A/N: I LIVE HELLO HI. I'm kinda happy with this chapter… another cliff hanger though? took me a while balahsuhjashjak and no, I really don't have a good idea on how things work with the police. MEH I hope you enjoy ^^

They, apparently, were leaving as soon as the interview was over. Allistor practically dragged Arthur by the hand out of the hospital, running and cackling like a banshee with his other two brothers running out behind them, Peter running further behind than any of them. Allistor was obviously pretty pleased, and it was a shame for Arthur that his happiness was paired with two rather long legs that made their run outside to the car more of a stumble as he struggled to keep up. Cailean wasn't with them, and he'd assumed it was because he wanted to stay with their mother. It seemed that they were both staying behind and they'd join them in Scotland when Eily could leave. The Brit had so many questions, but truth be told he didn't really want to spoil his brother's good mood with enquiries after Eily and their father.

"I'm not even packed!" Arthur managed to choke between gasps for breath as they reached the car and Allistor released his hand. "And since when do any of you drive?"

"Don't worry about that! Y'can borrow some of my clothes for a while when we get there," was Allistor's sure reply, and Dylan's other response to his other question was pulling a set of car keys out of his pocket and jangling them in his face with a smirk on his own.

"But your clothes will be far too big!" the blonde protested, but the Scot was already opening up the boot of the car to reveal a large packed bag. Arthur bit down on his lip, forcing himself to look and eventually turned himself to the packed bag. As he expected, it had clothes thrown in it- and around it, some hanging out, with what he could make out to be shampoo bottles and a comb jammed in un-uniformly. It was all topped off with a pair of his brother's chewed up Vans on top of the bag. He felt himself frowning and becoming slightly uneasy just at the un-orderly way it was packed.

"Fine, whatever," he waved a dismissive hand and sighed, "I guess I can get some more when we get up there." His clothes weren't really that important, and he'd rather not take himself back home. That made him think another question… if they'd all arrived at the hospital via ambulance, how had the car gotten there? And with all of their things too? One of them must have gone home to get it while he was in the interview, probably Dylan since he was the one in possession of the keys.

"Great!" Allistor slammed the boot of the car shut, making his way round to the front and he was closely followed by Arthur. Dylan was already sat in the driver's seat, looking like he was in his element, with Peter sat on the passenger side. He was eagerly bouncing up and down in his seat. None of them really looked too concerned, but maybe they were good at hiding it.

"We ready then?" the Welshman asked as Allistor opened the door to the backseat, letting Arthur climb in before him. He nodded, and in response Dylan started the car.

Peter craned his head round as Arthur and the Scot sat, each of them looking to him as he looked round. The youngest grinned a crooked smile, before he looked to Arthur and mumbled something that could have been, 'jerk,' under his breath. The Brit raised a bushy eyebrow at what appeared to be his new nickname in the way of Peter.

"Tell me about Scotland again, Scottie."

"Ah, Scotland, th' most beautiful place on th' earth and it has fucking beautiful lasses too…"

Arthur let himself relax into the seat as Allistor launched himself into a story completely biased on how amazing his country of birth really was. The way he described it seemed to have a passion behind it, it was obvious in his voice he was proud of where he was from. Dylan was smiling along and nodding to his story as he tapped his fingers against the wheel as he was drove, occasionally muttering curses under his breath about every driver on the road that wasn't him. Something about just being with them seemed right to Arthur, and as far back as he could remember they didn't always get on well; but they were family. And maybe the Scot was right; they were going to stick together this time.

The next thing he knew, Dylan was gently shaking him awake. Peter was in the seat next to him, the Welshman sitting over him and both of them looked equally concerned. It was brighter than it was before outside, he'd lost track of time completely since last night but now he guessed it must have been late afternoon. Arthur blinked a couple of times in the new light, and the first thing he noticed was that there was a peculiar lack of a Scotsman by his side. He guessed they must have been well away into their journey to Scotland now, as he didn't recognise where they were at all.

"What's going on now?" he questioned Dylan, who was still looking at him in concern. His face was pale, his eyes a deep green in contrast. Peter, however, was staring out into the distance of the car window; and soon Arthur caught on why. He heard it before he realised, an angry screech of a voice that seemed fairly far away, tainted with that strange accent that his big brother possessed.

"They've done what?!" he was shouting. Arthur was now looking in the direction Peter was, until Dylan caught his face and turned it back to him.

"I don't mean to alarm you, brawd," he spoke gently, "Allistor's on the phone to someone from the court…"

"And?" Arthur didn't think it was possible to move so fast and he jerked into an upright sitting position. Usually someone from the courts wouldn't bother him too much, but given his current situation…

"You're a heavy sleeper, you know? I'd have thought we'd have woken you..." he shook his head slightly with a light chuckle, his golden hair drooping messily into his eyes, "apparently, your father has had a claim… or something," he suddenly looked confused and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, "someone is going to bail him out… they're saying that he wouldn't have ever laid a finger on you."

There was suddenly a thump on the side of the car, and Allistor came back into view but he still had his mobile pressed against his ear. His face was a perfect picture of anger, his lips curved upwards as if he was snarling. The bump they'd heard was his fist coming into contact with the vehicle.

"Well fucking fix it!" the Scot snapped dismissively, his tone venomous. His choice of language suggested that it wasn't someone too important he was speaking to, but it was Allistor they were talking about…

Peter had shied away a little, leaning more towards Arthur and Dylan in fear of the explosive temper of Allistor. The Welshman, being completely rational and in the knowledge of his brother's temper, remained outwardly calm.

Allistor hissed as noticeably whoever he was talking to hung up on the other line, and he made a sudden movement as if he was about to throw his phone as far away from him as he possibly could, but then – thankfully – he tucked it in his pocket and in its place pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"What's happening brawd mawr?" the Welshman piped up. Allistor didn't answer at first, instead concentrated in fumbling about his other pockets for a lighter.

He waited until he'd lit his cigarette and had taken a couple of desperate draws on it before he answered. His face immediately lost its shadow of fury as he exhaled a thick billow of smoke.

"He's been released," he muttered, seeming suddenly sheepish. Dylan nodded. "Someone is bailing him out."

"Do we know who?"

"Nae… but at a guess it's someone who he's friends with," Aliistor flicked at the end of his cigarette, looking Dylan over before he moved his gaze to Arthur, who met it without flinching. "Any ideas?"

They were all cut off with the sound of a harsh buzz of a mobile phone, but Arthur was the only one who felt it as well as heard it. He fished around in Allistor's pyjama shirt pocket – he'd forgotten it was there, that he'd taken it with him as he left for the hospital the first time.

On the screen flashed up a message that made his blood run cold. The sudden panic must have been plain on his face, and he felt his body shudder slightly.

"Hand it over," Allistor demanded. Arthur did so immediately, and all three of them, Peter included watched as he suddenly dropped his smouldering cigarette down to the ground and crunched it under foot with a sickly sounding crunch.

1 New Message Received: 16:07

From: Dad

Been let out, who'd have thought eh? When are you coming back home? We need to have a little… chat.

Brawd mawr – big brother (Welsh)

Brawd – brother (Welsh)