Chapter Text
Charles left that early morning—when the sun was just peaking through the trees of the camp. It was calm—cold—but calm. He got up, forgetting for a second where the hell he was and why his back didn’t hurt from sharp rocks or his horse putting half her body weight on him.
He turned his head to see Arthur, sleeping with a soft snore that made Charles smile fondly—His dirty blond hair ruffled from his sleep. Charles knew he needed to get up but something about the way Arthur looked kept him from leaving. Just for a little longer.
Eventually he got up and grabbed his wet clothes from the night before that sat on the desk near where they slept. He slipped on his dirt covered boots and swiftly got out of the tent. He looked around and it seemed like everyone was still asleep. He hated being a bother so he quickly but quietly got over to his horse and unhitched her lead.
Charles went up to his horse, Cinder. She started neighing when she saw him which Charles immediately grabbed a carrot out of the saddle bag of Cinder. She calmed down at that resulting in a relieved sigh from Charles. He grabbed the reins and walked towards the path out of this little camp—left over rain drops fell onto him and his horse from the trees. Charles clothes he had been wearing were stuffed into a separate pocket on his horse.
Just when Charles was about to hop on his horse, he heard footsteps behind him.
“Charles! You’re leavin’ already?” Arthur shouted in a whisper, he had ran after Charles in old shoes and a hand knitted cardigan of some sort.
Charles looked behind him, one foot on the stirrup of his horse, “Yeah, I need to go. Hard for me to linger in one place for to long.”
Arthur softened his eyebrows, his hair a little bit less of a mess than what Charles had remembered when he opened his eyes.
“So early, though? Aren’cha cold?” Charles couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t, because he damn well was. The long sleeve Arthur had gave him to change into hid his goose bumps.
“I’ll be fine. Im more worried about what you’re wearing.” Charles looked him up and down, resulting in Arthurs face feeling hot.
“You didn’t really give me much time to get all dressed up.” He smiled—embarrassed of his attire.
Charles returned his smile softly at the expression Arthur made, “Didn’t know you were such a light sleeper.”
Arthur went to say something but closed his mouth, unsure of if it was even worth mentioning.
“Guess, i’ll uh, be seein’ you.” Arthur spoke gently with his country accent that was by no means hidden from Charles. He nodded, stepping up onto his horse—looking down at Arthur.
“Sure, cowboy.” Arthur hid his face but the sunlight pouring from behind the trees didn’t do him any favors. Charles could see the little smile on his face dashed with a flushed expression. Charles stomach ached, but it didn’t hurt—Like a cat’s whiskers grazing his chest.
Charles waves to Arthur before turning his horse and heading out of the little clearing of the forest. Arthur watched as Charles went out further and further of his sight before he could no longer see him. This feeling piled to his stomach, making his heart race at the same time.
Arthur was well aware of the feelings he felt towards guys his age. He dated his fair share of girls, notable Mary—but that didn’t lead to anything but broken hearts on each end. He sighed, clutching his chest with a fist before slowly heading back to camp.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Dutch, Hosea and Arthur were at it again. Another storm had blown in a few weeks after the last one and this time it had caused damage to almost everyone’s tents and supplies. They were going to need a big job to replace all the stuff they lost in the storm—and Dutch and Hosea knew that.
Arthur had begged them to let him come along. They were skeptical at first because of the last time Arthur went to do a job but ultimately agreed since he wouldn’t be alone this time. Arthur grabbed his pistol Hosea gifted him his 17th birthday. He walked out his tent, but not before Dutch handed him a suit.
“What’s this for? Dutch, ya know I ain’t ever gonna need that—“
Dutch laughed, “Its for the job, son. We ain’t robbin’ no craft store.”
Arthur frowned. He hated dressing up for jobs, especially when he had to wear a suit. He always felt stiff. He hated the way it stuck to his skin. It was worst when he had to run, it was awful in all.
“C’mon kid. If you wanna come then hurry it up. We got a train to catch.” Hosea walked out of his tent in a nice suit, he was finishing tying his tie. He nudged Dutch’s shoulder with a sly smile.
“Need help?” Hosea’s eyes darted down to Dutch’s untied tie, he smiled awkwardly and nodded. Arthur rolled his eyes, walking into his tent to change.
As he was changing, he noticed a beaded necklace hiding under his table. He bent down, bending his knees and picked it up. This wasn’t his—and definitely wasn’t Dutch’s or Hosea’s. He looked at it a little longer and decided he had better things to worry about, placing the mysterious necklace on top his cot and finished getting dressed.
He grabbed his satchel, putting his pistol and bullets in it along with some other things like more peppermints for his horse, Clover. He was about to leave his tent when his eyes caught onto the necklace resting on his cot. He grabbed it, shoving it in his satchel—maybe he could get a few bucks off it at a pawn shop in the city.
He left his tent, walking up to the horses where Hosea and Dutch already were. He hopped onto his own horse and trotted out of camp and started to head to the nearest train station.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Charles was strolling around a new town he hadn’t been before. This town was a lot bigger than the ones he was used to so he couldn’t just mindlessly ride his horse around people in the streets. This was just another thing to frustrate him further. A few weeks ago he had lost his necklace—one his mother made him when he was young and followed her alongside her tribe.
He beat himself up over it often when he’d reach for it on his neck to fidget with, just to be reminded he had lost it somewhere along the road. Charles hated staying in one spot for to long, it reminded him to much of how weeks before he actually fled his home he would stay in the nearby forest. He doesn’t remember why he did that exactly, maybe leaving was a lot to go through with.
His father had fallen into a depression after his mother had been captured by soldiers and never seen again. It was obvious what had happened and it hurt Charles’ father to even think about it. He started drinking more and more to the point he had completely forgotten Charles even existed. He grown tired of the constant smell of alcohol lingering in this house Charles once called home. The night he left, he packed all his stuff up.
He came across a picture of his mother and father before everything went to shit. In his mind, this was how things were supposed to be—happy. Maybe in another life though. He put the picture in his bag and said one last goodbye to his father. He didn’t even seem to notice that his only son was leaving and didn’t have any plans on returning.
Charles felt tears weld in his eyes but forced them to a stop and walked outside. His dad had a pretty Warhorse he called Cinder, she was massive but Charles was tall for a 13 year old. He saddled her up and stepped on the stirrup and pushed himself onto the horse. He patted her neck and grabbed a carrot out of his bag and fed it to her.
He picked up the reins and was off.
He tried his best not to think about it too much. It was years ago but still—the thought hurt his stomach a bit. He sighed, he saw a patch of grass he could let Cinder rest in while he thought of what he was going to do next. Cinder sat down in the patch of grass and Charles sat against her.
It had been a couple weeks of nonstop traveling and he could tell his horse was getting tired—so he let her rest for a while. He pulled a map out of his side bag, pinpointing where exactly he was and where he was going next. He couldn’t go back where he came from since those men—the “O’Driscoll’s” Arthur had told Charles about—
Arthur, he almost forgot. How could he have forgotten such a name? Because he couldn’t—Arthur had been in the back of his mind ever since he left the forest. Every chance he got to day dream he thought about one thing—one person, Arthur Morgan.
He tried so hard to look big and tough but Charles saw the way his face turned this pretty shade of pink whenever he got embarrassed, or the way he stuttered over his own silly accent. That black gamblers hat that he cared so much about that’d he go out in the cold rain to collect. Charles bet the second he left Arthur went to go give it a nice wash in the nearby river.
He smiled at the thought of Arthur lingering in his head. In the short amount of time he had gotten to know him he felt like he needed to see him again, and that was the only factor he had thought about when deciding where he should go next. He hated retracing his steps, it felt like a waste of time.
But the thought of it resulting in seeing Arthur again was okay with him.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Charles woke up to a sound of a train rolling through the town. The whistle pierced his ears, resulting in his hands covering them. He sat up, confused on when he had fallen asleep. He decided it wasn’t worth the brain power and reached behind him to wake up Cinder. His hands felt nothing but cold ground.
His eyes immediately widened and looked around frantically for his horse. Not only was his horse missing, but literally all his belongings as well. All he had on him was his dad’s knife he took with him when he ran away all those years ago. His heart started to race,
All he had from home was gone.
He stood up quickly, looking around more to see any signs of his horse. Maybe she had simply gotten bored and wandered off hoping to find something to snack on, but that didn’t seem to be the case. How did he not wake up to the sound of his horse being stolen from him??
He was about to give up right then and there when he noticed the ground. The fresh patch of grass he had originally been sitting on was close to a dirt path. He noticed footprints. He analyzed the ground and realized it wasn’t just human—it was the shape of hooves, big enough to be Cinders. He noticed a trail of them and started to run after them.
He ran, desperate to find his horse. The tracks seemed to keep turning and turning until he noticed they stopped, reaching a large building. It was the back entrance of it—stairs leading up to big doors. His breathing was fast, hunching over to catch his breath before he bolted inside.
Except—Charles hadn’t had a plan or a single clue what was going on inside the building. For all he knows Cinder could be already dead with his stuff being stolen and thrown away. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think of something—anything to help ease his mind.
In the end, Charles threw up his hood and walked through the double doors.
The building was full of rich looking folk who had more money than they knew how to spend or even count. Charles looked around, trying to spot Cinder but no matter how fast or slow he scanned the room, he couldn’t see her. His eyes started to glisten, tears threatening to fall down his face.
The picture of his parents was in his saddle bag. He was going to be sick. The horse his father cared so much for before his mother’s capture was about to be out of his hands. He covered his mouth that threatened to spill out his stomach. He felt like he was about to fall over—
No. He couldn’t give up now, it’s too early to even say anything happened to Cinder or his stuff. Charles steadied his breathing and refocused his head. He looked around the place, it was filled with wealthy folk—that much he already could tell, but why?
Why and what was happening to where they needed to steal some old horse off a sleeping teenager? How lousy, he thought. Cinder was a pretty horse—thats for sure, but once they started to ride her they’d notice how stubborn she really was. Charles could barely get her to cooperate when he first left his father and house behind.
No way in hell was Charles about to lose another family member. no way.
Charles noticed the stage and how people started to crowd in front of it. Charles had no clue what any of this could be but he did know that he needed to find Cinder and get out. He saw a big curtain on the stage—definitely an old theater building. There were doors that led to what Charles could only imagine was backstage. He just needed a plan on how to sneak back there.
A group of men—around 10—headed towards those doors. Charles saw his chance and sped towards the group, tightening his hood and blending into the men.
The doors for the backstage opened up and he slipped through with little trouble. Charles looked around, trying to spot his horse. Nothing. There was boxes filled with things that looked rare and valuable but he didn’t care about any of it—for all his knowledge everything in this building was stolen, and he still was failing to understand what this event was.
He tried his best to keep a low profile while backstage. It was clear his horse wasn’t here but—where else could she be?
He immediately noticed a box with a bag poking out. It was his—or at least it was a damn good replica. He hurried over to it and looked through it.
It was his 100%. The rest of the stuff inside was his as well. Stuff from his saddle bag were dumped in with little care, causing some things to end crumbled and broken. Though the picture of his parents was no where to be seen.
His horse still wasn’t any closer to being found either. He concluded that they probably were gonna sell everything on his horse to whoever these people were in the building. He grabbed everything from the box and shoved it all in the bag, slipping it on just as quickly. A man walked up to Charles,
“Excuse me..what do you think you’re doing?” His tone was annoyingly dignified and disguised as gentle, it wasn’t to Charles though.
Charles stood up, his hood almost falling off. He was almost as tall as the man who had just caught him stealing—or taking what was rightfully his.
“Now son, I won’t ask you again.” It was a threat. Charles couldn’t afford to make a scene. He had no way to flee if things got bad. He clutched his bag. The man grew impatient of Charles’ silence and walked closer to him. Charles stepped back, awaiting what came next.
“So sorry about him, friend.”
A voice so familiar,
“Excuse me?”
Who was that?
“He don’t quite understand.”
Charles looked up,
“..just get this dealt with. I dont feel like being yelled at right before the auction.” Charles watched as the man walked away to the other side of this backroom, quickly turning his gaze at the man who had just saved him from a black eye.
Silvery blond hair—he was wearing a suit and it almost fooled Charles if it wasn’t for his accent or the knife hiding in his pocket.
“Hey kid, pass me that box behind ya’.” Charles had this bewildering expression, even so he used his foot to slide the box towards the older man.
“Would ask ya’ how ya’ve been but—“ The older man looks around, “This ain’t the time.” Charles nodded. The man in front of him looked so familiar, yet he couldn’t pin point exactly where he had seen him. The man started to rummage through the box Charles just kicked over, picking up items that looked of value and stashing them in his coat pockets.
“Arthur’ll be glad to see ya’. Now c’mon why dont’cha?” Arthur—his face lit up. This man was Hosea—who Charles could only describe as Arthurs father. That much was clear. Hosea started to walk to the other boxes, kneeling down and looking through them. Charles followed.
Hosea almost looked like he fit right in with these people who spent their days stepping on lower class while being fed with silver spoons. Always wanting more—never caring what happens to get what they want. People could die for absolutely nothing, Charles hated that. Innocent people don’t deserve a death for simply being in the way.
“Hey kid,” Hosea turned around to face Charles, he held up a picture, “This yours?”
Charles grabbed the photo from Hosea and stared at it. His mom and dad, sitting together. He missed them.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm. So whats yur’ deal? Did’cha get yurself robbed?”
“They took my horse.” Charles held the picture close to his chest.
“Hm. This place is full’a crooks, You best be careful next time.” Hosea stood up, bag full of stuff from the boxes.
“You aren’t?” Hosea couldn’t help but laugh, he started to walk near the backdoor, Charles continued to follow.
“Uhm, about Arthur—“
“Eager, huh?” Charles’ face felt hot.
He tried his best to sound composed, “Its uh-not often I get to see people my age.” Hosea nodded with a hum.
“He’s probably out back looking through the bigger things these..filthy folk couldn’t fit through those lousy doors.” Charles watched as Hosea pushed open the back door and looked outside, the cold breeze blew Charles hood off.
“Anything of value?” The older man walked over to a younger man looking through a wagon full of stuff.
“Nun’. God—why’da ya’ make me dress up if we ain’t even in the damn buildin’? Seems like a waste of the money we ain’t even have.” Arthur complained, his tone annoyed.
“To blend in, dear boy. We’ve been over this many times before.” Hosea nudged Arthur’s shoulder,
“Ran inta’yur friend.” Arthur’s eyes shot up, meeting Charles’. He immediately noticed Arthurs suit, It didn’t look bad it just didn’t really look like Arthur enjoyed it much. Charles thought he looked rather good in it.
“You look—“
“Ridiculous? I know.” Charles laughed, causing Arthur to smile. Hosea smirked, Arthur noticed and groaned quietly.
“Seriously- nothin’?” Hosea questioned Arthur—but he was focused on Charles. Hosea rolled his eyes and spoke again, “Is the suit to tight its squeezing all the oxygen from yur’ brain? We gotta hurry up and find this fellers horse before those men inside realize their stuff ain’t where they left it.”
Arthur shook away this feeling and nodded, “You lost yur’ horse?”
“I did not lose, my horse she was stolen.” Charles’ face was sour, like even thinking about it was awful.
Arthur gulped, “Well, I did see some horses back in that barn over there.”
“Great, take me to it.” Charles’ blunt request made Arthur force a smile down.
“Now—I ain’t sure it a good idea. There’s security around the place.”
“No, Arthur this is good. If we can distract security to come out by the barn, me and Dutch will have more time to load things onto a wagon.” Hosea’s plan made sense to Arthur, but—
“—but, I don’t want’cha to get hurt again. You better promise me you’ll be careful.” His hands grabbed Arthur’s shoulder with worry.
“Hosea, it was once—“
“—Twice.”
“…Twice—“
“Maybe it was three?—“
“It doesn’t matter—what does matter is i’ll be careful. Once we sneak in’ta the barn and get Charles’ horse we’ll ride out and draw attention leading to the outskirts of town—you and Dutch can get the stolen stuff to camp.” Hosea smiled, impressed with how Arthur had grown. His plans started to make more and more sense throughout the years—not without some failures that is.
Hosea patted Arthurs shoulders then let go, “Not bad kid.“ Arthur tried to hide his smile, but Charles saw it.
“A’right, let’s get this done.” Hosea ran back through the door into backstage.
Arthur looked at Charles, “K’ c’mon. We ain’t got a clue on how long we have so—“
“Let’s get goin’?” Charles finished his sentence. Arthur nodded, they both started to run near the barn.
Arthur hid behind a hay bale, signaling Charles to do the same. He peaked his head out and looked towards the barn. Men with guns strapped to their waist stood near the front fence. Arthur was unsure if there was men near the back but he knew it was more than likely.
“plan?” Charles whispered.
“yeah, follow me.” Arthur started to make his way towards the side of the fence concealing the barn and the small ‘grass’ around—it was more of yellow weed and dead plants than anything. It was kind of an ugly sight but the two of them had seen much worse. Blood, death—you name it. It wasn’t anything new—thats for sure, but it was still kind of sad to see in a decently pretty town like this one. Especially with the large building next to it.
Arthur carefully lifted the wiry fence up for Charles to crawl under. A loose wire cut his hand slightly, making Arthur wince quietly. Charles turned around and looked at Arthur from the other side of the fence, “you okay?” He asked in a whisper so silent it was almost unnoticed.
Arthur nodded, even though it did hurt. Charles lifted the fence up with more caution, allowing Arthur to slip through. The wire must have hit a vain in his hand because it was bleeding abnormally. Charles’ noticed this and grabbed his bandana from his satchel and grabbing Arthur’s hand.
He wrapped it around Arthur’s cut tightly and tied it. Arthur’s hands looked rough and calloused, like he’d been doing this routine his entire life. Something about the way his hands felt gave Charles this over whelming sense of sadness—he frowned and let go of his hand softly.
Arthur’s face was warm—no matter how hard he tried to stop the temperature, it still came anyway.
Arthur cleared his throat, “thanks—again.”
“no problem, cowboy.” Charles started to head to the barn as a flushed Arthur followed behind.
Charles peaked his head up and over one of the open windows of the barn.
Cinder laid down in a fenced off area with her eyes closed and head resting on the hay below her. She looked exhausted, and that pained Charles. He wanted to stand up now and start killing these dirty men more than anything, but Charles knew how that’d end. Charles gritted his teeth.
Arthur noticed but decided to put his good hand onto the window ledge—pulling himself up and over silently. Charles followed, doing the same as Arthur. Once they were over Arthur motioned for Charles to open the area Cinder was in and let her out.
Cinder’s eyes lit up, moving her head to meet Charles’. He quieted her with a silent ”shhhh..”
“okay wait for my signal.” Arthur spoke, looking out of the barn—trying his best to scope out the area.
“what the hell is the signal?”
“Oh—uhm,” Arthur took out his pistol, “when I shoot, get on yur’ horse and ride like hell.”
“what about you?” They both were whispering.
“it ain’t matter, i’ll meet ya’ out there—“
“no way. we’re not doin’ that, are you an idiot?” Charles was dumbfounded at Arthur’s recklessness. How in the hell was that a good plan? Arthur’s eyes widened,
“..you wanna risk us both bein’ shot at?”
“we’re bein’ shot at regardless, Arthur.” The way Charles said his name sent shivers down his back. Arthur sighed, then nodded.
“fine, you got a better idea?”
“it probably ain’t better but it doesn’t mean leaving you behind. you make us a distraction, then i’ll come on cinder and pull you up.” Arthur reached for his hat but remembered that he was forced to leave it at camp. He frowned but agreed.
Arthur slowly walked out of the barn, drawing attention from the security, “Boy, what’cha think you’re doin’ over here??”
“Oh ya’ know..just…strollin’.” Charles planted his hand on his face, what an actor. He shook his head and leaded Cinder up and hopping onto her. The security man drawled his gun, pointing it at Arthur—he ducked, falling to the ground—the bullet landed in a hay bale behind him.
Arthur drawled his pistol and aimed for the guys leg, shooting a clean shot through his calf. The man fell to the ground, “YOU DAMN KID.”
The yelling caused the other security guards to rush over with their guns out, pointed at Arthur. Charles swept in and held out a hand for Arthur to grab. He quickly took it, being pulled onto the draft horse.
“This feel familiar, don’t it?” Arthur joked, shooting his gun into the men who followed.
“Mhm, now save your breath, cowboy.” Arthur laughed quietly as they rode away.
Soon enough, more men on horses started to follow the pair of teenagers. Arthur was trying his best to make sure no bullets landed on the horse but it started to become more and more difficult the farther they got from town. It was already dark but the street lights fading out in the distance definitely was not helping.
“Im almost outta bullets.” Arthur confessed, cocking the last bit of bullets into his pistol as quickly as he could.
“Shit—okay.” Charles huffed, the wind pushing into his lungs made breathing difficult.
“Arthur, hold on!” Arthur quickly grabbed Charles’ sides as he took a sharp turn into a tall field. Charles hopped off Cinder causing Arthur to do the same. Charles feet shook as he hit the ground but he didn’t have time to worry about that, not now.
“I’ll find you later girl.” Charles whispered as he grabbed Cinders face and moved her towards his own, he rested his forehead against his horses snout. He let go, hitting her back just enough for her to get the message and start to run.
Arthur watched Charles every move. He was so gentle with his touch—it was almost rare to see good men these days.
Charles suddenly pushed Arthur down quickly but not hard. He kneeled, watching lights pass by with the occasional ”you see em’?” often followed by a no or a groan.
Arthur was too wrapped up in his own head to even notice the men passing by them. Charles’ hand was pinned on Arthur’s chest, the other boy kneeling slightly over him with his head turned towards the light to keep watch and make sure they weren’t heading towards them. He could never be more glad that Charles’ wasn’t staring at him—his face was probably notably hot, almost a light shade of red. Breathing suddenly became difficult for Arthur, he shut his eyes tightly trying his best to calm down—they were just shot at for christ sake.
Charles’ was kind enough not to say anything, but he could feel Arthur’s heart race. He blamed it all on the fact they were just playing a game of tag with essentially law men. Once Charles’ could no longer see the light of lanterns brushing his face he lifted his hand up and off of Arthur’s chest—in return he let out a shaky breath.
“you alright?” Charles whispered—not because he felt like he needed to but because he wanted Arthur to know he was gentle in his tone.
“Mhm, yeah.” Arthur attempted to push himself up but winced from the cut on his hand. Charles immediately guided him back down to sit properly.
“Shit, I had almost forgotten ‘bout that..hah.” His laugh was forced, trying his best to remain composed. Charles’ eyes darted down to his hand with the bandana tied around it,
“May I?” Charles asked in that soothing voice he always had,
“Go ahead.” Charles untied the knot he had made to attempt on stopping the blood from Arthur’s palm. The only source of light they had was the moon, shining down on them. Charles’ saw how Arthur’s eyes looked in nature light—he for some reason couldn’t look away from it. His breath hitched,
What a strange thing to think about while he’s in pain. Charles swallowed the thought, taking the bandana fully off. He looked at the cut, “We should get you back to your friends so this—can be taken care of properly.”
“Sure, but how? Yur’ horse is gone and mine is up at a stable near that town we was just at.” Arthur didn’t mind the idea of walking—it was more annoying than anything though. They had rode for a while and they were pretty far walking distance from the auction house (which Charles had just learned) and even he wasn’t too keen on the idea.
“Fair.” They stayed like this for a while in the dim light of the moon. Charles ended up readjusting to sit down more comfortably, his legs crossed while still being prepared to get up if those men show up again. Arthur and him didn’t know exactly what they should do—and it was getting much later in the night. “Charles,” he turned his gaze towards Arthur, “Wanna take turns keepin’ watch?”
“Hm? We stayin’ here?” Charles didn’t mind, just was surprised Arthur didn’t either. “You got an idea better than that?” Charles smiled warmly and shook his head, “No, I guess not.”
“I’ll take first watch, you go ahead and get some rest.” Charles patted Arthur on the back and straightened his back. Arthur protested a while about how he should be the one to keep watch first—but it didn’t matter because Charles wasn’t gonna let up. So, neither did Arthur—he was tired and uncomfortable. The suit he still was wearing was just ever so slightly small. It wasn’t tight but it wasn’t by any means loose. He ended up taking the jacket off and placing it beside him in the dirt.
What a plan. Instead of one person being able to sleep for a bit, two were gonna stay up and make sure they weren’t snuck up on, What a planem>. Charles and Arthur decided to fill the silence with needless talk in others eyes, but to these two it wasn’t—it was fun to hear silly stories from one another. It felt like hours were passing by when realistically it had been around one or so.
“Then—Dutch is runnin’ outta this store with an ugly pair’a pants and says ‘Hosea, Arthur, we gots’ta go!’ and then we started bookin’ it back to the horses!” The two laugh at the silly moment Arthur had. Once laughter died down and their faces were only filled with slight smiles, Charles decided to ask,
“How’d you meet these guys anyhow?”
Arthur was quiet for a second—just enough where Charles noticed. “It’s—.” He tried so hard to think of a response. Sometimes all Arthur can think about is that day. He’d been alone. Stealing to just hopefully make it one more day. Somedays, Arthur would find himself wondering why he tried so hard to live in a world where he was shown time and time again he wasn’t wanted nor needed.
“—its a long story I don’t really feel like talkin’ bout.” Charles let it go immediately, he could see the way Arthur struggled to answer. It was obvious he cared about Dutch and Hosea—like, a lot. Though it was obvious that they weren’t his real parents, anyone could see that. Yet Arthur treated them as such and nothing more nothing less.
“Thats okay. I’d like to hear it—when you’re ready of course.” Arthur smiled. He had only seen Charles twice but every time, without fail, he saw a good person.
Almost on cue, they heard a horse approaching their area in the field. Immediately they both stopped talking, steading their breath, putting a hand on their weapon—
“Callahan? Ya’ out here?” Arthur made a face.
Arthur—to Charles’ surprise—stepped out into the path and out of the tall grass.
“Hosea, you really need’ta stop that.” Hosea? For a second, Charles believed Arthur wanted to get caught. He slowly also stepped out of the grass, standing beside Arthur now.
“Oh, Callahan.” The older man sounded like he was mocking someone—Arthur perhaps? Who the hell was Callahan.
“You ain’t ever gonna let that go, are ya’?”
“Nope. Glad yur’ alright son.” Hosea reached down from his horse and ruffled Arthur’s hair.
“Glad to see yur’ also okay..Charles, was it?” Charles nodded. “Wheres yur horse?”
“Shes somewhere ‘round here, I’ll go look for her now.” Charles adjusted his bag. “Arthur’s hurt his hand on a fence. It ain’t bad but it should-“
“You’re leavin’?” Arthur cut him off, it reminded him of the first time they met. Always in a hurry to get going.
“Well—Cinder could be anywhere by now.” His words came out like a protest—like he had to justify his reason for leaving. Honestly, if it weren’t for his horse, Charles would have no problem staying with Arthur for a little longer. They both stared at each other, afraid of the possibility that this would be the last time.
Hosea rolled his eyes, “C’mon, let’s go get Boadicea.” Arthur whipped his head around. “Really? But you said-“
“I know what I said, but…we gots to help yur’ friend and as much as I worry—I know you love that horse. Now c’mon let’s get a move on.” Hosea grabbed the reins of his horse and moved him facing towards the way he had just came.
Arthur turned his gaze back towards Charles, almost as if asking if this was okay. He didn’t protest and smiled, following the two. Charles didn’t want to admit it but this was the closest thing he’s felt in a while that made him feel like he had a purpose. Beside all the times he’d had to shoot or scare people because they were being to overzealous to a lady or the wild life around. Charles has always loved nature, and seeing some idiots taint what the world has tried so hard to persevere made his blood boil.
He hoped, that maybe, this feeling he had hanging out with Arthur could last just a little longer.