December 1, 1939, Stockholm, Sweden

Berwald Oxenstierna wiped his jaw with his towel after shaving his face. He glanced in the mirror at himself. He looked so much older than his seventeen years, but from what his mother said, that tended to run in the family. His father looked much older at a young age as well. He sighed and hung up the towel before walking out of the bathroom.

Berwald rolled his eyes as he could hear his cousin Mathias's loud laugh coming from his room at the end of the hall. He sighed and went to his room, yet the moment his door closed, he heard his mother's horrified scream echo down the hallway.

Mathias had beat him to the living room and was hugging Sigrid Oxenstierna, Berwald's mother, as she cried into his hands in her rocking chair in front of the fireplace. "What's wrong, Aunt Sigrid?" he asked her, voice soft. Berwald almost wanted to scoff at Mathias's tone. Mathias only used a soft voice when talking to Sigrid, claiming that since he was twenty-one, Sigrid was the only person who deserved his full respect.

"Mom?" Berwald softly asked, kneeling in front of the crying woman. He slowly reached his hands up and grabbed hers. His hands were big enough to hold both of hers in one and wipe her tears with the other. "What happened?"

Sigrid looked up at Berwald. "Oh, Ber, Mat," she softly said, hiccuping as she struggled to compose herself. "I'm sorry you boys have to see me like this," she muttered to herself. "It's just horrible."

"What's going on, Aunt Sigrid?" Mathias asked, pulling away. He moved behind the rocking chair to massage her shoulders, seeing that Berwald had her calmed down.

"Those damn Russians bombed Helsinki last night," Sigrid tearfully replied before she started sobbing once more, wrenching her hands from Berwald's grasp to hide her face once more. "So many families destroyed, boys…"

Berwald swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of the people who were dead, dying, or had lost someone dear to them. He didn't want to think about it, but his mind wouldn't shut off or distract. All he could imagine was children crying, women crying, people dying left and right. It was horrifying. Sure, he had never seen anything like that first-hand, but he had read enough novels to have vicariously experienced the pain of things like that.

"Refugees are being brought over from Finland within the next few days," Sigrid continued. "I know you're not very social or talkative, Berwald, but would you mind sharing your room if there is a boy your age."

"Of course," Berwald softly said, nodding.

Sigrid looked up at Mathias. "Now, Mat, I don't expect you to share your room, but I at least expect you to be kind. You, of all people, should understand how hard this is."

Mathias grimly nodded, face blank and lacking its usual smile. Berwald figured he was thinking of the situation that landed him living with them, which made even him want to frown, yet he knew he had to stay strong for his mother.

"How did I get blessed enough to raise the two most wonderful boys?" Sigrid asked herself. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Berwald's forehead and then leaned back and tilted her head up to kiss Mathias's cheek, the older boy meeting her halfway.

"Just means you did well, Aunt Sigrid," Mathias answered before kissing her cheek in return. He continued rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. "Berry and I will do our best to help you out."

Berwald scowled up at his cousin, yet he didn't correct him for Sigrid's sake, knowing she didn't like it when the two argued. He went back to his neutral expression, which looked a bit like a scowl itself, but Sigrid knew better.

Sigrid sighed and patted the top of Berwald's head. "What would I do without you two?" she asked aloud to no one in particular. "Ever since Ber's father died, it just hasn't been the same. I'm so glad I have you boys to keep me on my toes."

Berwald swallowed hard at the mention of his father's death. Though it had been over ten years, it still hurt as if it had only happened the day before. Yet he felt his pain of losing his father couldn't even compare to Mathias's pain of losing both of his parents at once, and not even being able to say goodbye, not even knowing it was going to happen.

.

A few days later, there was a knock at the door. Sigrid had informed Berwald and Mathias that a Swedish-speaking Finnish refugee would be moving in with them, sharing a room with Berwald. She informed them that he was sixteen, and the only survivor out of his entire neighborhood in Helsinki, traumatised to the point where he had forgotten how to speak, yet he could still understand Swedish and write in it.

Berwald was the one who answered the door. He saw a military official standing there with a short, timid-looking boy.

The boy had large, violet eyes that were nearly hidden beneath his shaggy, blond bangs. He was nearly trembling as he timidly looked at his shoes. His clothes had slight burns on them, which Berwald suspected were from the bomb blasts. The boy wasn't muscular like Berwald and Mathias, by any means. He actually looked like he had a few extra pounds, yet the body type suited him.

"Is Sigrid Oxenstierna home?" the military official asked, looking at a clipboard before looking up at Berwald.

Sigrid appeared behind her son. "That would be me," she answered, moving past him. A look of sympathy crossed her face when she looked at the boy, but only for a brief moment.

The military official nodded to the boy. "Mrs. Oxenstierna, this is Tino Väinämöinen," he explained. "He is the boy we were telling you about. The doctors still have not had a chance to see him yet, but he has an appointment set for next week, on the tenth."

Sigrid nodded. "I understand. Thank you for bringing him." She and Tino were about the same height as she extended her hand to him. "I am very pleased to meet you, Tino," she softly said, "though I wish it were on better circumstances. My name is Sigrid Oxenstierna, and I will take care of you."

Tino lifted his head to look at her, his large, violet eyes sparkling with tears. He nodded, biting his lip. His hands gestured to his neck and then up toward his lips before his two index fingers formed an "X" over his lips, to express the fact that he couldn't speak.

"I know," Sigrid softly told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No one will expect you to speak here. My son barely talks anyway. I hope you will feel comfortable here."

Tino attempted a weak smile, yet he couldn't hold it for long. His eyes once more returned to his shoes.

Berwald felt bad for him. He wondered what it must be like to have everything be just fine one moment, and then be the only survivor of a bomb blast in your neighborhood the next. He couldn't even imagine it. His instincts told him to comfort his new roommate, yet his body told him not to.

Sigrid ushered Tino into the house and had him sit on a sofa in the living room as she completed the necessary paperwork with the official. She told Berwald to sit in there and keep him company, though Berwald had no idea what to do since he was probably just as talkative as Tino at the moment.

The two teenagers sat there in silence for a few minutes. Tino sat on the sofa and stared at his hands, which were folded in his lap. Berwald sat in an armchair as his fingers itched for the book on the coffee table. He knew Sigrid would let him have it if she came back in and he was reading and ignoring Tino instead of at least sitting with the poor boy.

To Berwald's surprise, Tino picked up the book on the coffee table and inspected the title. It was a collection of Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales that Berwald's father had gotten him when he was younger. It was Berwald's favorite book to read because it reminded him that, yes, there was magic in the world, but that everything still has a price. At least that was what The Little Mermaid had taught him.

Tino looked up at Berwald after inspecting the book. He pointed at it curiously as if to ask if it was his. Berwald nodded to confirm and Tino smiled, pressing the book to his chest fondly to show that he also enjoyed the stories.

"The Little Mermaid is my favorite," Berwald said, the Finnish boy flinching at the sound of his voice. Berwald didn't take into consideration that his voice was deep and gruff and would probably scare someone if they weren't expecting it. "Sorry," he softly said. "I didn't mean to surprise you."

Tino shook his head quickly, wide-eyed as he frantically searched the room. His hands reached desperately for the notepad Sigrid wrote her grocery lists on as his eyes looked for a pencil. Once he had acquired both, he quickly scrawled something down in neat Swedish and turned the pad to Berwald. It wasn't you. Just about any sudden noise terrifies me at this point in time. The Little Mermaid is my favorite as well. Thank you for talking to me, but don't feel like you absolutely have to.

Berwald frowned as he watched the boy bite his lip, looking at the book of fairy tales on the coffee table. He was sad that Tino felt like such a bother to all of them and wanted to assure him that he wasn't, yet Tino would probably insist that Berwald was just saying that. Though talking did put a strain on him sometimes, he didn't want Tino to feel alone.

"You can read it," Berwald quietly said, nodding to the book. "I don't mind. If you enjoy the stories as well, then I would be glad to share it." The book personally made him happy because he remembered his father telling him those stories before he was able to read. He wondered if Tino had an experience like that with his own father or mother, so maybe reading the stories could help him as well.

Tino began to write once more and then turned the pad to Berwald again. My parents once read these stories to me when I was a child. I know it may sound silly, but maybe reading these again now that I'm older will help me cope better.

So he had been right. "That's why I read them," Berwald answered with a shrug. "No one will judge you for reading them here, Tino. And if they do, tell me, and I'll set them straight."

Tino smiled gratefully as Sigrid walked into the room alone and sat next to him on the couch. He quickly tore his piece of paper from the pad and crumpled it up, slipping it in his pocket, as if keeping their conversation a secret.

"Berwald, thank you for keeping Tino company during all of this," Sigrid said, smiling at her son. "Tino, I'm sure you must be exhausted, so I'll show you to the room you'll be sharing with Berwald. He is very kind, and he's only a year older than you." She then noticed the fairy tale book that Tino was clutching tightly to his chest. "I see you found Berwald's fairy tale book. It's his favorite."

"Don't worry, I'm letting him read it," Berwald said. "He already has my permission."

Sigrid smiled, nodding. "I'm glad to see that you two already have something to bond over. That makes me happy." She sighed, looking down toward the end of the hall where a Danish flag hung on the bedroom door on the very end. "Mathias didn't want to come out of his room and meet anyone today, so I hope you're not offended, Tino. It's nothing against you, and I'm sure he'll like you when he does meet you."

Berwald nodded. "My cousin was in a situation similar to yours when he came to live with us ten years ago," he explained for his mother, knowing it would be hard for her to explain without seeming insensitive.

Tino frowned and nodded to show he understood.

"Please don't take it personally, but he will come meet you when he's ready," Sigrid told Tino. "Until then, you'll have me and Ber. I hope you'll be able to adjust here. I know it's not much, but it's what we call home."

Tino attempted a smile for her and nodded his appreciation to her, which caused Sigrid to smile and made Berwald happy inside. Even if it was a forced smile, it showed that he was at least trying to show he was grateful, which was enough to express hope for the situation.

Sigrid stood and offered Tino her hand. "Here, let's get you settled in Berwald's room, dear." Tino hesitantly took her hand and she led him from the room and to Berwald's, from which she could be heard fussing over the boy and trying her best to make him feel at home and trying to find him clothes to wear.

"Alter some of my clothes if you need to," Berwald called to her. "I have plenty. It doesn't matter which. Let him choose if he'd like to. I don't have any favorites."

After about half an hour, Sigrid came out with a small pile of clothes and a needle and thread. "The poor dear is exhausted. He fell asleep halfway through The Little Mermaid."

"Were you reading it to him?" Berwald asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Sigrid answered. "I offered to read it to him after he picked out some clothes of yours." She stood up and placed a kiss on her son's cheek. "And thank you so much for offering. You are the sweetest boy in all of existence, you know that?"

"I'm only being a decent human being," Berwald answered, reading the newspaper. It was all about the bombings in Helsinki, and he was starting to get annoyed with it. Wasn't there anything else to talk about? "Tino deserves as much happiness and fortune as I do, right?"

"Well said," Sigrid stated, threading her needle. She sighed as she began to roll up the sleeves of Berwald's old shirts that now belonged to Tino. "These are getting some major alterations. That's for sure. He's so much smaller than you length-wise."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Berwald said. He noticed the dark circles under his mother's eyes and frowned. "You don't look very good, Mother. Would you like coffee?"

"That would be wonderful, Ber," she said, smiling tiredly. It was now that Berwald could tell she hadn't slept since the bombings in Helsinki. It made him worry.

"Please get some rest tonight, Mother," he said. "You will need to start getting proper rest to help with Tino."

"I suppose you're right, Ber," she sighed, setting the shirt down in her lap after pinning it in the places where it needed to be hemmed into place. She sighed. "No surprise there. You take after him, you know. Your father was always right about everything as well, so why wouldn't you be, too?" She smiled fondly at Berwald. "I'm glad you're like him."

Berwald smiled. "I'll go make the coffee, Mother." He went down the hall and gently knocked on Mathias's door.

"Who is it?" Mathias asked.

"It's Berwald," he stated. "Do you want coffee while I'm making it?"

The door opened a crack as one of Mathias's ice blue eyes peered back at him. "Where is the kid?"

"He's passed out in my room," Berwald answered, confused.

"Just bring me a mug, Ber," Mathias sighed before closing the door.

Berwald could detect the tones of stress in his cousin's voice and didn't press the matter any further. Instead, he just let Mathias be rude and went to the kitchen to make the coffee.

It seemed as if the smell of coffee woke Tino up as he trudged into the kitchen about twenty minutes later, half-asleep. He was rubbing one of his eyes as the other violet eye was half open as he seemed to try to make sense of what was going on around him.

"Want coffee?" Berwald asked, pouring the mugs of coffee. "I could pour you some."

Tino blinked a couple times at Berwald as if he didn't notice he was there and then nodded.

"Okay, hold on a moment," he said. "I have to take a mug to my mother and one to Mat. I'll get yours in a moment." He headed to the living room and set Sigrid's in front of her before going and taking Mathias's to him.

Tino had already gotten his coffee by the time Berwald had gotten back, but he hadn't left the kitchen. He was leaning against the countertop and sipping at his coffee, so engrossed in it that Berwald decided to make his footfalls a little louder than normal so Tino would know he was there, which worked. Tino's head snapped up and a small smile made its way to his lips as he gestured to the coffee and nodded to show that he liked it.

"Thank you," Berwald said. "I already add the special stuff as I make it."

Tino nodded as if considering it a good idea. He looked into his coffee mug and smiled.

Sigrid walked in. "Berwald, is there more of the coffee?" She noticed Tino. "I thought you were asleep. How was your nap, Tino? Did you sleep?" Tino yawned a little. "I understand that. Maybe you should try to take another nap in a little bit. Did Berwald wake you up? Was he too loud?" The young Finnish boy pointed to the coffee pot. "Oh, the smell of coffee woke you up? You like coffee?" Tino nodded. "Well there is plenty of it here, so help yourself, dear. Only Mat and I drink it here. Berwald is the one who makes it, though."

Berwald looked away, embarrassed. "It's not like it's that special that I make coffee, Mother," he sighed. "All I do is make coffee."

"But you make it for people other than you, Ber," Sigrid said, standing on her tip toes and kissing his cheek. "Thinking of others first is what makes it special."

"If you say so," Berwald sighed. Tino looked up at him, confused, but he didn't really try to acknowledge anything or take any sides on it. "Now, do either of you want any more coffee?"

Sigrid smiled and handed her empty mug over to Berwald. "Yes, please," she said. "Tino, would you like any more coffee?" Tino eagerly nodded. "Two, please," she said, taking Tino's empty cup and handing it to Berwald, who filled both and handed them back. "I'm glad you're starting to get adjusted, dear."

Berwald smiled to Tino, and he hoped it looked genuine. He hoped it wouldn't scare him away or make him nervous, like it did with most people. All he wanted was to reassure Tino.

Tino smiled back, and that was enough to tell Berwald that he understood. Maybe the situation wouldn't be so bad after all.

.

The next couple days breezed by. Tino would sit with Berwald for a lot of the days, reading or drawing, though he didn't really let Berwald see what he was drawing, which didn't bother Berwald much. And when he was reading, he liked it best when Berwald read aloud to him. He had grown used to Berwald's voice and found it comforting to hear the fairy tales read aloud to him as he laid down on his cot in their room, which Berwald didn't mind at all.

Mathias still hadn't come out of hiding yet to meet Tino, which Berwald didn't really like all that much. He understood that Mathias had some issues, but how much time did he need. He could tell that Tino was uncomfortable with the fact that they hadn't been introduced yet, and it wasn't fair that they hadn't, in Berwald's opinion. It made Tino uncomfortable to live with a stranger, especially one who barely left his room other than to bathe and use the restroom. Berwald couldn't blame him. It's hard to trust someone like that.

Yet things like that were beyond Berwald's control. He knew that. He just hoped Mathias would be comfortable soon. Tino really needed security more than anything. And if Mathias was as mature and "grown up" as he claimed to be, then he should understand that, but maybe even adults still needed time to grow up as well.