***I don't own Hetalia. Or any of this crap. Except the story itself****

Sweden watched Finland from the other side of the kitchen table. They had just had another huge argument over whether Finland was a woman or not in the marriage, which Finland objected to by pulling down his pants and exposing...it. Sweden was enraged and tried pulling Finland's pants back up since he wasn't in the mood for Finland's shit right now. In fact, it had been a while since the two had been caring towards each other except for show. They could go to parties at Denmark's house and act happy, but the kisses were all fake and felt wrong, the hugs were cold and unnatural now, and even the laughter was forced and dead. Finland missed the days where Sweden was always there for him, where Sweden was his rock, where Sweden was the thing he looked forward to coming home to after a long day of work, where Sweden was Papa and he was Mama to Sealand. Sealand used to go over to play with Wy and Latvia because Sweden and Finland would need some 'alone time' with just each other, now Sealand went over to Wy and Latvia's house so that they could argue.

Finland was crying and had a cup of coffee, which was barely touched, in front of him. Sweden just sat, stony, and glared at the little blonde who he used to treasure. It seemed like forever ago when Finland was little Finny, Mama, and he was Su-San. Now whenever Finland HAD to talk to Sweden, which was normally just mumbles and breathy whispers, he called him Sweden. Not Berwald. Not Sve. Not Su-San. Just Sweden.

"W't do ya wanna do?" Sweden said reluctantly, not knowing what to do.

"I don't fucking know. I can't live like this anymore. I'm done with you!" Finland growled, his blue/violet eyes narrowed and glaring at Sweden.

"I kn'w w't I wn't," Sweden grumbled, adjusting his glasses.

"What? What do you want, Sweden?" Finland said, avoiding Sweden's glance and looking over into the living room which was strewn about from their last fight.

"I w'nt a div'ce." Sweden said, the words almost getting caught in his throat. "W're both 'ver 'ch other, s'its time t' m've on, I g'ss."

Finland felt a lump rising in his throat again. He thought maybe Sweden would just propose living in different houses for a while or going to a counselor, not divorce. It seemed like a dream. 'Why won't you wake up, Finland?' he thought, tears coming down his cheeks again.

"W-w-who get-ts P-p-peder?" Finland was sobbing now, wising it was like the old days when Sweden would come over and hug him close and Finland would tell him all his worries.

"I g't Peder." Sweden muttered, giving Finland a satisfactory glance. Finland began to bawl once more.

"P-please Sweden, p-lease can't we just sh-share Peder?" Finland didn't like his husband anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't love his son. Without Peder, Finland was lost.

"Peder's m'ne." Sweden stated more harshly this time, banging his fist on the table softly before getting up and going to the room that at one time was both of theirs and slamming the door. Finland just sat downstairs at the table and sobbed, finally falling asleep.

~~~~A MONTH LATER~~~~~~~~

Finland was packing up one of the last boxes before he moved out of the house. Sweden and him had both reluctantly agreed that Sweden would have the house and Finland would go live with Norway for a little bit, since it would probably be best. Sealand, upon hearing the news of his parent's divorce, ran out of the room and cried. He had been at Latvia's house along with Estonia and a Shaq blow up doll? He said he was never going back until he was an adult, and even then he wasn't sure he was coming back.

Sweden walked into the same room and picked up a few books off the bookshelf, accidentally bumping into Finland, who was carrying a large stack of books. One of the books dropped and lay open on the floor.

"Hey, what's the bright ide-" Finland paused, seeing exactly what book it was and what page it was open to. He and Sweden both examined it and bent over to pick it up at the same time.

It was a photo album that the two had gotten from the other Nordics as an anniversary gift one year, for their first anniversary. The page it was open to was one where the two were just friends and were laying on the same couch that was downstairs in Sweden's living room.

"That's mine!" they both said at the same time, although Sweden's accent made his variation a little different.

"No, 'tis m'ne since I pro'ps'd." Sweden said, grabbing the right side of the album and tugging it since Finland was holding the left side.

"No, it's mine because I said yes," Finland said, grabbing the album and tugging it a little too hard so that it ripped in half nearly. Finland started crying and was yelling at Sweden again.

"L'k wh't ye'v gone an' done!" Sweden yelled, pointing to the nearly severed book on the floor. "Ye'v r'ped it!"

"No, it was YOU who ripped it!" Finland cried, grabbing the two parts to his chest and hugging them there. "If it weren't for you, then this never would have happened!"

"Yer rig't 'bout th't," Sweden said, "'F 't weren't f'r me, th's story ne'er woul've t'ken pl'ce."

"Whaddya mean?" Finland dried his tears and looked up at Sweden. His expression had softened and he looked near tears as well. Then Finland realized what Sweden meant. If it weren't for Sweden, the photo album wouldn't exist, Finland would have always been all alone.

Sweden sighed before saying softly, "W'll, 't leas' I wasn' alone 'or life. 'T least I had ya f'r a bi', eve' tho' I didn' have ya forever."

Finland cried at what Sweden was saying. He felt like saying the same thing to Sweden, since nobody else really ever would have loved Finland for Finland, not some made up persona.

"Sve," Finland said, liking how it felt to say Sweden's nickname again, "Can I ask you a question? Just one thing?"

"Ja, why n't?" Sweden sighed, his heart aching in his chest. His eyes caught a picture of him sitting on the couch while Finland was kissing his cheek, blushing slightly as he realized Denmark was taking a picture. He missed those days, but there was no going back. Or was there?

"C-can I hug you? One last time?" Finland said, looking at Sweden sitting on the floor a mere few feet from him. He was so close, yet they had moved apart so far. What had set them apart? They were clearly meant for each other.

Sweden didn't even respond as he pulled Finland close to him and embraced him tightly.

"Th'nks 'or all the advent'res." Sweden said sadly, and Finland heard a small intake of breath. Was, was Sweden crying? No, it couldn't be. Sweden never cried.

"No problem," Finland cried into the strong chest he had grown to know so well. "I love you Sweden."

"I l've ya too Finland," Sweden cried, hugging Finland even closer. "I jus' wn' 't t' be like th' ol' d'ys,"

"Same here. Maybe we can't go back, but we can always try to go forward," Finland said, looking up at Sweden's face. Sweden cupped Finland's face in his own, nearly forgetting how soft and warm it felt.

"Ya know wh't, Finland?" Sweden said, looking into Finland's deep violet/blue eyes.

"What?"

"I don' even wan' t' ge' divorced anymor'."

"Me neither. Let's try again and be better,"

"Okej."

"Sweden?"

"Ja?"

"Even though I won't always like you, I will always love you."

Sweden just sat there and looked into Finland's face. "Ja, same here."

The two sat like that for hours before going through the photo album and realizing all they were about to throw away and decided to stay together. For the better or for worse, in good times and in bad, they had promised to stay together. And that's what they were going to do.