Chapter 3: A Gentleman's Philosophy on Morality and Sacrifice

The two weeks before the business trip with his father passed slowly. Arthur spent a lot of time out of the house, avoiding Francis. He was annoyed at Francis and his seemingly perfect life and wanted to berate him, but he also cared about his opinion and wanted to make him happy. Like how Walt didn't like to be wrong, Arthur didn't like being confused or caught off guard - being controlling was a Kirkland trait it seemed.

The few times he gave in and saw Francis or couldn't avoid him easily, Arthur was short and picked fights. For some reason Arthur had yet to understand, Francis kept coming back despite Arthur's rude demeanor and tendency to call him names - nothing too bad, his favorite being telling Francis that he was slimy like a frog.

He had hoped distancing himself from Francis would help him forget about any urges or tendencies he had would rather not have. He quickly realized the little crush he was forming was like a damn bursting, and it became harder and harder to ignore the parts of him that were so easy to in the past. For once, he was excited to spend time with his father and was hoping that a trip out of the country could put his head back on right. At least Scott was tagging along and there was a chance that it wouldn't be completely boring. Or not.

The trip itself was as much as a bore as Arthur originally expected. Luckily, he packed some books and his notebook for writing - what a better place to write than a new one. His father embraced Arthur's quiet nature as he carted him along, immersing himself in the idea that his son was a budding intellectual that would make the family proud.

Arthur buried himself in books embracing his new identity wholeheartedly except for when he talked with the two people he promised his dad he would meet with. Although the meetings were brief and stilted, lots of lecturing at him from his perspective, their words stuck with him and set him down new mental paths.

On the second day abroad, Arthur was required to meet the companies contracted lawyer, Bash, at a cafe near the hotel. When Arthur was given directions about where to go, how to act, and who he was meeting with the night before he scowled, despite all attempts to be respectful towards his father and his father's wishes. Working with the Swiss always felt weird, but at least the company was working with a lawyer and not banks.

The meeting itself went better than what Arthur expected. Although his dad told him to prepare questions about Bash's job and experience, he never came up with anything, hoping that arriving early would give him the chance to think of something.

Luck never seemed to be in Arthur's favor these days. Walking into the small, tucked away cafe, he made eye contact with a scowling blond man, who immediately stood to greet Arthur.

"You must be Arthur," Bash stated putting a hand out for Arthur to shake.

"And you must be Bash. Nice to meet you." Arthur took his hand noting the almost too tight handshake. Normally, he'd consider such an overtight handshake suspicious and overcompensating, but maybe such a handshake was needed to establish dominance when one looked as young as Bash. The Swiss man could not have been much older than Scott if at all, but his presence held the age of Arthur's father.

Arthur got himself tea as he settled in for what he expected to be a long afternoon. Any time spent with someone similar to his father was bound to exhaust him. They spent a while talking in pleasantries; then, switched to talking about Bash getting to where he is. Arthur was right - he was as young as he looked. Arthur's tea was empty, but he continued to fiddle with the cup while Bash's second cup of coffee was finished and forgotten.

Bash leaned back and peered at Arthur, taking in the young boy in front of him. "You need to have conviction."

Arthur furrowed his brow at the shift in conversation to advice. "Conviction?"

Bash crossed his arms and nodded a few times, still looking at Arthur intently. Arthur spun his empty cup between his fingers, maintaining the itch-inducing eye-contact.

"Every person needs to have values they stick with. Your father is a good man, and I'm sure your family is teaching you about worthy values, but you need to have you own convictions that guide your decisions."

"You're talking about morality?"

Bash scoffed. "I'm a lawyer, not a philosopher." He shifted his weight into a more relaxed manner. "You need to decide what will form all your choices. For example, my family always comes first. I would gladly go against other agreements and people for my sister. No one messes with her.

"Other people have flimsier convictions and values. Sometimes it's hippeeish like being nice to all or doing what you want always, but the most successful people have their own stronger convictions. I suppose it can be like forming a morality for yourself in a way if that is easier to think of.

"The point is, you have to come up with what are basically rules for how you act and make decisions. Then, when you are tempted to do selfish things or make wrong decisions, you fall back on your rules. You learn the world isn't always about yourself that way. You sacrifice things that would be in your own favor for something greater - in my case family."

Arthur nodded along, but he gripped his cup tightly. If he, like Bash, were to put family first and family values first, there was a lot he would have to give up. Sure Bash was just talking about how he makes decisions based on what was right for his sister, but Arthur could make decision based on Kirkland values. He wasn't satisfied, but understood what Bash meant about being selfish and flimsy convictions making a weak man. He thought about the rules he grew up with, and then thought about Francis' family.

Annoyance filled him. Sometimes it was hard not to be jealous of how easy Francis had it compared to him. His family was so different, and he never had to sit in conversations like the one Arthur was having - telling him to sacrifice his own happiness for some greater familial good and that doing so would be more moral or some shit. Yet, maybe that was what made Arthur better. He would be more equipped for the real world, more moral, more successful. At least that's what Arthur decided to settle on. It was much better than the other options.

He found an opening to end the conversation with Bash and leave. There wasn't much else to learn from the Swiss man. With one last tight handshake and a reminder to remember the conversation, Arthur was on his way back to the hotel room and Bash had turned to get his sister before leaving.

When he got back to the room, his father was gone, but Scott was there. Arthur was initially annoyed when he found out Scott also wanted to come on the trip, but so far he served as a good buffer between Arthur and their father. Sometimes it was nice to be able to sink into the background while the others talked. It gave him more time to think and brainstorm and write.

Scott stood quickly and walked to a chair from where he had previously been by their suitcases.

"How was your meeting thing?" Scott asked quickly.

Arthur considered his brother's behavior. "Okay."

"Only okay?"

"I don't think you'd find much of it interesting."

Scott nodded acknowledging Arthur's correct assessment. "Did you at least learn anything? Get something out of it?"

"Actually yeah. He gave me some good life advice." Arthur sighed when Scott gestured to continue. At his brother's insistence, Arthur summarized Bash's advice.

Scott hummed, "So convictions."

"Yeah, and, I mean, we grew up with a lot of them."

"You gonna pick and choose?" Scott asked, looking past Arthur at their luggage.

Arthur furrowed his brow. "Pick and choose?"

"You know, like decide what is the most important to form your decisions or just pick a few to follow in general."

"I hadn't thought that far into it."

"Well, some older brother advice, mom and dad have been great at teaching a proper moral compass and how to be acceptable. I think it's best to stick with that." Scott looked straight at Arthur. His words were spoken in a way that felt like there was more meaning to them than given. Arthur for the life of him couldn't figure it out, but his skin itched as if his brother was peering into him at all his secrets and did not like what he saw.

"Never doubted it," Arthur lied.

Scott continued to look at Arthur. "Really?"

Arthur paused briefly then went to sit on the bed. "Yeah, why?"

"You're writing seems to tell a different story."

"What writing?" Arthur spoke too quickly.

Scott rolled his eyes and gestured to their suitcases. "No one is an idiot. We see you scribbling in those notebooks all the time. But poetry? Arthur come on." He went to sit on the edge of the bed next to his brother who stiffened.

"Nothing wrong with poetry. A lot of great Englishman wrote poetry."

"That's - That's not what I meant, little brother," Arthur felt just as small as the pet name sounded. "I mean, I will never get the appeal of poetry and get that you're quirky with all your alternative interests," Arthur winced at the phrase, "but after looking at some of it, you might be getting too alternative?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Scott sighed. "Look, I'm not mad about anything, and I know we don't always get along, but I'm your older brother, and I care a lot about you." When Arthur didn't respond, Scott continued, "You've seemed more distant lately, and I wanted to see if I could figure out what was wrong."

"Scott, you don't even like reading, and you want to analyze my amateur shit?" Arthur accused.

"I'm not an idiot. Also, the bits of the fantasy story thing you have in there were interesting, and that's coming from me. It's just some of the poems you have are a little… questionable."

"Questionable?" Arthur was going to make Scott say anything on his mind. If he wanted this confrontation, he was going to have to do it all the way.

"Come on, Artie."

"I really don't understand. You're going to have to spell it out," Arthur pushed.

"You seem unhappy in a lot of it."

"I'm sixteen." Arthur raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Scott raised in hands in defense. "And I am not one to call out typical teenage angst… Some of them still..."

"Scott, if a poem is confusing you, you just need to read more often."

"Fucking," Scott growled and ran a hand through his hair in attempt to maintain his composure. "Okay, fine, you have a long poem about some pretty boy, and don't lie to me, I know what pronouns are."

Arthur froze. Well fuck. "I don't remember which one that is. Remember anything else about it?" Feigning forgetfulness may not be the best thing considering it was a pretty detailed, lengthy thing about urges and forbidden love and a confident man who changed the world around him. Wow, maybe Arthur needed to be called out for writing like a love-stricken puppy. At least Scott wasn't quoting things he wrote about the family and not being able to fit in, or God-forbid anything inspired by what Francis told him, especially since it inspired tons of angsty shit about familial responsibility and being a black sheep.

Scott was scrutinizing Arthur. "How do you not remember? You wrote it?"

Arthur shrugged, putting sixteen years of pretending into one solo performance. "There's a couple of notebooks in there full of stuff, and even more at home. Only some of it is actual effort. I do a lot of exercises, you know, emulating other famous poets and poems, testing different techniques, and stuff like that. I'm not going to remember it all."

Scott nodded along to Arthur's words, falling for the lie. "Exercises?"

"You know, I'll take a poem by any famous poet and redo it or change the setting or style, or I'll just take a famous poem and change the point of view. Normal stuff."

"Normal…" Scott's chuckle turned into a sigh. "Sometimes, I can be an idiot."

"You don't have to tell me that." Scott smacked Arthur's arm.

"I was just worried you were going through some shit and getting confused."

"Like I said, I'm sixteen. I'm totally going through shit."

Scott smiled at the joke. "Well, if you ever want help. I'm around."

"No offense…"

"Hey, I'm great help." Arthur didn't meet his brother's eyes. "Okay, I shouldn't have gone through your stuff, but you gotta admit something has been up with you, and Francis has been around."

"What about Francis?"

"Really?"

Arthur shrugged regretting his question.

"The guy is a flaming queer. It could rub off on you. For a second, I thought he did something to you."

"No one's done anything to me."

"Well, then you need to work on your game and get yourself a girlfriend." Arthur didn't laugh at the joke although Scott grinned as if he did. "I was worried you were questioning yourself. Girly guys like that can do that to you, you know. It happens."

"Happen to you?"

"To Walt."

"What?" Arthur gaped.

"Don't tell him I told you this, but it's important, okay?" Arthur nodded, not knowing if he could find his voice. "A long time ago when all of us were younger, Walt came into my room saying he wanted to talk but not to mom or dad. He started talking about all this crazy stuff about how he liked this girl Claire but also was attracted to this other boy in his class and he was thinking that he might like the boy more and stuff. He was only a little younger than you, and was really confused by the whole thing. The guy actually thought he had a crush on a guy from his class.

"I told him he could get over it, but he wasn't too sure. I convinced him to tell mom and dad. It was a whole thing. In the end, they helped him get over it, and he didn't have to do too much. They know he's a little quirky, and let him be quirky, but encouraged him to pull back on some other interests that were influencing him wrong. Instead, they got him to put that energy towards productive things like science, and it's done great things for him.

"You were too young to remember, but there were tons of really long conversations about it. He was adamant things couldn't change at first, but mom and dad laid out all the consequences of his options. I mean think about it: he used to like Claire but was starting to like some boy in his class more. They laid it out for him all the trouble that comes with same sex stuff - the way the world treats you, the moral implications, the possibility of disease, and the way its career sacrifice like who would hire someone like that?

"Everyone knew it would be hard to get passed, but it's possible. I mean Walt has dated a couple of really nice girls and is heading towards a great career as an animal scientists. He would have never been taken seriously if he went down the wrong path there. He was just lucky mom and dad had the patience to walk him through it, a lot of parents don't."

Arthur sat very still absorbing the information… or just attempting to. It was a lot to take in at once. How does someone go from feeling trapped and alone to knowing that someone in his family went through something similar, but seemed to be over it?

Scott watched Arthur take in the information intently. "What I think really helped him was reminding himself of everything you can't do when you are like that. Not only is it dangerous, wrong, and harmful to your career, but no relationship like that could ever be normal. You can't have kids or a family when you are older, and if you let yourself go to far, what girl would want you knowing you have that kind of past, you know?"

Arthur swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yeah." He never really thought that far into his future. It was as if the future was non-existent for him. After so much trouble, it seemed best to image that he had no future at all and would never grow up. He hated the idea that all the decisions he was making now, would affect his future in ways that could never be mended. He never thought about having kids - he was a shitty one and would hate a kid like him, but sometimes he thought about how he could be a better parent than his and really help a kid and their friends… but maybe not.

A hand on his shoulder, took him out of his thoughts. Scott squeezed his shoulder briefly and gave him an encouraging smile. "I know it's a lot, but I thought it would be a good example of sticking to a conviction like Bash said. It also is a story that shows how family can help, you know?"

Arthur nodded silently, squeezing his hands together to prevent them from shaking.

"I wanted you know that although everyone may seem perfect, we are far from it. Everyone has issues they have to deal with and get over. No family is perfect, and everyone has to help each other."

"No, its umm, it was helpful. Just a lot to take in at once. I'm going to uh going to shower."

"Okay, just remember, everyone feels like they don't fit sometimes."

"Yeah, I just need a second to think," Arthur spoke while getting up trying to hide the breathlessness in his voice. Scott nodded in understanding.

He grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom quickly attempting to look as put together as possible. With the door closed behind him, he leaned against it and pulled harshly at his hair biting his lip hard.

Gasping, he pushed himself to the counter trying to control himself. Breathing loud and steady, he looked up to face himself in the mirror. His skin was blotchy and eyes watery, wide, and panicked. His hair stood up awkwardly at where he bunched and pulled it. His arms trembled, muscles jumping under his skin in a morse code pattern telling him to run. His jaw twitched as he whispered to his reflection, "You can do it. If Walt did it, you can do it too." He clenched his jaw and let a tear escape. "No one knows. It's okay. No one knows."

His glare pierced his own skin. He hated himself. God, he hated himself. He pushed himself off the counter, turned on the shower and paced trying to expel the panic-induced energy. It was not fair. Everyone had it so easy compared to him. How did Walt get over it so easily? Arthur had been trying forever and it only made him feel worse.

Jitters ran through his body, pent up energy rushing under his skin yelling at him to run and escape - something he couldn't do. Wiping his head around the room, he grabbed a towel and pushed his face into the rough surface.

Screams became died muffles into the fabric as he let gravity pull him down to the floor, chest trembling at the exertion. He briefly lifted his reddened face from the towel catching his breath.

Scott had so read more than just a crappy love poem.

A/N: Yay! New chapter! I'm really excited about some upcoming stuff I have written.

Also, I have the flu and am missing a full week of work without pay, so trying to figure out my new money woes while healing and dealing with other problems will slow down my writing (I have up to chapter 6 written but this is supposed to be between 15 and 20 chapters, so we will see how much it affects the update schedule). Sorry guys.