I don't own Hetalia! end/AN/
Iceland toddled around the room, eagerly biting the sofa. Sweden watched him as Finland received the bag full of Iceland's things from Norway.
"That's it. That's all you'll need," Norway said, eyeing Iceland with just a slight glint of nervousness. Sweden knew he'd been caring for the tot since he'd first found him; it probably didn't sit right with him to leave him with anyone else.
"Okay! Don't worry, everything's going to be fine! You'll be back before you know it," Finland said warmly, taking Norway's hand and patting it. The other nation didn't pull his hand away, instead only dropping it once Finland had let it go.
"I know," he said, and the average observer would assume he was all right with all of this, or practically didn't care at all, but Sweden could tell he was nervous- or at least as nervous as Norway ever got.
Finland gave him a big hug. "Denmark won't keep you long, I'm sure. He knows you miss home dearly."
Why the babysitting? Denmark was going on a trip. Ordinarily, he'd go alone, but this time he'd wheedled his way into getting Norway to go with him. And obviously, a little tot like Iceland couldn't come.
Sweden patted him on the shoulder empathetically. He wanted to say he understood that an attachment like one to a child was hard to break, even temporarily, but instead he just mumbled, "See ya soon."
Norway nodded, and left. He'd already kissed and hugged Iceland goodbye, and he figured it was best the child didn't see him leaving; he could imagine the temper tantrum.
And, for a good five minutes, Iceland didn't seem to notice Norway was gone, as he desperately tried to heave himself up on the sofa. It seemed his lower half was much too heavy for him, though, because he kept sliding back down, angrily hitting the couch with his fist and telling it exactly what he thought of it in garbled baby talk.
It was only when Sweden came over and pulled him up by the seat of his pants that he looked around wildly. "Nor? Nor?"
His purple eyes widened, which hadn't seemed possible before, and he looked up at Sweden. Sweden gave him a small smile, trying to soften the blow. "It's all r-"
Iceland screamed, throwing himself off of the sofa and wobbling towards the door. He slammed against it, getting up on his tippy toes and reaching for the doorknob. His face was rapidly turning red, as he screamed and cried for Norway.
Finland was covering his ears, saying, "Ice? Ice, it's us; you know Sweden and me. We're friends, remember?"
Iceland gave a particularly passionate grab at the doorknob, but it was no use; his hands were much too small to get a good grip around it. He stomped his little feet, screaming louder.
Finland looked at Sweden helplessly, as though he was at his wits' end.
Sweden wasn't always good with people; he tended to scare them, in fact. But little kids? He loved them.
He squatted at Iceland's level, murmuring out, "What's wrong?"
Iceland screamed, slamming his hands against the door and letting out a sob like he'd had his whole world taken away from him.
Sweden nodded, saying, "He'll be back."
Iceland shrieked out baby talk, as if in actual conversation with Sweden. He seemed to be focusing on Sweden now, and a bit less on the door.
"I know. It's all right." Sweden stayed crouched in front of him, then reached out a hand hesitantly.
Iceland seemed to have calmed just a bit, but he was still telling Sweden off. He seemed to be very vehemently decrying the state of the door being closed and Norway being beyond it.
"I have a cookie," Sweden said simply, holding out the treat. It was a butter cookie that Finland had baked that morning.
Iceland's eyes focused on the cookie, and he seemed to lose all train of thought in his babbling. He tottered forward, reaching for it. Sweden caught him up, gently and carefully, so as not to startle him, and handed him the cookie.
"Good boy," he murmured, as Iceland busily shoved the cookie in his mouth. Sweden smiled just a bit, petting back his hair.
Finland shook his head. "Well, you got him not screaming; I guess you're kind of good with little kids and animals, huh?"
Sweden looked over at him, and was about to reply when Finland defended, "Not that I meant no one would think you were good at it! I was just observing!"
"Kay." Sweden walked towards the living room, Iceland leaning against him like he'd been living with him all his life. Sweden wanted to say that it was easy to get along with little kids, that all you had to do was listen and take them seriously... but he didn't, as per usual.
Finland sighed. Sweden would probably always scare adults... but at least he had a soft spot for kids.
/AN/ Gah I don't know... I'd like to do a second part, where Iceland meets Hanatamago, but I'm not sure if it should be a two-shot or separate sequel.