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Dutch isn't at camp.
That in itself isn't unusual, but for whatever reason, Arthur can't help his curiosity.
He asks around and is met with a mixture of replies, ranging from a gruff, "I don't know," from Charles to a whole drunken ramble from Reverend Swanson. When not even Hosea knows where Dutch is, Arthur's curiosity spikes even more. He goes to ask Molly, but the glare she gives him as he walks over is enough to make him turn around.
Arthur huffs as he sits down on a nearby crate, out of ideas.
"H- he might be at Sean's grave," Kieran tells him, not moving from his position brushing the horses.
Arthur turns around, "how would you know?"
"He came over when I was feeding the horses, and told me that he was going to pay some respects before he rode off. I- I just kinda put two and two together."
Arthur gives Kieran a small smile, "that might be the smartest thing you've ever done, O'Driscoll."
Kieran's face screws up into a scowl, and he opens his mouth to say his usual retort but shuts it immediately when he sees Arthur's joking grin. Arthur gets up off of the crate, and gives Kieran a light pat on the arm, "I was just joking, Kieran."
Kieran lets out a quiet laugh as Arthur walks over to his horse, "you've done a good job here, Kieran, despite what you may think, you're appreciated around here... at least by some people."
"Thanks, Arthur," he calls out to him as Arthur rides away.
The ride to Sean's grave is a decent way away, and as he rides, he supposes that he still hasn't properly come to terms with Sean's death. He loved him like an annoying little brother, and sure, sometimes Sean would irritate the hell out of him, but Arthur still loved him. The camp was so quiet without him, almost a haunting reminder that he's gone. He thinks back to the party that they had when Sean came back. They barely got any work done the next day due to the pounding headaches nearly everyone had from the amount of alcohol they had consumed.
Dutch had just laughed and pat his back comfortingly as Arthur threw up in the morning, smoking his cigar like he always did. It seemed like Dutch and Hosea were the only two people who hadn't got blindingly drunk, and Arthur couldn't put into words how much he had envied them. Arthur swore never to drink any alcohol again, and he knew he wasn't the only one who thought that.
Sean, however, didn't have an ounce of regret, laughing and joking despite everyone's loud pleas for him to shut up.
Those were good times.
And as soon as his heart had warmed from the memories, it quickly grew cold again when he remembered that he would never get to hear his infuriating voice again. Arthur missed it already.
He reaches the place where Sean is buried, too quickly for him to think of anything to do or say. He sees the Count standing there, waiting as patiently as he always did. The Count was a fine horse, and Arthur gave him a quick pat as he walked by.
Dutch is there. His head bowed as he leans back against a tree.
"Dutch," Arthur says.
Dutch's head snaps up, and a hand flies down to the gun in his holster. He relaxes when he sees that it's Arthur there, and not a bounty hunter coming to capture him, or some godawful O'Driscolls come to ruin his grief.
"What're you doing here, Arthur?"
"Just curious as to where you had gone off to is all," Arthur replies, sitting down at the tree opposite Dutch. He hadn't looked at Sean's grave, couldn't bring himself to.
"Well, now you know."
Arthur makes a hum of agreement in the back of his throat, looking over at Dutch. He looks perfectly normal, but at the same time looks so uncharacteristically Dutch.
His eyes don't sparkle as they did before, they're almost lifeless, tired. Arthur can see the faint beginnings of stubble on his face, and Arthur has to tear his eyes away from Dutch before he sees something he doesn't want to. Instead, he looks up, focuses on the sky. It's a beautiful day, Sean would have loved it.
"Did I ever tell you how I met Sean?" Dutch asks, causing Arthur to look him in the eyes just one more time.
There's something in there, almost begging Arthur to let him tell the story like he just needs to talk, to break the silence, to stop thinking for once, to take his mind off of everything.
Arthur had heard the story countless times from Sean before, but he lies, "no I don't think I've heard it before."
There's something so relieved in the smile that Dutch gives him after that, that Arthur can feel his heart clench up, but he sees the knowing glimmer in Dutch's eyes, neither of them say anything about Arthur's obvious lie.
"Me and Hosea were doing what we usually do-"
"Pickpocketing drunken fools?"
Dutch lets out a loud laugh, "you know it. Anyways, we were in this bar, and in the corner of my eyes, I see this kid who's eyeing the watch in my hand like a dog eyes meat. He was practically drooling at the mouth. I tell Hosea about the kid, and at some point, Hosea makes his way over to him, and the kid was dumb enough not to notice when Hosea took all the bullets out of his gun. Hosea comes back to me, that grin on his face that he always has when he's out causing trouble, and we drink a few more drinks before heading out, making sure to head down this conspicuous looking alley."
"I can see where this is going."
Dutch chuckles again, a wide smile on his face as he thinks back to the memory, "and sure enough I hear this Irish voice tell me to put my hands up. And so, me and Hosea turn around and see that kid who is clearly about as dumb as he looks. We both laugh in his face. He gets angry and threatens to shoot as, and we tell him to go ahead. All I hear is the click of an empty chamber. He looks so confused that me and Hosea can't help but laugh, and the kid joins in soon. He laughed until he was crying. And god, he was so young. So I walked over to him, I put a hand on his shoulder and I tell him, "Son, why don't we get you some food," and the poor kid looks just as dumbfounded as before. He looks unsure whether to trust us, but I suppose he didn't have any better so eventually agrees and comes with us. The kid ate like he hadn't eaten in days. We found out that he didn't have no family to go back to, so we brought him back with us and well... you know the rest."
"He was a dumb kid," Arthur said, "and an even dumber man but god I loved him."
"We all did, son."
They both sit in silence after that, it looms over them. Arthur forces himself to look at Sean's grave, at the neat writing scratched onto the wood.
"Do you..." Arthur starts, trying to find the words, and he can feel Dutch's eyes on the side of his head, "do you think he would like the place we buried him?"
Dutch too turns his attention to Sean's grave.
"I hope so, son."
There's more silence after that, but Arthur can't bear it anymore.
"I just... I just wish that I could have done something, anything, to prevent this."
"It's not your fault, Arthur."
"It ain't yours either, Dutch," Arthur says, his voice hard, tearing his eyes away from Sean's grave to stare Dutch in the eyes, "I seen that look in your eyes. I know you feel guilty, but it ain't your fault any more than it is mine."
"I don't know about that, Arthur."
"Why not?"
Dutch laughs but there's no joy in the noise, "I was foolish enough to think we could play the Grays, I thought we would get away and finally be free but... but apparently, I underestimated them."
"There's no way you could have predicted this. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes there are causalities."
"Sean was more than a casualty, Arthur, he was family."
Arthur deflates, "I know."
"He deserved better than this."
Arthur's eyes flutter down to the stones on top of Sean's grave, it was as neat as they could make it with the limited resources and time. Arthur doesn't say anything, instead tries to swallow around the lump in his throat.
"We should come back here one day, give him a proper burial, with a proper grave."
"I think that he would like that."
"I'm... I'm just worried about Karen, Dutch. She's damn near drinking herself to death, I've already had Tilly come up to me, asking me to talk to her about it, and- and I tried, I really did, but she just won't listen."
"Karen and Sean were close, and I know what it's like to see something like this happen to someone you care about. When Bessie died, god, Hosea was drunk for a year, and it broke my heart, but he survived, almost didn't, but he did. Karen has more people looking out for her than Hosea did, she'll pull through, she'll make it."
Arthur stares right into Dutch's eyes, can see the honest sincerity in them, he knows that Dutch believes every word he's saying, and when he speaks like that, Arthur can't help but believe him too.
"Will you talk to her when we get back?"
"I'll do my best, son."
"Maybe bring Hosea with you, he always was better at talking about feelings then you were."
Dutch huffs out a laugh, one that's pure and genuine, perhaps for the first time in a while. Arthur always was good at cheering Dutch up.
"I'll keep that in mind."
The two fall into a pleasant silence after that. It's starting to get dark when Dutch finally stands up, telling Arthur that they should start heading back. Arthur agrees, standing up with a quiet groan as his bones crack.
"Can you give me a minute?" Arthur asks, gesturing to Sean's grave, "I just wanna have a few words."
"Of course, Arthur," Dutch says, patting Arthur gently on the arm before walking over to the Count. When he's sure that Dutch is far enough away, he crouches down next to Sean's grave.
"I'm gonna miss you, you annoying brat. I swear on my life that we'll get out of this mess and we'll get you the proper burial that you deserve. You was my little brother, no matter how much you annoyed me, and... and I'm sorry I couldn't have done anything to save you."
He pushes up before he could get too caught up in his mind, and gives one more sad look at Sean's grave before turning around.
"You get everything off your chest?" Dutch asks him as Arthur climbs up on his saddle.
"No," Arthur says, "but I said all that I needed to."
Dutch gives him a sad smile, "c'mon son, let's go back to camp and have that talk with Miss Karen."