Mathias felt like he'd slept forever. A long time had passed since he'd gotten a nice long rest like this. The Dane nuzzled his face into his pillow, the image of his wife in his dreams in his mind as he rested his head against, what he presumed to be, the crook of her neck. He planted a few loving kisses to his small wife's shoulder, and she hummed in delight, leaning into his touch.
".. Daddy." Eh? A voice, seemingly coming from beyond his dreams, a voice that eventually jolted the Dane out of his sleep. Mathias lifted his head up, letting out a soft groan of acknowledgement, before looking around, eyes full of sleep. He eventually found the source, tugging his little hands against his bedsheets, tears in his eyes. The tall man grew worried, had he been hurt? Shuffling hesitantly, before boy looking down at the feet of his onesie, clutching a stuffed rabbit tight to himself.
"… Eirí, baby?" he called to the boy, sitting up in his large bed. A whimper softly escaped from said boy, and he hid his face into the soft fabric of the bedsheets. Looking down, he noticed that the onesie, which was once white, was now stained between his legs with a sickly coloured yellow. Oh no… He wet the bed.
"Oh, baby, you're soaking." He cooed with a sympathetic tone, and rose from his bed, picking up the little four-year-old. Again Eiríkur said nothing, and simply hid his face into his father's shoulder, tears escaping him again.
"The big bad man is gonna…" he trailed off, filled with terror. Oh, baby… Mathias thought, thick brows knitting into a frown.
"Did you have a bad dream, sweetie?" he asked, unafraid to hold the Icelander's legs and touch the urine. Moving to his room, he heard the confirming 'Uh-huh' of his son, and he set him down, rooting through his drawers. He hadn't any more clean pyjamas, but a simple T-shirt and shorts would survive him the night right? Oh, oh, and a change of undies, too.
Gathering said clothing, he grabbed the baby wiped and tugged the onesie off his son, along with the underpants, and cleaned up his legs to make sure that they wouldn't get chaffed or blistered when he moved around. Once that was complete, he changed Eiríkur into the clothes, and picked him up, pressing a gently kiss to his head. "Do you want to sleep with daddy, tonight?" he asked with a hopeful tone. Eiríkur never really wanted to sleep in the same bed as his dad, too obsessed with his own room, but maybe he would be willing to tonight.
Eiríkur's eyes lit up significantly, and he nodded eagerly, clinging to the Dane's shirt. Mathias rewarded the Icelander a quiet chuckle, before he headed over to his own room, setting the poor boy into the warm covers, and tucked him in, before lying beside him. "Comfy?" He asked, which earned Mathias a tired nod, observing as the little boy fell asleep. Poor baby, the father thought, shaking his head. He must've had a horrible dream, he'd never wet the bed before. He'd be okay, though, when morning broke out, he'd make sure to make him a nice breakfast to brighten him up.
Mathias' eyes drooped shut, and he made himself comfy in the bed, head flopping down to dream sweet dreams once again. Ah…