Author's Notes:
I think I've already mentioned how you guys make my life with your comments. Oh well, I'll say it again. Big thanks to SamuraiSal1, Canada Cowboy, TheAmazingAl, Angel of the Midnight Sea, intricate-bindings, Waytomuchadoaboutnothing, Sobubbles1, Pychopathic Robot 9, Trumpet-Geek, Foreverhalfa, FoolishLittleDuck, ShadowEntity, animefangirl55, SOSVampire, Izu3039, Pureh and SpacePotato for their epic reviews. Love them all, despite having tiredly replied to them at 2AM xD Pfffft, I'll go sleep now U_U
Sooo... Ummm yeah. First things first, let me say that I have NO idea and NO interest whatsoever in the functioning of legal procedures. So basically, anything that has to do with police and law: I give up. Which kinda sucks cause I really needed the knowledge to write this chapter, but oh well. FUCK THIS. THIS. IS. FANFICTIOOOON. (I've said that before... D: )
So yes, that's basically to say that this is all the fail!legalconsequences you're gonna get in this story. I don't even know how custody works. And honestly, I don't wanna know cause law bores the hell out of me. No offense to any lawyers/aspiring lawyers who are reading this ._.
And yes, this is actually a warning for legal inaccuracies. And a warning for how the author doesn't give a damn anymore about them because she's been demoralized and turned off from ever researching law again.
Anonymous question reply: Alasdair's... coming very soon. And unfortunately, no, we won't be seeing any other UK bros than Scotland :C Sorry~
Buuut... the only 'serious' warning for the chapter is swearing. The end C:
"Boys, come in, come in." A heavily Italian voice called as Alfred knocked on the principal's door. When they opened it, they came face to face with the young principal, smiling as he toyed with a curly lock of hair.
"Good afternoon, Mr Vargas." Alfred greeted, holding the door open for Arthur before closing it tightly.
"Good afternoon, boys. Take a seat, will you?" the principal offered, waving to the two chairs in front of his desk.
Arthur nervously took a seat, waiting for Alfred to sit, too, before he slid his hand on Alfred's knee. Alfred didn't react past gently setting his hand down on Arthur's and clenching lightly.
"Alright, so you must be wondering why I called you two." Nod. "Well, truth is, I got a call from your parents, Alfred. The police contacted them about Arthur's current situation, and they need you two home right now. The police has issued the official warrant for your father's arrest, Arthur, so you need to head back to confirm everything."
"Oh." Alfred blinked, stealing the simple sentence right out of Arthur's mouth.
"Yes, well, it should be no problem, really, as I'm told. You boys are almost done with this all. I'm so happy everything is turning out fine." The principal sighed in content. "Still, you should have told us before about your problems at home, Arthur. Nurse Eliza gave me your latest health report, too, and it doesn't seem that you've been treating yourself too well."
Arthur looked away and frowned, refusing to show how disgusted he was with himself, with his past self.
"Still, everything's working out now, so don't worry. Just remember that there's help for you everywhere, okay, Arthur?" Mr Vargas smiled lazily, looking kindly at his students.
Arthur still refused to meet his gaze.
The phone suddenly rang, which the principal eyed before picking up.
"Hello~" he toyed with the cord, elongating his last syllable.
There was quick, prompt chattering from the other line and Mr Vargas laughed.
"Ah, perfect. I'll send them over." He replied and gently closed the phone, turning to face the curious teens. "Alright, well, your parents are here to pick you up, so just take all your stuff from your lockers and head down to the reception. Mr Beilschmidt will be waiting to let you out." He informed them.
"Thanks so much, Mr Vargas." Alfred grinned, getting up and letting go on Arthur's hand. Arthur quickly straightened and nodded as a wordless thanks.
"It's no problem, really. I'm here if you need anything else." The principal chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Good day to you~"
"Bye!" Alfred waved and walked to the door. Arthur barely had time to hand the principal the detention request slip he'd written in class before Alfred called him.
An unsaid plea went through Arthur's eyes, to which the principal's eyes replied by lighting up gently. A promise.
Arthur smiled lightly and nodded again before running out after Alfred. The principal watched them leave with a bright smile and waved as they closed the door.
His smile gave place to a sombre, worried expression when the door clicked shut.
...OOOOOOOOOOOO...
"Mom? Dad?" Alfred blinked in surprise as the teens ran up to Alfred's parents' car. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
"I know, honey, but we received a call from the police station. Get in, we'll talk on the way home." Amelia pointed to the back, to which Alfred replied by shoving the door open and practically dragging Arthur inside.
"So what's up?" Alfred asked as the car started again.
"The arrest warrant has been issued to arrest your father, Arthur, but before everything's over, your brother has to come here and show that he's ready to 'take custody' of you. It's not really an official move since you're almost legal, now, but the police just wants to see if you have a safety net below you." Alfred's dad informed him with that deep, affectionate voice of his.
"Everything's pretty much over now, so we just need you to call your brother as soon as possible. You said he lives somewhere in Pennsylvania, so it would make the case easier if you could contact him and he could come by tomorrow morning, maximum. The police station said they want to arrest your father before tomorrow midnight." Amelia finished kindly, taking a turn to their street.
"So why are you two out of work?" Alfred asked curiously, crossing his arms and raising his brow.
"Well, someone had to bail you two out of school, mister." Amelia raised a brow back and smirked at him through the mirror. "And we were both contacted because we're Arthur's replacement family until his brother gets here. I have to set the house up for their stay, anyways."
"And I... pulled some strings inside the police station so they could get the warrant out quicker." Alfred's father typed something on his Blackberry. "You know, old debts to be settled, and all."
"Aw man, dad, you're too cool!" Alfred cheered from the back, extending his hand to the front and knuckle-bumping his father, whose lips twitched upwards a bit at the move.
Arthur felt a swell of jealousy at how close their relationship was, then sighed in sadness. All this, just for him. And he still hadn't done anything to repay them.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you all in this. I'm really sorry." he shakily scribbled on the marker board he faithfully carried in his hands at all times.
"Hmm?" Alfred leaned over and snatched the board away, reading the message and furrowing his brows. "Moooooom. Arthur's apologizing needlessly again." He whined, showing the board to his mother and father in the front.
"Alfred, get that away from me, I'm driving. And Arthur, if you don't stop apologizing right now, I will hit you. Really. No need to apologize. You've done nothing wrong."
And if this were any other abused person, they probably would have lapsed into a panic attack at Mrs Jones' words. But Arthur couldn't find it in himself to hate these people for all they did for him. The playfulness and gentleness with which they all spoke to him made him feel so comfortable that the words didn't even matter much.
Deep inside, he knew that they would never hurt him, and that he could never hate them.
"Alright, hop off and let's get this issue resolved once and for all." Mrs Jones declared, parking the car in front of their house.
"Alright. Artie and I will find his brother's phone number and call him. Don't bother us, kay?" Alfred decided, helping Arthur out of the car.
"Alright. We'll be inside all day long today if you need any of us." James informed him, still typing on his Blackberry. Alfred didn't seem at all bothered by the lack of eye contact and grinned.
"Thanks, dad." He took the keys from his mom's hands and led Arthur's to the front door.
They were in and had shed their coats in a minute, and were already going up to Alfred's room by the time his parents came in.
"So how are you gonna find his phone number, Artie?" Alfred asked, watching as Arthur grabbed his laptop from his desk and turned it on.
"I'm pretty sure I put it in a document on my laptop a few years ago."
"Wow. Let's hope it's still there, then, huh?" Alfred commented, looking over Arthur's shoulder as he entered the password and waited for his desktop to load.
Arthur just nodded and glared at the screen as it that would make the number pop up.
Once the desktop was loaded, Arthur immediately opened a search engine and typed his first hypothesis in.
"Try that file." Alfred suggested, poking the screen at a file labelled "numbers".
Arthur clicked on it and tried not to look too disappointed when it turned out to be some math homework from the beginning of the year.
"What if you added a date to the search details?" Alfred suggested. "Can't you ask it to check for files edited before, like, a couple of years or something?"
Arthur shrugged and tried, but the option was not available.
Alfred made a 'tch' noise behind him and bit his lip. Looks like they'd have to go through all of them.
At some point, Alfred's mom came in to ask them if they were okay, but they just nodded wordlessly. The search for the mysterious file was starting to put strain on Arthur's mind, because if he didn't find it in his computer, he knew he hadn't written it anywhere else.
A ball of nervousness knotted in his throat and he bit his lip as he closed another document without any leads.
As for Alfred, well, he was having fun. Of course, he was nervous with their operation, but just seeing the file names Arthur had for his documents made it up. He didn't think anything could beat that one file named 'HOLY BLOODY FUCK THERE'S A FRIGGIN UNICORN EATING MY SCREEN' and that was actually just a 200-word essay he had to write last year.
"I'm starting to feel a little hopeless." Arthur typed in one of the documents he'd opened.
"Hey, hey, hey, don't give up, Artie! Maybe we just have to dig deeper. Besides, doesn't it bring back memories to browse through all your old stuff again? Especially with special names such as theirs?" Alfred laughed, ruffling Arthur's hair lovingly.
"I don't want to remember."
"Because I'm moving on."
"Still, I'm sure it's hidden here somewhere. Are you sure you don't have it on USB?"
"I don't own a USB key, nor a memory card."
"Try digging through your recycle bin."
"I cleaned it out last week."
"Ah, I never clean mine out." Alfred scratched his head, out of ideas. "Well, uhh... I guess we can search by date. Try to find all the files that were edited in the very first year that you got the laptop."
Arthur sighed tiredly and complied, immediately getting a list of about seventy files. Twelve of them were pictures, two of them were movie maker projects and six of them were powerpoint presentations. That left about 50 files to browse through.
Arthur and Alfred winced simultaneously and sighed in defeat as Arthur opened the first file and closed it immediately again.
"You're sure you don't know what you named it?" Alfred asked quietly, looking at all the weird, extremely long titles Arthur had given his files on a whim ('I feel like a cheese and jam sandwich with tomato spread. I wonder if we have any in the fridge' was actually the name of a document he'd made for his project about famine in southern countries in ninth grade. Awkward).
"With titles such as these, I'm not sure I could find the file I edited last. It seemed like a good idea to name them by whatever crossed my mind at the time, okay?" Arthur typed in jerkily, then closed the documents to try again.
"Hmm..." Alfred sighed, scrolling the list of weird titles thoughtlessly. There was this one title talking about bananas, another about how rain sucked, another on how unicorns should not be trusted because they attempt to steal your spleen when you're sleeping, another about how rejected and alone he felt and how he hated him but wanted him to come back, another about a cat running in space...
...
"Open that one." He suggested, pointing at the one he'd read before the space cat. For some reason, it was giving off uncomfortable vibes.
Arthur blinked and followed his finger to the file labelled 'I hate you for leaving but please come back I'm so alo...'. The rest was hidden because it was too long. His eyes darkened, and he hesitated for a second before clicking on it.
Sure enough, the file that popped up held a long phone number on its second line, the first having a sentence occupying it.
'As if I'd ever call you after you abandoned me, you bloody idiot.'
There was a pregnant pause as Arthur gazed wistfully at the first sentence. Meanwhile, Alfred read the title now that it was imprinted in full at the top of the document. His hand unconsciously tightened itself around the covers on his bed and he gritted his teeth.
'I hate you for leaving but please come back I'm so alone I don't wanna stay let me come with you why did you leave why did you take Peter why not me why do you hate me I don't hate you please come back don't leave me here'.
Alfred's heart wrenched, and he thanked the program for having word limits on the titles. He didn't think he could handle any more of Arthur's written rant. And they both knew who he had been so upset about.
"I'll go get the phone." Alfred finally announced, getting up and leaving the room.
As soon as he was gone, Arthur shut his eyes and clenched his fist, trying to suppress memories of more unpleasant times. Times when he remembered locking himself in his room and crying on for days on end, begging his big brother to come back. He'd been so young, couldn't understand why his big brother and daddy kept yelling at each other and saying bad words, couldn't understand why his big brother took baby Peter one day and just left, couldn't understand why his big brother left him alone with his mean dad.
He'd been, what, seven? Eight, when it happened? Alasdair had left him his cellphone number on a paper. Arthur remembered throwing the paper in the trash bin in his rage after he found out he'd left. When he got a laptop as a birthday present from one of his rich aunts for his tenth birthday, though, he'd randomly found the paper again, lying under his bed, and had saved the number in a file to keep preciously forever.
It was only when he actually realized the meaning of the word abandonment a bit later that he'd changed the title to his rant.
Reality rushed back as he opened his eyes and blinked before his eyes could even get the idea to start watering. His mouse went over to the file properties button, and he right clicked it to rename the document. His fingers trembled as they hovered over the keys, and he jerkily erased the entire rant in the title before writing a smaller, more sensible one that made a lot more sense to him now.
'I'm sorry. I love you. Please come back, big brother.'
He sighed and saved the title, feeling nostalgia wash over him as he did. Thankfully, Alfred chose that moment exactly to walk in, holding a phone.
"Here. Open a blank document" because he couldn't stand looking at the document with the phone number on it and- Had the title just changed? "and type in whatever you want me to tell him. It'll go faster than you manually writing."
Arthur nodded and opened a blank page while Alfred turned the phone on and handed it to him. Arthur shakily took the phone and looked back and forth from the numbers on the screen. They felt like they were beckoning him, but hissing at him at the same time. Like they wanted him to call, but didn't want him to call, either. He gulped down and tried to calm his beating heart.
Before even he knew what he'd done, the numbers had been punched in, the phone had been put on speaker, and the dial tone had started ringing.
Arthur fumbled with the phone and dropped it on Alfred's bed in a sudden panic as there was a click on the other line.
Alfred wearily eyed him, then picked the phone up in his hands. Heart soaring in anticipation, Arthur grabbed his laptop and put his fingers on the keys nervously.
Alfred smiled encouragingly at him as the first word was said.
"'ello, this is Alasdair Kirkland speaking."
Arthur took a sudden breath, hearing the long lost voice again. Even with telephone static in the way, he recognized it. The heavy Scottish accent had died a bit throughout all the years, but it was still strong enough to prove that they'd reached the right person.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
Arthur nodded numbly, staring at the phone anxiously.
"Yes, hello." Alfred finally answered for him.
"Greetings. Who is this?"
"My name's Alfred F Jones, and I'm calling on behalf of your brother." Alfred started, worriedly looking at Arthur as his stare froze on the phone.
"My broth-"
"Yes, Arthur Kirkland, your younger brother."
And then, there was silence.
Arthur moved to say something, anything, but did not find his lost voice. His brother would probably not remember him anyways...
"Arthur... Oh, bratty little Artie, you mean." The other man laughed, making Arthur blush. "Wow, it's been such a long time since I've heard from him. What, ten years?" there was a sigh. "May I talk to him?"
Arthur's breath caught itself in his throat, and he guiltily looked down at the covers.
"Actually, he can't talk. I'll be voicing what he wants to say." Alfred muttered.
"Huh? And why's that? Ain't I allowed to hear my little brother's voice anymore?" the tone got defensive.
"No, actually, it's because he's completely lost his voice at the moment."
"You could've called me later. Better late than never, they say, too."
"Well I'm sure he would've loved to call to check up on you after 10 years of forgetting, but there are more important issues at hand that require immediate attention." Alfred's tone was sarcastic, then dropped lower. That was the sign for Arthur to start writing.
"Alright, what is it, then?"
"Well, to put it briefly, there has been an accident." Alfred read the sentence off the screen. "You remember your father, right?"
"Oh, the dumbfuck waste of space. Yep, I remember him." There was a sigh at the other line. "Is he finally dead?"
"No, but in Arthur's opinion, he's not far." Alfred winced, reading over Arthur's shoulder. "Anyways, I don't know if you were aware, but Arthur's dad has been verbally abusive to him ever since you left, so-"
"Wait, hold up, abusive, you said?"
"I take it you weren't aware."
"Hey, I knew the old bastard yelled a lot and raged whenever someone spoke of mother, but I didn't know he was abusive."
"Well, he was for the entire time that Arthur lived with him." Alfred growled, as if blaming Alasdair for it.
"Lived? Does that mean he actually moved out? Wow, I didn't even know that the little squirt was over 18." There was a whistle of congratulations from the other side.
"Uh, actually, he turned seventeen in May." Alfred clarified, a bit disgusted that the older man didn't even know how old his brother was.
"Alright, I won't interrupt. Keep talking. What's this accident you mentioned?" the voice sounded careless to Alfred's ears, but Arthur smiled, knowing that this was his way of getting concerned. Alasdair had never been keen on showing concern or affection in public.
"Like I said, Arthur's father was verbally abusive, and last Friday, they got into an argument that turned physical." Alfred gulped down nervously. "Arthur was nearly strangled to death by his dad's hands and barely escaped alive."
"Fuck." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side. "Is that why he can't speak right now?"
"Yes. Among other damage, his vocal cords were hurt to the point where he's only recently started making low, whispery noises again." Alfred reported, eyes darting nervously to the computer screen where Arthur was diligently typing up the info.
"Fuck." The other voice repeated sombrely. "I'm sure he's fine, though, right? Artie was a tough bastard ever since he was a child."
"Well in my opinion, he's a complete wreck." Alfred huffed, and yelped when Arthur punched him, pointing to the screen. "But in his opinion, he's holding up fine. Believe who you wanna believe."
"Well, asides from trying to make me feel guilty, is there a reason you called?"
"Yes. And Arthur says he'd kill himself before trying to make you feel guilty on purpose. Sentimental, isn't he?" Alfred snickered, ruffling Arthur's hair lovingly.
"He's always been the girl of the family."
"Well, he says fuck you." Alfred shrugged, watching as Arthur erased the giant bold letters on his screen irritably.
"At least he's still himself as I knew him."
"But he's not!" Alfred wanted to say. "He thinks he's worthless, he overworks himself, he's too quiet, his sense of self-esteem is close to zero, he won't accept himself for who he is, Arthur is NOT himself right now!"
But he kept it all inside and instead settled for reading what Arthur wanted him to say next.
"Anyways, back on track. We reported to the police yesterday, and the arrest warrant has been issued for your father."
"About fucking time. The guy should have been arrested for being born."
"You really don't like him, do you?" Alfred blinked in surprise. He wasn't even aware that it was possible to hate your own father that much.
"Understatement. But anyways, go on."
"Well, they're gonna, but the police wants Arthur to have another adult relative with him now that his dad's gonna be out of commission. It's not like it's mandatory, more like an informal procedure to make sure Arthur's well on his way to recovery, and..." Alfred left his sentence hanging seeing as Arthur's hands were trembling on the keyboard.
"And...?" There was a pause. "Oh. Oh, you mean... You mean I have to come over?" the voice sounded surprised.
"Yeah... He basically just needs a relative with him right now." Alfred answered, raising a brow. What else did the man think was expected of him? Call one of Arthur's faceless relatives over from England?
"Oh." There was shuffling. "But I... I'm too far. And... I, uhh..."
"Okay, listen, Alasdair, right?" Alfred snapped, annoyed by the hesitation in his voice. "This is Alfred talking, and not Arthur. I don't know what your alibis are, but I don't care either. Arthur's been hurt real bad, and he's finally starting to heal. We're trying to help him, and you're a part of his recovery."
Arthur gently put a hand on Alfred's shoulder to calm him down, but only succeeded in getting it shrugged off.
"I don't know if you're thinking that everything will be alright if they're left as they are, but they're not. You and Arthur think alike. You both think that it's okay to let things die down on their own and suffer through as they do, but it's not. Moral of the rant, I'm not gonna let you give up on Arthur just like that. I'm a hero, Arthur's hero, and I am personally gonna make sure that he's happy from now on." His eyes flashed. "So you'd better get your butt in the car in the next hour and drive over here because your little brother needs you, and it'd be totally uncool to let him hang like that."
There was silence. Arthur looked down, blushing bright red and wringing his hands in embarrassment. He appreciated Alfred standing up for him and all, but he didn't have to chastise his brother on how he treated his siblings...
"I ought to hit you, you know, kid." Alasdair finally sighed wearily.
"A lot of people would like to." Alfred shrugged with a smile.
"Artie can hear me right now, right?"
"Yes, he can. He's right next to me."
"Hey Artie. Do me a favour and give him a taste of the infamous Kirkland hook, would you?"
And Arthur readily complied by rearing his fist and throwing a strong right hook at Alfred's arm. The yelp of pain that Alasdair heard right afterwards proved that Arthur had indeed inherited the family's most precious skill, after all.
He chuckled. Despite throwing off his cool front over the phone, he was quite worried. Arthur had always been the most fragile of the family, and he was almost afraid of confronting him after such an accident.
It had been so long. How had he grown up? Had he grown the common giant Kirkland eyebrows? Maybe he was as tall as himself now. Had he cut his hair or had he left it long over the nape of his neck like he'd done when he was small? Was he strong and muscled or small and bony?
The questions ran free in his head, and he suddenly found himself regretting having missed out on so much of his little brother's life. And he regretted not keeping up with him even more. If he'd known about their father... Maybe he could've done something before it all built up to this.
"Alasdair?"
No matter. The past was the past. Perhaps he hadn't been a good older brother to Arthur before, but he now faced an opportunity to make up for lost time. He wasn't gonna pass up on that.
"Hello, are you still there?"
"Yeah." He whispered thoughtfully, pulling a cigarette pack out of his pocket and eyeing it. He'd quit smoking a couple of years ago and now tended to smoke only when nervous or anxious. He didn't see a reason why his brain called for a fag right there and then.
"So. What do you say?" that Alfred boy on the other line asked quietly, hope lacing his every word.
"You should write a novel, y'know that, kid?" Alasdair sighed. "You could make girls cry if you put those words to good use."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Alright. Give me an address. I have things to take care of here before leaving, but I'll be there as soon as I can." He muttered, picking up a stray piece of paper and a pen from the table in front of him. The kid on the other side took a sharp, relived breath and immediately gave him his address, along with loose instructions on how to get there from the interstate. Alasdair wrote them down and stared at the number on the paper.
That's where his little brother was. That's where he was going. That's where he'd finally get another chance to be the big brother he never was for Arthur.
"Thanks. We'll be waiting impatiently." There was a pause and shuffling. "And Arthur's asking if you remember the flower bed incident when you were still sixteen and he was, like, seven."
"Yeah." Alasdair's huge brow rose in surprise, wondering where this conversation was going.
"Arthur says that he was the one who stomped on the flowers and then put your soccer" a yelp. "sorry, sorry, football ball in it to frame you. He says it was revenge for having pulled his hair the day before. That is all."
Alasdair's eyes widened, and he found a gape etching itself on his face at the thought. Their mother had yelled at him so bad, he'd been sure his ears would fall off. And then he had been grounded for the next month. So Arthur had been the one to do it? Evil seven year olds were not to be underestimated, it seemed.
The gape soon melted into a frown, and he bit his bit worriedly.
Some random stranger couldn't have known of an event that personal. So Arthur was most definitely there. And that meant... he was definitely hurt, and definitely needed him now.
"Arthur, I'm gonna kill you when I get there. Sit still until then. I'll be there soon. Bye." He muttered, and shut the phone without even waiting for a reply.
By the time he'd put the phone down on the table next to him, a cigarette had found itself between his lips. He anxiously eyed the paper with the address on it again, and reached for his lighter.
Grey smoke rose into the air and didn't fade even when a gust of wind came in through the door along with Peter.
Author's Notes:
Original version made more sense in the plot aspect of the story, but this version makes a lot more sense in the realism aspect of the story. Damn. Dilemma.
Yes, the principal is Rome and the receptionist is Germania. Lol.
The way Arthur names his files comes from how I name my files. I write the first thing that comes to my mind at the moment and it becomes the title. Funny, but very inconvenient when I have to search for a file OTL
Cameos of two of my favourite youtube videos appear in this chapter. I had to, sorry. Can you spot them? C:
Oh, and Google is surprisingly unhelpful with information on police operations. At least I tried changing some things with the original version. BLAH DON'T HATE MEEE ;A;
Um yeah, that's it. Please review? I'm too uncreative right now to ask you to review in some overly flamboyant fashion, so yeah. Reviews are adored as much as I adore you C:
