Family Matters [Sweden]

The airport was oddly busy, even though Peter's flight had only been half-way full, and Peter was suddenly glad that he would get to skip past some of customs thanks to his Daddy's presence. He was still fairly certain he'd end up having to show his basically-legal passport to somebody, but his Daddy was Sweden, so Peter would get to be fast-tracked just a little bit. Security had been bumped since the war had started, though. That was part of why it had taken quite so many fake papers to get him out of Britain, since customs had been naturally suspicious of someone with a (fake but almost identical to an authentic after so long) Swedish accent instead of a British one. Luckily, Peter had gotten good at these things. Or maybe unluckily. He wouldn't mention to Daddy that he'd gotten good at forgeries; that might not go over well? Oh, well, Daddy had gotten Peter by just a little but over a pirate torrenting website, so Peter was fairly certain he'd known what he was getting into. If not, he certainly did by now.

At any rate, Peter was already scanning the crowds, looking for his Daddy's unmistakable rectangular glasses and blue eyes and tall height and blonde hair, along with that feeling his Daddy always seemed to carry with him. That feeling made Peter feel safe. He was glad Daddy hadn't started fighting on a side with the rest of Peter's Uncles. It was kind of nice, knowing that his Daddy at least somewhat agreed with him. It was for different reasons, Peter was pretty sure, though. He doubted the much older Nation had quite the same emotions about the very concept of having your People fight or the same emotions about how no one should be fighting in the first place or the same tendency to break multiple laws in multiple countries trying to prove a point. But still, it was nice, not having to give up that safe feeling, not having to feel worried when visiting the person who had given him a family.

There. There he was! Peter's eyes brightened and he practically ran forwards, holding himself back only enough to not run into anyone else in the busy airport (though it still wasn't as busy as it might once have been). He threw himself at the man gladly, not at all phased by the seemingly flat expression. That was just Daddy. So when his Daddy leaned down to give him a stiff hug, Peter hugs back with great enthusiasm. "Daddy!" he squeeled happily, hugging the man close and abandoning the Swedish he'd been speaking for his flight. One of the few passengers left looked at him oddly. They must have seen him reading in Swedish. Whoops. Well, the cover story didn't matter so much now that he was properly in Sweden. Daddy could help him through his airport and his country, after all.

At the prompting, he nodded, and he grabbed his one, smaller-than-average bag from the carousel and carried it back over to his Daddy. "Yeah! It's been a while since I saw you and lots and lots happened. We caught submarines on our radar! I talked about it on my show, I think they weren't United Allegiance. I don't know how we caught them! I tried to say it was because we're high-tech 'cept I think it's actually because our radar's so old they weren't guarding against them," he explained sheepishly. He'd wanted to say more about the incident, actually, but he had told Russia that he wouldn't tell anyone that he'd seen him. Just saying that the ships weren't United Allegiance wasn't pushing it too far, he was pretty certain, so everything should be good there!

Peter wondered if he should mention some other incidents, but nah. That'd probably make Daddy worry or something, or would get Peter in trouble. He was fine now, there was no need to mention that! Instead, he remembered a funny letter he'd gotten earlier. "Uncle Mathias invited me over to his place! He sent me a letter, and it said something about teaching me weapons. Except that's silly! I'm going to go anyway, though, 'cause Uncle Mathias is silly all the time and it's probably going to be funny." He paused. "Oh! I've been reading lots and lots and have decided to get a plane! I'm not sure where, or how, really, but I really want one! It'd be super cool." He smiled brightly.

"I'm really, super glad to see you," he added brightly, reaching out and hugging his Daddy's legs. Peter's entire face shown. He really was happy.

Peter always loved seeing his Daddy. He still remembered when he was younger and Daddy had first adopted him. He remembered the one and only time he'd been scared on the way to his Daddy's house, because, for all Peter knew, Sweden was just the scary tall guy at meetings. He vaguely knew that he was Ladonia's older brother, but Ladonia alternated between being a jerk and being Peter's friend basically all the time, so Peter didn't actually know much about the man. He'd been frightened, because Sweden was intimidating. But as much as Sweden was Peter's Daddy, he proved surprisingly quickly that he was Peter's Daddy before he was Sweden so long as Peter was nearby. Not that most people could tell the difference. His Daddy was silly like that.

He was vaguely disappointed, though, that Daddy did not at least guess what the submarines were. Peter figured that, even if he probably shouldn't tell that he actually saw Russia himself, if his Daddy had guessed out loud he might have been able to confirm that yeah, that was exactly it! Except that hadn't happened, and Peter felt vaguely guilty for even thinking of it. Oh well. He shouldn't be pushing it too much, anyway. He had given his word that he wouldn't tell and he didn't particularly feel like breaking it, even if, in all technicality, he'd never said "I promise". Especially not after that conversation he'd had with Russia. He was such a jerk.

"Yeah," said Peter, "Mathias. He seems to think I can't protect myself or something, but that's kinda dumb. I have a canon." He said this slowly, as though it should be obvious to anyone who listened to him. "I'm mostly going over to his place 'cause I figure it'll be funny." Then he leaned in a little closer to Sweden and whispered conspiratorially "I think he still doesn't know how to handle me and it's hilarious." He gave a small laugh. That, and Peter was fairly certain Tino intimidated Mathias. Which was, in Peter's mind, totally correct. Daddy's friend Tino? Many, many times more intimidating than any of the other Nordics. Really, Peter never understood why people were so freaked out by his Daddy and Uncle Lucas. They clearly did not know who the most dangerous person in the room was, then.

At any rate, his Daddy's words made Peter stop and pause for a moment. "Fly it," he started to say, before blushing and realizing that no, that probably wasn't what his Daddy meant when he asked what Peter would do with a plane. Whoops. Eheh. "Um, no- I mean yes, but- er, I'm not sure where we'll put it? Maybe we need a seaplane. Yeah, a seaplane..." He thought about this for several moments. Was it safe to park seaplanes in the water, or would he need to get it some kind of hangar? It wouldn't rust, right? He certainly wouldn't have room to build a runway, now that he thought about it... Yes, this warranted further investigation.

Peter smiled even brighter when his Daddy leaned down and ruffled his hair, his face positively glowing, basking in the love he felt from his family. He loved having a family, even if it had been kind of a messed-up screwed-up one lately. He loved knowing that there were people who cared for him, and he loved it when his Daddy reaffirmed that fact, even in the smallest of motions. He positively soaked up most affection he was given, even if he had been a little bit more guarded lately. He always liked to be reminded that Daddy would come back for him, even if things got real bad (right?).

One of the guards- funny, Peter hadn't noticed Daddy had brought an escort until just now, he'd been too focussed on the man himself- picked up Peter's bags. "Be careful," he advised the man in Swedish, "if you have to go through any security with that." He rubbed the back of his head. The guard shouldn't actually have to go through security unless things had changed a bunch, because he was a Swedish citizen. Peter was once more very glad for the passport he'd gotten from Daddy once and that he'd played with the dates on every time he needed to use it. It made situations like this so much easier. Even if he still did know how to sneak things through.

And then, somehow, his Daddy picked him up. Peter grinned again. Despite what his Daddy seemed to think, Peter wasn't a light kid. He was made half out of metal and concrete, both of which tend to be very, very heavy in something Peter's size. He probably weighed double the weight of a normal kid his size, if not more than that. When he told people he was a strong swimmer, he really wasn't kidding; despite his instinctual ability to swim, he had a whole lot of mass to keep buoyant. It always made Peter happy to see his Daddy able to pick him up like that. 'Okay!" Peter chirped. "It's been awhile since I've been in my bedroom there!" He very nearly asked if Ladonia was home, but decided against it. It wasn't too greedy if he wanted Daddy to himself, just for a little bit, right? Then he'd figure out if the other boy was around. Yeah.

Peter smiled as he rode on his Daddy's shoulders. His quiet, laughing beam lit up everything around him as he held close to him, loving the feeling of being carried around. His Daddy was one of the few people who was able to do that, really, and it was something special between the two of them. He threw his hands in the air and laughed, not caring if other patrons of the airport looked at him oddly, not caring that the people around him would wonder why a single dad and his kid were being followed by an armed escort. He almost didn't notice, actually. He just liked that his Daddy was there.

The guards were somewhat new, though. They wouldn't have always been there. Peter liked to think they weren't necessary. Really! Almost everyone on Fort Roughs knew Peter was something special, and none of them had done anything bad to him yet. It had been a nearly impossible secret to keep, considering that it remained a relatively small group of people and that Peter insisted on being involved with everything. In Sweden, though, no one necessarily knew Sweden was his Daddy, because Peter had the distinct impression that these things were supposed to be kept mostly secret. If anything, the guards gave away that Daddy had to be something especially important. But he didn't mind, really, even if it was almost sad, the way they had to watch their backs despite trying very, very hard to stay out of everything.

But more importantly, it was happy. It was happy that Peter still got to see his Daddy at all, considering all the people Peter realized he couldn't see on a regular basis (they'd better finish this stupid war soon, or else he was going to go insane wanting for them, he was going to go insane, because he needed his friends, he really did). He liked seeing his Daddy, even if Peter was pretty sure there was something wrong. There was something wrong with everyone, these days, even Peter himself (he hadn't seen Raivis or anyone in too long). As they went outside, it was cold, but Peter didn't mind. He'd learned to swim in the North Sea. He could take the cold, even if he used it as an excuse to lean down and hug his Daddy a bit tighter.

Then Peter was lifted off his Daddy's shoulders and his luggage was put in the back of the car and Peter climbed in the back, but not before looking up and grinning. "That was great!" he said. "Thanks, Daddy!" He smiled brightly and tilted his head, his eyes shut and his smile taking up his entire face. "I'm so happy!" he added, that brightness and lightness still swimming through his limbs up his face all the way into his somewhat large eyebrows. If his eyes hadn't been shut, they'd have been brimming with light as well. And then Peter turned away and strapped himself into the car. He'd just wanted to make sure Daddy knew that. That Peter was happy to see him, he meant. It was super important. His Daddy should be told all the time that people were happy to see him, reminded of how happy he made Peter. Everyone should know.

Then the car started moving and Peter started swinging his feet. He thought that maybe he could ask Daddy to turn on the radio. He liked singing along to the songs, but he also liked listening to the news, or even just listening in general. But instead his Daddy asked him a question. Oh. No wonder Daddy was so upset. Peter knew that Finland, whatever he was to Peter, was very important to Daddy. And Peter wasn't certain what Tino was. Was Tino an uncle? That didn't make sense, not with the way Daddy was so close to him. But at the same time, some people assumed that Peter saw Tino as a parent, and almost, he almost did, but not quite. He'd always been closer to Daddy, and Peter could see that, as much as he loved their family, Daddy would always come first in his mind. So, what was Tino to Peter? Peter wasn't sure. He just knew that he was Daddy's best friend.

So Daddy must be very sad if he hadn't seen him in a while. He must be very sad indeed. Peter looked down for a moment. "I- it's not safe," he said. "I haven't. I haven't seen him in a while," Peter said finally. "I don't even see Raivis anymore, really," he added. His Daddy knew how close Peter was to his best friend, so hopefully he would be able to understand. If Peter hadn't seen Raivis- and oh, wouldn't Peter have tried- then Finland was also not at the top of Peter's list of priorities at the moment. Peter had a lot of other things he had to do, too, like rescue people, or keep his country running safely, or trying to figure out how to split the always not-quite-enough and not-quite-modern things he had. 

The thought that his Daddy could arrange a meeting with someone Peter hadn't seen in a long time made him smile again, though. "I don't know how long I can stay! I think I can stay a week, maybe. I don't know if I can stay much longer? But if you can in a week, that's great!" he smiled again. "But... Well, I'd be perfectly fine just spending it with you, too!"

Peter could tell his Daddy was faking it a little. He was trying to look happy, or at least, happy for him, but he couldn't exactly hide from Peter, not the way he hid from some people with his inscrutable expressions and blank stares. He knew perfectly well that Daddy was probably having trouble getting food, or at least, he could guess that much; Sweden was not exactly a land filled with arable fields. Not that Peter could say much, anyway. He'd been having the same problems, he had to fake it plenty often, too. He'd just have to be extra sure to be as happy as possible, whenever possible, around him. Then his Daddy would get properly happy.

Idly, Peter wondered, while watching familiar landmarks (ever a little colder) slide by the window, if his Daddy had seen more people than Peter had, lately. Maybe, probably. His Daddy had more People in the first place, Peter supposed. He wondered, then, if he'd seen more Nations. Probably. Peter had, if he was honest with himself, been avoiding a lot of other Nations, just due to the situation. Running into one while trying to sneak people away from their battle-lines and fronts would be an... interesting... thing to try to explain. "Yes, hello, none of these people agree with you, terribly sorry, we have to go," that would go badly, wouldn't it?

Then again, Peter had actually been seeing some people lately. Mind you, at least one of them had been completely involuntary and another was just a letter, but maybe his Daddy hadn't been seeing more people than Peter. That, somehow, was just as sad, if not a little more sad, because his Daddy wasn't Peter. Peter had a small place that needed constant running, constant repairs, constant work, and the constant shield of Peter not making anyone any more mad at him then they all already were. Daddy could defend himself, though. Peter really hoped, now that he thought about it, that he had been able to see more people than him...

For a moment, his expression fell into a more neutral one (though with still a slight smile, even if a sadder one) as he looked out the window. Everything seemed a little, well, gray-er than it normally did. But- and here his smile brightened again- he was here, wasn't he? That was certainly good enough for him! From where he was, he turned away from the window and grinned. He knew perfectly well that Daddy wanted him here to keep him safe. But he should know better than that. Even when traveling wasn't dangerous, Peter wouldn't stay at Daddy's house for more than a month, two months at a time. True, sometimes he'd alternated months, but Fort Roughs was home. 

"That sounds good to me!" Peter said. "I'm glad to be here," he continued. He was pretty certain he'd said that at least once. Probably multiple times. No reason not to say it again, though! No reason not to say it again and again and again and again and again and again until it bled into his Daddy's head, until it bled into his own head, until it bled into the air around him and made everyone here happy.

He kicked his feet back and forth from where he sat in the back seat. "I brought a portable radio kit, too, and I'm gonna do the show. Do you listen to it? I bet you listen to it. Lad helped me! He did all of the programming stuff. I just built things. Do you know where he is? He's somewhere home too, right? I mean, I want to be with you, first, but- well, I want to be with you first, but if you see him, tell him to say hi." Peter nodded assuredly.

Soon, the car reached Sweden's "house", and Peter smiled into his hand. He'd always found it funny that his Daddy liked living in a store, though it did seem nice, living somewhere that there would always be people coming to say hi, always be people all around you. That was one thing he loved about his home in Sealand. It was small, but everyone was nearby, and, even if they all didn't really quite know each other, they sorta did, and they all at least knew of him. He liked being surrounded by people. He figured Daddy did, as well.

He practically skipped out of the car, spinning in a circle as he did. After a moment, he noticed someone struggling with Peter's bags. This was quite the feat, as Peter had packed relatively light, though the radio kit might have been a wee bit heavier than a normal person's "packing light" would suggest. "Oh, let me help with that!" he said, skipping over to him just as he got it lifted and was carrying it properly. The man waves him off, probably wondering why Berwald's overly excitable adopted son (did the boy go to school overseas or something...?) thought he could carry more weight than he could. Peter shrugged and kept on walking.

"I know where I'm going!" Peter replied to his Daddy, smiling quite widely. He hopped in the elevator too, tapping his foot as he did. It probably would be exactly as he remembered it. One thing Peter didn't do was leave his room a mess; he even made his bed, something that he had been jokingly made fun of for at least once. 

Peter beamed loudly when his Daddy said he watched Peter's show. It wasn't like Peter didn't think he did, it was just... Peter said some unpopular things sometimes. Yeah. It was nice to know that one member of his family, at least, wanted to hear each episode. Peter wondered if he could ask his Daddy for advice on it, later, some ideas to keep the show from getting stale or boring or generally to focus less on the rambling- though, within his usual time frame, he had less and less time for pointless rambling, not under just news. News no one wanted to hear, but had to be said anyway.

He laughed a little. "You know Lad, I think he just scoffed at me and said that I was failing at something incredibly simple and all that. Then again, he's also full of it," Peter said cheerfully. Peter's problem with programming had long lay in learning the languages that went with it, actually. If programming was just a little bit more mathy, he could do it. He could even build circuit boards already! It was just that programming meant wrapping his head around a language he didn't know. As it was, he'd only become fluent in Swedish after years and years and several times when he'd gotten lost and had to learn real fast to get anywhere.

Peter skipped happily into his room not long after. It was always funny for Peter, his room at his Daddy's house. He'd never tell his Daddy this, but in some ways, it was just too... big. It wasn't that it was a big room, necessarily, but it wasn't small, steel walls and a bunkbed left in place, just in case someone visited, a few steps across the room to the desk, a few steps across the room to the door, if that made any sense at all. It was big and ridiculous and he loved it, but a small part of him would always be wondering what the extra space could be used for if the walls were made narrower and the ceiling was made lower.

That being said, he did love it, and he made a noise that completely was not a squeal when he saw the plane, before immediately grabbing a wrench. It took a minute for his brain to catch up with the fact that it was a model, meant for his ridiculous kids room, and even if it was well built, it almost certainly did not have the many functioning parts required for an airplane. There was really no reason for him to pull it apart, then. (Once again, though, a small part of Peter's mind just wanted the metal. He shoved that aside.)

"I love it!" he said, pulling open one of the drawers and pulling out one of the meticulously coiled wires, holding it up against the airplane. These were the small copper wires, the ones that he couldn't really use for anything at home thanks to corrosion. It would be fine to see what he could do with the model plane, but unless he collected enough wires, there wasn't much he could reuse the metal for, either. He figured that no one would mind him playing with it, especially if he left it here, where his Daddy could use it if he wanted to.

...it hit Peter that he hadn't always been so... so... so resource-starved, he supposed. Or something. Nothing that could be done about it now, though.

His Daddy poked his head back into the room, and from his Daddy's- well, not his expression exactly, but his- not exactly his body language, just- it's just all of it together, Peter's pretty certain- he's nervous about something he's about to say. So Peter straightens up a bit. Still, he doesn't get it at first. "That sounds good! It'd be good to see them, if they have time!" And if you get over whatever it is between you and Uncle Mathias, at least a little bit.

Then he got it. Oh. That's what he was nervous about. Peter already knows the answer, of course- it's no. Of course he can't just stay at his Daddy's house forever, in Sweden's house until the end of the war. He hesitates, though. He has no idea what angle to approach this from. He stomps down the small part of him that wants to get angry, first, because he doesn't want to get angry at his Daddy if he can help it. Instead, he just focusses on all of the arguments that have come up into his head. 

Somehow, the first one that comes out is "But I can't leave home for that long," and then he realizes that he's used the weakest one, because, to his Daddy, there's plenty of evidence that he could. Worse, it still leaves him lost- should he elaborate about the crawling feeling it gives him to be gone too long, the sleep deprivation, the horrible, empty feeling that everything could vanish on him if he didn't look? Or should he go the more practical, rooted in reality entirely, not try to explain emotions that few other people understood (the ones that came from just not quite being all person)?

He went with the latter. The former danced in his eyes. "I build half the stuff," he elaborates, "and I fix them, with my hands. Plus, the portable radio kit I brought is still going to be a pain to use to contact some people." Like Anna, from space. He needed his proper tower for that. "Besides, would you want to stay somewhere else that long? It feels... weird." 

He got up, walked across the room, and hugged his Daddy. Peter didn't say anything, but he tried to convey something along the lines of it was a nice offer, even though, while Peter would take it in the spirit it was given, to Peter, it was a nearly skin-crawling, trapped sort of offer. He just... would never actually say that. That would be horrible and mean. He knew his Daddy was just trying to protect him, but Peter didn't need protection, not like that! And it wouldn't even be real protection- the fact remained that, should anything happen to the Fort Roughs, should anything happen to Sealand, the place, Peter would still find himself bleeding salt and rust.

Maybe a nicely-meant offer, but never one Peter could take. "Sorry," he said, still hugging Berwald. "I can see if I can visit a bit longer, though?"

Peter didn't like making his Daddy upset, that was for certain, and so he actually felt rather guilty for being unable to stay. He just couldn't, though. As it was, Peter still sometimes got physically sick if he had to stay out of Sealand for too, too long a time. It took much more than it used to for that to happen to him, but it still totally could happen. Peter was pretty sure that this was a weird Peter thing, too, and not a normal Nation thing. He'd just never had the opportunity to ask. A lot of people acted like this was stuff he was just supposed to know (even when he didn't) or like he was the same as everyone else (even when he wasn't).

He could tell that his Daddy was frowning somewhere inside him, though, and felt bad about that, but this was something he had to do. He hadn't been proven wrong yet. He just wished he could explain that all better, somehow, explain how one anti-aircraft gun and some radar was perfectly enough to work with, or, better yet, explain how being somewhere where he couldn't see any ocean always made him inexplicably nervous. (He'd once said it like this: if some Nations said that Mother Nature had created them, well, the problem was that Peter was man-made. But the Sea had adopted him.)

Peter beamed when his Daddy said that he was proud, though. Daddy was proud of him! And of his accomplishments! That certainly meant something, didn't it? He was positively glowing after he said that. "You are?" Peter said. "I mean- I-" He couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you," he responded, slightly overwhelmed all of a sudden. He knew in his head that Daddy would always be proud of him, but to hear it said out loud made him glow with happiness. His Daddy was proud of him! His Daddy was proud of him! Let's shout it to the world! But, uh, first... he hugged his Daddy one last time. Just so he knew how grateful Peter was for such an awesome Daddy, because he should always be reminded of that fact.

At the question about if Peter was hungry, Peter blinked. Hold on. He might have to think about that one for a minute. Um... What was he supposed to say? He knew for a fact that his Daddy was having food problems, too, and while they probably weren't as pronounced as some of the problems Peter had been having lately, they still existed. Peter didn't want to cause his Daddy further problems. Also, Peter hadn't been feeling as hungry lately, which, all things considered, was just as likely a bad sign as a good one, but he'd take what he got. Then again... he did sort of really want something to eat, now that it was mentioned...

"Sure," he said finally, with slightly less enthusiasm than he might have said it normally (a sign his Daddy would certainly pick up on but it was a bit late now). "I don't need much, though!" he added cheerfully. Would that work? That would probably work. That way, he wouldn't have to feel guilty about taking too much or anything, either! There! Everything was all worked out.

The next question that his Daddy asked, though, made Peter pause and frown for a moment. Movements... from the war? Why did his Daddy need to hear about that? Still, Peter didn't see the harm in it, for the moment... "...sometimes?" Peter said, sounding a little confused. "I can't talk about some of that stuff, I think, but... mostly British stuff 'cause they're closest?" Peter didn't think to stop talking, though, when he continued on, rambling in a rather Peter-ish fashion. "I mean, if I really tried and got a little help from like Lad and probably Seb- he knows more about this war stuff than most of us- I could probably get more by building something fancy but I don't really know why I'd need it I mostly just need the radar system to prevent accidents..." He paused, blinked for a moment.

"Why do you ask?" Peter finally said, sounding genuinely confused.