Finally Meeting EnglandxReaderxBaby!Sealand

It was hard. Being the wife of a soldier was not a role you’d ever expected to play, and sometimes you wondered how much longer you could keep it up.

You loved your husband, you really did. But the constant fear of a soldier that was not him coming to your home, telling you that Arthur had gone missing or was declared dead, was too big a burden for you to bear on your own. And you were one your own. Your parents and his were too far away for you to make it to them safely during this war.  The only company you had in your little house was your four month old child, Peter.

Arthur had been absent for most of your pregnancy up until now, a fact that upset you although you couldn’t blame him. Because of that, he’d never gotten the chance to see his little boy who looked almost exactly like him. You could only imagine Arthur’s reaction when you wrote to him that Peter even had his eyebrows.

A soft smile appeared on your face as you gently ran a finger over said eyebrows. You’d just tucked Peter into his crib for the night, although you planned to stay up for a little while longer to listen for anything new on the radio. The Allies had backed Germany into a corner, from what the newscaster had said, so everyone was hopeful this meant the war was coming to an end.

You could only pray that they were right.

Making your way to the living room, a tired sigh escaped you as you sat in what Arthur claimed was his chair. You liked to tease him that it had originally been given to you both for your own particular use before he commandeered it. Then he’d get all flustered and would stammer and try to give some reason but you’d shush him and say you didn’t mind as long as he was happy. And each time he’d kiss you and say he was only happy if you were.

Curling up in the chair, you shut your eyes and tried to catch a hint of Arthur’s familiar scent from the cushions; an unbidden tear collecting in your eye and traveling down your face when you realized how faint it was. Any longer and it would be gone completely.

You buried your face in your arms as you tried not to let yourself think like that. He would come home, you told yourself as your eyes grew heavy. Arthur would come home and you would be a family again.

The sound of steps in the entryway woke you up.

Your eyes shot open as you stifled the sharp gasp that would have escaped you if you weren’t so afraid for yourself and Peter. You slid off the chair as quietly as you could, grabbing a heavy book Arthur had left on the end table. Someone was in your house and you weren’t about to let them get away with it.

You quietly began creeping towards the doorway that connected the entryway to the living room, book held high above your head. A scowl appeared on your face as you realized the intruder was taking his shoes off! Did he think he was going to get cozy?

You refrained from muttering as you rounded the corner, bringing the book crashing down on the crouching man’s head.

“Ah, dammit!” he shouted, as he fell on his face.

You prepared to hit him again but something about his voice stopped you; although you held the book defensively just in case.

“What are you doing in my home?” you demanded, taking a cautionary step back as the man stood up, rubbing the back of his head.

“Bloody hell, woman! I may have been gone for over a year, but that doesn’t mean you get to me with a book!”

The book dropped from your hands as the man turned to you, an ever familiar scowl on his face as he continued rubbing his head. The scowl almost instantly morphed into a look of anxiety when a choked sob escaped you, but you didn’t see it because you were too busy launching yourself into your husband’s arms.

“Arthur! My Arthur!” you sobbed into his chest, clutching the back of his army jacket. “You’re home!”

His arms were around you immediately as he buried his face in your neck, lightly rocking the both of you from side to side. “Yes, love, I’m here. I’m home. With you.”

“I-I was so *hic* scared! I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again!”

Arthur’s grip tightened for just a moment before he pulled away enough to see your face and gently wipe the tears away. A sad smile was on his face as he looked at you, tracing your face with his eyes and fingers as if to memorize you all over again.

“I know, (Name). I know. I didn’t want to leave you. I would have come back in a heartbeat if I could have.”

You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes closed and you held his hand to your face with his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too,” you returned, happy just to be near him.

Your reunion was cut short as Peter’s shrill cry rang through the house.

“What was that?” Arthur asked, looking around in confusion. You giggled quietly as you took his hand and lead him upstairs to the nursery.

“That would be your son, Arthur,” you told him, bringing him into the room before letting him go to walk over to the crib and gently lift your baby out.

“M-my son…,” he muttered, face pale.

“Don’t tell me you forgot your son,” you chided softly, rocking Peter in your arms as you went back over to Arthur, who was looking down at his child in wonder.

“No, no it’s just…,” he paused, tracing a finger down Peter’s cheek.

“Just…?” you prompted, smiling as Peter’s crying subsided in favor of staring up at his father.

“He’s so soft,” Arthur whispered, unable to put into words what he was feeling.

He chuckled as Peter seized his finger with a strong grip, shaking it up and down wildly as if in greeting. You laughed lightly as you watched the first meeting between father and son, eyes meeting Arthur’s as he looked at you.

“He’s perfect,” he said, with a smile.

You returned the gesture with a smile of your own.

“He’s ours.”

And you were finally a family.