Chapter One

Berwald had never been really happy, and when he was honest with himself, he knew it was true.

He grew up with parents that basically ignored him unless he got into a fight with someone. Sometimes, in his teen years, he'd pick fights with people just to get someone to acknowledge he existed. Even then, if his older brother picked a fight, it was always bigger and badder and always outshone him.

He wasn't friendly at school, and had a repetition of fighting whoever he could. He had one friend, a Norwegian girl by the name of Luka. She was sarcastic and a little cold, but that suited him just fine. But, before he knew it, Luka was swept up in the arms of his brother, Mathias.

He was angry about it, naturally. He did somewhat like her, but it was nothing serious. However, the fact that his brother stole his only friend's time burnt him bad, and he prayed for the relationship to end.

They graduated, and Mathias still had Luka on his arm, and it was driving Berwald insane. He felt like the third wheel, all the time.

He couldn't really afford to buy a house, so he moved up north and bought a large piece of land. He built his own home, which took almost a year, and it was still very cabin like. However, when he moved out of his parents' house and in to his own home, he couldn't be more relieved. He may have been alone, but at least he wasn't the constant third wheel and the unwanted second son.

He went to work making wood furniture for one of the local places, and that was one of his few income sources. He also was busy trying to teach himself to hunt. He did an awful job of actually hitting anything, but he figured he'd improve with practice. He fished and bought books on how to prepare it. He barely made it by, but he managed.

He occasionally got mail from his brother and Luka. They had a son in no time, and they prompted him to come visit. He'd write back, and say that he would maybe. He didn't really see the point, he would just be the third wheel again, and he had never met their son before. All he knew was that his name was Peter, and he had a few pictures from right after he was born.

That was, until that one horrible day.

It started innocently enough, he woke and did his work, only to be stopped by a knock at the door. When he opened it, it revealed his parents and bad news. Both Mathias and Luka had been hit by an incoming truck, and died instantly. If this wasn't bad enough, the boy wasn't killed with them.

He knew that thought was cruel, seeing as he shouldn't wish for anyone to die, much less his own nephew. But, being raised without parents to love you is one of the worst feelings.

He knew, and his parents weren't even dead.

However, the next bit of news shocked him even more.

Both the house, and the boy were left to him. That was, if he would take them of course.

He had to sit down and process. He could never afford to keep their house up and running. He could barely pay his own bills. He'd have to sell it, whether he wanted to or not. But the boy…

Where else did he have to go? His grandparents? He knew his own parents wouldn't make good caretakers, and he didn't have a much higher opinion of Luka's parents. He couldn't let them take the boy. What other choices were their though? Foster care? No no… that would be just as bad.

So there was only one real option.

Later that day, he found himself with a lap filled with a confused, parentless, one year old. He stared at the child with wide, scared eyes.

The next few months were from the depths of hell. First there was the funeral, and then there was moving all of Peter's stuff to his house, and going through everything else. Soon he managed to move out everything, taking some of it, giving some of it to Luka and Mathias' friends and family, and even selling and giving away some of it. All while he took care of a one year old, all on his own.

Many of the people he came across congratulated him on being so strong and taking such good care of Peter, when he knew if they could see what happened behind closed doors, they would not think as such. There were nights he spent in full scale panic, trying to figure out what to do with the boy. He himself was barely twenty with no experience with children.

He was terrified of Peter.

But he worked through it. When the house finally sold, he had enough money to buy a car and to support he and Peter through the next five years, just barely. He slowly learned how to parent along the way, learning the games and the techniques. He taught the boy how to talk and how to walk, and he potty trained him. He took Peter to the park and played with him in the pool. He still didn't really know what he was doing, but Peter seemed open to helping him.

When Peter turned six, he started kindergarten, which was a huge relief for Berwald. He was beginning to really run out of money, so he knew what he had to do.

Not too long after Peter's first day at school was Berwald's first day at work. He managed to get a job on the floors at Ikea. He hoped and prayed he could work up to being a furniture designer or something that didn't involve constant human interaction, but it would do for now. He could only work part time, having to keep to Peter's schedule, and he would still barely getting by, but he was used to it.

He slowly got into the flow of things, and soon their life became constant. He'd get Peter ready for school, get himself ready for work, drive Peter to school, drive himself to work, work the day, pick Peter up, and come home and make dinner and they'd go to bed.

He, for once, was actually satisfied. Peter made good company and made him smile. He reminded Berwald that not everyone was horrible. And Peter loved Berwald, and looked at him as his father.

Their life was steady, in a sea of uncertainty.