A/n: This was written for Owyn on tumblr because she lets me talk to her and will talk back and that's just awesome! Based on the current canon of the askblog, so possible spoilers. Also, I have now done fanfiction of a fanfiction. Life is great.

Ten days.

It had been ten days since the semester had ended and he had to move back in with Alfred. Ten days since he'd had to start forgiving his owner for giving his baby away. He knew that Peter was probably better off, that he had two mommas now and they could probably afford him better than Alfred could, but that didn't make it fair. It didn't make it okay.

He wanted to stay mad at Alfred, but it was so hard. He just seemed so sorry and so very sad. Arthur just felt so lonely, like there was a giant gap in his chest. Alfred was still talking to him, still answering questions that the stupid people sent. And hearing him but not going out just made Arthur feel even lonelier.

Then one night when Alfred was sleeping he finally crawled out from under the bed. He gently touched Alfred's face. It was all scruffly. He must not have been able to shave for a while. He looked tired and worried. The skin under his eyes was purple but the rest of his face was too white.

Arthur slithered into bed next to him. Alfred was so warm, always so warm. For the first time since Peter had been taken tears started to flow.

Alfred's arms tightened around him. "Hush, it's okay."

"No it's not. He- I-"

"Ssh, ssh," He held him close. "We still have each other. And I was planning to take you to see him this weekend."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He sniffled and buried his head in Alfred's shirt. Then Alfred gently traced his back.

"I'm glad you came out. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

There was a long pause and Alfred's breaths started to even out again.

"Hey Alfred?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think he really will forget me like that one person said?"

"No, of course not."

"But I don't remember my real mamma."

"That's different. You'll go back and see Peter. I never knew your mom. I just found you outside. If I did I would have taken you to see her."

"Do you think she was sad?"

"What?"

"Do you think she was as sad leaving me as I was leaving Peter?"

"I don't know."

"But I want to know."

"Arthur, I don't know how to find out."

Arthur frowned. "Okay."

"I mean, we can try, but…"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Thank you, Alfred. I mean it."

Alfred leaned in and kissed his forehead before laying back. Arthur let his rhythmic breathing lure him to sleep.

The next day when Alfred was in class the letter came. He went through a bunch of messages: aging him, de-aging him, turning him into a girl, the usual. But then there was one that caught his eyes.

"I know where your mother is."

He looked carefully, trying to figure out who had sent it, but it was a grayface, so he had no choice but to publish it, begging the grayface for another ask. He put on his best pout, posted the picture, and waited by the mailbox. He got dozens of messages saying how cute he was and that the grayface needed to respond right away and all sorts of things, but no new hints.

He waited for the rest of the day, even until after his bedtime. Alfred let him stay, apparently just pleased that he was out from under the bed. That night Arthur fell asleep curled up right next to the box.

In the morning when he awoke he apologized to Alfred and told him what had happened. Alfred seemed sympathetic and sat with him for a while. Every time a letter came Arthur would jump on it, and every time it still wasn't the grayface.

Eventually he gave up. They weren't going to respond. They were just being mean. Why were grayfaces always mean? He spent the rest of the day on Alfred's computer, getting the hang of a new game he'd just downloaded before Peter came. He got so engrossed with it that he barely noticed when Alfred came home.

That is, until he said, "Hey, Arthur! Someone sent you a message!"

"What's it say?" Arthur hollered back.

"Nothing. It's just an address." His ears perked up at that. He paused the game and rushed downstairs.

"What's it say? What's it say?"

"Here." He handed the message to him.

It was a grayface message, just like last time, and again like last time it was too short, only saying, "412 Shelby Street."

"Where is this?" He asked, waving the paper, "Where is it?"

"It's close to where I found you. I wonder if your mom lived there for a while?"

"Maybe! Can we go? Can we?"

"Of course."

"Yeah!"

Arthur dragged him out the door and to the bus stop, barely giving Alfred time to slip shoes on. He was bouncing with excitement as they waited for the bus.

After an eternity he finally asked, "How long does it take to get there?"

"About twenty minutes."

"When does the bus get here?"

"About ten minutes."

"How long have we been waiting?"

"Five minutes."

"Alfred, this is taking forever!"

Alfred smiled. "You've also asked me that about ten times."

Arthur huffed and crossed his arms. "It should come faster."

"Trust me, I know the feeling."

Luckily Alfred had his phone and let Arthur play with it. That made the time go a lot faster. He barely looked up to get on the bus and go to a seat (That might have been better anyway. He didn't want to think about what he was slithering over. Maybe if people didn't cover their feet with shoes they'd be a little more careful about what they left on the ground). In fact, he was so busy playing his game that he almost forgot the importance of what they were doing until they got off the bus.

"It's right this way." Alfred said, taking Arthur's hand in his.

It took another few minutes before they reached the house. It didn't look like somewhere he'd expected his mom to be. It was old and sort of run down. The paint was peeling from the door and porch. A few shingles slid off the roof and were littering the overgrown lawn. One window had been replaced with a plastic bag.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" He asked.

Alfred nodded, looking down at the letter to make sure. "Well, let's see what happens."

They went up the old, creaking steps and Alfred hit the doorbell. Arthur wasn't scared, he wasn't shaking, and he certainly wasn't hiding mostly behind Alfred. He just felt like he needed to be on his guard.

A fat old man answered the door. He wore a white tank top that was stained with sweat, and only a few brown hairs were left on top of his head. He smelled like he slept in a pile of old mice. The look in his beady eyes made the hair on the back of Arthur's neck stand up on end. His bulk filled most of the threshold so Arthur couldn't see anything behind him.

"Whaddya want?" He asked.

Arthur had to admit, Alfred was standing very firm. He looked the man in the eye and smiled. "Do you have any garter snakes?"

"Y' interested in buying? Well that changes things. I don't keep garters anymore. The one good breeding female I had disappeared one day on me about a year and a half ago. And that was just after my male went and died. I got a few good corn snakes, though, and they're pretty similar."

"You breed snakes, then?"

"Yeah? Didn't you know that? Why're you here?" He narrowed his eyes. "You a cop? Because I can tell you I'm a reputable man. I sell to stores all over."

"Well, I-"

It was then that the man seemed to notice Arthur. "Where'd you get that snake, kid? It looks like one of mine."

Alfred gripped his hand more tightly. "I found him one day. It was cold and he'd been left outside, so I took him home."

"Thought so. She must've had eggs after she disappeared. Looks just like my old ones."

"Right."

"So did you want to buy a friend for him? Like I said, I've got a great selection of-"

"No, we just wanted to know where he came from. And, well, now we know. Have a nice day, now!"

And with that he walked off dragging Arthur behind him. Arthur turned to look, trying to see what had turned his owner's look so sour. He didn't see it for long before the man closed the door, but one second was enough to imprint on his mind. Dozens of snakes were squished into tiny wire cages and stacked on top of each other. All of them were so thin that their ribs were showing and their scales looked dull and lusterless.

When they were around the corner from the place, Alfred sunk to his knees and squeezed Arthur tight.

"I'm so glad I found you," He said. "I'm so glad you weren't born there."

"But what about the others?"

"I'll call the ASPCA when we get home. But I don't know how much we can do."

"Why would anyone do that, Alfred? Why?"

"Some people are sick. They care about money more than anything else. Mass-producing animals! And god-" His face got really pale. "My god, Arthur, that could have been you, crammed in a little cage, starved to death. Oh, Artie!"

He held him even more tightly and started crying. Arthur started crying too. Alfred cared so much, he tried so hard and Arthur had just been throwing it back in his face. They cried together there for a while, Arthur longer than Alfred, but when they were done Alfred took them back home. Arthur sat curled on his lap this time, snuggled against his chest.

He didn't leave his side for the rest of the day. At night he crawled right into bed with him and wrapped his tail around one of his legs.

"Alfred?"

"Yeah, Arthur?"

"I don't wanna know what actually happened to my mom anymore. If they grayface sends anything else, let's not read it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Besides, you take good care of me. You're more like my mom than she was by now."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have felt tears hitting his skin again.