"Catch me if you can, papa!"

Peter Kirkland bolted off into the fresh snowfall, giggling and laughing. Berwald stood at the doorway, a tiny smille working into the Swede's face as he gave the child a headstart. It was good to hear the laughter of children ringing through the cool December air. It felt like home, the home he tried so valiantly to protect and shelter. Once Peter gained enough ground the viking leapt from place, tearing off through the snow after him. Without wars and conflicts to keep him on his toes, he relied on Danmark and the children to keep him on his toes. It felt good to just run and play for the sake of it again.

Berwald reached out, narrowly missing the micronation's hat as they ran around the barn. Peter giggled, kicking at the side of the building loosening the snow to fall on his papa's head. He turned around, laughing as Berwald shook himself off like a dog, brushing away the stray clumps before beginning their chase once more. He knew Berwald was letting him win, it would take the former viking no effort at all to catch him if he truly wanted to.

Peter whipped around another corner, ducking into the bed of the truck Sweden kept when they went to get supplies for the farm. He grinned brightly, burying himself down into the snowbanks. When Papa came by, he'd leap out and tackle him! That's what he'd do! So he lay in wait, trembling in anticipation. He listened in to the wind, seeking out the sound of the Swede's footsteps in the snow. He could come from anywhere if he decided to heighten the stakes. From above, from below, there was no telling what the Swede would do.

But he never came. No footsteps, no crunching of snow beneath heavy heels. Peter slowly crept out from his hiding place, looking around. The only steps in the snow were his own, no shadows on the barn roof, no calling from Mama Tino to come back inside. Something got tight inside his chest, a feeling he'd never felt before. Like a piece within him inherently knew something was wrong. He had to find Berwald!

"Papa?" Peter came back around the corner, freezing when he saw the body of his father in the snow. Berwald was kneeling, the front of his coat open showing blood on his chest dripping down to stain the pure snow. He tried to smile through whatever pain he was in, Peter knew the look well. It was what Papa did anytime something was wrong. But this was different, he'd never seen Papa bleed before, not like this! He ran over to Sweden, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"What's wrong? Papa, what happened?"

"Ge' Tino.."

"But.. you're hurt! C'mon, I'll get you inside!"

Peter felt his insides freeze under the chill of Berwald's eyes. He's never seen Papa look so... angry. Desperate. Deciding further protest was a bad idea Peter ran back toward the house.

"Mama! Mama something's wrong!" He found Tino standing in front of a radio, a look of sadness in his eyes. Peter could barely catch the rapid Swedish coming over the station but he didn't miss Tino's whispered words:

"Why.. us?"

"Mama!" Peter's voice snapped Tino out of his daze, the Finn turning to look down at his panicked child. No words were spoken but suddenly another bulb clicked in Finland's head.

"Call Aleksander. Where's your father?"

"He's behind the barn.. Mama, what's going on?"

Tino didn't answer as he hurried out of the house. Frustrated that no one was answering him, he took out his cell phone and called the one person who would give him answers. Peter hid up in his room, tucking himself into the warm blanket as he listened to the ringing. Finally, the meek little voice of his best friend came to his ear.

"Latvia! Something's wrong with my papa!"

"W-What do you mean wrong..?"

"He.. he fell down in the snow and he's bleeding and looks like he's in alot of pain! W-What's wrong with him!" Peter felt his eyes start to burn with the tears as they fell down. He knew there'd been a fair amount of turmoil in the country but Berwald had been fine up until today! Or.. had he just been hiding it?

"Something happened to his country.. S-something big or.. or significant enough to damage him." Latvia whispered in his little voice. "I-It happens.."

"But.. what happened?" Latvia was physically closest in age to him, but he was really smart in the ways of the world. Peter knew he could trust the Baltic for answers.

"H-Hang on.. I'll look around online.."

Peter could hear the quick tapping of keys on the other end, below the front door had opened and he could hear the muffled voices of his parents. He had never seen Tino look so afraid. He could still see in his mind the blood of his father on the snow. They were coming closer now, going into the bathroom across from his bedroom door. It felt like forever waiting for Latvia to come back on the other end.

"Someone attacked Stockholm.. That's Sweden's capital, right?"

"Well yeah, but.. why would anyone hurt Papa?"

"I d-don't know. All I know, Peter.. is that this is what h-happens to us. If something big goes down, then we're the ones that suffer for it.."

"But Papa hasn't done anything wrong! It's not fair!" Tears fell from his eyes, shaking. Someone was after his Papa? No.. No he didn't want to lose his family!

"He d-doesn't need to, personally." Latvia explained, "The only ones that need to mess up are the people. We p-pay for their mistakes.. and we feel t-their pain. That.. is why your parents and England try so hard to make you understand w-what it means to really be a country. You're safe this way."

"I-I'm gonna let you go..."

He clapped the phone shut, staring down at the blanket as he felt his heart give way and more tears started to flow. It wasn't fair.. His family had dont nothing wrong! They shouldn't have to suffer for people's bad decisions! Peter didn't look up when the door opened, Tino shuffling across the room to come sit next to his son and hold him tight. He clung to the Finn, burying his face into his chest and crying his little heart out.

"Papa's okay.. It was just a little mark.."

"It's not fair, mama... It's not fair! Papa's a good man!"

"I know, Peter. Believe me, I know."

Tino closed his eyes, slowly petting his son's hair as he sang a little lullaby. He tucked a blanket around Peter as he laid him down, watching the child's tears slowly come to a stop. He watched and stroked the child's hair, voice swelling with the songs until finally the excitement had worn the child out to sleep. Rising from the bed, a single tear fell from Finland's own eyes.

Perhaps ignorance was truly bliss after all...