My Brother's Keeper: 1 (2p!HetaliaxReader)

    The secret was out.

    For the first nineteen years of _________'s life she had been kept a secret by her older brothers. You see,_________ was the little sister of two Italian brothers named Luciano and Flavio Vargas. Technically, she was only their half sister, related to them through the father they all shared in common, but the relation seemed to be enough for the three to forge close bonds. Because of this, both brothers were protective over her- or at least as protective as the two could be, taking their personalities into consideration.

    Their family wasn't exactly... "normal". Their father had come from a long line of mafia leaders, and someday they were to be his heirs. That day had come sooner rather than later when he had "passed away quite suddenly". The truth was, he was murdered. By who? Luciano. The young boy, only age eleven at the time, had killed his own father without batting an eye while both his brother and younger sister watched. After that, their aging grandfather had took control of the mafia, that is, until Luciano turned fifteen, staged a coup, and took over himself. Now, he was the head of the powerful Italian Mafia. Naturally, he was going to have enemies, which leads us back to the Vargas family's best kept secret: _________.

    It wasn't that they were ashamed of her, far from it, her brother Flavio was the "black sheep" of the family and _________ was actually second in line for the head of the organization, ready to take over if something were to ever happen to her brother. No, the problem had nothing to do with her specifically, only that Luciano was worried. Despite being a sadistic killer who had slaughtered his own father, he did have some loyalty when it came to family. While he might not have necessarily liked his twin brother, he did have a soft spot for his little sister. So he had kept her a secret, letting no one, not even his closest associates, know that he had another sibling besides Flavio.

    Of course, there were exceptions to this rule, one example being the man she had killed a few days ago on the side walk. However, they were nobodies, common criminals, arrogant thugs, or cheated dealers with a vendetta. They could easily be taken care of and Luciano knew that his sister would have no problem doing so. It was the others his was wary of, the ones he considered "friends", "partners", or "associates". There was no doubt in his mind that his sister could hold her own, she was related to him after all, but he didn't want to take any chances of them trying to use his little sister against him.

    That was all over now though, for that idiot brother of his had screwed up.

    Flavio had moved to Florida several years ago, leaving his two siblings and a life in the mafia to study fashion design at college. He would call occasionally to keep in touch but for the most part he kept to himself. If only he could have kept his secrets to himself too.

    He had made a friend, a Spanish man a few years older than him that went by the name of  Andres. Flavio was a social creature, and making friends was to be expected, as was gossiping and sharing about his life. So when Andres had walked in on one of his phone calls back home he had nonchalantly answered that he was talking to his baby sister back home. He had thought that it wouldn't matter. Andres didn't know about his family's connection to the mafia, and even if he did they were too far away from his old home back in L.A. to do anything about it. It was a harmless little tidbit of information, that was all. However, even the most seemingly begin fact can be a weapon when in the right hands and used against the right people.

    And Andres had connections.

    He didn't mean to do it on purpose, all he had done was complain to some old friends of his once about the fashionable Italian and his stupid "girl talk" with his sister all the time. It just so happened that his old friends were Gilen Beilschmidt, older brother to Lutz Beilschmidt, who was one of Luciano's right hand men and "friends", and Francois Bonnefoy, head of a rival mafia who knew of the Vargas' well.

    It was an honest mistake, really. That wasn't going to stop Luciano from kicking his brother's ass of course, but it was a mistake none the less.

    A dangerous one.

    So now, here he was, pissed off and making his way to his sister's house, seeing as she didn't live with him at the mafia base for obvious reasons. To say that he had been surprised when Lutz had mentioned something about his sister so causally in passing was an understatement. He had nearly killed his dear "friend" while trying to get information out of him on what he knew and how. Thankfully, he hadn't known much, only that the girl existed, not her name, appearance, or location. That had quelled his mounting anger, to some extent, until Lutz had told him that Francois and the others knew about her as well, then he pinned Lutz to the table in office with a dagger and exited the room in a murderous fury.

    Her home wasn't far from his, only a few blocks away, and he managed to cover the ground quickly. He kicked her door open when he arrived, not bothering to pick the lock like he usually did when visiting her. He found her in the kitchen, setting on the counter, leg's crossed, expression bored, and the end of a lollipop sticking out of her mouth. The only greeting he received was one eyebrow raised in question. The two stared at each other in silence before she broke it, removing the finished treat from her mouth and throwing the stick to the side.

    "Hello Luci."

    "Ciao bella," he greeted her, a smirk overcoming his face at the nickname that only she was allowed to call him. His tense figure relaxed, something he found himself doing often when around her. _________ took the time to study him, immediately able to tell that something was off. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for her brother to break into her house unannounced and uninvited with no real reason for being there, but something in his eyes and his posture told her that this time was different from his other visits.

    The two looked nothing alike, probably due to the fact that they were only blood related by one parent. Luciano was a brunette with lightly tanned skin and a strange curl that stuck out on the side of his head. He usually wore military uniforms and carried many, many knives with him. The dangerous smirk rarely every left his face, and he seemed to radiate an aura of playful, seductive danger. The only possible similarity between the two was their eyes. His were colored the same dark purple that swirled within her (e/c) and held the same fiery spark hers did when amused, accompanied by a cold, ruthless, and murderous glow that her own eyes lacked.

    "What's wrong?" she asked, although she didn't sound too concerned, the only indication she even cared about what was bothering him the curiosity that shone in her gaze.

    "Some-a bastardi found-a out about you, bella. I-a came to make-a sure you were okay."

    She raised another eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching up in a barely repressed grin and her eyes lighting up more intensely than they had in a long time. She felt like laughing, but stopped herself, knowing that it would just make her brother upset. She couldn't help it though; this was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in years and she was enjoying it immensely.

    It was ironic, considering the expression she usually wore, but she absolutely loathed boredom. Now, something was finally happening that proved to be interesting, and she wasn't going to let the opportunity slip from her grasp.

    Luciano appeared to know what she was thinking, for he snapped at her a second later. "You-a don't have to look so-a happy about it!" She quickly schooled her features back into a mask of disinterest. "Strana ragazza," he muttered under his breath, arms crossed over his chest.

    Sometimes _________ hated the fact that he knew her better than anyone else, even Flavio, but then she figured that everyone had to have at least someone who understood them so completely, or else they would go insane. For _________, that  person was Luciano. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, and he read her subtle expressions as if she wore her heart on her sleeve. To him, the mysterious girl was an open book and vice versa. She seemed to be able to understand him better than anyone else as well, and she was the only person he was willing to listen to.

    "Just don't-a do anything stupid," he ordered, turning to take his leave. She didn't stop him, she was accustomed to his sudden appearances and disappearances in her home. Instead, she began imagining all of the fun that she could have now that the secret was finally out.

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    Trouble came only a day later, when _________ had gone out to restock her groceries. Living alone meant that she didn't have to go shopping often, something that she was thankful for, but she did need to restock on the necessities roughly every other week, the necessities being chocolate, knives, and cherry flavored lollipops. Knives she usually got from her brother, but chocolate and lollipops were innocent enough items that she could pick up at the store, which was currently what she was hunting now. She would admit that she had a slight addiction, especially when it came to chocolate, but she saw nothing wrong with that. She had plenty of money to waste anyways, most of it not even being her own.

    She had paid and left the convenience store easily enough; the trouble came once she had stepped foot outside.

    "Yo Vargas!" a heavily accented American voice shouted at her. She paused mid-step, casting a blank look over in the direction the voice had come from. She originally thought that it would be the standard victim, but one look told her otherwise, a smirk fighting its way onto her face.

    Two men were making their way towards her, and they were, in her opinion at least... interesting. One had dark, rustic reddish-brown hair, tan skin, and red eyes that reminded her of dried blood. He was wearing a bomber jacket and jeans, smirking in a sadistic manner, eyes watching her like a predator watches his prey. The second man was slightly taller with pale white skin, blood hair tied back at the nape of his neck, and dull violet eyes. He looked as if he didn't care to be here, walking a few steps behind the other one, and she thought, with great amusement, if that was how she looked to most people. He wore plaid, torn jeans, and a strange curl hung down from his head. What really caught her attention though were the weapons they carried over their shoulders, a blood stained bat with nails and a wrapped hockey stick. These two were clearly not just some thugs off the street, but dangerous, and that excited her.

    "You Luciano's sister?" the first male asked rather arrogantly, stopping a few feet in front of her. She recognized the voice as the one that had called out to her.

    "And if I am?" she asked, tone bored.

    "Then you're coming with us dollface," he purred, leaning down so that they were eye to eye, his smirk growing. He expected fear, or protest, so he was shocked when he received nothing but a raised brow. Her reply shocked him even more.

    "If you're going to kidnap me you might as well wait until we're in a less populated area," she pointed out emotionlessly, as if she didn't care one way or the other if they took her. The odd response gained the attention of both males, who stared at her as if they couldn't believe what they had just heard. She didn't wait to see their reactions, opting to turn around and continue on her way home instead.

    "H-hey!" the American shouted, catching up to her and grabbing her arm roughly and jerking her to a stop. She didn't react to the manhandling, but did stop walking. "What the hell's wrong with you? That's not the proper reaction!"

    She didn't understand why he cared, but she decided not to ask. "The name's _________. What's yours?" she asked, pulling her arm free and walking again.

    "What the literal fuck?" he exclaimed, seemingly horrified by her attitude. A chuckle sounded next to him as the blonde followed the girl without question.

    "Matt," he told her gruffly. She noticed that his voice was a tad deeper than the other man's. He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back at his companion. "That asshole's Allen, and unfortunately we're related." He let out a sigh, as if it was indeed a misfortunate burden that he was forced to carry. Her lips twitched and she released a small chuckle of her own, causing Matt to look at her curiously.

    "The name's Al, and if anyone's an asshole here it's you, ya asshole!" Allen, who now wanted to be called Al, broke in, jogging up to their side looking a little pissed off. His outburst made it all the harder for _________ to keep the smile off her face.

    "I like you two," she told them bluntly. "You're funny."

    Her words caught them off guard and they just stared, wide eyed, not really knowing what to make of her anymore. After having learned from Francois that Luciano- man, they hated that bastard- had a sister that he had been protecting all these years, they had planned on kidnapping her, maybe roughing her up a bit, just as a little revenge from a stunt that Italian mafia leader had pulled a while ago. They assumed it would be easy, she was just one girl after all. Now? They had no idea what to think.

    "Hey, why'd ya stop?" Al asked warily, having noticed that the girl had stopped walking a few feet back. It was then that he also noticed their surroundings. They were in a park with a wooded area and there was hardly anyone around. 'So she wasn't lying about going some place with less people,' he thought in confusion. He couldn't seem to figure this girl out. First she willingly gave them her name and then she wanted to make their job easier on them? Not that he was complaining, of course.

    "What do you want with Luciano?" she asked, face void of any expression.

    "Nothing much babe, just a little revenge~," Al grinned, throwing his bat over his shoulder, red eyes gleaming with a dark anticipation now that they were alone.

    She nodded, like it was no big deal, glancing away from them with a sigh. "In that case, I'm going to have to take a rain check on the whole kidnapping thing. Maybe some other time?" she asked casually. She had turned her head to hide her smirk, which she could no longer deny.

    "What?!?!" Al burst out, none too happy with the way things were going. "Maybe I wasn't clear enough before," he growled, stalking towards her, "but we're not giving you a choice here doll!" With that he raised his bat, going in for the kill- or this case, the knock out.

    He had closed his eyes, waiting to relish in the screams, in the warm red liquid that would splash against his face once he felt the resistance of his bat hitting flesh. When the force of impact didn't come, he opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. "The hell-" he stopped when he saw what had happened, red eyes widening. There __________ was, holding the nail free tip of his bat in one hand. How she had been able to stop the force of his blow with just one hand, and just inches away from her side, he didn't know. He did know, that he didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.

    In a rush of movement almost too fast for the human eye to follow, _________ used her grip on the bat to pull him forward, kneeing him in the chest, a loud "oof!" following. Her other hand was placed securely in her jacket pocket, and with a twitch a long gash appeared on his side, red staining his white shirt under his bomber jacket. She yanked the bat upwards, smashing his head with his own weapon as he was still doubled over in pain. She pulled away, bat still in hand, as Al's unconscious body fell to the ground with a thud.

    It hadn't even taken more than a minute to take him out.

    Matt, who had witnessed the whole thing from the side lines, just blinked dumbly. If the situation was different, he might have laughed at his jackass brother getting beaten by a girl- hell, he would still tease him about it later- but when __________ cast him a glance, standing over his brother's body, he figured that now wasn't really the time.

    He brought his hockey stick in front of him in a defensive position, but when she didn't make a move towards him he frowned, rushing forward and switching to offense. He swung his stick down, but she blocked with Al's bat. One of her legs swung out, sweeping him off his feet. At the same time, the hand gripping her knife safely in her pocket stealthily struck again, creating a diagonal cut across his chest and stomach. He hit the ground with a hard thud, cussing as his vision went in and out of focus from hitting his head on the concrete. His eyes widened though when he saw a blurry bat coming straight for his head. That was the last thing he saw before he fell into unconsciousness as well.

    _________ stood there calmly, eyes glittering with amusement, the purple in her (e/c) eyes swirling brightly. She tossed the bloodied bat aside, next to Al's still form, and then leaned down to riffle through their pockets. She found both of their wallets, which she pocketed the cash from before replacing them, and Al's cell phone. She took the phone along with the money, straightening and glancing around the park to make sure that it was still empty.

    She wasn't going to kill them, she knew that. They were interesting, and she hadn't lied when she said that she liked them. Besides, she wasn't a sadistic killer like her brother. She didn't derive any pleasure from excess violence and death, preferring to keep it simple. She never killed, or even fought, unless in self defense. She was sure that this fell under that category, right?

    She stepped over their bodies, leaning down to pick back up her discarded and forgotten groceries that she had dropped to the pavement before the altercation. She walked into the woods, taking a short cut home, without sparring the two a second glance.

    As she walked, she studied Al's cell phone. She found many contacts in his directory, including her brother, Luciano. She turned the phone over and removed both the memory card and battery, shoving both into her back jean pocket with the money. She threw the phone at a tree and walked on without a care in the world. The battery was to make sure that, in the off chance they found the phone, it wouldn't be working. The memory card was because she interested. All of those contacts had to have been important, right? She could put them in her own phone and go through them later.

    If ________ wasn't a killer, than she was a thief. Money, information, objects- you name it, if she wanted it, then she would take it. She would freely admit to these klepto tendencies, taking anything and everything that caught her eye.

    When she returned home she rewarded herself with a chocolate bar, spread out lazily on the couch as she counted out the stolen money. An amused and dangerous smirk found it's way across her face as she did, eyes unusually bright.

    Oh yes, she was ever so glad that her brother's dirty little secret was finally out.