Hosea still remembers when Arthur first joined them.
Small for his age, obviously underfed. All dangly limbs and sharp retorts. His mouth angry but his eyes afraid.
No one his age should have gone through what he did. Saw what he saw. Be forced to live on the streets, starving, stealing to survive.
Hosea was unsure at first. Not seeing whatever it was Dutch saw the moment they met the boy. But he trusted Dutch, so he went along.
He kept him at arm's length at first. Helped teach him to read, write, shoot, ride, fish, swim, anything he could think of to help the boy. He taught him to dress wounds, to cheat at poker. To hunt and skin animals. How to talk his way into a good situation and out of a bad one.
He watched the boy's walls slowly come down. Still quick with his tongue it was now harmless jokes instead of mean barbs. He wouldn't flinch when they neared him, enjoying a caring touch. He filled out, finally eating properly. He was still lean but no longer looking starved, muscle filling out the shirt that used to hang off him.
He lived for their praise, doing everything he could to please them. At first, it was fear of being kicked back onto the streets. Later it was joy at doing good.
Still, there were times he did wrong. Needed discipline. Hosea didn't mind being the bad guy. Allowing Dutch to do the comforting.
They wouldn't dare lay a hand on him. They wouldn't hit a child anyway, but Arthur's reaction the first time they got mad cemented it.
They had told him to stay put but he had ended up getting spooked and moving.
They were more worried than angry. Panicked at first when they couldn't find him, too worked up to see him flinch back, fear flashing in his eyes before his head lowers.
The ride back was silent, Dutch and Hosea stewing, but they were gonna leave it at that.
They told him what he did wrong and not to do it again. They would be calm by the morning.
They told Arthur to untack the horses before supper.
Less than an hour later he had all three untacked, fully brushed, saddles cleaned and food and water dishes filled.
They shrugged it off before calling him for dinner. They sat at their makeshift table; three plates set out.
After a moment they notice Arthur isn't at the table. They look up to see him standing less than a foot away. Arms wrapped around his torso; head bowed slightly. They can see dried tear tracks on his cheeks, he's chewing on his bottom lip.
They realize he thinks they're still angry at him.
They rise at the same time, both heading for the boy. He then breaks their hearts.
He steps back from them, a small whimper escaping him, he clutches his arms tighter around himself, starting to shake.
Their eyes widen. Hosea speaks softly, "Arthur." He doesn't answer. Dutch's voice is a little louder. "Arthur."
Arthur flinches, looking up but not making eye contact with either of them. New tears fall from his eyes, eyes filled with so much fear it makes Hosea's heartache.
He looks back down quickly, head bowing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I won't do it again. I'll listen, I promise."
Dutch takes a small step forward, arm reaching out, intent on easing the boy. It does the opposite.
Arthur takes another step back, a broken sob escaping him. They are both rendered speechless. Hosea comes to a sickening realization.
"Arthur? Do you think we are going to hit you?"
Dutch's head whips around, horror and realization mixing on his face. They look back to Arthur, he curls in on himself a little more, head nodding slightly. "I-I was bad. You told me to stay and I didn't. I need to be punished."
So much makes sense. How quiet he was on the way back. How quickly he took care of the horses. The extra work he did with them. Why he didn't sit at the table.
He didn't think they were gonna feed him. The third plate meant to show him what he couldn't have.
Hosea sees Dutch turn away, trying to control his anger. He knows he's thinking of the boy's father. Because he is too. Wishing the bastard was around just so they could hurt him themselves. Dutch takes a deep breath through his nose, turning to Hosea with a pleading look in his eyes.
Hosea understands the silent plea. He holds his hands up in a placating manner, keeps his expression open and honest. He takes slow half steps. "Arthur?" He calls quietly. Arthur doesn't move. Hosea keeps his voice low, soft. "Look at me, son."
Arthur looks up slowly. His eyes are red from crying, his lip raw from biting. He looks terrified. Hosea never wants him to look like this again. He moves slowly towards Arthur, giving him a small smile. "I won't hurt you, hun."
Arthur looks confused at the endearment but stays still. Hosea comes to a stop in front of him, kneels to eye level. He can see the mistrust, wondering if anyone's been kind to him before to get close, only to turn on him.
He has to push the thought away, he can't get angry now. He raises his hands. "I'm going to touch you now." He slowly cradles Arthur's face in his hands. Giving the boy time to move. He flinches slightly at the contact but doesn't budge.
Hosea uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears away. He makes sure Arthur is maintaining eye contact before he speaks. "Arthur, I need you to listen carefully okay?"
Arthur sniffs before nodding. "We will never, ever lay a hand on you." He pauses a moment, sees a hesitant hope spark in the boy. "What your father did was wrong. You should have never had to experience that. We are bad men. We steal, break the law and even kill people. But we would never dream of hurting you. You made a mistake. An honest mistake. It'll happen. Little mistakes or big ones. We may get angry, upset, we may lecture you, but then we will bring you home. Feed you, heal you, comfort you. We won't hit you, starve you or kick you out. You are here to stay. You will never have to live that life again. We promise."
Arthur lets out a sob, this one not of fear, but relief. He tries to stop himself, to wipe away his tears but Dutch catches his hand, "It's okay, son. Let it out." Arthur falls against them with relieved sobs. His head is buried in Dutch's shoulder, his left hand gripping his shirt. His right is clenched in Hosea's jacket. Unwilling to let either of them go.
He cries himself to sleep, slumping bonelessly against them. They carry him to bed, tucking him in, neither getting much sleep that night.
The next morning Arthur seems shy, but with a warm smile and some breakfast pushed his way things relax. Arthur's embarrassment being forgotten in light of his hunger.
It was even better after that. Arthur truly relaxing with them. Fully understanding he was safe. But there was still a wall between him and Hosea. One that wasn't there with Dutch. Arthur had started calling Dutch Dad. He didn't do it in front of Hosea, but he had overheard it. Hosea knew why. Though he cared for the boy he wasn't sure he saw him as a son.
Or maybe he did. But didn't want to admit it. He was hesitant to take him in, told Dutch he would help with the boy but he wouldn't get attached. He can feel the 'I told you so'.
He wasn't even sure Arthur saw him that way. A part of him hoped the boy did, but he didn't want to force anything.
One night changed that.
It was a simple job; all was going well until their getaway. Dutch got thrown from his horse. It wasn't too bad, he got back up immediately and they were off.
He was sore, ribs bruised but not broken. Arthur was at his side all night, wanting to help in any way he could. Though Dutch usually hated being coddled he found it endearing.
Eventually, they retired to bed. Hosea was woken later by a clap of thunder. He was about to go back to sleep when he heard a whimper.
At first, he wasn't sure he had actually heard it. But another clap of thunder was followed by another whimper. He looked over to Dutch to find the man dead to the world.
His mind immediately goes to Arthur. The storm was probably scaring the boy. He had told them once his father had locked him outside one night during a thunderstorm. It caused a fear of the storms. It had gotten better but hadn't fully gone away yet. Usually, it would be Dutch going to comfort Arthur, but Hosea was hesitant to bother the man.
So, he gets up slowly, listening for any more sounds. He makes his way to Arthur's small tent nearby, finding him in the throngs of a nightmare. The thunder startling him even in his sleep.
He shakes the boy gently, trying not to scare him more. Arthur's eyes fly open, he sits upright in shock, eyes flitting around. "Dad?" He sounds scared. Hosea thinks maybe he should've gotten Dutch up.
Hosea puts his hand back on Arthur's shoulder. "No son, it's me."
He expects his name, maybe even disappointment. What he doesn't expect is for Arthur to yell Pa and launch himself at Hosea.
He catches him easily, Arthur burrowing into Hosea's arms clinging to him for dear life.
He's shaking in fear, the thunder scaring him more than it had in a while. Probably lingering fear from watching Dutch be bucked off his horse.
Hosea wraps his arms around Arthur, shushing him. He sways slightly, running his hand over Arthur's hair.
Arthur stops shaking, seeming to be calm in his arms, even with the thunderstorm. Hosea wonders if Arthur calling him Pa was accidental. He didn't want to ask, not now anyway. But he wouldn't need to, Arthur's voice catching his attention.
"Pa?" It's hesitant, but it makes Hosea's heart swell. He rubs Arthur's back. "Yes, son?" He can feel Arthur breathe a sigh of relief, almost like he was afraid he would be rejected by Hosea. "Is Dad okay?" Hosea doesn't halt his motions, "A little grumpy but just fine." He hears Arthur let out a weak laugh.
They sit in their embrace for a little longer before Hosea feels Arthur start to fall asleep again. "You ready to go back to sleep?" Arthur startles awake. He shakes his head no, burying his face in Hosea's shoulder. He shakes his head fondly. "Did you want to come back to our tent?" Arthur nods slightly.
Hosea and Arthur raise, Arthur barely letting go. He flinches at the thunder, louder than before. The storm passing over them.
They arrive at Dutch and Hosea's tent. They enter, Dutch still fast sleep.
It wasn't much of a setup, just two bedrolls next to each other. Hosea retakes his place, allowing Arthur to choose where he wants to be.
He chooses to wiggle in between the two of them. At first, he is facing Dutch, watching him sleep. Eased at seeing him breathe. Then the thunder claps again, the storm right over them. Arthur lets out a startled gasp, turning to burrow his face in Hosea's chest. He pulls Arthur into his arms again, rubbing his back until he falls asleep.
The thunder is still loud but Arthur has fallen asleep, Hosea eventually looks up, only to find Dutch watching him with a knowing smile. The thunder must've finally woken him. Hosea gives him a warning glare. Dutch giving a return look as if to say, I don't know what you mean.
He scoots closer, wrapping an arm around both Arthur and Hosea. They fall asleep wrapped around each other.
It was from that day on that Arthur called him Pa.
And he truly called Arthur his son.