Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or any Hallmark Movies. Or Lifetime Movies. Or any of the following: Apples to Apples, Sorry!, The Animals of Farthing Wood, Doctor Who, Monopoly, Pacific Rim, Princess Bride, SmartTV, Wizard of Oz, FaceTime, Facebook, Lego, or Youtube, etc.
Warning: Some profanity. Some stereotypes. Some OCs for sake of plot. Some inevitable inaccuracies (historically, culturally, and grammatically). More amateur adventures into languages I don't speak fluently! Joking about drinking games. Canada is tipsy and overprotective. Scotland sleeps it off. Reilley pitches a fit. Rhys connects the dots. Tex is apprehensive. Arthur is oblivious. And Alfred doesn't realize he's in over his head. Tarot Card: The Tower. PIRA. Special Housing Unit (SHU): solitary confinement in American prisons. Familial dysfunction junction...and Grym who plays on it all. Occasional potshots at Russia.
AN: Thank you for your reviews! I reread them often to keep me motivated! : DDD I managed to crank this chap out for you guys since I got such an awesome amount of feedback and interest. (Think good thoughts for me! Got an early morning exam tomorrow and Morning is my arch nemesis XD). Hope you enjoy the chapter and that you all have a great weekend! Let the avalanche fall!
Chapter 37: Poor Friend
Before Alfred could even get a word of alarm out; Arthur spun around at Sealand's cry, leapt up several steps, lurched forward and caught the kid-before the two tumbled down hard.
Which was pretty hardcore heroic in Al's book.
Alfred winced as Arthur's ankle hit against a planter box.
If it had been an Olympic event, Russia would've docked points for that.
There was a moment of stunned delay and then everyone sprang forward to assist.
While their group ringed around the two bushy browed blonds, Alfred glanced back up for any trace of Grym.
But he was gone.
Tex promptly set him down on his feet-no doubt expecting him to spring into action but…
Rhys already had it covered with the First Aid kit he carried in his man purse. Reilley and Arthur were calming Peter down with soft words and questions. Alistair was getting everyone to back off and give them some air.
And Alfred was just superfluous.
He studied the warning labels on his Lego Box-advising him to avoid swallowing the pieces.
It took a while before Peter stopped blubbering. His eye sprinklers went on for a bonus round when it was decided that he should go back to the manor with the rest of them since he was bruised and scraped up-his shirt and slacks had ripped during the fall.
Arthur looked pretty rough too.
Barbados promised they'd bring something tasty back for Peter.
It bothered Alfred all the way to the parking lot and into Mr. White's waiting car.
No such promise was made to Alfred and it was a stupid petty thing for a hero to get hung up over.
He was supposed to be horrified over Grym's assault of a little kid and instead...
He hugged his Lego box and tried to ignore the depressing sounds of Sealand sniffling and England consoling and Tex's attention focusing on them and trying to get them to laugh.
Well…
If Peter had hoped to eclipse Alfred's drama with his own...mission accomplished.
He was essentially forgotten.
England hadn't mentioned the absent booster seat even once and nobody checked to make sure he was buckled in safely.
Which was…
Good.
Yeah, it was good.
Alfred was a big strong nation. He didn't need to be babied...unlike Peter who Jet gave a piggy back ride out of the mall.
Arthur probably would've carried the kid out himself, but he was limping.
Not a lot...but a little…
And it must've hurt enough to make him cranky cuz he held Alfred's hand way too hard when they left.
The drive was uncomfortable since he didn't really know what to do with himself. Should he prepare to be interrogated over what he remembered? Or was he on his own?
Was his panic attack shelved because someone younger and more vulnerable than him took priority?
Or maybe it was the nature of their situations.
Peter was physically hurt-which ultimately was simpler to treat. It made him an easier problem to tackle and get out of the way.
Alfred was...screwed up in the...well...in the head…
Who knew when he was gonna get better? People were going to need breaks from him or they were going to suffer some serious burnout.
Still, the highlight of the ride home was listening to Mr. White ordering take out for them; they had such a long list of stuff! And the deadpan way he'd say "No" whenever the employee asked "If that was all" was just hilarious!
Arthur barely seemed to notice him as they ate-he wasn't corrected even once with regards to manners.
He accepted that the night was then his to do with as he wished.
Sadly, his plans were thwarted.
Not two seconds after crossing the threshold, he'd rushed to the Drawing Room ready to salvage his day chanting "Lady Lego Liberty!"
But just as he picked a great spot, his beloved Lego box was snatched out of his hands and set on a bookshelf out of his reach!
Arthur told him in no uncertain terms that that was the last thing they needed right now. And that he needed to change out of his nice clothes.
Sure Jet, Jake, Pippa, and Tex played Apples to Apples and Sorry! While Arthur and Peter had a discussion on the couch. But halfway through Monopoly, they grew more interested in watching the television than losing to him.
"C'mon Al, be a trooper" Tex muttered out of the side of his mouth, but Sealand had put on Pacific Rim and Al just couldn't resist poking fun at it. He giggled over how drunk someone would get if he took a shot every time the name "Mako" was called out…
Unfortunately, everybody was in Prude Mode and he ended up hurting Peter's feelings and got everybody irritated with him.
England snapped that if he didn't have anything nice to say…
He recognized a dismissal when he heard one, so he headed off to the kiddie TV room. His own personal SHU. He sat himself in the rocking chair, and tried to watch The Animals of Farthing Wood, but it was hella depressing and he had to switch it off.
He set a blanket down and took to coloring. Not in any of England's books. But on blank computer paper. Cuz he didn't feel like looking at anything that reminded him of England right now.
Stealing his Legos…
His caterpillar eyebrows probably demanded a sacrifice now and then!
He sniffled and slammed his marker down.
"Dammit" he muttered as it rolled under the couch.
He reached around for it but-
The unnerving moist feeling of someone breathing and GAH!
He snatched his hand back.
God! Grym could be so creepy!
He frowned and stuck his face near the gap to better glare at the dark space beneath.
"Ya know...that was really mean. What you did back there...Peter's just a stupid kid. You didn't have to hurt him."
And ruin his evening...and mine...
"...special...new friend...we watch out...for our friends…"
It was a little shameful...how much pleasure that gave him. Usually people came to his defense on account of politics or firepower.
To choose him...just for the sake of friendship...
"Thanks. But next time, don't be so mean, kay?"
There was a knock and the door opened.
His heart twinged.
Was Arthur coming to apologize?
For being mean?
"Oi Al, you...in here?" Tex asked.
Of course not.
"Oh! Uh, yup." He rolled away to face the door.
Tex entered with a disapproving frown, "All holed up here like a hermit when-"
It figured that that was the moment Grym chose to roll the marker back.
"¡Qué mierda!"
It was amazing how Tex could go from zero to freaked-out-of-his-mind in 2.1 seconds.
"The fuck is under there?"
While it was tempting to try and lie and say the floor was just sloped and "demonstrate" cuz he was sure Grym would play ball-this was Tex.
He deserved the truth.
"It's my friend. The one I told you about. It's okay Grym. This is my Big Brother Texas. He's cool-"
"Your friend who…" Tex swallowed "hides under furniture?"
"Yeah, he likes dark places" Alfred chirped.
"Oh?"
"Yup, and he likes eating chicken bones! He says they're almost as good as the real thing. Whatever that means. So we can make it a point to try and find him some in the next couple days, right?"
"...eats bones...kay" Tex adjusted his hat "Hey Al? Who else has met your...special friend there?"
"Just you, Bro! Grym's kinda shy. Aren't cha Grym?"
"..."
"Awww, come on. You're making me sound like I'm crazy and I'm just talking to myself. C'mon on out, won't you?"
"Al…"
"Oh! Right, right! The lights!"
He jumped up and raced around turning out lights.
"Al!?" Tex's voice got higher pitched.
"If it's too bright, he won't want to come out" Alfred explained.
Dude, they could put on a hell of a puppet show with the three of them.
Oooh! They could make a fort too! A good one! And maybe they could even play Truth or Dare or something!
Alfred beamed as one corner of the room got darker and darker and darker and a form started to mater-
"Oof!"
Tex threw him over his shoulder like a sack of flour and sprinted all the way down to the Drawing Room.
He burst into the room causing Pippa to gasp and slap Tex on the shoulder, "Jesus mon! Scarin' the daylights outta me."
"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! There-there!"
The Briton scowled "You only have one volume, don't you? And its: Earsplitting."
Arthur turned to glower at Tex as he carded his fingers through Peter's hair. The boy had his head pillowed on Arthur's lap and was studiously avoiding looking at Alfred.
Two bushy brows shot up as Arthur noticed him.
"Stop carrying him that way, you'll cause all the blood to rush to his head! Here Sweet, you can sit here with me" Arthur moved pillows away from his "unoccupied" side.
"Art...I really think-"
"Tex" Alfred murmured "S'okay."
"..."
"Tex?"
"Careful! Be careful you brute!" Arthur hissed as the Texan set Alfred down hard.
Tex's way of saying 'Fine. I'll keep a lid on it. But I don't like it one bit.'
Yeah. Until Grym made a good impression, it was best not to mention the boat. Or Sealand's accident. Or the...the...well...friendly stalking?
Arthur wrapped an arm around Alfred, "Now, Peter? Don't you have something to tell him?"
Sealand sighed and crossed his arms, but he did crane his neck to look up at Alfred, "I...I'm sorry Alfred. Arthur and Jet and...and everybody explained some stuff and...They said it wasn't that they were trying to-to "exclude" me...it was that they were trying to "include" you. You haven't really gotten any presents until now...and I think that's just...They...said we have to work hard to make sure you know that you're…welcome and..."
An awkward pause began and then Sealand sat up. He shuffled on his knees to turn around and face him. Suddenly he blurted, "Is that why you keep running away? You hardly play anything with us and you stick around Arthur all the time and you...run off and you hide and you're just…do you feel left out? So you just do your own thing? Huh? Is that it?"
"Peter" Arthur said warningly as he held Alfred tighter. His old man was smart to do so because Alfred's fight or flight response was urging him to run and avoid this uncomfortable conversation.
"I...I know how that feels" Peter admitted "I don't get included in any meetings and no one will recognize me as my own official nation. Hardly anybody knows me when I wait for you guys or for Sweden to finish talking with your governments...and-and-none of the staff really know you here, do they? It sucks. I'm sorry I...helped make you feel like that. Alfred?"
His heart made him uncomfortable and his brain focused all its attention on how his shoes were super cool. He clacked the heels and while they did light up...they didn't send him home...
He pressed in tighter against Arthur's side. Maybe if he pressed in deep enough everybody would stop looking at him.
Cuz he only wanted people to look at him if he was doing something incredible not when-not when...
He buried his face into Arthur's vest.
If everyone could just leave him alone for five seconds to "buck up." If they could just stop staring...
"There, there" Arthur murmured-pulling him onto his lap and stroking the back of Alfred's hair soothingly.
Hesitant fingers joined in-patting in a clumsy mimicry "I'm sorry I've been hurting your feelings...guess I am a Jerkland Jr."
Dammit.
He sniffled.
Dammit.
"I think he's crying" Peter remarked in a loud whisper.
"I think you're right" Tex replied candidly-not bothering to lower his voice at all.
"Damn you Tex!" Alfred choked out.
"Now, now" Arthur cut in.
"Quick everybody!" the Texan rallied "While he's incapacitated!"
Thus, Alfred suffered a somewhat humiliating (partially appreciated) group hug (during which Tex had the audacity to tell him: "Yup. You're not escaping this. It's happening. Feel that awkward love.")
Not long after that, England brought the Lego box down off the shelf and then Mr. Gray with some footmen brought in hot cocoa and cookies.
As "Princess Bride" played in the background and Legos were strewn across the floor, Alfred deemed the night as SALVAGED.
While the project wasn't finished by a longshot, they did succeed in creating the crown and torch and just about everybody snapped a photo with the "Accessories of Freedom!"
And maybe…
Just maybe…
Alfred even felt a teensy bit disappointed when Arthur took Peter off to tuck in bed and the evening wound down.
Arthur returned for Alfred-smiling as he picked him up, "Thank you for being so patient."
He semi-expected to be deposited in his own room, so it was a surprise when he was carried off to the kiddie room instead.
Arthur grabbed a blanket and settled in the rocking chair.
He rocked them a bit before he commented: "So you remembered that...woman."
Aw great...they were gonna have this conversation after all. He couldn't tell if he was glad or not that his earlier crisis was remembered.
"...yeah..."
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you."
"..." Alfred blinked in surprise-dude he was across the ocean!
He was squeezed gently and the blanket was tucked more securely around him.
"...not your fault" Alfred mumbled.
There was an awkward silence until-
"What do you remember about her?"
He shrugged a shoulder, "Some nice stuff she did and then...some...not-so-nice…"
"You remembered the cliff."
Alfred was held so tightly it almost hurt.
"...I remember looking up at the sky…" he admitted "it was kinda ironic cuz a day earlier, it wouldn't have been a big deal...I'd have just...flown away...but I couldn't...then…"
Arthur remained quiet though he seemed kinda tense.
"It would be...unheroic to resent what I gave up for them...so I don't...but...it does...make me kinda...sad…"
Damn. His voice broke.
And whatever dam of restraint had been keeping Arthur quiet broke.
Soothing nonsense was crooned at him while his back was rubbed and the chair rocked.
He appreciated the effort. Really. He did. Even in the face of how utterly it failed to soften the blow:
"She just didn't love me."
He repeated; though this time it came out resolutely rather than weepy.
It was good to accept what couldn't be changed.
"Alfred."
"S'free country. It's allowed. I just feel a little...I mean...not recognizing it till then! I mean...she didn't even know where I lived or what I ate when she wasn't there and-and...lots of stuff. Lots of...little stuff...I was just...stupid..."
"For being a child that wanted a family? I think not."
"..."
"We're here. We're all right here. Your family" Arthur declared almost forcefully-as if denial of that was nothing short of blasphemy.
"Gettin' all Hallmark on me ol' man?" he sniggered-waiting for an indignant response.
But Arthur didn't rise to the bait. It was kinda worrying the way his dad wasn't letting them fall into their bickering routine. It was a way to get comfortable again after someone said too much. But...green eyes continued watching him solemnly and Arthur repeated himself.
"Your family is here...for you," The man maintained eye contact-waiting for confirmation that his message had been received.
Alfred sighed and rested his head on Arthur's chest, "...kay."
Texas huddled nervously on his bed.
Goddammit.
There was no way he was gonna sleep tonight.
Creepy ass thing that lurked in darkness!
Great. Real great.
"Al! Why couldn't you make friends with something cute and harmless?"
There was a knock on his door.
Oh God. This was it.
His heart pounded as he slowly approached-he grabbed a vase off the dresser.
He took a deep breath and opened up-ready to strike!
Canada stared back in shock-eyeing the makeshift weapon uneasily.
"Oh..heh, heh. Sorry. Just a little..." paranoid "blown away by...how exquisite this vase is. Wanted a second opinion. Whaddyathink?"
"N-nice. Hong Kong could tell you...more about it. Your light was on and I thought..."
Damn straight that light was on!
"Got you...a slice of Orange Cake. I texted Spain...he said you were a fan."
Tex blinked. Was he...drunk?
His violet eyes were more than a little unfocused.
"Oh! Thanks. Cool. Al and I can share that tomor-"
Canada took a step back-holding Tex's dessert hostage, "I got Alfred his own dessert. It's in the fridge cuz he's sleeping: Peanut Butter Caramel Brownie."
The look he gave Tex could've withered stone.
"Oh...uh...Good. Well done, soldier."
He nodded, "...not a complete...that'd be horrible...just for you and not for…Je ne suis pas mauvais frère..."
Tex lifted the desert bag out of his brother's hands and sat down on his bed.
Canada followed him over-hesitantly perching on the edge, "Is...Al feeling better? I just...Je ne sais...got scared and he and I didn't know-"
Understatement. Canada had flat out froze.
"He's fine."
"Tex…"
Texas pulled the plastic fork out of its protective wrapping, "...he's hurting...but he'll be fine. Have no doubts about that."
"But-"
Tex shrugged, "He hasn't talked to me about it, yet."
Canada nodded, "When he does…"
"When he does...he does."
Canada frowned, "Non. What I mean is-"
"I know what you mean" he took a bite "This is good. Thanks again."
"Pleeease, Texas. You know he's not going to just open up and tell-"
"That's your problem. You fix it. I ain't your repairman."
"..."
Several bites in, Mathieu gave the down low about what went on in at the fancy dinner. How good the wine was, how delicious the food turned out, how much he missed Francis and wished he could join them, how drunk Alistair got…
Mathieu was quite buzzed himself; he was really friggin chatty and he kept floating in and out of of English. Thankfully, Tex's reawakening Spanish skills made most of Mathieu's comments discernible.
Tex banked that he probably wouldn't remember much of their conversation…
So why not feel out his brother's perspective regarding his own...situation with Al.
"Soooo," Tex asked "Hypothetical scenario: what's your stance on Creepy People? I draw a pretty hard line."
"Eh? Répétez, s'il vous plaît?"
"Ya know...People who follow other people. People who follow...little kids...around. And hide so other people don't notice them?"
Violet eyes widened and Tex realized too late that he'd worded that terribly. But damn, could Canada connect dots!
The Canadian's jaw dropped,"Mon Dieu! Al has a stalker!? Have you reported it? That is 'Criminal Harassment'! Is it a staff member? Does Arthur know?"
"...hypothetically-ness…"
"Is he alright? Is that why he was stressed? That's horrible! When did you find out? How long has it been happening? Is he safe? Don't tell me this isn't my business! I'll take an ice hockey skate and shove it up your a-"
"He says he's his friend and that it's okay!"
Which apparently was the worst thing to say because Mathieu flipped a biscuit and screeched: "That's how it happens! Don't you watch the news?! Or the Lifetime Movies?"
He sprinted out of the room with Tex on his heels. They made it down several hallways before the Canadian collided with Rhys.
"M-mathieu?"
"Al's in trouble! He has a stalker. He's in trouble. Do something! Do something or the bad man'll get him!"
"Looks like he hit the bottle pretty hard and has got...interesting things to say" Tex chuckled uneasily.
Alfred was gonna kill him for blabbing.
"Rhys!" Mathieu grabbed the man's shirt in emphasis.
"Yes, yes" Rhys soothed. "I'll get to the bottom of that at once. Tex could you call down for some strong tea for Mathieu?"
"We don't know if they know! If they're covering-"
"There, there bach."
"Well ain't that just perfect?" Reilley groused as he struggled to heft his passed out Scottish brother. "Another looney for my wing, hm?"
Rhys frowned, "Why'd you bring him here? His room-"
"Cuz I don't want him to make it to the kitchen so easily-eating us outta house and home cuz he's got midnight munchies!"
"Leave him there. I'll take him to my room if it's such a concern."
Reilley abruptly dropped his brother (who grunted as he hit the ground).
"Eire!" Rhys hissed as he sat up-gently pushing Mathieu off himself.
"You-you-you all just leave me downstairs when I get drunk!"
"You start ranting about the glory of PIRA and you get violent."
"You don't do anything nice for me!" Reilley argued indignantly.
"That's not true. We put the child safety locks on all the pantries and electrical sockets. So you don't experiment with things you shouldn't."
"Tch." Yeah. These were Al's relatives alright. Where he inherited all his weirdness from...
He'd seen firsthand on the night they celebrated England's paternity that England had a tendency to strip when plastered.
Yeah…
Wished he could unsee that.
"We have to protect Al from the bad man!" Mathieu announced yet again.
"From the who?" Reiley demanded.
"Texas said he follows Al around and hides so we don't notice. He wants Al to know him as a "friend"!"
Rhys helped Mathieu to his feet, "I'll see to the matter once I've escorted you to your room, alright?"
He slung one of the teen's arms around his shoulders-Tex took the other.
"Fine. Ignore me" Reilley called after them. "...I'm leaving him in the hallway!"
"Nos da!" Wales replied.
"Oíche mhaith!" The door slammed.
"...Cadal...sàmhach…" was murmured drowsily from the ground behind them.
Rhys stopped-his eyebrows knitted together, he looked back, and assured, "I'll come back for you Alba!"
He took a deep breath, gave Tex a level stare, and stated "We drop Mathieu off at his room, we go alert Arthur to his claims to prove they have no foundation, and then we come back and help Alba."
Considering how dishevelled Rhys was looking, and the somewhat desperate glint starting to show in his eye-Tex agreed.
By the time, they managed to scrape Matt off at his bedroom-they were exhausted and knocked harder than necessary on Arthur's door.
The Briton opened the door with a particularly nasty scrowl on his face.
"Have you no respect for the late hour?"
"Sorry Arthur, but Mathieu is delusionally concerned that a man-"
"Oh, him too? Yes, yes" Arthur stared at Texas a moment, pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered "That's right. Texas, you were complaining about being disturbed at night by someone with a limp. Correct? I didn't check the roster tonight. Sorry."
"Uh...it's...not a big deal. I don't wanna cause any employees trouble or anyt-"
"No one is scheduled in any of our personal wings to clean during the night shift" Rhys cut in.
"Hm. Well, we'll just tell the staff not to go exploring when they feel amorous or-"
"They know that. I emphasize that during each seasonal orientation. There's a quiz at the end."
"Yes, well, thank you Rhys" Arthur muttered tersely "Sorry Texas, we'll figure something out...tomorrow. Good night."
The door clicked shut.
Texas scuffed the heel of his boot against the ground, "Well...let's go grab Scottie and then-"
Rhys snatched Tex's arm, "What's this about a man with a limp?"
"I...I just heard someone...limping around the last few nights."
"Outside your bedroom?"
"...yeah?"
"What time of night?"
"...late?"
"Witching Hour late?" Wales demanded.
"..."
Tex had a pretty strong feeling now that Gimpy was Grym.
"Someone with a limp" Rhys muttered to himself. "Someone following Alfred...someone following a child...And Alistair keeps getting the Tower tarot every time he does a reading...and the boat...Reilley's consulted his runes but not one of them turns up as guilty...because...they're not guilty...because it wasn't...one of..."
Tex licked his lips.
"Why were you up so late?" Rhys demanded.
"H-huh? Uh, Matt wanted me to eat my dessert."
"Matt woke you up?"
"..."
"No. He didn't. Did he? Which means that your light was still on. Why?"
"Youtubing?" Texas offered weakly.
"Oh really? And what were you watching?"
"Uh...um...that thing with the other thing with the...cats...kinda tired now. Gotta go-"
"Were you afraid to go to sleep?"
"..."
"Because of whatever it was dragging itself along outside your bedroom door?"
"I think the real question here is: what do you think it is?"
"Nothing good" Rhys answered. He checked his watch. "I don't want Alba left in the hall should it be what I fear it is. But before we depart-"
He delivered a series of rapid knocks on Arthur's door again.
Footsteps stormed over and the door was wrenched open, "Wot now?!"
"Have Alfred sleep in your bed" Rhys ordered.
Arthur rubbed an eye irritably, "He is."
"Good. I think we have a malignant entity here."
"Wot? No. I sealed the grounds-"
"Then it was sealed in or...is something...worse than…I need to see the tapes" he murmured in realization.
"Thought you already watched them all?"
Hazel eyes widened, "I was looking for all the wrong things. I was so focused on the other children's behavior I…" He stared into the room at Arthur's bed "give me the spare key to the surveillance room. Now."
Arthur ran a hand through his hair, "Ask Mr. Gray-"
"No. No...changed my mind. I need your skeleton key."
"Wot?"
"I'll need it. I can sense it! Get it! Now!"
Arthur shuffled off grumbling to himself.
Tex watched uneasily as Rhys shifted from foot to foot-getting antsy.
Arthur returned shortly and set a key in Rhys's hand.
"Albion? I said the skeleton key not the spare-"
Arthur frowned and crossed his arms, "Not there. Maybe Scotland has it. You know he doesn't have any qualms about riffling through my things."
Rhys swore and turned on his heel.
"Is someone embezzling again? Do we have an angry Brownie wanting compensation?" Arthur asked-face solemn and a bit melancholy.
"I'll let you know more once I'm certain."
"Right. Right..." Arthur sighed.
"D-daddy?" a high voice questioned from the depths of the bedroom. "Where'd you go?"
"I'm here love, don't worry" Arthur closed the door.
Tex turned to see Rhys already at the far end of the hall.
"W-wait up, Snobby!" Tex called after him.
Sorry Al. A promise was a promise, but if this thing was dangerous...then Tex was just gonna have to spill the beans.
"Time to get up!" a sugary voice blared.
Alfred hunkered down into his warm cocoon of blankets.
"Come now, Sweet." Arthur chuckled giving him a nudge, "Come on now. It's a special morning. I've just received word that the Royal Family wants to do FaceTime with us at 10!"
"In the morning?" Alfred grumbled. Well, whoopdee-flippin-doo.
"Yes, pet, isn't that lovely? Such a treat. I set out an outfit for you on your bed. Now quick, quick. Brush your teeth. Comb your hair."
Alfred sat up and frowned.
Arthur couldn't figure out how Sticky Keys worked, but knew how to set up FaceTime on his SmartTV? Weird.
The Briton bustled about as if he was walking on air.
His devotion to royalty…Alfred just couldn't get it.
He slowly trudged into his room-cursing the cold air for giving him goosebumps.
While he was dressing, Arthur scared the bajeezus out of him by popping his head in.
"Nearly done? We need to think of a way for you to thank them for those lovely gifts they got you. Since you haven't penned any Thank Yous, yet."
There was a hard edge of disapproval in that tone there.
"..."
"What they did for you was very considerate. And I will have you show them the same consideration in return."
"Yeah, yeah..." he tucked his shirt in.
"Here" Arthur fixed Alfred's tie and straightened his suspenders. "Perfection. Now: Teeth. Hair. Shoes."
"I know!"
Funny to think, yesterday he'd craved Arthur's attention and today…
Well, today...it was a mercy to escape Arthur's overzealous clutches. Though the gifthorse came from an odd source: Mathieu. The Canadian had a hangover and Arthur had to deal with him.
"Really Mathieu," Arthur tutted "I'm surprised at you. Overindulging like this. You're usually so respons-"
Alfred rubbed an eye as he wandered downstairs-hoping to grab a bite of something before he had to make nicey-nice. He couldn't really say he felt rested at all; he'd had a lot of disjointed dreams the previous night involving snow and ash and shadowy pathways and someone begging him to turn back.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end which signalled-
"Grym? You there?"
The shadow darkened.
"Yesss…"
There was a metallic clink as something was tossed beside his feet: a skeleton key?
"Hey, where'd you get that?"
Geez, if he was found with this people were going to think he was a thief!
"Quick...look...while he isn't...here…"
One long dark claw scratched against the door before retreating into the shadow of a pedestal holding a glass sculpture.
"I thought that was an office? I'm not s'posed to-"
"Important...your father is...up...to something…"
"Hey! You're spying on him?! Dude not cool!"
"Watching...for both our sakes…"
Still...
Alfred reluctantly picked up the key and opened the door. His heart beat faster as he closed it behind him.
"Look...there...quick…"
Grym gestured to Arthur's laptop which was perched on the desk-in its snooze mode. A screen saver for Doctor Who was bouncing around on it.
A serious twinge of foreboding flitted through his being, as he approached and tapped it awake.
Dammit, he had a real weakness for snooping. But 7 times outta 10, it usually benefitted him and allowed him to better protect his people. Espionage was one of the main reasons his country won the Revolution and he never forgot it.
But it was really uncomfortable staring at the password bar and typing in: M1ntbunNy!
It was impossible not to learn it with Arthur spending so much time with him and not bothering to turn away or ask Alfred to leave when he logged in.
It was better to think Arthur was just careless than that his old man trusted him not to...
He bit his lip nervously and frowned at the man's stupid background.
He still had that insanely inappropriate picture on his Facebook too. Poor kid. Geez, he kept waiting for Arthur's account to be suspended on account of it. But the place was dragging its heels-probably on account of his being a personification.
"...see...yet?"
His stomach flopped. Grym seemed awfully eager. Russia got that way when he delivered bad news to him. Maybe...he oughta just leave...tell Arthur everything and-and-
"Workin' on it."
Sure enough, there in the taskbar was a minimized window for British Airways.
His eyebrow raised curiously and he maximized the window and-
Wha?
He scanned it.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Blue eyes widened.
No…
No, it had to be some kind of mistake.
"Yesss...now you see...we…always watch out for our...friends...yesss?"
Alfred's bottom lip trembled.
Should've known.
He shouldn't have bought into a single ounce of that whole bleeding heart 'We're a family' schpiel.
"Welcome here my ass" Alfred grit out.
It shouldn't have been surprising; given what a pain in the butt Alfred had been the past few months, let alone the last 24 hours.
But seeing it there in front of his very eyes...
Departure Time set for December 27th.
The day before Arthur's Winter Ball thing.
Oh it was fine for Alfred to join them on Yule, Christmas, and Boxing Day. But a ball? Oh no. Alfred just wasn't polished enough for a ball.
He knew it.
They knew it.
Arthur knew it.
...should've just been upfront with him.
Instead, he'd been tricked...
He stared hard at the screen.
It was from the U.K. to the the U.S.
Single ticket.
One way.
So...they'd ship him back to the States and probably have Tex head back over to Spain.
And everything would be all rosy for everyone...but him. Cuz everyone else would still be off on their own holidays and he'd be...
Clearly, for Arthur...the novelty of having his son back had worn off. And he was ready to restore his life to the order, elegance, and routine that he'd known before.
Alfred swallowed hard, "You were right. He was up to...something alright: He's sending me away."
"Poor, poor friend...come with usssss…"
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