"Y-yesterday?" I was completely shaken. I had never imagined we'd forget the lube on the couch! No parent should ever have to look their child in the eyes and try to explain to them what lube was. It wasn't fair… "Uh… it's… lotion," I heard myself mutter as my face flamed and I tried to pull to from his hands.

His eyes brightened and his grubby hands clung to the bottle tighter. "My elbows have been a little ashy lately… can I borrow your lotion for a bit? Please, Mummy?"

I let out an uncomfortable laugh and told him, "Uh, no that's Mummy's lotion…" pulling as hard as I could. I couldn't believe how strong this kid was! Or was it how weak I was…?

"Please Mummy!" he wailed, tugging harder. "If it's just lotion, then why can't I use it? Just because I'm English and not Nordic doesn't mean I can't use the same lotion as you!"

"P-Peter... please just give it back to me. Please. It has nothing to do with race." I was starting to sound desperate and I knew that was probably not the way to actually get him to stop, but I couldn't bring myself to yell at him, no matter how much I wanted to.

With an obnoxious whine, he succeeded in tearing it from my hands and started to try to leave the room, but like a bolt of Swedish lightning, Berwald was already there and had scooped him up, throwing me the lube and leaving the room, our child protesting in his arms. Curious, I caught the bottle and watched him leave, his poker face unreadable. For about half a second it was deathly quiet, not a sound audible in the whole house, leaving me wondering just what it was he was doing…

And then the screaming began.

Within seconds, I had leapt out of the bed and made my way to the living room, terrified. He had been abused as a child… but could Berwald really become abusive too? The answer was clear the minute I was out of the room. No, no he could not.

He had taken one of Matthias's old moving boxes from a couple months ago out of the cupboard, written "punishment" on the side in Sharpie, and had placed it over Peter's body and was shaking him in it while he shrieked in terror, begging Berwald, who looked totally impassive, to stop and let him out. I could only stare, unable to decide whether this was horrifying or a just thing to do… one thing I knew for sure was that it was a really bizarre method of punishment no matter how you looked at it. Did this count as abuse? He wasn't really hurting him… so no.

It lasted for about a minute before he pulled the box off Peter, who now had crazy hair and the most mortified expression on his face that I had ever seen. He was staring up at Berwald in bewilderment, his eyes wide. Then he turned and looked at me, then back at his dad, then back at me, like he expected me to do something.

"Don't b'ther y'ur Mom, Pet'r. And don't touch l'be."

I had a feeling he wouldn't do either for a long, long time.

1 year later

I had known this moment would come. I had tried to mentally prepare myself. I had been warned. But my heart had just refused to listen. And now, now… it was breaking. As I stared at the letter in front of me, I felt everything I had worked for over the past year dissipate into nothingness. I couldn't stop reading the words, though they stabbed my heart every time…

Peter Kirkland has been adopted by the Bradstreet family, who we've investigated thoroughly and have found to be a good home for him. This is a notice that you will need to have Peter brought back to All Saint's Orphanage on Saturday, January 1st. There you will meet the family and be introduced to them before saying goodbye. Thank you for your cooperation and foster care. Please enjoy the rest of your time with him.

Sister Annie

January first? Hadn't I been adopted just the day before that? And the Bradstreet family… the name sounded familiar, though only marginally… It wasn't like it mattered. No matter who they were, they were taking away our baby. Filled with despair, I took another look at today's date… that gave us two more days. At least we had gotten to spend Christmas with each other. At least we had gotten a year. My mind vehemently tried to go through all the "at leasts" it could, but I knew it didn't matter how many there were… this was still the end. There would be no more. Could be no more.

"Mum? What's that?"

I turned around, wiping my eyes the best I could, to see Peter standing behind me, looking nothing but concerned. He wanted to know… and I had to tell him.

"P-Peter…" I breathed, my voice shaking while I tried to put up a good front, one full of excitement, so he wouldn't know what this was doing to me. "I have good news for you! You're getting adopted!"

He stared at me a moment, peculiarly, before bursting into laughter and stealing the letter from my hand, scanning it. With every line he read, the laughter faded more, and by the time he got to the end, he wasn't even smiling. "No," he said, his voice choked. "It has to be a prank. It HAS to be…"

I wanted so badly to tell him it was. I wanted to laugh and joke with him, muss his hair and say, "Just joking! You'll always be here with me and Dad, no matter what!" but I couldn't. I had never mentioned the possibility of him being adopted to him, being too afraid of his reaction… the consequences… but now I was wishing I had told him from the beginning, so that his small heart didn't have to break, like mine had so many times. I could have prepared him for this, but instead he was staring up at me, his eyes quickly filling with tears, taken completely off guard.

"I don't want to leave!" he cried, panicking. "Please don't make me go! I'll be a good boy! I'll clean my room every single day and I'll do the dishes and… and… I'll even clean up after Hanatamago! Please don't make me, Mummy!"

It broke me. Just hearing him plead and being able to do NOTHING. What kind of parent was I? I shook my head, turning away. "Peter… you have to go. I'm sorry."

I squidged my eyes shut and bit my lip hard, anticipating what was coming next.

"I HATE YOU!" he yelled, running to his room and slamming the door loudly, over and over.

He had become fond of saying that lately, and I had begun to ignore it, but this time, I felt it deeply. What could I have done, as a parent, differently? How could I have prevented this? I couldn't have. That, in itself, was what made me a failure. In every sense, I had failed Peter and now he was sobbing in his room. Because of me. There was nowhere to turn… and I didn't even want to begin to think of telling Berwald.

He was strong, yes, but in the same sense he was as fragile as a shard of glass.

Every word I said affected him in some way. He was sensitive; it was hard not to. But his coughing had just finally stopped… he was perfectly happy. And now I would have to tell him that part of the life we had built was being taken away, the beating heart in the body of our family.

Full of pain, I checked the clock, knowing that Berwald would be coming home sometime soon… and was surprised to find that it was later than I had thought. And hear the car door slam as he got out. The front door creak open as he walked in. The luminous stare he gave me. I hadn't had time to prepare myself yet and it was as if I were walking onto a stage in front of a large crowd without my lines memorized. I felt nauseous… he knew something was wrong… I couldn't hide it, not from those eyes…. He would figure it out… Unable to contain my misery, I fell into his arms and cried, my tears streaking down his shirt as I clung on for dear life.

He slipped the letter from my hand and read it carefully, his face hardening. When he was done he let it fall from his grasp, drift slowly to the ground, a browned leaf on a frigid autumn day… he held me more tightly then, his eyes closed and his expression pained. Calm, but pained. Gently, he stroked my back, muttering words that I wasn't really meant to hear or understand.

"Don't w'rry… "I depicted. "We're going to f'ght."

And, weirdly, I knew exactly what he meant. He had one job now; he had quit the other two. He had been promoted; we now made enough to substantiate ourselves and Peter. By fostering him, we had learned how to be emotionally stable and care for him, provide all we could. Maybe… maybe now it was time to adopt him? Time to try? If we fought, at least we would be comfortable with the knowledge that we had TRIED, instead of just giving him up carelessly. I nodded into his chest.

We had to make him ours.

Over the next two days, we did absolutely everything we could with him. Just because we had made up our minds to counter the Bradstreet's didn't mean we would win. So we spent all the time in the world doing what he wanted, going out and having fun. When the day came, I could hardly believe it. Time had gone by so fast… and now, we were going into war. As we drove to the orphanage, the car was silent with apprehension and prayers. He had to be ours. He just had to be. We pulled into the drive about fifteen minutes later, shuffling slowly toward the door when we got out, each of us holding one hand of our son. We had even brought Hana along, who trotted along at our feet, just in case we really did have to say goodbye. Peter wouldn't want to leave without saying his final goodbye to Hanatamago.

Trying to think happy thoughts, we stepped through the door and made our way to Sister Monet's office, only to find that she was outside it, angrily protesting something to Sister Annie. She didn't even see us, just kept on with her ranting.

"…Didn't even come see ME, the headmaster, FIRST! Now these people think they're getting themselves a little boy when really, they AREN'T! You hear me? I'm not letting them take Peter away from Berwald and Tino! They need him a heck of a lot more than the family in there right now! Do you even realize who that family IS? Annie, that's the SAME FAMILY THAT ADOPTED TINO! That's his SISTER! Can you IMAGINE the drama that'll pass if we let this happen? I'm sorry, but there ain't no way I'm letting…"

And then she saw us, standing there, the three of our faces identically shocked.

With a pained smile, she said, "Hi guys! You three can just scoot on back home now, because Peter hasn't been adopted and as far as I'm considered, he never will be." Basically, it was like an "F YOU" to Sister Annie, who looked so angry that she was about to destroy her co-nun.

"Act'lly, we're ad'pting him," Berwald said, after a short pause.

Blinking a few times, Sister Monet seemed to recover from her anger and she told us, "Why, that would be perfect! Just come into my office! But first I need to finish with some other…"clients." She disappeared for a moment.

After some time, the door opened and I was met with the face of the devil herself, followed by Eric, who looked exhausted by the whole situation. Holding his hand was their little girl, Emmi, who was around five or so now, who gave me a big grin and wave, like she… REMEMBERED me… It was like a whole different thing when she saw Berwald though.

"Big Brother!" she yelled, pulling from her dad and clinging to his legs. "Mama, Daddy, look! It's Big Brother and Uncle Tino!"

Eric laughed, stunned. "Whoa, yeah it is! How are you, Tino?"

"I'm…" I started, but was cut off by my sister's shrill voice.

"I should have known he was YOUR foster! How could you run away like that, Tino? I was really worried about you! Why don't you ever come back home? Emmi misses you so much, you know? And Berwald too!"

I gritted my teeth and muttered, "Don't act like you care about Berwald. I'm sorry Emmi misses me, but I'm never coming back. Asa, just get out of my life."

She stared at me a long while after that before peeling Emmi off Berwald's legs, taking Eric's hand, and walking away, with one more sisterly glance back before she walked out of my life. Hopefully forever. Sister Monet ushered us into her office after they were completely gone and we started the process… And, with the biggest smile she could give, she told us that soon, someday, Peter would truly, rightfully be our son. He would belong with us… he would be an honest to God true part of the family we had created together, three orphaned misfits…

Another year gone by…

"Peter! Hey, Peter, wait up!" I called after him as he ran off after Raivis.

He spun around, impatiently hopping up and down. "Yes? What?"

I chuckled inwardly at how anxious he was to go hang out with what I could only assume was his boyfriend, though he hadn't quite admitted that to us yet. "I love you!" I shouted, only to receive a scoff and eyeroll in return.

Despite that, I heard him call back, "Love you too!" before he took off again, grabbing onto his Latvian friend's hand and dragging him along forcefully.

"Be careful…" I whispered quietly to myself. With a sigh, I turned around, expecting to be cleaning the kitchen today.

Instead I found Berwald sifting through a bunch of CD's on the floor, inspecting each one before tossing it away and moving to the next one, scanning it, and repeating. Intrigued, I walked up behind him and asked, "What are you doing?"

He ignored me, his eyebrows furrowing deeper with every CD that was apparently wrong. He went through a few more before pausing at one, scanning it several times to be sure it was right, and then sticking it into the player, going through the songs quickly before stopping at one, kicking all the CD's off of the floor and under things, and holding out his hand to me. Astonished, I took it, unable to form words as he pulled me closer to him and the song started playing.

To my amazement, he started twirling me around, mimicking the dance moves we had learned so long ago at the orphanage, each one flowing just as easily as it had at the ball… And, of course, I was tripping over everything, ruining it. But somehow, this time around, it didn't matter to me. I couldn't help the laughter that came from my throat as we danced awkwardly around the living room to Alison Krauss's "When You Say Nothing At All." I tried to focus on my feet while still listening to the lyrics, every single one touching my heart…

We kept going for the whole three minutes that the song took, even when I screwed up. If I tripped us up, we just continued, both of us snickering by this time at how awful I was. When the song ended, I burst out into laughter that had me crying, my eyes closing with the force of my convulsions. I wiped them with my sleeve and reopened them, about to tell him how amazing he was, only to find that Berwald, while I had been laughing, had slipped down on one knee and was holding out… a ring. Just like that, my words were gone.

"Tino," he said, his voice heavy, "Will y'u please m'rry me?"

Now I realized that my life had come full circle. This was the end… as well as the beginning. I had started off a lonely orphan, praying for a friend. And now… all I had ever wanted in my life was right in front of me. The best part was that he had always needed me just as much as I had needed him. He was, after all, my angel, my gift from God.

"Only if you never leave," I told him, involuntary tears slipping down my face as I fell to the ground in front of him and held him close, the beating of his heart synced with mine.

"N'ver," he swore.

Okay! A few things i must add here... 1. I didn't make up the box treatment, Sweden really did that to Sealand in a webcomic supposedly, only the box said "England" and not "punishment." 2. I totally don't own the song mentioned, i just think it fits, so you should listen to it :D 3. Yes, this may be the last one. Or maybe not. I might add a little somethin' somethin' if i feel like it. 4. When i said you got Tatered my last chapter, i was referring to my pen name. Some people didn't get it so... EXPLANATION! Thank ya'll for reading, i hope you continue to enjoy whatever i write :) So, once again i will say... you just got Tatered!