I woke to a warm hand stroking my head. Startling abruptly, I jumped up from were I lay. A familiar man with long blonde hair sat on the edge of the couch, gazing casually down at me. "Francis!~" I sang, adopting a brief Italian accent and tackling my brother with a strong embrace. He laughed, his thick French accent tainting the heartily below. "Hello, little sister. I'm sorry I woke you, but you just looked so innocent and pretty in your sleep." He grinned. I smacked the back of his head gently, "Pervert..." I muttered, rolling onto my back. He laughed, then reached down to rub my head. I groaned, relaxing my head into his palm. "So, how have you faired lately, beauté?" He asked, throwing in my favorite nickname. I closed my eyes, still entranced be his fingers on my scalp. "Very well, grand frère. I have faired quite well." He smiled, then gaped suddenly. Francis grabbed my wrists in one hand, holding hen down while the other yanked my head to the cushion of the sofa. "Holly Mariee Bonnefoy! Why the Hell is there a hand-shaped bruise on your neck?!" He growled. I gasped in pain as he pressed his fingers roughly into my wound. The pain was immense, and I cried out as tear pooled in my eyes. He withdrew his fingers, his expression softened. "Who gave you that bruise?" He asked sternly, his eyes boring into me. I swallowed, should I tell the truth? Risk Ludwig's safety? I couldn't, I knew I had to protect him. "I had an accident at the market. A man grabbed me while trying to escape the police." I avoided his eyes, settling my gaze on the far wall. He was quiet for a moment, "And nothing else happened?" I shook my head, still averting his gaze. Francis sighed, releasing me and standing to his feet. "I guess it's time." He caught my eye, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet. "Go to your room, and pack all you clothes, makeup, and anything else you can't live without." He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I stood frozen, utterly confused to be honest. What was Francis going to do with me?

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Hours later, Francis pulled the car infringe of a large office building. He shifted into park, then motioned for me to exit the vehicle. I obeyed, grabbing one if my bags before he snatched the rest from me. He towed me into the building, marching me into an elevator. We rode up to a floor near the top, then exited, walking down a long hallway. Silence stained the air, and the cold chill of a forgot thermostat caused me to shiver. Francis stopped, suddenly, opening a wooden door in the right side of the hall. He immediately entered, but shut the door before I could. I huffed, guessing that was the sign meaning I couldn't enter. A large commotion sounded beyond the door, lots of yelling, and a slightly familiar, high-pitched hum. I'm sure, behind the door, it was much more than a hum. I sighed, leaning my back against the wall. After a good thirty minutes, the door swung open, "Beauté! Come here for your grand frère!~!" My brother practically sang. I lugged the small bag I had into the room, glancing around the room. Inside was a very long, wooden table. Seated along it were men, and a few women. Each seemed to be of different ethnicity, Spanish, Polish, Eniglish, American, even Russian. Then, a small group caught my eye, and a familiar voice rang loudly, "Bella!~" There sat Feliciano, Kiku, and, to my horror, Ludwig. My heart jerked, and I quickly averted his burning crystal eyes. Francis gave me an odd look, "Holly, do you know Italy?" I shrugged, "Barely. He was the one who helped me when the man grabbed me at the market." I dramatic fluttered my lashes, and touched my bruise. Francis seemed to believe me, though Felici gave me a questioning look. My brother turned his direction, clearing his throat, "Anyway, sister, I have asked that the Allies have graciously agreed to train you to fight." My mouth fell, but he cut me off before I could protest, "It's for your own good, Holly! After that bruise, I'm worried your going get into something you may regret!" Francis never raised his voice at me, sure, he threatened, but never yelled. I wanted to crawl in a hole, and his face flipped to a stern glare. "It's for your own good, Holly. I can't loose you, even if it means turning you over to someone I have 'history' with." He glanced at Ludwig. I nodded, finding it best to agree with him. Then, Francis proclaimed that the meeting could start. I walked to the far wall, and sank to the ground, hugging my knees. I quickly learned that each person, including Ludwig, Felici, and Kiku, represented a country. It explained the different ethnicities and languages. Big brother represented the country of France, and kept referring to me as Paris. By the end of the meeting, I understood more about the 'countries' than I would have liked. For example, they really didn't age. They had been around hundreds, some even thousands of years, even Francis. That confused me though, seeing as I wasn't much younger than him, and I was only 19. I made up my mind to ask him about it later. Before I knew it, the meeting was over. The countries packed their things, idly chatting on their way out. As I braced to rise, a hand appeared in front of me. I glanced up, meeting the ocean eyes of a dirty-blonde American. Smiling, I took his hand. He pulled me to my feet, "Man, you pretty light!" He grinned. I laughed, thanked him, and gave a small, formal bow. He laughed, "You know, who knew all these years, that jerk, France, was hiding you from us!" He mumbled something after, but I couldn't make it out. I chuckled weakly, rendering a small smile. "Yeah, and who would have guessed he was the represented France." My eye slithered to the floor, "Or that he would hide all this from me..." I mumbled softly. A large hand smacked into my shoulder, snapping my attention up. America gave me a wide, toothy grin. "Hey! Buck up, okay babe? Like I said, France can be a jerk!" His enthusiasm brought a real smile to my lips. "That's it, sweets! I knew there was a smile hidden in there!" I giggled. He began to ask questions about me. My name, my age, how I was related to 'France'. I answered his questions as we strolled out of the room. He was funny, nice, and attractive. But his over-confidence seemed to take over a nicer personality.

Ludwig and the other were waiting for me as I finished my conversation with America. I joined them, waving goodbye to my new friend as we left. The four of us piled in the car, I sat as far from Ludwig as possible. I was still angry with him for leaving me so easily. I knew it was going to be a very long ride back to his home.