull herself from the dream completely.
The room itself scared her even more. All the walls were nothing but white, a pure, artificial white. A dreadful color to stare at, if there were no other colors to control it. The sheets were just as barren, only itchier. And as she slowly moved her head, Julie finally came to. She grimaced at the sight of a little, clear tube that disappeared into her left arm. The girl was never one for needles or tubes.
She tried to lift herself from the extremely horizontal bed, but a shocking flash of pain in her torso halted the action. Pushing back the ugly sheets, she pulled down the inhumane hospital gown to find black bruises littering her chest. The sight was unusual, if anything.
There was a little click on the other side of the room; Julie turned to see a blond nurse walk in. Her hair was short, and curled – a hairstyle that she herself couldn't seem to get down. Julie gave her a weak wave.
"Oh! Are you awake, dear? My, you've been out for two days already!" The lady started to fix her sheets, "I'll go tell the doctor that you're awake." She patted the girl's tangled hair, and left the room.
She relaxed, and took a shaky breath. Her eyes slowly closed; Julie began to relax. It must have been a while before the familiar sound of the door click open came back.
"Oh, my. She was awake when I left her." That must have been the nice lady-nurse from earlier.
"Let me wake her." A British voice?
There was some scuffling, and a few protests of 'no' in the room. A pregnant silence settled over the room before she heard a pair of shoes come towards the bed.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. They stopped, and a small amount of weight sat down on the wide hospital bed. A soft, calloused hand stroked her cheek. Julie leaned into the touch. It was just so… so… comforting; it was weird, too. Comforting, huh, she though. The feeling was strange, almost distant.
"Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet."
…..France?
Her eyes opened a bit more quickly this time. The Frenchman's hair was hanging down around his face as he looked over her, "Bonjour."
"Bon….jour."
〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙
England gritted his teeth as America and Scotland held him back. Why does froggy-face get to touc- wake her! He, and several other nations watched as France slowly sat down on the whiter-than-white sheets of the hospital bed. He stroked her cheek, causing everyone else to become a bit nervous.
"Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet."
As she sluggishly opened her eyes, England let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. Francis smiled; "Bonjour."
Julie returned the gesture. "Bon….jour."
Alfred gave a sympathetic look to his citizen and combed out her hair; "How'ya doin' kiddo?"
She drew in a raspy wheeze as the other nations began to come near her. Prussia stood next to the opposite side of the bed. "Kesese! Zhank goodness youh're noht dead!"
"Bruder!" Germany pushed his brother out of the way. "I'm sohrry fohr mein bruder, Fräulein Julie."
She giggled as much as she could without stressing her chest too much; "It's… okay. Really."
Ireland and Wales leaned over the side of the bed as well. "Is dis 'ere? Roi young she is." The Irishman whispered to his Welsh counterpart. The other nodded in agreement. A few other nations crowed around the bed, looking at the girl, just as she was looking at them.
"Ye burst** a thes yoong lassie Arthur? Ah thought ye waur a chiel***!" Scotland erupted with laughter. Arthur scowled at his older brother from across the room.
Italy looked over France's shoulder, his face contorted in worry. "Ve…. How are you'a feeling, Julie?"
She gave him a kind look in return; "I've felt better. Can't say I've felt worse; I've never broken a bone."
"Ve…. Really?"
Julie shrugged a little. "Yah, but as a child I used to get horrible gashes and cuts. I've had three or four skin graphs for my knees. And I still have the scars to prove it."
The door clicked open, and everyone's attention landed on the nurse from before. The lady gave a wide smile, "Welcome back, again, sweetheart. Are you feeling a little better, dear?"
The young woman shooed the countries from the bedside. "Stop crowing this poor child!" Julie winced as the nurse lifted her arm, and quickly looked away at the sight of the I.V. in her arm. "You alright honey?"
"Yah…" she kept her head turned, "I… just don't like needles. That's all."
She tried to relax as the woman opened the I.V. and administered 10.9 milligrams of morphine. She tried to keep her mind off the fact that she just might get addicted to the painkiller. The nurse gave her a pat on the head in comfort and fixed her sheets, once again. "I'll be back in a few hours to re-fill your I.V., sugar." The young lady left the room, pushing a little cart with her.
The nations began to crowd the edges of the bed as soon as the woman left, and France took his seat on the girl's right side. His long, blond hair fell from their place behind his ear, despite his attempts to push it back. Noticing this, she spoke up.
"France?" Julie asked quietly, "Avez-vous un ruban ou un bout de ficelle?"
Francis look confused but pulled out a blue silk ribbon. She gestured to his hair; taking the hint, he tied his hair back. She smiled a little; "C'est mieux."
He looked just like her French cousins; it was extremely nostalgic. Should I be feeling nostalgia? I think I'm a bit to young for that. She thought in the back of her mind.
"Sae, ye flung intae a nedry dyke**** by Artie?"
A voice brought her out of her thoughts. Scotland, who had been pushed to the back of the room by the nurse, was now standing next to the I.V., smoking a cigarette. He ran his fingers through his red hair and looked to her.
"Mm-hm." Julie nodded her head bit, "How did all you guys find out?"
Germany coughed a bit, then folding his arms as though in thought. "Vhell, youh vill be released frohm zhe hospitahl in fihve and a halhf vheeks. Afhter zhat, we will whork out a scheduhle so zhat each countrie vhill have equal custody ofh youh. So, I had to tehll zhe ozhers."
Her eyes widened; "Wow. You know, I've always dreamed of visiting every country, but it always just a dream."
America smiled and slapped his chest strongly. "She'll stay with the hero first! And then we can kick commie-butt in Call of Duty 2!"
Julie laughed lightly in agreement, then looked at Japan who had settled on stay sat in a chair near Arthur. "Japan, if I go to your home anytime soon, you owe me a trip to Osaka, and some takoyaki^."
Kiku smiled ever so slightly and nodded; "はい。"
Italy clapped his hands together, got up, and danced around the bed a little. "E io vi mostrerò nei dintorni di Firenze!"
The door clicked again, opening to Spain, who came in with South Italy running in after him, before Russia and his sister Ukraine walked in. The room went quiet as Ivan came to the bedside near the Frenchman, whom was now scooting away.
"Здравствуй пропустить. Я уверен, что вы помните меня." He said with a smile. She looked at him speechless;
"What?"
His smiled got wider, causing Ekaterina to tear up. "You remember me, da?"
Julie nodded her head. "Of course I remember you. How can I not?"
The others looked at her with fear. Why would she say that! England thought in horror. Russia flexed his fingers within his black, leather gloves. Japan looked away, Italy hid behind Germany next to Prussia, Scotland turned his cheek, while his brothers pretended to look out the window; they waited in anticipation for what might've come next.
Russia stared at the child. She was in a hospital bed, completely worn-out; the bags under her eyes were a testament of that. He didn't come all the way from his house in St. Petersburg to be sassed by a human child.
"I love Russians; my best friend is Russian."
There were a couple of gasps throughout the room. Ivan looked at her, his eyes widening a bit. In the years that had passed after the Second World War, including the Cold War, he had never heard another country – other nationalities – say that they liked Russians. Or that they liked Russia.
He lent down near her face, causing her to back away as much as she could, and did something. The next thing she felt was a pair of cold lips on her cheek. They felt like ice, and sent shivers down her spine. Going away as fast as they came, he whispered; "Я надеюсь, что вы посещаете в ближайшее время."
He stood back up, and whispered something to his sister. She nodded, and then they left the room as Julie gawked. Ludwig clasped his hands together.
"Vhell, v'he ahll have vhork to dho, so, Wales shall look after her in zhe mornings und Süd-Italien vhill have zhe night shift on day v'ones, Frankreich und Schottland shall be day twos."
Romano scowled; "Cosa! Certo che no, strono!"
The German glared at the other. Spain stood in front of his Italian in an attempt to protect him, but Ludwig had already looked away. Wales sat on the bed as the others filed out of the room.
"Wait! France!" she grabbed onto the edge of the hem of the French's shirt. He turned to her as she pulled him down to her face. She kissed either side of his face as he returned the gesture.
"À plus tard, France."
He smiled softly; "S'il vous plait ma petite, François, François Bonnefoi."
"Je sais." She giggled.
Feliciano kissed both of her cheeks as well; "Ciao bella."
"Ciao Signore Italia."
His face lit up, and skipped out the door in pure elation. Spain gave her kisses, so did South Italy, reluctantly. Japan bowed, Germany gave a small smile, Scotland ruffled her hair – which made her slap his hands away – and Ireland did the same.
Finally Wales said his quiet goodbye, letting her know that he'd be back soon. Julie closed her eyes, sighing. It had only been about 35 minutes, and she was already tired. Or is it the morphine?
That is, when she felt, yet again another weight sat on the bed. Her eyes shot open to be met with a blond man with violet eyes.
"….Canada? Pourquoi vous êtes là?"
Translations
[Ein Schokoladen-Laden?] A chocolate shop?
[Vraiment!] Really!
[La cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore?] The Cathedral of Saint Maria of Fiore?
[Ah, bien sûr!] Ah, sure!
[…perché?] …why?
[Angleterre,] England,
[On y va.] Let's go.
[Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet.] Sweetheart. Wake up, please. Everybody is worried.
[Bruder!] Brother!
[Fräulein…] Miss…
[Avez-vous un ruban ou un bout de ficelle?] Do you have a ribbon or a piece of string.
[C'est mieux.] Better.
[はい。] Yes.
[E io vi mostrerò nei dintorni di Firenze!] And I'll show you around Florence!
[Здравствуй пропустить. Я уверен, что вы помните меня.] Hello miss. I'm sure you remember me.
[Я надеюсь, что вы посещаете в ближайшее время.] I hope you visit soon.
[…und Süd-Italien,] …and South Italy,
[Frankreich und Schottland,] France and Scottland,
[Cosa! Certo che no, strono!] What! Hell no, asshole!
[À plus tard, France.] See you later, France.
[S'il vous plait ma petite, François, François Bonnefoi.] Please my little one, Francis, Francis Bonnefoy.
[Je sais.] I know.
[Ciao bella.] Later beautiful.
[Ciao Signore Italia.] Later Mr. Italy.
[….Canada? Pourquoi vous êtes là?] ….Canada? Why are you there ?
* Max Brenner – Chocolate by The Bald Man: A very good, chocolate-based restaurant. Look it up. You'll find it.
Scottish slang;
** burst: to hit someone.
*** chiel: a gentleman.
**** nerdy dyke: a brick wall or any wall really.
^ takoyaki: octopus dough balls.
Thank you for reading my ongoing mumbo-jumbo. The 100th reviewer can ask for any type of fanfic of their choosing. And Happy Birthday to me. I'm one hundred and three! Well, next week. December 3. So, I'll be releasing a short birthday chapter for you boys and squirrels.
Is it just me, or is my fanfic becoming very musical?