Arthur sighed when they got back to the hotel room that night. With any luck, he was going to sleep well and the swelling in his ankle will have gone down.
He slipped off his boots, hung up his jacket, and sat down on his pile of blankets in front of the fire.
"Get up, Arthur," Dutch said, pulling Arthur up by one of the boy's skinny arms.
"Sir?" Arthur replied, somewhat confused. "What's your deal?"
"You ain't sleeping on the floor with that ankle," Hosea explained. "Now get on the bed so I can dress it better."
"You really don't have to do that, Mr. Van der Linde," Arthur protested, even as he climbed into the bed. It was way softer than the floor.
"Just... be quiet, Mr. Morgan," Dutch sighed, sitting against the baseboard of the bed.
Arthur listened, and fell quiet as Hosea wrapped up his ankle. In the middle of it, Dutch fell asleep.
"Do you think Dutch is mad at me?" Arthur whispered to Hosea, barley audible over Dutch's borderline snoring.
In the dim light, he saw Hosea smile sadly. "No, Arthur. He's just afraid for you."
"Why? I can take care of myself," Arthur replied, his hands balled in his lap. Couldn't Dutch see he wasn't a kid anymore?
"He cares about you," Hosea explained, smoothing Arthur's hair back from his face. "Don't worry about it. It's just how Dutch is."
Arthur sighed. "Okay..."
Hosea gave Arthur one last small smile, before blowing out the candle on the nightstand. The room was only lit by the moon when Arthur fell asleep.
———
Arthur calling that 'the best sleep of his life' would be an understatement. Despite his painful ankle, he felt pretty good.
The sun was shining, and Hosea was still asleep. Arthur stretched, cracking his bones.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Dutch greeted him.
"G'morning, Mr. Van der Linde," Arthur replied, climbing out of bed. The cougar mustn't have been trying too hard because, despite a little soreness, Arthur felt fine.
Arthur quickly pulled on his usual shirt and blue jeans. He then put on his hat and boots.
"Your new hat suits you," Dutch commented, also putting on his boots, as Hosea was waking up.
"Thank you, sir," Arthur replied, pulling his pant legs back over the boots, and fixing his hair that stuck out from underneath the black leather in the mirror.
"You ready for a big day?" Hosea asked, also getting ready and grabbing the blueprints of the bank.
"Let's go over the plan one last time, then we'll head out," Dutch replied. Arthur listened as he finished packing up his bag.
———
The plan was that Arthur would distract the sheriff down the street, while Dutch and Hosea would go into the bank and get the money.
Arthur memorized this loose schedule as he walked in the door to the sheriff's office.
"Arthur!" Charlie greeted him from his desk. "How great to see you! A perfect day, too."
"Hello, sheriff," Arthur replied with a smile. "Anything excitin' going on?"
Charlie laughed. "Cut that 'sheriff' shit. But since you asked, yes. We captured this guy yesterday." He gestured to a cell along the far wall. "Colm O'Driscoll, apparently. He's been running a gang out west for years."
"Definitely sounds interesting," Arthur commented, sitting down in one of the chairs.
Charlie laughed. "Definitely. He won't give us any information, though. Just talkin' about this made up 'Van der Linde' man."
YOU ARE READING
Bad Beginnings (A RDR2 Fanfic)
Fanfiction--- "Do you have a name, son?" the man asked. Arthur looked up. No one ever asked. What was his name? Oh yeah. "Arthur Morgan, sir." "Dutch Van Der Linde," the man replied, reaching out his hand to shake. Arthur accepted it. His hand seemed little...
