Arthur stroked your back as you cried, laying back against the wall.

Only about 15 minutes before, Lenny had been shot, dying right infront of you.

The little room you’d all hid in- from Pinkertons- was quiet, except for your sobs and the sound of the chaotic Saint Denis streets.

“Arthur?” You sat up, looking at him. “Hm?” He tilted his head. “You’re the best brother I could ever ask for.” You tried to smile. Arthur was basically your big brother- he was always there for you.