Work Text:
Artemis absently drummed his fingers on the table as he read a book, his breakfast nearly untouched in front of him. Butler sat across from the table, drinking his morning coffee; occasionally looking over at the young boy to check on him.
It was a slow morning, which was an unusual normal now, but with his mother’s mental health in a more stable state, Artemis couldn’t risk plotting anything out in the open.
He shifted in his seat and sighed, frowning slightly at the page he was still on.
“Are you alright, Artemis? You’ve been reading the same page for the last five minutes.” Butler’s voice cut the silence and the slight tension in the air. It was odd behavior for the young master, he would have finished the book by now.
Artemis’ frown deepened and he closed the book with another sigh. He wasn’t really reading the book, more of staring at the page and hoping that something could catch his interest.
“While I am glad to see my mother out and about, I find myself to be quite bored,” he said, looking out the window to the well-manicured gardens.
Butler nodded knowingly and finished his coffee in a single gulp. He could tell before the young boy came down for breakfast that something was wrong but didn’t want to bring it up so soon after getting up. Artemis took longer than normal this morning to come down, which was a rare event, he was very punctual, and had little to no interest in his breakfast, which he always ate.
It had been almost a month since the ‘remodeling’ and the return of Angeline’s sanity, and during that time Butler had noticed a slight change in Artemis’ behavior: the young boy, though seeming happy at his mother’s return, was growing restless. This only meant trouble and Butler could smell it.
Artemis, of course, also noticed this in himself during the past weeks. It was quite a conflict he faced: continue to be the perfect little boy that his mother saw him as or risk being discovered? He knew that he was quite a good liar, but for some reason it felt wrong to lie to his mother about what he was really doing; however, doing nothing was going to slowly drive him mad. Perhaps it wouldn’t count as lying if his mother never found out. He could live with that.
He stood, rather abruptly and adjusted his tie, looking at Butler with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Follow me, Butler. I have an idea.”