#HJEJKRHEWKJHRJWKER CHAPTER 3 WE'RE GETTING THERE

[rcris123]

There was no reason, no reason at all, why he should be seeing the man again. Well, no rational one. But there he was, back at the goddamn Molly-house, and after what Trelawny trudged him through he was really needing something to look up to.

Well... It was that and the fact that Dutch said Isaac was ready to start earning his keep like one of them men. He might have been almost 17, but the boy ain’t meant for that. Dutch insisted.

And Arthur did as asked: took Isaac with Charles to rescue Trelawny. With it all on his head he almost got strangled in one of them cornfields – if it weren’t for Charles. Big man shot the bastard. Thankfully Isaac ain’t seen more than an Arthur a bit out of breath, but that was the usual for the two of them... Then to take the kid stagecoach robbing with Trelawny of all people.

He said no. And if it weren’t for Abigail and Miss Grimshaw, he might have not seen the end of it. Micah of all people jumped in Dutch’s defense about Arthur taking his kid robbing, like some lunatic. But what word out of Micah’s mouth can he trust.

Turned out to be nothing dangerous – unless you value your eardrums and possibly your sanity.

And here he found himself; hoping to see a familiar face. What a strange world. Bein’ always on the move felt right, even if with that you left behind every single person you could have considered a friend before. Maybe it was Isaac; maybe it was them both, that kept returning to the same people to see if they were all a’right; that the world ain’t done ‘em in yet.

“You looking for something, honey?” a woman asked.

“I-” Arthur looked around her. “Yes. You know Sebastian? Castellanos?”

“Oh, he’s inside, honey.” She fluttered her fan. “If you swing both ways just you know I’m waiting, pretty bh’oy.”

He’s into women a’right but that’s ain’t what he’s here for. Arthur gets inside. A few of the boys there, give him looks up and down. He glares back. A breath gets caught in his chest.

“I’m just lookin’ for a friend that’s all.” Arthur puts his hands up, announcing loudly.

And sure enough there he was: in a cream coat, head slumped between his hands.

“Sebastian?”

A hand on his shoulder that stops him from going any further:

“He’s out of it, pardner. Let him have that.”

Arthur pushes the man off: “What’s happened?”

“Dunno. Been cranky an’ gloomy ever since he came back from that Valentini feller this morning.”

“Touch ‘im and you’ll hear a man hiss.” A brawny man laughed from behind a table.

“I heard that.” Sebastian growled from there. The saloon wasn’t all that big.

“So? Ain’t seen you this pissy since you came- wait no. I did. Whenever someone mentions that precious lil’ daughter of yours-”

Sebastian bolted straight up, step harsh and fast, fists raised. Arthur and the other man barely managed to hold him back.

“STAY OUT OF IT!” The man was all a rage; Arthur held him firm, the other boy however flinched away. Sebastian snarls like some animal, turns ‘round an grabs at Arthur’s clothes: “I said. Stay out of it.” It was a bellow, a rumble from deep within the chest.

They’re too close. He can smell the whiskey on his breath. He’s probably drunk. A quick gaze down- bandages? And bloody at that.

“You need to calm down, friend...” Arthur says, low, serious.

“We ain’t friends, Mister Morgan.” Sebastian lets go of him and Arthur returns the gesture, then man storms out. Limping.

A glance at the other two strangers, who are in shock, especially the brutish one, pale as a ghost.

“Guess I’ll go talk to him then...” Arthur says, finally walking outside.

Sebastian’s leaned against a wall and he tries to approach with caution. He stands by him, saying nothing. With a trembling hand Sebastian lights up a cigarette and takes a really long draw from it.

“Why are you here?” No anger now, more like heartache.

“I don’t know.”

Silence. For a while.

“I have nothing you want.” Sebastian puffs out.

“Maybe it’s the other way around.”

A dry laugh: “And what the fuck would I need from you?”

“You’re bleedin’. Did you have anyone take a look at those wounds?”

Sebastian pins him with a gaze; another long, heavy inhale from the cigarette, the head falls to look at the ground again with the smoky exhale.

“That ain’t your business.”

“It ain’t been your business saving my ass back there.” Arthur snapped; lips pursed when the mouth closes. Sebastian stood quiet. “Look, I ain’t a good man, but I gotta give back what was given to me.” Putting it into words made it clearer.

“Was a pelt not enough?...”

“No.” And that’s ‘cause Sebastian saved his life for the sake of his son and he can’t even think what it would of meant to the boy if he was to die. Like that of all things... “Take care of ye’rself, Sebastian.”

Another draw; a puff. “You too, Arthur.”

As if that’s meant as a goodbye...

“Let’s get you to a doctor to have a look at those.” Arthur speaks up again. “You patched them ye’rself?”

No reply for a long while: “Yeah.”

Arthur unglued himself from the wall, a hand round his back: “C’mon.”

For once the man followed along. Arthur knew the way to the Doctor by now, and unlike the other time this was leisurely. Steps were taken in silence.

At least halfway through the walk:

“How are you feeling...” Sebastian asks, voice quiet.

“The wounds healed long ago.” It’s a smile. “I’m good.” In no small part thanks to him.

Sebastian spared Isaac...

The Doctor gave them both a look upon entering, but Sebastian went into the office alone. Arthur waited outside. It was a sunny day when him and Isaac got here. Now the sun was hidden between clouds, air hot, soupy, electricity in the air, prickling on his skin. Arthur rubbed his arms, drawing in air between his teeth. Then an exhale as head was left to hang low. Eyes close.

He knew why he was here. But it ain’t a clear thought inside his head, but a feeling inside his chest. Oh, how much of a fool he feels he’s gonna be... Same foolishness got him here and many other places. Somehow through all of this he has a son. A son of all things... He was barely 19 when Isaac was born and he ain’t known what to do back then. He half guessed all of it to be perfectly honest.

But he ain’t ever gonna forget the day he brought Isaac back. They shot his mother, Eliza, poor girl, for 10 bucks or something. The kid, 4 at the time, ran and hid under some crates, so people made two crosses. Yet somehow Arthur still looked inside the house and found the poor boy, pale as a ghost and dirty, perched upon the bed with a wild look in his face. Isaac had his mother’s rich brown eyes; in them he still saw embers glowing green when angered or when the sun shone on his face and the boy laughed-

The click of the doorknob stole the thoughts from him:

“Everything a’ri-”

Sebastian just went and grabbed his collar with force, then just stared, lips a thin line and eyes glistening, wet. Head bows as both fists crumple his shirt. Heart drums within his chest and he ain’t knowin’ quite hot to react. Well, man pinned him before, but this ain’t a time requiring of such kindnesses. Lips puckered Arthur stood there, huffing.

“You shouldn’t’ave to look after me...” Is that where this all comes from? Did he disturb his lone wolf antics ‘cause he decided to be a decent human for once in his goddamn life of robbery and murder? If that’s so why in Christ’s name would you save his ass, Sebastian? Arthur’s jaws clench- “Thank you...” Sebastian spoke slow, low, breathy. And muscles soften.

And he wouldn’t let go.

“What the doctor say?” Arthur’s voice was probably rougher than intended, but can you blame him: he’s pinned to a goddamn wall by the man he was tryinna’ help!

“Health cure, bed rest...”

“Need a drink?...” Arthur’s still within his grip. “You sure look like ye’r needin’ it.”

“Yeah...” Sebastian, at last, let go. “I’ll buy you a whiskey.”

For all that trouble, you better be-

They got the whiskey in the next bar over; a shoddy, grim place that may or may not be crawling with rats. And the goddamn drink was 2$ each shot. No chance they getting drunk on it; they ain’t that rich.

They still got themselves two rounds of the thing. And he really wanted to say this for some reason:

“You know the night I brought Isaac back, after his mother got robbed to death, the boy cried all the way. I thought he died when he finally had no more lungs to scream. He looked at me with the fiercest eyes. He wouldn’t go sleep. Stood on my bed, glaring at everyone like a cornered racoon. I took him in my arms – he was 4 at the time, lil’ thing – and he fell asleep there. I ain’t been a father before that. Only visited from time to time. I just... I had to protect that kid.”

What’s 2 more dollars? Arthur threw the cents for his glass to be filled again. He barely waited for it, drinking the liquor in one go. It burned.

Then Arthur continued: “And somehow I think I failed.”

“You’re still a better father than I ever was, Arthur. They took my daughter... Wife, the new Sheriff. I used to be a Sheriff. In Rhodes. It’s been... 5 years...” Sebastian sounds entirely exhausted, words roll out with sighs. “She was so young... She was... 5 I think. Maybe 6...” Fists slam on the bar: “All because some fucking Nightfolk!”

“Sir, keep it down or I’ll have to ‘kindly’ escort ya out.”

“Sorry...” Sebastian bows his head and huffs- or maybe it was a sob.

“I’m so sorry for what happened, Sebastian. I really am.” A hand plants on the man’s back; it trembled.

Sebastian waves him away: “We should be leaving...” He even stands up.

And Arthur follows him outside.

“She was so small...” Sebastian continues, rested against the wall, hat on his head, tipped forward. “She was so small in my arms.” His arms cradled air. “Such a sweet little thing. She would be playing with my fingers, stick ‘em in her mouth and chew on them like a puppy.” That may be the first time Arthur’s heard him laugh. “So small, so fierce, she kept tugging at her mother’s hair, so she handed her to me ‘cause I had no locks.” Smile fades. “And I ain’t sure if I ever loved her as I should... I like women; guess I like men better...” Tone shifts to a growl. “And that was a problem. That and the undead in the bayou.”

Arthur couldn’t help it: “Watchu mean the undead in the bayou-”

“It’s... a long story.” Then head tilts up to look at him. Yeah, Sebastian’s eyes are wet, dried tears in the corners, but his gaze is soft. “You really ain’t got a problem with me bein’ your friend?”

‘cause Sebastian liked men?...

“ ‘couse not.”

“Hm...” head tilts back down. “That’s... good to hear.” For a moment Sebastian’s hand ghosts over Arthur’s, leaned over the wall. But only for a moment. It sent a shiver down his chest. “Thank you... Once again.”

He should probably get back to camp, to Isaac. He’s been gone for too long. And well, he sort of told the boy that he’ll be seeing Sebastian, but well not directly.

The alcohol made him dizzy. He stood silent.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole.” Sebastian continues; it had Arthur snorting.

“You better be.” Tone’s harsh. And then a sigh. “Guess I should be goin’ then.”

“Take care of yourself, Arthur.”

“You too, Sebastian.”

So it was a goodbye after all...