For Queen and Captain {|Hetalia Human AU|}

One (not-so)big happy-ish (jailed) family

Arthur blinked at the man in shock for a moment before feeling a nervous smile snap to his face. "Lovely to meet you, sir!" The man, Allistor, looked at him closely. Arthur was trying to keep from openly reacting to meeting his uncle in a jail cell.

What was he doing there?

What would he think of him, having this be the first impression?

More importantly, what would happen to Francis if Allistor found out who he was? Arthur couldn't believe he was still caring about that damn frog, even after he got him stuck in jail. He felt his eye twitch as Allistor, his uncle and possibly his olny living relative spoke again.

"Lad? You alright? You look like somone kicked you between the eyes..." Arthur cleared his throat, shaking his head quickly. "I'm fine, sir. Just fine." Allistor grinned. "Well, lovely to meet you, Just Fine." Arthur made a gentlemanly facepalm. Arthur could hear his uncle laugh merrily as he shook his head. "You're good company, lad. What be your name?" Arthur pused a moment, scrambling for something, but the man spoke before he could.

"Ah. Rather not tell. I wouldn't have at your age, if I were caught in a jail cell. Luckily, I wasn't caught that often, though, eh?" Arthur slowly peeked at his drunk uncle, who was back to humming the shanty absently, rocking slowly to the music and an unseen beat in his head. It was silent for a few comfortable minutes until Allistor spoke up.

"Tide would be coming in about now. It's a good time to sleep.... You should rest, boy. Wherever they put you after tonight is probably going to take some energy to get through. I won't touch ye." Arthur hesitantly nodded, moving back to lay on his side on the cot, peeking at his uncle. It couldn't hurt to learn a little...

"If you're a seaman, then why are you in London? Awfully far from the ocean..." the red-headed Scot laughed quietly. "I'm here for my nephew. My... sister's son. That's it. Damn. I saw the bloody boy and he had this bloody French accent and was living with a Frenchman. Blast. The boy's been corrupted, though. He's French past anything his birth could've given him, eh? Damn shame, that. I was... I was going to take him on my ship and we'd sail away..." Arthur tuned out as the man started rambling.

He'd come for him. And he'd wanted to take him away. Arthur turned away from his uncle, trying desprately not to cry over his pitiful situation.

He failed miserably. He couldn't hold the sniffle in as a tear escaped, sliding down his temple to rest against the cot.

"Lad? You alright?" Arthur nodded, shivering as he took a deep breath. "Y-yea. I'm fine." He could almost hear Allistor shrug. "If ye say so, lad..."

Arthur cried himself to sleep that night.

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"Oi! up, lad!" Arthur cracked an eye to find a stone wall in front of his face. He rolled over carefully, finding that Allistor's coat had been placed over him while he was sleeping. Alistor himself looked bright and creery that morning, whistling on and off and chatting with the guards about security techniques.

"Ah, good! We've got a place all set up at the orphanage, then, but it's across town, so it'll be a while, mister... What was his name again, Tom?" The man who'd taken Arthur in cleared his throat and Arthur panicked as his silence went to pot.

"I think it was Arthur something, Kirkland, I think. Huh. Funny, he and the Scot share a name!" Arthur buried his face in his hands as he felt his uncle's eyes on him.

"Lad?" Arthur hesitantly looked up. his uncle's bruises looked even worse in the light, but he shied away from the look on his face, not the wounds.

"Yea... you were at the tavern. You came forward first... Holy Mary, lad. You've got your father's eyebrows, even." Arthur stared in horror, shaking his head, unable to form words. He watched as his uncle's eyes flicked over the bruise on his face briefly, face hardening. 

"Oi, boys?" The policemen glanced up from their chat. "Yea?" Arthur watched in horror as Allistor smiled at the men. "You know that nephew I told you about? I think I found the right one!" Arthur finally managed to choke out a few words.

"N-nay! I swear, it's the other! They've got my name wrong, I swear!" Allistor gave him a firm look, and Arthur could practically see his mind working out exactly what was going on.

"Who're you protectin', lad?" The officers were now watching the two like it was a professional play.

Arthur kept his face straight. "No one. I'm just telling the truth." Allistor huffed. "I never thought I'd see the day, but I found a Kirkland who's a bad liar. Tell me, did they give you that bruise?" Arthur shook his head quickly, seeing the quiet, storming anger under his uncle's appearance of total calm, and dreading what havok that storm would release on Cook.

"N-nay, and you needn't care, because I'm not Arthur Kirkland!" One of the police officers, Tom, apparently, raised a hand.

"Yea, you are. The tavern owner said it himself when we went by yesterday. You wouldn't have that three hundred pence you stole from him, by the way? He would be delighted to get it back, you see." Arthur growled and the men shuddered.

Allistor only laughed. "That sounds like your mother, lad. Now, come clean, who're you protectin', and who gave you that black eye? You have to tell me, ye know, or I'll have to assume." Arthur kept his gaze on the floor.

"Nay. Francis can't go back to the orphanage." Allistor nodded slowly. "I'm thinking that's the French boy?" Arthur nodded at the ground.

"Is he the one that framed you?" Arthur nodded again, neck stiff. He listened as his uncle hummed to himself a moment.

"So you must have a reason to protect him.... Orphanage, you say? What would you do if this Francis boy was safe from this orphanage?" Arthur shrugged and answered, very quietly;

"I'd go with you..." Allistor harrumphed and Arthur looked up as the coat was swept up and about the tall man's shoulders, coming to calf length. He was intimidating at full height, and Arthur shrank down a bit as his uncle's feirce green eyes, mirrors of his own emerald pair, met his.

"Well, then, we'll just have to get that boy out of trouble, won't we?"