Time To Go
[ A/N Summary: no, not even bravado could have ever saved him. It's been over two years, when Arthur finally comes to terms with that. Character death mentioned, yadda yadda. ]
Peter had died two years ago. It was the second anniversary of his death.
And though his body was long decayed, though his fort had been blasted years ago, though the iron and rust was no more and he should no longer be in any pain, Arthur knew Peter was still there. He was a little spirit, a little ghost in the corner of Arthur's eye, moving about and never quite all the way there.
..-but then again, Peter was never quite all the way there anyway. Always stuck in between, between being Nation and human, in between loving his people and cursing them for leaving him to rot, again, because being abandoned once was already too much for the lad. He hadn't lasted much longer after the Bates pulled out of Sealand, for good, even with Arthur trying to nurse his (mortal, so mortal) body.
But Peter hadn't let go of his home yet, hadn't moved on to Heaven. Arthur knew that the little micronation, full of steel and bravado, always had a streak of stubborn in him, (a streak of stubborn that he probably got from Arthur himself,) but he had never expected Peter to stay for this long.
It had been more then two years.
Arthur knew that spirits of children more often then not lingered, but he had never seen a spirit linger for this long. It might be because Peter had attachments to Earth, but…Arthur knew that, since none of the nations really aged or changed, Peter wouldn't be so easy to leave and let go.
For a while, he thought maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was good that Peter wasn't leaving, maybe it was okay for the boy to dance and sing and stay as a little ghost, going wherever he pleased.
But he knew how wrong that was. He knew that Peter deserved a place on the Other Side, and he feared that if the child continued to cling to the earth, perhaps his place would be lost.
Two years, four months and thirteen days. It was enough, it was too long.
Arthur hadn't spoken to the boy's spirit. He felt that if he spoke to Peter, it would make the child have more reason to stay. But it was obvious that gently nudging wasn't going to allow Peter's spirit eternal rest.
So as he was putting away the dishes one day, absent mindedly, he hummed a bit and called out.
"Peter? Are you there?"
At once, he felt Peter's spirit behind him, tip toeing quietly, not sure what to say. Arthur lowered his head and focused on the plate in his hands.
"Can you please get me the dishtowel? After that, you may go outside to play. Make sure to look both ways before you cross the street—and make sure to say hello to Peter at the gates for me. You'll wait for me to come find you there, won't you? Me and everyone else. It's no good to stay here, Peter, not when you're long gone."
Arthur finally looked up, looked at the little boy with mussed hair and wide blue eyes, in nothing but a white gown. And he smiled, though his heart was breaking.
"—Peter. Please," he added softly. "It's time for you to go."
