A/N: Thank you Buckhunter and GuestM for reviewing!
Chapter 2
After hanging up with Leon, Arthur managed to find a nurse and get an ETA on Lancelot's tests. She assured him they'd be taking him soon. Usually "soon" meant something different to medical professionals, but this time the orderly came in not much later and wheeled Lancelot out to go have some scans. Arthur and Merlin stayed in the ER to wait. When he was brought back, his tests were clear, no ischemic attack. They finally discharged him, and Merlin called for an Uber to take them home.
Arthur texted the gang to let them know Lance had been released and was all good. Then he climbed onto his bike and rode off, but not back to the bar. He went to Smithy's Auto Shop. He rode his bike right up to the open garage door and parked, then dismounted. Music was blaring from a stereo inside, and a pair of legs were sticking out from underneath the chassis of an old, jacked up Camaro, one foot bouncing along with the beat.
Arthur came to stand over them, lips quirking. The music was so loud they obviously hadn't heard his beast of a bike roll up. He waited a few moments, simply enjoying watching, then finally gave that bobbing foot a light nudge with his boot.
They gave a start and shimmied out from underneath the car. "Arthur!" Gwen exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
"Not surprising," he replied with a grin.
Gwen scrambled to her feet and rushed over to turn the stereo off. Her jean overalls were smeared with grease and oil stains, and black curls had escaped her hair plait around her face in frizzy wisps. "What brings you here?" she asked, hastily wiping her hands on her overalls, which did nothing to remove the grease stains.
"I was actually hoping I could borrow your car," Arthur said with a guilty grimace.
Gwen's brow furrowed. "Oh."
"I need a lower profile than my ride," he explained. "You can keep my bike as collateral until I bring it back."
Gwen shook her head with an eye roll. "As long as you're not planning on driving it across the country, I suppose it's fine."
"Just in town," he promised. "I need to do some recon for something."
"For one of your causes?"
"Yes."
Gwen nodded and fished a set of keys out of her pocket. "Treat my girl like you would your own bike," she warned before handing them over. "Just because I have a body shop doesn't mean I want to be hammering out dents or anything."
Arthur nodded seriously. "I promise."
He hesitated, always wanting to say more to Guinevere but never knowing what. She too looked slightly awkward standing there, waiting for him to say something else or say goodbye.
"Alright then," he finally said. "See you later."
"Okay. Bye."
Arthur backed up a few feet before turning to walk away.
Gwen's car was out on the street, a classically restored yellow Beetle. It wasn't as inconspicuous as a plain sedan, but it also wouldn't scream "biker gang" should anyone spot it on the street. Arthur climbed in and started the engine, then drove to Leon's place to pick him up.
Leon had been with Arthur the longest, the two of them having gone to prep school together. He was Arthur's first lieutenant in the Knights. Unlike Arthur, who had family money to support himself and the gang, Leon's father had gone to prison for tax evasion and they'd lost everything. Leon hadn't even been able to graduate from the prep school, as his family couldn't pay the remaining tuition. He ended up getting his GED on his own, though, and he was a real asset when it came to tracking down information through the Internet.
Leon was waiting on the sidewalk under a street lamp that was just flickering on as the sun set, and Arthur pulled up to the curb to let him in. "Here's the home address," he said, setting his phone in the vent clip to hold it up, his navigation app already pulled up and ready to give directions.
Arthur pulled back onto the street and made the first turn the phone's speaker called out.
"Officer Greelie," Leon began, "been on the Force for fifteen years but hasn't climbed the ranks. Either he's content to stay on the beat or he's got disciplinary issues that have prevented him from getting a promotion. Wife died a few years ago and he's been raising his son alone since."
They reached the cop's house and parked down the block. Arthur killed the lights and engine and then they just sat there in the dark, staking the place out. The neighborhood was quiet, not much to see. There was a small gap in the curtains of Greelie's house, and Arthur could see the cop sitting in the living room, getting drunk as the hours wore on. There was no sign of the kid.
"You sure about this guy?" Leon asked.
"I'm sure."
Any abused kid knew to stay as quiet and invisible as possible when the abusive parent was on a drinking binge.
They watched Greelie continue to drink and look agitated. At one point he even threw the television remote at the TV when it didn't change the channel, but that was the extent of the violence they could see that night.
When morning came, a school bus came to pick up Tim on the corner, and Arthur started up the Beetle to follow, find out where the kid went to school. Once they had that information, Arthur drove Leon home for some much needed sleep. He was exhausted too after the all-nighter, but he'd promised to return Gwen's car, so he headed to the auto shop next. Gwen lived in the apartment above the garage, so when Arthur found the work doors closed, he headed up the side stairs to knock on her door.
She opened it a moment later, looking slightly flustered. She wasn't yet dressed in her usual work overalls, and Arthur found himself taken by her visage: dressed in khaki shorts and a floral blouse, her hair cascading down around her shoulders. "Arthur," she said in surprise.
He shook himself out of staring too long and held up the keys. "Your car, returned in the same condition it was borrowed. Thank you."
"Oh. You're welcome." She took her keys and leaned around the back of the door to reach across the counter. "And here are yours. Was your mission successful?"
"Too soon to tell."
"Let me know if you need anything else," she said.
Arthur smiled. "I will."
He lingered yet again, both of them fidgeting awkwardly.
"Would you like some coffee?" Gwen blurted.
"Sure," he immediately replied before thinking.
Gwen stepped back to let him inside. Arthur had never been in her home before, and he roved his gaze around, taking in every little personality of the place. It was different than the shop downstairs, which was grungy and full of tools. Up here there were more feminine touches—lace kitchen curtains and a sunflower tablecloth. But there were also model cars on shelves and shiny hubcaps hanging on the walls. Remnants from when it was Gwen, Elyan, and their father living here.
Gwen poured some fresh coffee into a yellow mug and handed it to Arthur. He smiled his thanks. The awkwardness lingered, and he covered his inability to come up with anything clever to say by taking a healthy swig of the brew.
"Delicious," he said, wincing at the lameness of the statement.
Gwen gave a nervous smile in return. "So, how are things?"
"Good. You?"
"Good."
Arthur took another long drag of the coffee. "I guess I should be going. Thanks again."
"You're welcome."
Arthur bid Gwen a farewell smile and then headed out, mentally kicking himself for being such a dunce around her. He was normally quite charismatic with people—though he had to admit he was usually in a position of authority or command, even with his guys. He didn't quite know how to interact with someone, particularly a woman, on a more equal footing.
Later around lunch time, Arthur returned to Tim's school and hung out at the fence around the field, casually watching the kids at play. He was rather noticeable, and the kid he was looking for hesitantly made his way over.
"Hey," Arthur greeted. "How's the arm?"
"Fine," he mumbled.
"I'm Arthur. You're Tim, right?"
The boy looked at him through the wire fence warily.
"Listen, Tim, I know how hard it is to stand up to bullies. That's what your dad is, and what he's doing to you is wrong. I can help you put a stop to it. You just have to go over and tell one of your teachers what's happening."
Tim shook his head. "I can't. My dad's a cop. All his friends are cops."
"That doesn't mean he should be allowed to get away with it," Arthur pressed.
Tim backed away, still shaking his head. "I can't."
With that, he turned and sprinted back toward the playground
Arthur sighed in frustration. It wasn't the kid's fault. He was terrified and didn't think he could trust the cops. Which, Arthur had to admit was probably true. But he wasn't just going to give up.
So he headed to the District Attorney's office next to see Morgana. She was poring over case files at her desk; there was no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for those trying to put them behind bars.
Arthur knocked on her open door to announce himself. "Hey, got a minute?"
She looked up and smiled. "For you, brother? Always."
He came in and sat in the chair on the other side of her desk. "There's this kid being abused by his dad, but he's too scared to say anything because his dad's a cop."
Morgana frowned. "How do you know about it?"
"Saw him in the ER yesterday with a broken arm."
"Did he tell you his father did it?"
Arthur huffed. "No, but I can tell when something's not right, Morgana."
"Right," she quickly assuaged, then sighed. "But without evidence or a witness statement, there's nothing my office can do."
"Couldn't you start an investigation?"
"Based on what? Your gut instinct? I'm sorry, Arthur, but we need something concrete to act on. We can't go accusing a cop without proof."
"Just because he's a cop doesn't mean he's above the law," Arthur snapped.
"That's not what I meant," Morgana replied calmly. "No one is above the law. But the law demands burden of proof. I'm sorry. Find me something solid to act on and I will of course do it."
Arthur clenched his jaw in consternation and stood up. "Thanks."
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I wish I could do more."
"I know."
They all did.
Back at the Apothecary, Arthur sat at a table with a beer, brooding over the situation. His guys gave him space, knowing to let him stew in peace. All of them except Merlin, who slid into the chair across from him and started tearing a napkin into one long strip. Arthur gave him a warning look.
"You're not used to problems you can't solve with brawn and bravado," Merlin commented.
"I haven't tried the brawn yet," he muttered, though he knew physically confronting a cop was a bad idea. Still, sometimes bullies deserved a taste of their own medicine.
Merlin started tying the napkin into a knot. "We'll think of something. No problem is unsolvable." He held up the knotted napkin and gave both ends a fervent tug, undoing the knots in one smooth movement and letting a completely square and whole napkin roll down like a curtain.
Arthur rolled his eyes. He had no idea how Merlin pulled off that shit, and his response was always that a magician never revealed his secrets.
"Yeah, well, I think this one's knots are made of metal. Can you do that trick with a twisted piece of chrome?"
Merlin smirked as though up for the challenge, but then the door swung open loudly and the bar quieted as a uniformed officer stormed inside. It was Greelie. Arthur got to his feet as the man spotted him and marched over.
"You come near my son again and I will bury you," the cop threatened.
"And if Tim comes to harm again, I will bury you," Arthur rejoined fiercely.
Greelie sneered. "Best watch your step, son. You know those bikes you ride are dangerous."
Arthur's nostrils flared at the veiled threat, but he held his tongue. Greelie glowered at them for another moment before turning and storming out.
"That's the bastard hitting his kid?" Gwaine said, holding his pool stick like a bat. "He needs a good beating."
"He's a cop," Lancelot argued.
"I have to say, Arthur," Leon put in. "I know the guy doesn't get a free pass, but we need to be careful."
"We need Tim to say what's going on," Merlin said.
"Good luck getting close to him now," Elyan huffed.
"So what are we going to do?" Percival asked.
Arthur's lips thinned. "We don't back off. We do what we'd do for any kid—be there and wait for him to gather his courage to speak out."
So they gathered up their stuff and headed outside, only to pull up short as they found all of the taillights on their bikes shattered.
"Son of a—" Gwaine cursed as he crunched over broken glass to get to his ride.
Arthur clenched his fists in fury. It had to have been Greelie. But Gaius didn't have security cameras around his place—something Arthur was going to have to remedy now. So, again, they lacked that burden of proof.
"Ok, now I want to rip this guy a new one," Percival growled.
"I think there's a box of replacement lights at Gwen's shop," Elyan said. "And if not, she can order them for us."
It was an irritating detour, but they needed to get them fixed. Lancelot went back into the bar to get a broom so he could sweep up the glass, but Gaius insisted he could do it and the rest of them should get going. If he was just trying to get rid of them so the cops didn't come back to his establishment, Arthur wouldn't blame him. No one needed that kind of trouble, not even the innocent.
They started up their bikes and pulled onto the road to head to Gwen's auto shop. But no sooner had they all gotten up to speed that sirens went up behind them. Arthur looked in his side mirror and frowned at the cop car's flashing lights. He had a bad feeling about this, but he nevertheless signaled to pull over, the rest of the Knights following suit. The car slowed to a stop behind them and none other than Greelie stepped out.
"Driving with broken taillights," he tsked. "I'm gonna have to write you all tickets."
"You're the one who smashed them!" Gwaine snarled.
Greelie canted a cool look at him. "It's dangerous to make accusations without proof."
"We're on our way to a shop now to fix them," Leon said more placatingly.
"A likely story," Greelie replied and pulled out his pad to start writing tickets.
Arthur was livid, as were the others. Authorities abusing power was something none of them could stand. Arthur and the Pendragon Knights made a life of standing with abuse victims who had to stand up to their authority figures, but in this situation, they were the powerless ones.
Unless they wanted to risk getting arrested or having warrants put out on them. So even though it burned Arthur's pride to sit there and take it, he gave each of his guys a subtle look to not start something. Most of them remained quiet, but Gwaine and Elyan were visibly fuming at the edges.
Greelie wrote each of them a ticket, finishing with Arthur. "Have a nice day now," he said with a smug grin.
Arthur crumpled the ticket in his fist as Greelie climbed back into his vehicle and drove off. He was going to get this asshole if it was the last thing he did.
The Knights resumed their ride to Smithy's Auto Shop. Gwen was surprised to see the whole lot of them, but her expression darkened with worry as they told her the story and Elyan dug out that box of replacement taillights.
"I know you've faced some pretty despicable people before," Gwen started, "but tangling with the law? That's like poking a hornets' nest."
"We're not the ones in the wrong," Arthur said staunchly.
"I know that, but they could make real trouble for you. Just…please be careful."
Arthur knew Gwen just cared about her brother, and maybe for him too. But Tim was the one they really needed to worry about. Greelie could make life hell for them, but Tim was already living in one. And Arthur could handle whatever was thrown their way as long as they saved that boy.
