The sun was going down in a mix of oranges, yellows and deep reds when Petyr pulled into his driveway, it looked like the day had given up and gone to bed much like Petyr wanted to, he'd spent the morning at The Mockingbird going over orders and basically keeping everything in working order while Tyrion played with Ros upstairs. However, when lunch had rolled around Littlefinger had taken the blonde back to his house and left him there to be growled at by Lady. Sansa had offered to make him lunch and Petyr had been desperate to take his girl up on the offer but alas Lion and Stag called so with a sorrow filled expression and a gentle kiss to her perfect lips he'd declined her inviting offer. Tywin had packed Jaime back off to Dorne and taken the CEO throne away from Petyr, much to his dismay, the Lannister patriarch thought this was a joke but all it had done was make Baelish more determined to have it. He hadn't seen Cersei in a few days and Detective Sparrow seemed to be getting nowhere on who had attacked his suspect, in the end the courts didn't seem to care and would be trying a voiceless and paralysed Kaegan Irelan in the next few weeks, with so much evidence they had a case even if Kaegan didn't have a voice. Petyr couldn't help but notice that the entire Irelan family were staying well away from the case; no one blamed them for that.

With night quickly taking over the sky Petyr slipped inside his home and came to an instant halt before he'd even shut the door behind him. He could hear Sansa's muffled cries from upstairs in her room and found Tyrion stood at the bottom of the stairs popping a painkiller with one hand while the other held his head.

"Oh thank the Gods your back!" Tyrion sounded drained as he walked towards the dark-haired man. "It's about fucking time." Petyr opened his mouth to speak but shut it again when Tyrion got there first. "Sansa has been crying for an hour and Lady won't let me anywhere near her bedroom to find out what upset her. I have a headache the size of Dorne and you're out of wine."

"If you stopped drinking so much I'd still have wine and you wouldn't have a headache."Petyr deadpanned.

"I haven't been sober since I was seventeen, this headache is a result of her sobbing for the last hour. Just make her stop." Tyrion pleaded. "Tears from teenage girls are not my department."

Petyr sighed, he wanted Tyrion gone from his home so it was just him and Sansa again but Tyrion couldn't strike too soon after Joffrey's death, that was how he'd ended up spent two months hiding out in Petyr's home. It was a waiting game. He trudged up the spiralling staircase until he had to look over the railing to make sure the Lannister had wandered off, the man with moss colored eyes made his way to the very end of the hall where Sansa'sbedroom was, it shared a wall with his own room and had a small balcony for her to sit and stare out at the ocean from. Lady was right where Tyrion said she'd be guarding the door like some kind of solider, she growled when he came into view. Though Sansa was her best friend and the one she was there to protect Lady knew he was the Master and quickly quieted when he snapped his fingers in a gesture to sit at his feet.

"Lady, sit!" The large Wolfdog obeyed him and let Petyr push the bedroom door open.

All the lights were off and so he walked over to the night stand and flicked her bedside lamp on, it illuminated the room with an artificial glow and revealed Sansa face down with her head buried in the pillows crying.

"Sweetling, what's wrong?" Petyr asked as he sat down on the edge of her bed. There was no response beyond more tears. "Baby girl, please tell me-"

Suddenly Sansa shot up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, it caught him off guard for a second but once his mind had caught up he pulled the girl into his lap and held her.

"Make him stop saying that." She begged and hiccupped against his neck.

"What has Tyrion said?"

If that bloody blonde had made his girl cry Tyrion would find his ass being handed to him.

"Not him." She cried. "Tristan!"

"He started speaking?"

The boy was eleven months old, to be honest Petyr was surprised he hadn't started to talk a while ago. Petyr turned his head to the dark couch that was pressed up against the wall beside the balcony doors, Sansa had built what could only be described as a pillow fort for Tristan to lie in, she only set him there when she was doing something; he slept with her in the bed.

Petyr gently shuffled Sansa to sit on her bed and took her arms from around his neck. He went to the boy who was playing with a toy sheep that had been in the baby bag they took from his mother, Tristan seemed happy enough as Petyr picked him up and went back to the bed.

"What did Tristan say?"

She didn't answer, just wiped tears from her cheeks, whatever it was Sansa didn't want to say it so he pushed the baby towards her hoping the child would tell him instead.

"Mama!" The boy beamed and reached for the redhead. Sansa suddenly burst into tears again.

"Oh..." Petyr didn't know what to say to that.

"Please make him stop, Master." Her face was red and wet. "Please."

As much as he enjoyed hearing the words please Master come out of her mouth, the situation had grown awkward. Petyr hadn't wanted her to grow too attached to the child and yet it seemed Tristan had been the one to grow attached, he'd chosen Sansa as his Mama. He didn't blame the boy, who would want to stay with Sansa? This had to stop though, before it grew any worse.

"That's it. He's going to a hospital. The reason we can't find the Grandmother is most likely because she's dead. He's going. Tristan is only upsetting you."

Petyr had made a decision, put his foot down. Sansa continued to sob but it was slower than before.

"I don't want him to go, Master. Don't want him to be alone." She muttered. "But you don't want him here."

The last bit was said to herself, so quietly that Petyr had to strain to hear it, but hear it he did. Baelish sighed and slipped the eleven month old into his girl's arms so he could stand up from the twilight coated bed.

"Come on and dry your eyes, Sweetling. We'll take him to the hospital and he'll get a new family, Tristan will be happy. That's what you want right?"

"Yes." The word was so small.

"Good."

With a little encouragement Petyr managed to get Sansa into the car with Tristan, she held him close and petted his dark hair, while he occupied Lady with the task of watching Tyrion; the blonde didn't look too pleased but he went wordlessly back to his book.

Sansa didn't speak a word on their drive, only sniffled with the remains of her tears that refused to leave her, Petyr didn't try to force her into conversation because he knew it would do no good and he had no idea what to say to her; it wasn't often that he was lost for words but this had certainly done it. On the one hand he was happy to remove the child from his home but on the other hand he was going to break Sansa's heart. Rain tumbled from the heavens as Baelish drove along the many streets of King's Landing towards the hospital, sheets of water crashed against the windscreen violently and so fast that Petyr could hardly see despite the wipers being on full speed; he hadn't even noticed it raining until they'd stepped out the front foor. Tristan's little fingers clung to Sansa's yellow blouse as he dozed and though he would never admit it, the Cleaner thought it looked adorable.

When the grey Aston Martin finally came to a halt Sansa and her Master just sat there for a few minutes listening to the rain and Tristan's soft breaths against her chest, but it was over all too soon.

"Alright, Sweetling." He said turning to face her, voice muffled slightly by thick rain. "Say goodbye to him." Petyr tried to keep his voice soft and understanding for her sake.

The redhead pulled the boy closer and held him tight, tears started to drip along her cheeks once more in silent protest and kissed his soft black locks. Sansa didn't want to let Tristan go but her Master had made a decision and she wouldn't interfere with his plans, it was better this way, Tristan would have a real family. She pressed a kiss to his head once more.

"Goodbye Tristan." She gave him one last squeeze and then handed him over to Petyr.

"Do you want to come with me?" He asked.

"No."

He didn't think she'd want to but Petyr had decided to ask anyway. If Tristan had been another dog or a toy he'd have let her keep him in a heartbeat but Tristan was a child, he needed a family not a manipulative brothel owner who kept an eighteen year old in his house that called him Master with every other sentence. The boy was young, he'd forget all about Sansa and Petyr in time.

Petyr stepped outside the car and into the pouring rain, he wrapped his coat around the boy to keep him dry and pulled his hood up over head to hide his face as he walked through the gargantuan parking lot towards the ER, he was three cars away before the sound of rain muffled Sansa's crying enough that he couldn't hear it. Tristan didn't make a sound as Baelish carried him, in fact he seemed to actually like it, Petyr's chest was warmer than Sansa's had been and he wasn't crying so the boy could rest easily against his strong chest. The night was inky and dark but the neon lights of the ER revealed just how busy the place was, the Cleaner guessed it was due to the car pile up that had happened about an hour previous; the entire street had been shut off and Petyr had to go all the way round to get home. Nurses rushed around going this way and that while patients sat in the waiting area and more seriously injured people rested on gurneys waiting for real beds. Orderlies moved quickly trying to get control of the chaos and make things easier on the doctors and nurses but ot had little effect.

Tristan's nails dug into Petyr's chest in fear, it was all too noisy and bright, but much toBaelish's pleasure he didn't cry or start screaming for Sansa. The boy was afraid but he would only be like that for a short time, it wouldn't take more than a few minutes for a nurse or orderly to spot him; even in this chaos. Petyr calmly walked to the nurses station to find it vacant, a nurses station never stayed empty for long. He set the boy down on the desk away form the edge so he didn't fall and hurt himself in the brief time he was unattended, it took a moment but Petyr managed to prise his shirt from Tristan's grip, I think I need a fucking crowbar!

"Bye Tristan."

He said softly and ruffled the boy's dark baby soft locks and then started to walk away. The boy was no more, Petyr was free and only had Tyrion left to deal with before he had his house to himself again, just him and Sansa. Peace and quiet would be restored.

"Dada!"