Peter seemed to grow up all too quick to Berwald. After eight years, he was quite sure that his ten-year-old adopted son would soon be in his teens then his twenties then in his thirties and if Berwald was lucky he wouldn't have been shot by then.
Arthur, on the other hand, was slower to grow but quicker to insist that he was an adult in almost every sense of the word (those implications were quickly resolved).
At least Arthur didn't attempt daily to drag him every which way when he was really exhausted and could use more sleep than he got. But he really loved how Peter lighted up at his face rather than shrinking away like so many people, and he loved his son's cheerfulness and he pretty much just loved his son (both of them) so he went along.
"So I heard Adam talking and he said that there was some trouble but in the end they got the money they needed! That's good, right?"
He feared for the day when Peter really understood what their life was like.
Tino had said that it would be best to shield him from the worst of it until he was older, but Peter already carried a gun around with him and could shoot it, too (if not inaccurately, but he could shoot it). Berwald, lately, had been thinking maybe it would have been easier to show him some of this from the start. Neither he nor his wife had any delusions about hiding it entirely, but to let him play child-criminal was really cruel, now. Much more cruel than his own father had been.
"Papa-Berwald?" Peter was staring up at him, grinning. "So am I really gonna be the boss of all those super-strong guys one day?"
"Mmm-hmm. Best of 'em all." Peter laughed joyfully, skipping along and trying to drag his too big Papa with him.
It broke his heart.
"Berwald," Arthur's voice sounded behind them, irritable but reserved as ever. He never could get Arthur to open up to him, even though Arthur had entrusted him with his little brother. "There are some… negotiation problems. Tino says they want you to sort everything out."
"Can I come, Papa-Berwald?" Peter asked excitedly.
"You stay here," Arthur ordered immediately.
"Don't tell me what to do, jerk!"
"Stop." The Kirkland brothers snapped to attention. "Arthur, come with me. Peter, I'll drop you off on the way."
"Fine…" Peter pouted, but there were no other protests as they made the walk home.
Peter was bored bored bored. Papa-Berwald always had to go off on "negotiations" and other stupid things like that, and when he came home he always smelled a little like iron and a scent he knew from somewhere but couldn't quite place. And stupid Jerk-Arthur never told him what Papa-Berwald did during those negotiations, but Peter had always figured it had to do with that white powder and those plants they always seemed to selling to other people who also had negotiations to make.
He heard the soft melody of a piano in a nearby room, and he perked up. Uncle-but-not-really-Roderich was here! Uncle-but-not-really-Roderich was this super-smart piano guy (Peter also saw him play violin a couple times) who Papa-Berwald argued with sometimes but maybe it was okay since Jerk-Arthur said not to trust him ("He'll try to steal what you've got to get back what his idiocy lost," said Jerk-Arthur), but Uncle-but-not-really-Roderich was always nice in that cool, calm kind of way. Like Papa-Berwald!
"Roderich, are you here?" He called out, running at top speed to the room where the older man was playing the piano. He stopped at the sound of Peter.
"Peter," he greeted with a slight smile. He only ever had a slight smile, at least that Peter could remember, "Is there something I can help you with?"
"What'cha doing?"
"Practicing a new piece for a small concert in a few weeks. And yourself?"
Peter slumped. "Nothing. Papa-Berwald's off doing more of those negotiation-things and I didn't get to go."
"A shame." So he did understand! "But your father is a businessman like any other, and I'm sure you wouldn't be interested in what they say, anyway." No, wait, no he didn't.
"But Papa-Berwald said one day I'm gonna be the leader and I can't do that if I don't learn!" he protested.
Roderich had that small smile. "Well, why not try a negotiation yourself?"
"But Papa-Berwald said—"
"Not with him. A separate one, something small." Uncle-but-not-really-Roderich nodded. "Why not try at, say, this very interesting little antique store near the market."
"Really?" Peter brightened. "You think it would work?"
"It might." Uncle-but-not-really-Roderich turned back to the piano, staring at the keys for a really long minute. "You remind me of a boy I once knew, you know."
"Really, what was he like?" the child asked, excited for a story from his really cool uncle-but-not-really.
"He was an artist and gourmet, someone of culture. A very loving and big-hearted person, although he was dense." Peter wondered how someone dense could be reminiscent of him, but maybe it was because this person was super nice and special, like him! "And maybe around your age when I last saw him."
He winced. "What happened to him?"
A pause. "Another story for another day, Peter." Roderich shook his head smiled his little smile again. "Now, you'll see the antique store I told you about soon enough, don't worry."
"Thanks, Roderich!" Julie should come, too! She would love something like this!
He found Julie at her house, where Mama-Tino and Adam were talking about something he didn't know about. Julie was working on some new drawing. "Julie, Julie, Julie!" Peter said excitedly, watching with maybe some amusement as she jumped out of her concentration. "I wanna show you something at the," He definitely shouldn't say the negotiation store, 'cause Mama-Tino would probably say no, "the toy store! C'mon!"
"What could possibly be interesting at a toy store?" she asked in return, raising an eyebrow. There was an implied "how old are you?", even though she was younger than him.
"It's a surprise! C'mon!"
"I'm working on my art project." She watched him suspiciously, trying to figure out his motive.
"Please, it's really cool! Please please please?" They had a staredown of epic proportions, golden-brown versus bright baby blue, before she looked away and sighed.
"Fine, but only because now I'm curious." She put down her pencil and jumped out of her seat. "Adam, I'm going to the toy store with Peter."
"Sorry, Jules, I don't think I quite heard you correctly." Adam grinned at her, but it was clear what he was saying.
She rolled her eyes. "Adam, dear brother, may I please go to the toy store with Peter?" she asked with a mocking sugary-sweetness and an accompanying frown.
"Well, since you asked so nicely."
"Wait." Mama-Tino stopped them, his voice both stern and affectionate. "Take Arthur with you, I don't want you getting hurt."
"That jerk?" Both asked, incredulous. But Mama-Tino's word was final, and soon Arthur was accompanying them on their mission. Well, not for long.
"Do you really have to come with us, Arthur-jerk?" Peter asked as they walked down a lonely alley that would eventually lead to the marketplace.
"Pretty much. I don't really want to go to some toy store, but Tino and Berwald said I have to go, so here I am." Arthur couldn't have sounded more apathetic.
"But we can take care of ourselves." Peter argued.
"Can you." It wasn't a question in any sense of the word.
"Can you?" Julie asked. "How good are you at protecting people?" She had that annoying habit of always unknowingly saying things that really, really hurt him. He, quite frankly, did not like her for it.
"Better than you'll ever be." They shot him the same doubtful look that said "I want to be able to protect myself," and he returned it with a similarly doubtful look that said "well, you can't quite yet, so quit complaining."
"Wrong!" Peter grinned. "Papa-Berwald says I'll be the best of the best one day!"
"Today isn't that day."
"I'll even be better that you, everyone, one day! Then you won't tell me what to do ever!" To show off his amazing power, he whipped out the gun Berwald gave him and pointed it at a nearby trashcan.
"Work on your aim until then." He quickly adjusted his little brother's aim so that it would actually hit the trashcan if he tried to shoot it. Which he wouldn't—he only had so many bullets. "And I hardly tell you what to do as it is." More like Arthur gives guidance that Peter interprets as bossiness. He's a brat.
"Peter, do this!" Julie said, deadpan, likely thinking back to a certain incident two days ago. "Peter, stay away from there! Peter, leave me alone, I'm working!" That last one was a bit more hurtful than it could have been. Suppressing any sort of flinching, he simply glared at the little girl.
"I'll be free to go where I want, do as I please!" Peter continued bragging, his gun again safely away.
"Maybe we should talk about the image of your future," Arthur said seriously.
"Like I need your help knowing about my future. Right, Jules?"
"Yeah, you'll be the king." If Peter caught on to her sarcasm, he didn't show it. Arthur rolled his eyes. He'd leave the whole gang if Peter began calling himself king.
"Exactly, glad you get it!" He grins at her. Arthur wondered if he himself had ever given someone that same smile.
Probably not.
"I was… nevermind." She didn't bother telling him and just shook her head. He could see how their relationship played out now and would play out later. And he couldn't be less excited for it. Alone, they were annoying. Together, they would be a dangerous couple of brats. Maybe it would be nice, but he was doubtful.
Peter and Julie led him through a number of huge crowds, many of which were overflowing parking lots or the odd little marketplace that took maneuvering through various wooden stands, and it didn't take long for Arthur to catch onto the idea that they were trying to lose him and go off on their own somewhere else. So he let them think they did, and followed silently behind.
Until he realized where they were going.