Chapter 17

Arthur finally found Peter pestering Patricia as she did her homework outside. Knowing Peter needed a firm hand, Arthur didn't hesitate to get straight to the point.

"Peter, I know you've been messing around in my room," he said, leveling his best and scariest glare at his pint-sized cousin. Impervious, Peter looked up at him with total adoration.

"You came to find me! Are we going to go to the park again together?" Peter asked.

"I'm serious, Peter. Where's my book?" Arthur demanded. Patty glanced between the two relatives with unease.

"Is something wrong, Arthur?" she asked. Patricia didn't really have any friends at World Academy, and while it was kind of strange, Peter was really the only person with whom she spent any time outside of class. She was bullied herself, but she tried to look out for the kid as best she could.

"Yes something's wrong, and Peter knows all about it. Don't let his innocent act fool you. He also denied it when he sold pictures of me to the gossip rags last year!" Arthur accused heatedly. Peter just smiled at him.

"But Arthur, you're so cute when you're sleeping and taking your bubble baths. The whole world deserved to see!" Peter defended. Arthur's large eyebrow twitched and he realized he was getting nowhere.

"Urgh—stay out of my room. I loved that copy of Hamlet. If I see it pop up for sale on your stupid website, or if more of my things go missing, I'll…I'll…"

"Take me to the park?" Peter offered, smiling at his older cousin's annoyance. He loved riling up Arthur. He loved attention period, but especially attention from Arthur.

"I'll tell everyone that you still wet the bed!" Arthur threatened in a low voice. Peter was silent for a long moment, and then his bottom lip began to quiver. Feeling sorry for him, Patty gently pulled the boy into a side hug.

"It's okay, Peter. It's not that big of a deal," Patty soothed. Upon seeing the big, hurt tears welling up in Peter's eyes, Arthur instantly felt a little guilty. Peter was always embarrassing him or doing ridiculous things to get his attention, but Arthur had never stooped so low as to try to embarrass the boy back. Even if it was just spilling his secret in front of a nice girl like Patricia, Arthur felt guilty.

He sighed, and his arms uncrossed.

"Stop crying. I won't…I won't tell anyone that. But Peter, you have to respect my privacy," Arthur insisted. His eyes still watering, Peter flashed him a huge, watery smile. The smaller boy lunged forward, squeezing Arthur tightly around his hips.

"I knew you'd never do something so mean! You're too wonderful! That's why I'm going to marry you when I grow up!" Peter enthused. Rolling his eyes, Arthur tried in vain to detach the boy from his midriff.

"Peter, it was cute when you were four, but this is just getting weird. When are you going to stop saying such ridiculous things?" Arthur complained. Like a little leech, Peter wiggled past Arthur's hands and hugged him once more, nearly knocking the breath out of him, before letting him go.

"I just love you more than anyone! I know what will make you happy. I'll find your missing book! I'm quite the detective, you know. Mummy says I'm very good at sticking my nose where it doesn't belong," Peter bragged. Arthur rolled his eyes again and Patty giggled.

"Right. Well, whenever you feel like fetching my book from wherever you've hidden it, I will be grateful for its safe return," Arthur said dryly. Then he shot a questioning look at Patty. "Is he bothering you? I can watch him awhile if you need to get some studying done."

"He's not bothering me at all. Peter and I are friends, aren't we Peter?" Patty asked with a smile at the little boy. He smiled back and returned to his seat at the table beside her. The bell chimed for class and Arthur glanced fretfully at his wristwatch.

"My next class is—"

"Across campus? Room 312?" Peter offered with a smile that was only a little less creepy than Ivan's. Perturbed by the boy all over again, Arthur adjusted his backpack and frowned.

"…right. See you later, Patty," he said.

"Bye Arthur! I love you!" Peter shouted, far too loudly. Nearby students cast them amused looks and Arthur flushed red in embarrassment. As usual, it felt like nothing he'd said to Peter had sunk in, but he could only hope their little chat would deter the boy from crossing the line with his invasive behavior.

As Arthur was walking to class, Yao and Ivan fell into step beside him.

"Do you think he'll stop now?" Yao asked. Arthur flashed Yao a long-suffering look.

"I doubt it. I'll try giving his mum a call, but she can't control him either. There's something wrong with that child. I swear there is," Arthur grumbled. Yao just smiled.

"He is lonely. No brothers or sisters, and he is smarter than all the other kids his age. He probably feels like you understand him," Yao said wisely.

"I don't care at this point. He's a total weirdo," Arthur complained. Ivan snorted.

"And this surprises you? He is related to you, da?" Ivan teased.

"Oh shut it. I'm perfectly normal!" Arthur insisted. Yao and Ivan shared an amused glance.

"It really might not have been the kid," Ivan said, his smile still carefree. Arthur shifted a bit uncomfortably and grimaced.

"Alfred got all worked up over nothing. I appreciate you two keeping me company, but I assure you this nonsense is all Peter's mischief," Arthur insisted. Yao seemed to agree with him, but Ivan merely kept smiling.

"There are some sick fucks in this world, Arthur—ones far less innocent than your little cousin. Do not worry. I will watch you very closely until Alfred returns," Ivan said cheerily. Arthur swallowed a bit uncomfortably, thinking that Alfred's plane couldn't return fast enough.

Yao gave him an understanding pat on the shoulder.

"I know it is unsettling having him hulking around you constantly, but you get used to it after awhile," Yao said. Arthur laughed a little unsurely, and then felt a bit awkward when it was obvious Yao wasn't joking.

"Heh…right then," Arthur said, trying to dismiss the whole, strange situation from his mind entirely. He was certain it was all being blown out of proportion.

"Well, there's only one thing to be done," Peter said very seriously once Arthur had left with his friends. Patty glanced at him, a little afraid of what he might say. Peter seemed pretty normal and mature for his age until Arthur was involved. Then the kid could definitely be creepy.

"I'm a little afraid to hear what you're going to say, Pete," Patricia replied.

"Someone is messing with my cousin…and it truly isn't me. I have competition, it would seem," Peter mused. Patty sighed and went back to struggling with her math homework.

"I wouldn't get involved. You'll only convince Arthur that it is you, and then he'll be less likely to get help from the authorities when he might really need it," Patty said sensibly. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Patty, you didn't carry the two," Peter said absently. Patricia frowned at her work and then noticed the mistake Peter had caught with only a glance. She was terrible at this stuff. She was so distracted by nightmarish visions of failing yet another math test that she didn't hear what Peter said he was off to do. However, when she finally did look up to sheepishly ask Peter to check her work, the little boy was gone. Alone once more, Patty returned to her schoolwork with a sigh.

Peter liked to give his older cousin a hard time, and to a certain extent, he knew it was kind of weird. It was a game they played, though, and Peter knew deep down he'd never want to truly hurt Arthur. He just wanted to be his cousin's best friend, as they had been when they were younger. That was all. If someone was stalking Arthur, then he had no choice but to get to the bottom of it. He was the only one allowed to stalk his cousin, and this book thief was about to learn that the hard way.

First Peter had to secure some supplies. Being a fairly spoiled only child, he already had most of what he needed—expensive camera equipment and an amateur detective kit he'd requested for Christmas last year. He'd almost used up all the talcum powder in the kit, but he should have enough for his investigation. He'd need to stop by the small grocery store on campus to get some cocoa powder.

Knowing that Arthur would be in class for the next two hours, Peter collected what he needed with almost an hour and a half to spare. He went to the room Arthur usually shared with Alfred, which also happened to be the room that the Russian and Chinese kid had been assigned. It was likely this was the room where the book had gone missing.

Peter was well-versed in picking locks. Pulling a paperclip from his backpack, he set about breaking and entering. It took him a long few minutes, but eventually Peter heard the simple lock give way and the door knob turned with ease. Peter stepped inside quickly, but was careful not to touch the knob on the other side of the door. That was the first place he'd dust for fingerprints.

Before he did that, though, he surveyed the room. It was not obvious that the room had any occupants, due to Arthur being fastidiously neat and Alfred being out of town. The room was spotlessly clean, with the exception of two small duffel bags tossed carelessly onto a bed. Pulling out his magnifying glass, Peter set about pretending to know what he was looking for. In truth, he didn't know much at all about solving crimes, and his attempts to use the fingerprinting kit in the past had been less than successful. It mostly just created a large mess of powder and tape that his mother then had to clean up with a long-suffering sigh.

Peter, however, had all the optimism and confidence of a child, with no doubt in his mind that he'd find the vital clue and solve the mystery. He could even post his findings on his website, so that all would-be stalkers would know that his cousin was not to be messed with!

Peter played around with his magnifying glass a bit more and then snooped through the bags on the bed. There was nothing of interest in either of them with the exception of a big bottle of vodka and a rather scary looking knife in one, but Peter knew better than to touch either. Peter then attempted to lift a print off the doorknob, but used far too much powder and far too little delicacy.

All the while, the figure under the bed watched Peter's small feet patter about the room with a rather sinister smile, content to wait him out and sure in the notion that the plan did not have to be abandoned just yet, despite Peter's untimely snooping.

Alfred smiled softly as the wind picked up Michelle's long, dark hair and blew it about playfully. The water was far too cold to swim in, but the California beach was still beautiful. They'd finished their shoot for the day and were free to get lunch and enjoy the city before the completed their last day of shooting the next day.

"I miss this," Michelle said as he came up beside her.

"You don't have to be without it, ya know. I think special places can heal people," Alfred said. Michelle glanced at him, perhaps a little surprised. Alfred noticed she was no longer wearing all the heavy makeup, and he thought her natural beauty was far more flattering.

"I'm just tired. I want to live by the sea and create my art and make all my jewelry out of seashells," Michelle said wistfully. "At least, that's what I wanted to do when I was a little girl."

"I wanted to be a superhero. I had a name for myself and everything," Alfred admitted with a grin. Michelle smiled at him in amusement.

"Why does that not surprise me? What was your secret identity?" she asked. Alfred sighed.

"Milk Man. Somehow I got it into my head that drinking milk would give me super strength. I'd grow huge muscles and my bones wouldn't be able to break. I thought it was the coolest thing ever until some neighborhood kids stole my sketchbook and saw all my crappy comics. They started saying I liked breast milk and gave me these horrible titty twisters every time they saw me," Alfred said with a self-depreciating grin. Michelle winced.

"Ouch," she commiserated. Alfred kicked a bit at a seashell near the toe of his tennis shoe.

"Yeah…kids can be jerks sometimes."

"But hey…you kinda did become a superhero. Not many people can say they've raised as much money as you have for anti-bullying."

"Eh, I really didn't do much. It was Laura's idea, and the counselor set it all up. I just showed up and took my clothes off."

"And all that milk did your body good. See? It came full circle, Milk Man," Michelle joked, lightly shoving his shoulder. Alfred laughed and shook his head.

"Now I know why superheroes don't tell people their secret identities. You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" he asked.

"Nope!" Michelle said cheerily. They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, just watching the waves roll in, thinking separate thoughts. Michelle's smile had slowly faded, and when she turned to look up at Alfred, her expression was sad again.

"I never said thank you…for standing up to my ex-manager for me."

"You don't have to thank me. It's what any guy would have done," Alfred said.

"No, I don't think so. I was a bitch to you and your friends. I didn't deserve any help or understanding from you," she said. "I've been so messed up for so long that I don't even remember how to be a good person. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

Alfred casually looped his arm around her slender shoulders, giving her a gentle hug.

"You know, if you wanted a great example of being a nice person, I know just the person you could copy," Alfred said with a smile. Michelle looked up at him a little warily.

"You're going to say Matthew, aren't you? Don't you start, too. Every other word out of Francis's mouth is 'Matthew this' and 'Matthew that'—I know he's great and all, but I'm not exactly on his good list. Somehow Francis can be forgiven, but I'm still the evil boyfriend-stealer," Michelle complained bitterly.

"You gotta admit, you started off the year playing the part pretty well," Alfred rebuked gently. Michelle shrugged off Alfred's arm and walked closer to the tide, hugging herself and seeming to Alfred to be very vulnerable just then.

"I know I've hurt people…and myself. Even if you say you don't care, sometimes it's hard not to be the things people say you are," Michelle admitted. When she turned to look at him again, her expression was fierce and angry. "I mean, if they're going to call me a slut no matter what I do, just because of how my body looks, why not? Nobody cares about my art or my personality. I'm just tits and legs and ass."

"Your boyfriend didn't think so," Alfred replied. Michelle winced at his words and turned away again, hugging herself more tightly. When she spoke, Alfred suspected she was crying.

"I used to be happy and innocent. I didn't think like this. I trusted people. I believed in myself. I don't know what happened…I don't know how to fix it."

"Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. And you aren't broken, Shell. You're scared and sad and lost, and really far from home, but you aren't broken. I can scare off jerks that give you trouble, and I can help you make friends again, but nobody can miraculously fix your life. It's not that simple. At least…I think that's what Arthur's been trying to tell me. Heh, sometimes I don't always listen when he lectures me."

Michelle huffed in amusement and wiped at her tears.

"A part of me knows that the pills and the drugs and the sex won't fix anything. It's just scary thinking about facing myself without all of that to…numb me, I guess."

"If you let us, you've got friends that will help you. Me and Arthur and Francis…and I bet Mattie, too, if you'll give him a chance," Alfred said quietly. The wind picked up powerfully and scattered a few of the white-washed gulls, the only other guests to the long stretch of deserted beach.

With her white, gauzy top blowing in the wind and her hair fanning out against a backdrop of ocean, she looked like a lost angel. It seemed as though the visit to the beach had been almost like an emotional baptism for her. Michelle felt cleaner, stronger, and a little more at peace with herself.

"Yeah, I guess I do. We're not little kids anymore. I think it's time I stopped acting like one. I've been acting like a stupid little girl. My love…he would have wanted me to be a strong woman."

Alfred beamed at her, and if she knew him better, Michelle would have spotted the mischievous twinkle in his sky-blue eyes.

"That sounds great and all…but don't be in a rush to grow up too fast. We're still young enough to do really stupid stuff—like this!" Alfred barreled forward, caught Michelle off guard, and easily hoisted her up on his shoulder. She squealed in protest and laughed as he carried her into the freezing water and chunked her into the salty sea. Shivering and cursing, she regained her footing and tackled him back into the water, all while Alfred laughed.

A few hours later found them drying off in the hotel room, nearly blue from their play and still shivering. Alfred's phone rang and he picked it up, smiling to see Arthur's name on the caller ID.

"Hey babe!" he greeted. Arthur voice sounded very tight when he replied.

"I don't suppose you've seen the news then. I was just calling to assure you that I'm okay. I'm staying—"

"Wait, what happened? Arthur, what's going on?" Alfred's voice was instantly concerned and demanding, and Michelle watched him worriedly. Alfred gestured at her to turn on the television. As soon as Michelle got it on the local news, the headline flashed sickeningly.

PRINCE ESCAPED KIDNAPPING ATTEMPT AT WORLD ACADEMY, D.C.

"Alfred, I'm fine. I'm a little roughed up, but Ivan—"

"WHAT?" Alfred roared, unable to control his volume.

"When…when are you coming back?" Arthur asked. His voice finally cracked and Alfred could hear just how scared he was.

"I'm going to the airport now, Artie. I'll be there in a few hours, okay? Are you with Ivan now?"

"Yes. My parents want me to fly home, but I was just released from the hospital and for now I'm at Ivan's house," Arthur said shakily.

"Put Ivan on the phone for me," Alfred said. A few moments later, Ivan's gruff voice came on the line.

"He is safe here," Ivan said calmly.

"I want him at the White House. I'm going to call my dad now and he'll send the security team. I don't know all the details yet but I know you probably saved his life. Thank you, man. If there's ever anything—"

"Da, da…I know who to call. Now call your father. Then call him back. He needs to hear your voice," Ivan said gruffly. The line went dead.

"Alfred, what—"

"Not right now," Alfred shushed, his fingers flying over the keys on his phone. His dad didn't answer, so he immediately called his mom.

"Hun, I saw the news, and Arthur's mother already called me. I called the hospital but he'd already left with the Russian kid." His mother was quick and to the point, as usual.

"Do you have a pen? I'll give you the address. Ivan's waiting for you to send security to pick him up."

"Okay, got one. Give it to me," Helen said briskly. Once Alfred had given her the address, he hung up with not so much as a goodbye and was already calling Arthur again. As he did this, he hurriedly threw clothes into his suitcase and changed into dry clothing. Michelle watched the news until the brief news report concluded by saying they still did not have much information on what had happened at World Academy.

"Alfred?" Arthur's shaky voice asked.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm sorry, but I had to call my mom and tell her where to go to pick you up. You'll be really safe at the White House."

"Okay. I should have thought about that, but I was confused after it happened and—Alfred?"

"Yeah?" Alfred replied, stuffing his feet into his shoes and nodding silently at Michelle in thanks when she handed him his wallet.

"I love you. It was horrible…the things he said he was going to do to me. I know I'm safe now but I can't properly rest. He...he was under the bed, just waiting."

"I'm on my way, Arthur. I love you so much, and I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

"What about the commercial?" Arthur asked shakily, though he seemed to be regaining his stiff upper lip. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"For a guy who reads as many big books as you do, you can be kind of an idiot sometimes. I could care less about the dumb commercial right now."

"Heh…always have to be the hero, don't you?" Arthur joked weakly.

"You know it, baby," Alfred said. He waited for Arthur to chastise him for calling him 'baby,' but the scolding didn't come. That's when he knew just how shook up Arthur must have been. "Just hang in there a few more hours and then I'll be there, okay?"

"Okay. Why is it I'm always getting into messes and you always have to jump in a plane to come save me?" Arthur asked, referring to when he'd asked Alfred to fly to France earlier in the year. Alfred smiled fondly, pausing for just a second to try to calm his racing heart and to convince himself that his Arthur was really okay.

"Heh…it's a bad side effect of dating a hero. Kinda makes you the damsel in distress."

"You're an idiot," Arthur said, though his voice was full of love.

"But I'm—"

"My idiot…yes, I know, love. For always."

Alfred brushed away the tears clouding in his eyes and smiled determinedly. He'd rent a jet if it meant he'd get home to Arthur faster. Arthur needed him, and he was going to be there for him…for always.

A/N: I have this ridiculous fear that if someone ever broke into my house, they'd be hiding under my bed. Now Arthur shares my paranoia. ;) More tying up of loose ends to set the stage for the end of October.

That's right. One funeral, one eating disorder, one break-up, one hook-up, and a stalker attack and we're only two months into the school year. Facepalm. I was at the hospital with my grandpa yesterday (just a UTI) and the lobby TV had this TERRIBLE soap opera on. In the thirty minutes I watched, it had amnesia, baby daddy drama, plastic surgery to assume someone else's identity, and (I kid you not) time travel. I was like "Oh look…the plot of The Senior Year."

Thanks for all the reviews and support, despite my long absence. And I promise, if there ever is a Senior Year…it will not involve time travel. I make no promises about the other stuff though, lol.