Author's Note: I'm super excited that I'm finally signed up for Zenkaikon! This will be my first anime convention and time cosplaying and my personality fits America so much that I don't even have to act XD Plus an opportunity to see Uncle Yo! Yay Uncle Yo! Next chapter: Some flashbacks and Arthur beginning to teach Peter to be a British gentleman.

Chapter 8:

Kiss of Death

August 22nd, 2009

Arthur couldn't believe he was about to do this. Peter watched him, perched on the arm of the couch-goddammit when he had told that little shit that was alright- watching him intensely for the words that would seal his fate. He couldn't blame the child, honestly, but did the kid have to be so anal?

Arthur's moved on their own, ghosting the worn pages of the flowery phone book that he could never bring himself to burn all those years ago. It had taken him quite the time to find it, hidden in a box of dusty photos and crude sketches and profiles of faeries in the basement. When he finally found it, Peter discovered him sloshed and sobbing on the floor, an empty bottle of cognac beside him. With a sad smile, he hoisted his brother up the stairs as best he could and put him to bed.

Which brought him to now, standing in his parlour nursing the remains of a hangover searching an allergy-infested, heart-wrenching book for the number of people who most certainly curse him out and hang up on him, then demand their son-daughter-thing back.

Arthur looked over at Peter with a frown. He in return, smiled back at him, already looking improved since he had arrived.

Arthur's grip on the book strengthened, as did his resolve. He could not let them have Peter. Peter had to stay here, where he was understood, and safe, and wanted. He dialed quickly, before he had the time to think any more.

Brrrringgggg.

This was a bad idea.

Brrrringgggg.

How stupid could he be?

Brrrringgggg.

They weren't home! Maybe it was a sign that he should just hang up and-

"Hewwo?"

Oh sweet bloody damn.

"Er yes hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland-Jo-j-" He cut himself off, realizing his mistake. "Ah yes, Arthur Kirkland. I was just wondering if a Ms. Alice Kirkland was available? If not, Mr. Kirkland would do just fine."

"Oh! Owkay!" There was silence, and the sound of a smoke detector nearing.

"What in God's name…?

"Elise? Elise darling, what is it, Mommy's cooking."

Oh. Well that explained quite a bit.

"Some creepy man named Arfur wants to talk to you!"

Haha! Pwned by a kid! That's funny as Hell. I mean I hate kids but it's funny when they're insulting him and not me.

"Hey, you little git! I take offense to that!"

"Arthur…?" A shatter in the background. "Here! Give Mommy the phone! Arthur? Arthur! Is it really you?"

He was shaken by the desperate sound to her voice. It had never occurred to him that his lack of presence would ever cause any distress. If anything, he had only be worried about the future stress it would alleviate for them. Perhaps there had been a slight miscalculation. "M-ms…M-mum…y-yes…it's me."

That admittance was the admittance that everything in Arthur's past had indeed occurred , and it was as if a dam had just burst open. And what a fitting simile, for everything that dam had held from sight would surely drown the damned one who had made it that way. Get it? Damned? That was punny!

"Oh Arthur!" She began to sob. "Where have you been! We have missed you so much! So much has happened while you were gone!"

"Please, mum…now is not the time…"

"But how could you just up and leave? We loved you so much and we had never shown you anything but love!"

"I know…mum, I know."

No one had ever shown him anything but love, yet all he did was smash and break the hearts of others. He was truly a disgrace.

"This isn't about me though, mum." He was moreof reminding himself when he said that. "This is about Pete- er, Peyton."

"What? What about Peyton? Do you know where she is?"

"She ended up on my doorstep a few days ago. Heaven knows how she found the bloody place."

"Oh, God! This is such great news! Let me get a pen and some paper-I'll come pick her up right away!"

Arthur's chest clenched. "No!" He shouted, far too forcefully, for Peter froze where he sat.

"…What?" Her voice was so small now, the crack snapping with the most pitiful vengeance. "What do you mean? Arthur you can't just keep my daughter from me!"

"No, I'm not, I'm not," He sighed. "That's not what I meant…"

"Explain to me, because I'm having a hard time understanding how this isn't kidnapping!"

Arthur sighed again, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple. "I'm just….I'm going through a lot right now…I really don't feel comfortable re-integrating into the family yet…mum, I know you must hate me for just disappearing off the face of the map, but I was young, I made mistakes. Please, I beg of you, give me a few weeks with Peyton. I'm appalled as to why she would do this. I do believe I can make a difference. If you come and get her now, she will simply run away again-" of that he was most definitely sure "-and this time you may not be lucky enough for her to end up with a family member. I f you allow me just a bit of time, I will give you my address as soon as I am sure she will not run again."

A pregnant silence, and then, "I will give you 2 weeks; fourteen days, Arthur, if you give me your address and promise to have a talk with me, a real talk."

Arthur looked over at Peter, who had gotten bored and begun to play Halo on Alfred's Xbox. "…Alright then. We can talk then, or at least try. I, I can't promise I'll be entirely alright to talk about just everything just yet, that past month has been Hell…but it has been quite a long time since I have seen you, Mum."

"I understand. Thank you for calling, Arthur. Do you mind if I…talk to Peyton?"

"O-of course not," he betrayed himself, every muscle screaming no. "Peyton, love…?"

Peter looked up, visibly shrinking. Arthur weakly held the phone out.

"She wants to talk to you."

Arthur had never heard a simple statement sound so much like a death sentence.

Peter nodded, and took the phone. He looked small and childish again, so fragile. For as soon as he took the phone, he was a girl again, so long as her voice echoed in his ears, taunting him innocently. Nothing had changed. He would always be the same. He would always be the thing that disgusted him so.

When Peter was quite finished, Arthur took the phone and told his mother his address, marking the date she would could to pick Peter up on his Cricket Monthly calendar.

"I love you Arthur. I hope you know that."

He did, he most certainly did. But sometimes seeing what fear and insecurity had done to him, and now Peter, made her seem like she could be nothing but the most evil of evils. Arthur, though, never able to eloquently and effectively speak his mind, as you very well know, could only mumble a sad, "I know."

He bid her farewell and hung up, settling on the couch beside Peter with a cautious frown. "Peter…"

Peter flinched, curling in on himself and whimpering.

"Oh love…oh please don't cry…everything will be alright…" Arthur bit his lip and wrapped his arms around him, tightly, kissing his hair softly. "Love, this age is a hard time to be in your position…everything seems like the end of the world. But everything will be alright, poppet…I'm here…I will love you no matter what…"

"I will always love you no matter what…"