Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hosea?” Arthur calls out from somewhere in the house.

“Yes?” Hosea removes his head from the cabinet beneath the sink, the pipe’s been leaking for quite some time now.

“They’re at it again.”

That one sentence alone seems to suck out any hopes of a normal Sunday. Closing his eyes briefly, Hosea prays for patience and strength before getting up to see the damage.

The hallway connecting the kitchen to the front door is full of portraits and photos, all of which include Arthur, Dutch and Hosea in some way. He always finds himself looking wistfully at the pictures on the wall, something like nostalgia overtakes him when catching a glimpse of one.

The one grabbing his attention right now is one of Dutch and him, smiling proudly as the Grand Canyon stands in the background. Hosea thinks of it while he opens the front door, wishing to know what went wrong.

“What are you gentlemen doing?!” 

Caught in the act, Dutch turns his head sharply to the porch. Which appears to be what Colm O’driscoll was hoping for, as he redirects the spraying hose to Dutch’s face. Not to be outdone, Dutch lets out some sort of battle cry and rotates the cap of his own to Jet and points it straight between the O’driscoll’s eyes. 

The sudden onslaught of liquid takes a toll on Mister O’driscoll, dropping his own weapon to protect his face. Hosea sighs, not even bothering to say anything else and going straight to the water tap on the side of the house.

It takes a few seconds for Dutch to realise that there’s nothing coming through, the man glances between the water-less sprayer in his hands and the currently writhing man on the other side of the fence.

“Don’t even think about throwing it.” Hosea quickly goes up to him and wretches the thing out of his hands. 

Understanding that the fight is over, Mister O’driscoll turns off his own hose and puts it somewhere on the ground. All while rubbing the space between his eyes with a wince. “Thank you, Mister Matthews. Arthur certainly got his smarts from you and you alone.”

Hosea shakes his head, not even bothering to unpack that whole statement. Grabs Dutch’s sleeve and shakes it a few times for good measure. “When I said, ‘Spray the lawn’ I thought-” 

“He started it!” Dutch shoves his hand in Colm’s direction. 

“I was only retaliating !” 

“And I’m finishing it!” Hosea snaps, “Both of you better get inside and dry off, I don’t wanna see another spectacle of yours today!” 

There’s a slight pause.

“Is that clear?”

“Yes, Hosea.” And “Yeah, okay.” are murmured, both men avoiding Hosea’s eyes and making their way to their own homes.

Dutch stays guiltily mute when they get inside, water dripping from his hair and clothes to the floor. Hosea quickly goes to the bathroom and returns with a towel. The silence lasts about two seconds before Arthur leans down from the stairwell. 

“Did you win?”

That spurs Dutch right on, “Of course I did, son!” 

“You didn’t win shit!” Hosea accidentally swears, all caught up in his own anger. Arthur lets out an ‘Ooh’ but quickly retreats back upstairs when he meets Hosea’s glare.

Dutch opens his mouth but closes it with a click when Hosea turns to him. 

“When you dry yourself off, go see what’s up with the pipe.” 

Nodding, Dutch quietly accepts his fate.

If Hosea knew the trouble this house would bring, he would’ve gotten the other one on Annesburg street. 

It seemed like a dream come true, getting their own place. No more renting small apartments that could barely fit two people. A home, one with a spacious backyard and enough room to accommodate all of them.

It’s even close to the grocery store, a very nice advantage in Hosea’s opinion. 

They’re still taking part in their… Hobbies to say the least. Though they both agreed to not bring Arthur with them anymore. 

It was nice, it was great, it was perfect , for the few months that it lasted. It all changed when Colm O’driscoll moved next door.

Everything was civil at first, Arthur greeting their new neighbor from across the fence, and the man responding fairly politely. Dutch and Hosea were busy meeting up with the local competition, and didn’t really see their new neighbor yet. Only hearing him in passing from Arthur.

“He’s an odd fella, got that long wiry hair down his shoulders that make him look dirtier than he is."

Dutch hums, scratching the bottom of his plate with his fork. “That’s nice, Arthur.” 

“Yeah, and he’s like, I dunno, strange. But he’s still pretty friendly, he let me pet his dogs the other day.

“Mhm…” Hosea swirls his glass of water tiredly

“But I got a glimpse of the inside of his house and it was full of stuff! Like, I saw some guns on display along with some neat green bandanas.”

“And then?” Dutch murmurs as he sets his head on the table. 

“I asked him about it and he laughed! He offered to give me one of ‘em bandanas, as to ‘match with his boys’ or something. He’s pretty old, you think he has grandsons or something?”

Looking back, Hosea regrets being so hung over as to not realise who Arthur was talking about. 

Everything clicked one evening, when both Dutch and Colm went to check their mailbox. They didn’t acknowledge each other at first, muttering some greetings to each other as they read through their mail. 

Arthur and Hosea were outside as well, playing cards on the grass when- 

“ Colm ?!”

“ Dutch ?!” 

When Hosea got there, they were already jumping each other. He tried his best to get them to separate, in vain as he was still in some bewilderment as well. To see their long time rival casually living next to them.

What ultimately broke them apart was Arthur, who after hearing the commotion, couldn’t wait to stick his nose in what was going on. The kid stopped short when he saw the two grown men ruffling on the street in broad daylight, along with Hosea’s mediocre attempts to calm them down.

“Mister O’driscoll? Dutch? The heck are you guys doing?!” 

Both men paused, turning their heads to the fourteen year old boy. “Wait you know this guy?” was said at the same time as: “You know him?”

Some brief introductions later, Arthur took Colm’s side and made both men swear to not stir up things again. 

It was a strange surprise to see that Mister Colm O’Driscoll himself had a soft spot for the boy. But if it meant that the man wouldn’t harm Arthur to get to them, it was a win in Hosea’s book.

That promise the men made? Wasn’t a win to anyone. The way Hosea sees it.

It’s on sight, as Arthur describes it. The two men try to tone it down a bit when Arthur’s around, but it still ultimately ends with both of them having some sort of altercation. 

Be it mowing the lawn at 6 am on a Saturday or ding dong ditching . Those two are always doing something to each other.

Arthur caught wind of it as well, hard not to. So, he’s now using it to his advantage. Hosea would be proud if it wasn’t so annoying.

“Can we get a pet?” Arthur asks at dinner time, glancing up at them hopefully.

“Absolutely not .” Hosea reprimands instantly, with Dutch agreeing.

“Well, why not?” The boy scoffs, sliding down his chair as some sort of rebellion. “I promise I’ll take care of it…

“No means no, son.” Dutch points his fork at him.

Arthur whines about it some more later, pleading with Hosea as they wash the dishes. It gets him nowhere in the end, but the boy is stubborn.

Everyday, like clockwork, the kid reminds them of his wish. Constantly reminding them of his upcoming birthday and how it would be ‘so cool’ to have his own pet.

The answer’s the same every time, neither party wearing down.

It gets so out of hand that Colm hears about it. When Hosea and Dutch get home from ‘work’ they catch Arthur surrounded by a bunch of large gray dogs. Which proves to be Colm’s seeing as the man is grinning at the scene.

Arthur looks like he’s having the time of his life, laughing and playfully batting away the mutts’ noses and lolling tongues. 

“Can we get a dog, please ?” The boy draws out the last word, looking up at Hosea with, ironically, puppy eyes. 

“No, son.” Dutch says, still glaring at their neighbor who’s watching the whole thing.

Arthur groans loudly, hugging the large Irish Wolfhounds close . 

“But Mister Colm has dogs…” The kiddo says lowly, but not too low as the purpose is clear. That single sentence gives Dutch that glint in his eyes.

“It’s okay, kid. You can play with my dogs anytime you want.” Colm crouches down and gives a few scratches to the mutts. Smirking up at Dutch all the while.

Next week, Copper becomes the newest member of the family. A dumb as rocks pup whose only goal in life is to make everyone else’s harder. 

Even if Hosea was against the whole idea at first, he can see some improvement in Arthur’s character after they got the pet. Seems like the boy was getting lonely staying home while the two of them went to work.

They get a bed for the thing. Along with a leash, collar and some vaccines. At Arthur’s insistence they also get some toys, squeaky ones that Hosea already knows will give him headaches.

The day they bring the pup home, Arthur and Dutch are vibrating with excitement. Dutch isn’t happy about getting a dog, oh no. Hosea knows the man is ecstatic at the thought of one upping Colm.

Immediately after the car stops, Arthur rushes out with the crate in his hands. He sits on the grass and opens it carefully, patiently waiting for the red puppy to go out.

Hosea and Dutch are watching from the side, sitting in the lawn chairs exasperated. Getting the mutt was a painfully long process, they (Dutch) didn’t want some random stray as their son’s pet. 

So after a few long calls they managed to get in touch with a pretty renowned breeder. One who didn’t back down on the prices at all . So they begrudgingly paid the full price and got Arthur a vizsla pup.

It’s an ugly little thing, Hosea admits. But it's got its own weird charm to it, he supposes. So he’ll accept it, for now.

“Hey, Colm!” Dutch calls out as he waves his hand, trying to get their neighbor’s attention who’s currently raking some fallen leaves. 

“Hah? What you want?” Colm raises his head to look above the fence. 

“Show him what we got ya, Arthur.” Dutch says, slightly quieter. Arthur doesn’t hesitate a second and gathers the small pup in his arms, raising it up like some parody of Simba.

Colm looks positively puzzled, Hosea is too, though he won’t admit it. 

“His name’s Copper!” Arthur shoves the dog in their neighbor’s face, gleaming all the while.

O’Driscoll blinks, watching in silence as Copper keeps trying to lick his nose. Snorting, Colm pats the puppy’s head and then ruffles Arthur’s hair. 

“Well, nice to meetcha, Copper. You think he’d get along with my dogs?”

Arthur gasps, looking even more excited than the energetic pup in his hands. “Can we set up something like a playdate?” 

Colm shrugs, a smug look on his face. “I’m not against it. Let’s just see what your old men have got to say.” The two of them turn their heads to Hosea and Dutch.

Dutch has that look in his eyes, one that means he’s gonna do something stupid. Before he can open his mouth, Hosea quickly cuts in. 

“Well, let’s let the pup get familiar with his new home. Maybe after he’s more comfortable we can arrange some meeting between them.”

Arthur nods thoughtfully, holding Copper to his chest like it’s a baby. 

“ Arthur . Get your damn mutt out of my bedroom.” Dutch is holding the rotund pup by its neck, scowling as he hands it over to the boy.

“Don’t hold him like that! You could hurt him!” Arthur grabs Copper and lets it lay its head on his shoulder. The dog is clearly enjoying the attention, whining softly and digging its muzzle in Arthur’s nape.

“Hurt him? Well, Copper certainly didn’t think about who he’s hurting when he ripped apart my pillow!” Dutch leans down, pointing his finger at the dog’s back.

It’s been one week. Hosea always knew this is how it would’ve ended up. It’s always like this, someone gets a pet, everyone is happy and excited to play with it. That’s what he calls the ‘Pet Honeymoon Phase’ very original name, he knows.

Everyone wants a pet until the thing starts actually acting like a living being, and not just some decoration. 

Which is what is happening now, with Copper completely mauling a perfectly innocent pillow on his and Dutch’s bed. 

This is why Hosea prefers cats.

“He’s teething! It’s not his fault.” Arthur defends like his life’s on the line. 

“Why don’t you play with him outside, Arthur? Maybe get all his energy out and then we can settle in for the night?” Hosea offers before he does something he might regret.

Arthur sighs, petting the dog and making his way outside. But not before giving the little rascal a treat from the fridge, Hosea knows. The boy comforting Copper is the last thing they need, rewarding bad behavior and all. But Hosea just wants to sleep.

The dog’s been a nightmare , yowling every time he feels like it. Munching on shoes and pissing on the carpet for no reason at all . Yet Arthur swears it's just a phase, it would be cute seeing the boy so adamant about defending that little monster if it wasn’t so annoying.

Hosea lays down on the bed, sighing and putting his arm over his face. “If Arthur didn’t like the dog that much I would’ve punted the thing to next Friday.”

Dutch hums, glaring at the pillow stuffing on the floor. 

Some time later, Arthur still didn’t return inside. Frowning, Hosea gets up and looks out the window. It’s pretty dark, the street lights aren't doing much to show what’s going on out there.

He can barely make out the silhouette of Arthur and someone else, taller than the kid. Very quickly he grows concerned, ready to step outside and show whoever is out there who they’re messing with.

Dutch seems to catch on to his worry, getting out of bed as well and leans forward to see what’s up. After a short silence, Hosea opens his mouth to suggest confronting the person.

Right before he can do that, the scene becomes much clearer. A light shining on the two people outside, well not exactly. It looks like someone who has their lights on opened their front door.

Suddenly, there’s a lot of loud noises. Which push Hosea and Dutch to go outside. 

Throwing the front door open, Dutch and Hosea hurriedly step out into the yard. There’s so much going on at once that Hosea can’t comprehend anything at first.

So, Colm O’driscoll is currently spewing some curses at the stranger in their yard. The stranger is currently getting jumped by a pack of Irish Wolfhounds. And Arthur and Copper just stare at the scene.

Hosea should’ve bought that house on Annesburg street.

“What’s all this ruckus?” Dutch calls out, trying to look intimidating. Well, as much as one could in a baby blue night robe. 

“You oughta owe me, Van der linde! I just saved your boy’s hide.” Colm calls out, pointing to the silent pre teen boy next to him. Arthur bristles, opening his mouth a few times to retort but can’t bring himself to do it.

Apparently, this unknown man started a conversation with Arthur, who didn’t respond or indulge at all but didn’t want to seem rude as to just go inside. The boy will be in some hot water after this.

Shooing off the stranger with a mix of some colorful threats along the way, (they would’ve done much worse if the other neighbors didn’t also catch wind of this, silently watching from their windows) they finally settle in for the night. Of course they spent another dozen minutes explaining to Arthur the ‘Stranger Danger’ he almost got himself wrapped up with.

“I’m not dumb, I can take care of myself!” Arthur retorts, sulking in the chair he and Dutch sat him in.

“Then don’t talk to strangers without me or Dutch present!” Hosea tries digging that information in his head since they got here.

“It wasn’t even that big of a deal, I could’ve defended myself.” The boy glowers, digging his fingers in his arms.

“This is a big deal, son. Don’t endanger yourself needlessly if you could’ve easily left.” Dutch nags, putting his hands on his hips. The boy huffs, glaring off to the side. “Whatever.”

Hosea knew this moment would come. It was foolish to believe that Arthur was above the indifferent teenage phase. Hosea can already see it, one second Arthur is eating dinner, the next he calls the both of them bastards and shuts himself into his room listening to My Chemical Romance or something.

At least that's what Hosea did back in his day. No idea what kids do now, probably the same thing but with different music. 

Dutch exhales a puff of smoke, his thick cigar almost makes his fingers look small. Though Hosea can say the same for himself, as the one he’s holding is barely thinner than his hand. They’re sitting on a balcony, one with white bars encircling it and some greeneries surrounding it as well.

The balcony is above a garden, beautiful place really. Ponds and carefully trimmed bushes along with their own small fauna. Beautiful place, but not a beautiful owner- not exactly.

“I do hope we can settle to an arrangement, Mister Matthews, Mister Van der Linde.” Bronte says with an off smile. He has an obvious accent, though from what Hosea has gathered, Mister Angelo Bronte seems proud of his Italian descent. 

“Mister Bronte, we are willing to come to a compromise. As long as you also respect our demands.” Dutch reminds the man, something that Bronte seemingly can’t get his head around.

“But of course! Everything will be arranged.” Bronte gestures with his hands, as if he was trying to calm down a feral animal. “Have a bit of trust in me, please!” The man huffs in amusement, smiling all the while.

Hosea barely manages not to narrow his eyes, resorting to just subtly analyzing the mafioso once again. Ever since they met up with the local gangs, Bronte has been adamant to get to know them. Not sure exactly why, because the mafioso always seems to think that people of their level are just some bumpkins that he wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.

Their current alliance is a bit one sided, Bronte keeps on throwing orders and expects Hosea and Dutch to do them without any question. All for some extra cash. The Italian clearly isn’t used to newcomers, or at least not to people who have a mind for themselves.

Keeps thinking that throwing some money their way will make them compliant. Be it gathering information from rivalry, or killing someone because they get in the way. Of course, the two of them don’t succumb to such utter disrespect. They barely manage to keep a professional facade in front of Bronte. As much as Hosea wants to deck him.

“Okay, hit us.” Hosea speaks up, tapping his finger against the cigar. “What type of ‘arrangement’ are we talking about?”

Bronte grins wolfishly, as if he was waiting for the question. “I promise you won’t regret this, signores.” The man reassures.

“Hold on now, we haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Dutch points out, less successful in hiding his irritation. 

“Of course of course!” Bronte nods seriously, he glances between the two of them before continuing.

“There’s this party coming up, a very big one. Every rich man in town will attend it, since it is founded by the mayor himself!”

Before either of them can respond, Bronte interrupts yet again. “If you accept, you will receive your own invitation.” That is literally the least of their worries.

“I’m afraid we’ll firstly have to understand what the job is, Signore Bronte.” Dutch raises an eyebrow. 

Bronte sighs, as if they’re the ones being difficult. “I need you two men to assist one of my friends, the Braithewaites. They seem to have some issues with the other faction, the Grays. All you have to do is do some sabotaging to,” Bronte snaps his fingers a few times, looking off to the side, “even the field.” He says suddenly, chuckling.

“What price are we talking about?” Dutch clicks his tongue, inhaling some smoke.

“The invitation to the party, as promised. Along with some other monetary compensation.” At the look both Hosea and Dutch give him, Bronte rolls his eyes. “Ten thousand.”

“Each.”

“Deal. Does that mean you accept?” Bronte says without hesitation.

“Yes, we accept. Of course, we would need more details before we go on the job.” Dutch hums, glancing over at Hosea.

“Wonderful!” Bronte claps his hands. A servant immediately comes forward and sets a few sheets of paper on the table in front of them.

“He’s definitely playing us.” Hosea admits on the drive home.

“Of course he is. But we’ll be playing all of them” Dutch curls his fingers, grinning and having that look in his eyes. 

And so Dutch starts explaining his elaborate plan, about how they’ll pit the two families against each other. More than they already are, anyway. They’ll sabotage the both of them, and then rob them both. 

“That’s not exactly what Bronte will be paying us to do.” Hosea reminds him, feeling as though Dutch seems to have forgotten.

“Signore Bronte won’t know about this. If anything, everybody will just think there were just some opportunists who have long since awaited any crack in the families’ shields and rob them blind!”

The plan sounds so stupid it might work, Hosea reluctantly admits. It’s dangerous, risky and not very rewarding. 

But it gets his blood pumping, in a way that it hadn’t for years. Ever since they got Arthur they kept playing it safe, making every job they did mundane .

Dutch is still waiting for his input, staring at Hoses with bated breath. 

“...Fine.” He sighs. Dutch whoops, almost punching the roof of the car.

Hoses knew it. He knew it and yet still did it.

 It all went according to plan, at first, vandalizing the Grays and subtly leaving traces of the Braithewaites on the property.

That’s the part they were being paid to do, well except the leaving traces behind. 

What they weren’t paid to do, was do the same thing to the Braithwaites. 

It went all safe and well, they even managed to get on friendly terms with that hag from the Braithwaites. Invited them to tea with some very nice looking china sets.

Heard how she planned on retaliating on the Grays for how they messed up her liquor business. Him and Dutch were ecstatic, seeing their plan come into motion. 

Then, something went wrong.

Very wrong.

“Arthur!” Hosea calls out from downstairs. No response. Probably asleep. He glances over at Dutch, seeing him furrow his eyebrows.

“Arthur?” Dutch brings his hands around his mouth, making his voice echo throughout the house.

Nothing.

They make eye contact, a tense silence follows.

In a flash, they’re both making their way upstairs. Tromping up the stairs, he and Dutch come face to face with the door of Arthur’s bedroom. 

Knocking doesn’t solicit any noise from inside, not waiting another moment they open it.

It seems normal, at first. Arthur’s bed is in the middle of the room, to the side there’s a table which contains all the books and a dresser for the other stuff they got for him. 

What isn’t normal, is the broken chair on the floor. It’s by no means a flimsy one, yet one of its legs is barely holding onto the main body.

As if someone smashed it hard on a surface. Or, as the lack of marks on the floor or wall seems to suggest. Smashed it hard on someone .

Hosea’s heart stops.

There’s a small noise coming from inside the dresser. The two of them are immediately at it, opening it to reveal Copper shaking. Not with its usual excitement, but fear. As it keeps on whining.

“What the fuck?” O’driscoll scowls at them, as he’s currently laying in bed. There’s an underline of fear in his eyes. Of course there would be, as both Hoses and Dutch are holding guns to his head.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Colm.” Dutch remarks coldly, clicking off the safety.

“Did y’all gone mad finally?” O’driscoll chuckles forcibly, his sweat shining in the moonlight. “Thought y’all finally settled down, what, with a kid and everything.” 

“Funny you mention Arthur.” Hosea narrows his eyes, aiming straight at Colm’s.

“...What, this about him?” Colm huffs, “Think I’m a bad influence or some? That I’m- plaguing his pure innocent mind with my Irish ways?” He laughs.

Dutch hits him with the butt of the pistol, sending the man’s head off to the side from the brute force. O’driscoll groans, holding his nose which seems to be bleeding.

He’s breathing heavily, and nasally from the new injury. Finally, there’s true raw fear in his eyes.

“...The hell you-”

“Where's the boy, Colm. We won’t ask more than once.” 

There’s a pause.

“What? The boy’s missing?” There seems to be genuine confusion in his tone

“There are signs of struggle,” Hosea adds, “Mister O’driscoll, if you value yourself tell us what you did with him.

The old man seems sincerely concerned, “No, I ain’t done anything to your boy. Even if I did, I would've hightailed it out of here, not stay in one place.” He argues, quite convincingly.

Just to make sure, Hosea strikes the man yet again. Yelping, Colm hisses in pain and leans away subtly.

“I’m telling the truth here! What do I even gain from getting him? I ain’t into little kids like those Braithewaite fucks.” 

What.

“ What? ” Dutch remarks, lip twitching.

“Well what do you know anyway?” Colm spits out, Hosea barely refrains from sending him out the window. “That guy who came to Arthur, the one from like a few weeks ago. That was one of the sons.”

That was before their arrangement with Bronte, but didn’t the mafioso say that the Braithwaites are one of his allies? Did they know of Arthur before they even accepted the job? Did they plan on using him as blackmail? If they didn’t comply?

Quickly making eye contact with Dutch, who seems to have come to the same conclusion, assures his fears.  “What else do you know about the Braithewaite family?” Dutch asks, well, demands more like. But still lowers the gun slightly, not being as urgent anymore.

“Besides that they’re into little kids?” Now that he’s not in immediate danger, Colm gets back to his asshole ways.

Hosea decks him.

“What the fuck?!” The asshole gasps muffled as he’s cupping his newly busted lips.

“Arthur’s safety on the line, fucker. You better tell us what you know before we leave your guts to those dogs you like so much.” It’s been a while since Hosea allowed himself to speak so vulgarly, it's a bit refreshing honestly.

Colm doesn’t know that much about the family, just some more insults and stupid stuff like that. They make their way to the kitchen afterwards. He’s not a lot of help. Yet he… offers Hosea a cup of tea? Just Hosea though, Colm won’t even glance Dutch’s way.

“Come on, drink up. It ain’t poisoned if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” Colm ushers as he places the cup and some biscuits on the table. 

You couldn’t even tell that Hosea beat him six ways to Sunday with how amiable he’s acting.

“...Thanks.” Hosea mutters, not knowing what else to even say to this whole thing. Dutch doesn’t sit, but he does try to take one of the biscuits. Only for his hand to be immediately slapped away. 

Dutch moves to probably slap O’driscoll in turn but the pack of dogs all start growling. Which settles him back in place.

“So, what’s your plan?” Colm sprawls down on the chair across them, leaning against his knee.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, O’driscoll.” Dutch snarks, probably still mad about not getting the biscuit.

Colm O’driscoll chuckles hoarsely, “It became my business when y’all came in guns ablaze and demanded answers.” Well, he isn’t wrong. 

“Besides,” Colm drawls, eyes sharp and mouth smirking, “Y’all could use all the help you could get, and I could use some funds.” Demonstrating the fact by rubbing two fingers together.

“Don’t expect us to pay for your incompetence, Colm.” Hosea narrows his eyes, clenching his teeth at the sheer audacity of this man. 

“Listen, listen.” Colm placates, though amusement is still very clear in his tone. “I don’t want you to pay me from your own pockets. All I want is to get a chance at the goods hiding in the Breathe-whatever homestead.”

“Back off, O’driscoll.” Dutch spits out, “We don’t need your help.” 

“Yeah, well Arthur might.” Colm raises an eyebrow. As much as Hosea despises the man, he seems to continue bringing up good points.

Clicking his tongue, Hosea intervenes. “We don’t want to make a huge deal about this, bringing too much attention to ourselves will only make matters worse, even if we do manage to get Arthur back.”

“I will follow every plan you make.” Colm widens his eyes bashfully, like some religious figure placing a hand above his heart as if to say, ‘May god strike me down if I’m lying.’ No, don't ask how Hosea has come to this conclusion.

After some quick eye contact, Dutch sighs. “ Fine .” Clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes as if he’s the one doing Colm a favor. “But you will only follow our lead, is that clear?” 

“Crystal.” Those knock off ruby rings on Colm’s fingers are clearer. Seeing as his eyes glaze over no doubt he’s thinking of ditching them the second money gets involved.

“Good.” Dutch growls, as if to make sure his dominance is still very much present. Hosea stands up from his chair, urging him to follow. 

But the man hesitates for a moment, turns around, glares at Colm straight in the eyes, and takes a biscuit. Munching on it as he makes continuous eye contact with their host. Even as they leave.

It’s always ‘plans’ with Dutch.

“-And as they wait for the dust to settle- we leave!” Dutch explains, making gestures to articulate how it’s done. 

“Are you stupid? That’s the most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard.” Hosea finally snaps, after grueling hours of hearing about plans on how to safely rescue Arthur, he has had quite enough. Copper is sleeping in his lap, having some fitful dream from the looks of it. “Do I have to remind you that they know where we live?”

Dutch pauses, narrowing his eyes in thought. “...I forgot that part.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Then we need to somehow intimidate them into leaving us alone.” Dutch hums, tapping his chin and starts pacing around the room. “But how can we do that… Killing Braithewaite will be a death sentence to us as well…”

“Glad we’re thinking logically now.”

“Maybe if we do something less severe, but still impactful… like robbing them? No, Colm would be doing that anyway. Maybe just threatening them? But that could also put a target on our backs.”

It’s a delicate situation, do too much and you’ll get killed, do too less and you will yield no results. The phone rings, urging Hosea to get up. To at least get a brief break from all of- this . Hosea motions for Dutch to stay in place. Pushing off the mutt, who doesn’t even shift, Hosea stretches his legs and goes towards the phone. After a brief pause, he picks it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey I just set the Braithewaite mansion on fire, you want anything?” 

What.

“ What?! ”

“I said, ‘Do you want anything’?” Colm O’ fucking Driscoll repeats.

“I heard that part, what are you doing at the Braithewaites?!” His tone alerts Dutch, who gets up and stands nearby to hear what’s being said.

“Committing arson, that's what. We have the hag in front of us, anything you wanna say to her?” Colm drawls, if Hosea focuses-  there’s sounds of a crying woman.

“What’s going on?” Dutch mutters, leaning in close. 

Hosea puts his hand over the receiver, “Colm has Miss Braithewaite hostage.” It’s a bit comforting to see Dutch’s expression mirror what Hosea’s feeling right now. 

“ I told the idiot to wait for my call! ” Dutch whisper shouts.

“Well?”

Hosea closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, Alaska should be very nice this time of year. Actually, anywhere far away from here would be perfect.

“Does she have Arthur?” Hoses voices out loud. 

Colm grunts, there's some shuffling in the background along with some sneers and the cry of a woman. Lord knows what's happening out there. After a few more seconds of muffled voices, Hosea gets his answer. 

“Tough luck, said they handed Arthur over to Bronte.” Great . Just what Hosea wanted. Relaying that information to Dutch seems to dour the mood, still, after a tense silence, Dutch whispers:

“Ask him if he can get the china sets.” 

Hosea splutters, “Are you serious?” He hisses, leaning away from the phone. 

“Just ask!” Dutch growls back, pushing the phone to Hosea’s face. 

“For goodness' sake-” Hosea takes a deep breath in. “Hey, Colm.”

There's a grunt of surprise on the other side, as if the man thought they already hung up. “Yeah?”

“Do you– Uh, I mean, have you seen some expensive looking china sets?” 

A pause, then there's shuffling. Some barked commands and some heavy footsteps. Colm is saying something that isn't quite easy to catch

Finally, after a whole minute, Colm replies. “These ones with the blue flowers?” 

Dutch almost jumps to the phone, leaning in close to listen to what is going on. Hosea prays for patience.

“Yes,” Dutch is positively beaming, “those ones.” Hosea sighs.

The next day, after Colm dropped off the tea set, Hosea and Dutch start planning their next move. This time thoroughly explaining to Colm to never try that sort of thing again. And while it was effective, that doesn’t mean it should bear repeating.

In the middle of the night, right as Hosea is about to place cucumbers over his eyes (it’s been a few very stressful days, alright?) the phone rings again. As Dutch is still in the bathroom, it once again falls on Hosea to answer. He half expects to hear Colm’s voice from the speaker, telling them about his arson. 

What he doesn’t expect is the gruff, if not slightly accented, voice saying some address. Immediately after it is said, the caller hangs up, Hosea not even being able to get a word in. After Dutch gets out of the bathroom, in his blue sleeping robe, Hosea drags him off to the car. 

Of course, not without complaints. But after explaining, Dutch seems even more agitated. “ Couldn’t you have let me change then?! ”

“Some things just take priority, Dutch.” 

“Priority over me possibly getting into a shootout while wearing my pajamas?” 

Hosea turns the radio’s volume higher. Not a lot of good music in the middle of the night it seems. After almost half an hour on the road, they finally reach their destination. A port on the outskirts of the city, dead still in darkness. With some hesitation, the two of them step out of the car. 

Immediately, they’re greeted by some masked individuals, holding guns almost half their size. From a car shrouded in darkness, Bronte emerges, taking long strides towards them. Adjusting their stance, Hosea and Dutch carefully follow the man’s movement. After a brief, tense second, Bronte blurts out:

“Just take him.”

“Huh?” Both of them yelp. 

Bronte closes his eyes for a moment, “Just… Take him, alright? Get that boy away from me. Please.” The Italian takes their shocked silence as rejection, “Do you want money? I’ll give you money, just take him!” The two of them exchange glances, 

“How much money are we talking?” 

“A hundred.”

“Two.”

Instantly, “Deal.” Bronte snaps his fingers and a man comes forward with a suitcase, dropping it to the ground and sliding it towards the two men. Hosea is still appalled. Then, some other individuals step into the light, having a particular smaller person in front of them. 

“Hey, I always wanted to ask.” A voice says, muffled by the bag over their head. “What’s the deal with Italians caring so much about their moms? Does it come with being part of the mafia?” Hosea really doesn’t want to know what the hell the boy’s been saying while captured. 

Almost shoving Arthur forward, the mafiosos have a certain pained kind of look on their faces. Understandable. Dutch quickly moves to catch him, as fast as one could in a sleeping robe. Not even glancing back, Bronte and his men go back to their cars. Right before driving off, Bronte calls out: 

“Please don’t ever contact me again.” And speeds off.

Ripping the bag off the boy’s head reveals a startled but overall unharmed face. Arthur smiles up at the two of them. The two of them fuss over him, Dutch already on about some: ‘Never leaving a man behind.’ An exasperated smile forms on his face, Hosea ruffling up the boy’s hair.

In the car,  the three of them are sitting in silence. The dark makes a calming sight after everything. Though in all that gloom, a single sign in the form of an ‘M’ glows like a star. 

“Can we get Mcdonald’s?” 

“Order number 28?” The cashier calls out. Hosea stands up with their receipt, going towards the register. But is greeted by another surprising sight.

“Trelawny?”

The usually posh man is currently wearing the standard red and yellow uniform, along with the cap. He has in his hands a tray full of food, but hesitates to give it over once he sees Hosea.

“Ah, mister Matthews… Quite a surprise to see you here.” Trelawny clears his throat, glancing around quickly. 

“I thought you were working with–”

“Yes, that didn’t end quite well.” Trelawny says with some strain, a smile showing too much teeth. Hosea would laugh in his face if he wasn’t so tired. 

“I can see that.” He grabs the tray and turns to walk back, but Trelawny grabs his elbow. “Actually!” There it is. “Would you mind if I went home with you guys? My shift ends in half an hour and we have some catching up to do.” Read: ‘Please let me sleep on your couch tonight.’ 

Hosea shrugs off his hand, “Yeah, sure.” And walks back to their table. Dutch and Arthur are once again going on a tangent, not even bothering to understand what's happening, Hosea sits at the table.

Conversation forgotten, Arthur immediately nabs his happy meal, digging out the toy from the bottom of the box. 

“It's a dog!” Arthur rips the plastic off and reveals a small red dog plushie. Its eyes are almost bulging out, probably meant to be cute but it looks frankly disturbing. 

“Speaking of dogs…” Dutch hums, “That mutt of yours missed you, son. Kept whining all night for you.” And maul pillows, and bite through cables, wouldn't be surprising if Copper electrocuted himself. Would teach the animal some survival instincts, at least.

Arthur shoves some fries in his mouth, “Really? I miss him too, I'll give him so many pets when I get back.” The kid smiles, gulping down hurriedly.

“Ah right,” Dutch turns to Hosea. “We should probably call Colm about the situation.” Right as he's about to get his phone out, it rings. Coincidentally, it's Colm.

“Oh hey Colm. We just got Arthur back, the plan is off.” 

There's complete silence on the other end. 

“... Colm? Are you there?” Listening more closely, Hosea hears crackling. A particular sort of crackling. A sizzle, almost.

“Did you seriously set Bronte’s house on fire?”

A clearing of the throat. “Well, yeah.” 

Dutch grabs the phone out of his hands, scowling as he grips it.

“That wasn't even part of the plan! What do you think you're doing?” Hosea can almost hear the man shrug. 

“Haha… Anyway I'm glad you guys got Arthur back.” 

“Are you seriously–”

“Do you want his tea set too?” Colm sputters out. Dutch and Hosea share a look. Arthur continues to eat obliviously.

“...Yeah. And get some pillows while you're at it.”