Brawd Cariad

[Dylan Kirkland]

Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia or Scotland. If you have a topic you want me to write about send it to through a pm.

[Dylan Kirkland]

Chapter 1: Goodnight

Disclaimer: I own the oc Wales. Oc Scotland belongs to Nightmare owl.

A small boy with burnt red hair tossed fitfully in his bed. Lately he had been suffering horrible nightmares that his young mind couldn't understand. Light seeped into his room as a tall shadow fell across the boy.

“Dylan! yi''ll need tae wake up. Ye'r in a nightmare again.” The older boy shook the little boy, Dylan, to wake him. Dylan continued to sleep, tossing and turning. The older boy sighed, usually just hearing his older brother's voice would wake up but the nightmares were getting stronger. Maybe if he threatened him, he would wake up?

“Dylan wake up or ah wull throw ye intae th' loch!” Nope, the little boy was still asleep. The older boy hated feeling useless and weak; and these nightmares definitely made him feel that way. He also hated seeing his precious little brother so scared. The older boy who we shall call Hammish sighed and ran a hand through his flame red hair. He promised their mother Britannia that he would look after his younger siblings but he didn't know what to do. And th' roman bas was making his way north.

“Hauld yer horses a minute cuid that be it?” Hammish whispered. Dylan represented the west tribes to the South while Arthur represented the East/Southern tribes. Could that be it? Could Dylan, as young as he was, be sensing his people's fears? If that was true, th' besom Arthur should be having nightmares as well. His harsh green eyes traveled to the next cot next Dylan's where a blonde boy was sleeping soundly. The desire to kick him out of his cot spread throughout the older redhead's body but he pushed it down. Hammish didn't really care for th' wee jimmy as he was a spoiled 'n' loud besom. He was drawn out of his thoughts as he noticed pale green eyes were staring at him.

“Whin did ye wake up?” It unnerved Hammish with just how quiet the lad could be. Dylan's eyes drifted upward as he thought.

“Mae ychydig (A few) minutes ago,” Dylan quietly replied as if he hadn't just been tormented by his own mind. “'n' ye coudnae huv said something?” Hammish really couldn't understand how his wee brother thought. “Roeddech chi'n meddwl mewn gwirionedd am unwaith (You were actually thinking for once). I didn't want to ruin it.” That's right, the boy was also a brat, he was just more crafty than the other one. Hammish growled in annoyance and got up to leave.

“Maent yn ofnus (They're scared). I don't want them to be scared anymore,” Dylan muttered into his cot. Harsh green eyes softened at the curled up figure. Hammish sat back down on the cot and gathered the small boy into his arms.

“Dinna fash yirsel. Ye kin aye count oan me. Noo gang back tae kip. Ah will keep th' nightmares awa',” Hammish said as he laid Dylan back into his bed and brought the blanket up to his chin.

“Nos da.” Pale green eyes drifted closed as Dylan drifted peacefully into the dreamworld.

“Goodnight.”

[jamesdumont]

D'awwwww don't be scared Wales~~~ This is well written and I would really like to read more~~

[Hamish Kirkland]

I love this story still. You need to put up the second chapter!

[Dylan Kirkland]

A/N: This is set in an alternate universe where the nations are just people. One more thing send me one worded topics for few chapters.

Disclaimer: Again I own Dylan and Hamish belongs to Nightmare Owl and everyone else belongs to Himaruya unless I say so.

Warnings: Sibling abuse and Hamish's potty mouth

Cariad 2: Sorry

Dylan Adda Kirkland gently rubbed his bruised shoulder, courtesy of his younger brother Arthur. It wouldn't have been the first time his little brother hurt him and probably wouldn't be the last. However, it was better that Dylan be hurt instead of the twins. No one but Arthur and Dylan knew of Arthur's abuse, not their mother, the twins nor their significant others. For the last five years thing had gotten worse, it started when Hamish, Dylan's older half brother, went back to Scotland to live with his father. Actually the twins, Arthur and Dylan all had different fathers as well.

“Hey Taffy!” Dylan froze there was only one person who would call him that, and the culprit was the same person responsible for his sore shoulder. Dylan's father was Welsh and he was proud of it. Determined to ignore his younger brother he kept moving towards his school.

“Gah!” Pain flared in Dylan's head as he grabbed the back of it. He pulled his hands back to his face to see them stained with blood. Down at his feet, there was a suspicious red rock, not a pebble, a good-sized rock. Was his brother trying to kill him now? If that rock had hit him any harder or struck the wrong place, he could have ended up with a concussion or worse ended up dead.

“Don't ignore me, you bloody taffy!” Arthur reached down to throw another rock at the redhead knowing he wouldn't defend himself. Dylan closed his eyes and braced for the pain. “Let go of me you jock!” Pale green eyes flew open at the sound of Arthur grunting in pain only to lock eyes with harsh green eyes.

“Hamish.” There was no mistaking that flame red hair and harsh green eyes. The cigarette was new but Dylan knew without a doubt this was his older brother Hamish.

“Whit th' hell is gaun oan 'ere?” Hamish yelled at the two, one of them stunned quiet, the other struggling to free his arm.

“Ingenting (Nothing).” Dylan turned back toward his school. “Dylan, stop. Ye cannae gang tae schuil lik' that. Yer neck is hoaching with blood.” Hamish was definitely worried about his little brother. Dylan was always quiet, especially for a Kirkland but now he seemed to be even more withdrawn and Hamish would bet his favorite lighter that it had something to do with the blonde struggling in his grip.

“Ye gang tae schuil 'n' ye come wi' me. We need tae treat that wound.” Arthur looked ready to argue but a green eyed glared sent him running towards the school. Ten minutes later they were back at the Kirkland Estate with Hamish ordering a maid to go get the first aid kit and a wetrag. Hamish lead Dylan to a stool and forced him to sit.

“Lose th' sark.” Dylan gave him a look that showed a little irritation and worry. Worry for what Hamish didn't know and he didn't care, all that mattered was stopping the blood coming from Dylan's head.
“Brawd mawr (big brother) has become a pervert while he was away.”

“Haud yer wheesht 'n' tak' aff yer sark sae it doesn't git drookit.” Hamish was two seconds away from smacking Dylan upside the head. The only thing stopping him was someone already beat him to it. Dylan shrugged slipping out of his blazer and pulling off his stained dress shirt. Harsh green eyes widened in shock as an furious scowl grew on his face. His little brother was covered in bruises and scars, the newest bruise seemed to be on his shoulder.

“Did Arthur dae that tae ye?” Dylan spared him a quick glance before letting his blazer and dress shirt drop unceremoniously to the floor.

“Most of them, mae rhai ohonynt yn (some of them) are from his friends.” Dylan souned off, he talked as if the bruises were on someone else.

“Whin did this stairt happening? 'n' how come hasn't a' body stopped it?” Okay so Hamish was more then a little pissed right now.

“Nobody knew and nobody would believe me even if I told them or showed them. Arthur is the golden boy,” That figured; their mother was a kind woman but she had spoiled Arthur horribly given that he was the youngest, “it started about five years ago.”

The maid had returned with the items Hamish had requested. It made sense, though, Hamish was the only person Arthur was afraid of. So with him gone, Arthur had been given free reign over the house, including his siblings.

“A'm sorry fur leaving ye alone wi' him.” Hamish for once muttered quietly.

“Mae gennych unrhyw beth i fod yn flin am.” Dylan hissed as the wetrag touched his injured head. Hamish made a silent vow as he treated his little brother that Arthur would not get away with this. No one messed with his little brother, especially not his spoiled rotten littlest brother.

[Dylan Kirkland]

Disclaimer: Still don't own hetalia or Scotland.

Warnings: Hamish

Chapter 3: Death

The sky was entirely to bright Hamish thought as he glared at the clear blue sky. Rain would fit the mood much better. Today was the day of his mother's funeral. He was only seven years old and he had four younger siblings to take care of. He was just a kid himself. He was busy glaring at the ground when he felt an insistent tugging at his hand.

"Brawd mawr, are you okay? You look like you are about to cry." He did want to cry but he was head of the family now. He couldn't be weak in front of his siblings.

"A'm braw, Dylan. Save yer worry for yerself." He flinched when he realized how cutting his words were. He was probably taking his stress and fear out on Dylan, but the little boy was back to ignoring him. Only Hamish and Dylan were at the funeral, the others being to young to come. Th' twins 'n' Arthur had not stopped crying wanting their mother, but then again the three of them were toddlers and didn't understand what was going on. Now that he thought about Dylan hadn't cried at all not even when they found their mother dead.

"Dylan urr ye okay?" The little boy glanced at him before pursing his lips in his "I'm thinking" face.

"Rwy'n iawn. If I cried, Mam would be sad. Besides, " Dylan got that sneaky little look on his face that always made Hamish worry about what he was up to, "if I cried, brawd mawr would start crying too. And then where would we be?"

Hamish loved his little brother, really he did. But there were times he did want to punch him. The scot's eyes drifted back to where his mother laid and saw they were getting ready to start the pyre. He shouldn't be feeling this way, they already had their time of mourning plus many games and feast were held for his mother so why wasn't he ready to let go? The pyre was ablaze before he knew it. He felt Dylan's hand tighten around his. He was turned to yell at the little boy that he didn't need comfort and was fine, but froze. Dylan hadn't tightened his hand to comfort Hamish, he had tightened because he wanted comfort. The proof was in the tears falling down his cheeks.

Hamish's mind flashed back to the past week, each time Dylan tried to talk to him one of the toddlers would start to cry and Hamish would have to take care of them before turning to Dylan, only to get a "Mae'n ddim,” in answer. He sometimes forgot Dylan was only five, given how he acted, but of course he too would need comfort. He hugged his little brother close, stroking the burnt red hair as the little boy sobbed into his chest.

“Neist time, tell me whin yer sad. Even if yin o' th' toddlers ur greetin', ah will tak' care o' ye foremaist, especially if tis Arthur greetin'.”

Dylan nodded before hiccuping. Hamish resolved himself to be more watchful of Dylan so that this wouldn't happen again. Beside the only reason he was taking care of Arthur was because he looked like their mother, if he hadn't he would have already given him to the Roman bastard. So if Arthur had to cry for a while as Hamish made sure to take care of Dylan, then Arthur could, it wouldn't kill him.

[Hamish Kirkland]

YAY you finished this chapter for me! It was good and the right amount of sad.

[Dylan Kirkland]

Thanks I was worried about that. Now I need a new topic.

[Hamish Kirkland]

the Rome take over? I don't know I'm horrible with ideas

[Dylan Kirkland]

Maybe. I have some ideas. I'll see how well they turn out and go with which ever one works best. I'm surprised you didn't say anything about Hamish being a warning.

[isabellaluvsu]

I only read th first chapter so far, but very nicely done! I really like the oc and the way you portrayed them~

[Dylan Kirkland]

Thanks each time I post is a different chapter. I'm just keeping them on one thread.

[Hamish Kirkland]

Hamish has to be a warning. He's an asshole with a brother complex. He's warning enough

[Dylan Kirkland]

Okay that made burst out laughing. Now my dog is giving me weird looks.

[Hamish Kirkland]

I'm glad you enjoyed that XD If I ever wrote a story about Scotland and France the warning would be "Warning Scotland is in this which mean violence, curse, screaming, scottish slang, and brother complexes."