Chapter Text
Bill could feel the sweat beading on his brow. His blood began to cool his heated skin as it slide over his wrist and further down off his fingers. Distantly he could hear one those cursed Black Legs talking. Barking out orders like a rabid dog as other Black Legs moved through the room. Though they were the main threat, it wasn’t them Bill watched but the man with the wide gait. The man that had zeroed him out from the get go.
“And what would happen to those that were harboring him?”
Bill never wavered from the aloof stare the man had leveled on him.”
“They’ll be treated the same as the man they’re harboring.”
Bill felt nearly bereft as he was suddenly no longer the sole focus of the man’s stare.
“That so?” the man moved ever steadily closer to Bill. His posture relaxed and his gaze still aloof. “Guess you’re not welcome here mate.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Bill’s forehead as the world seemed to slow down in that instant. Gritting his teeth Bill reached for the knife ever present at his side.
Seeing his actions the man lunged forward but it wasn't the man that stilled Bill’s hand. Another arm reached around his waist and shoved his knife back into it's sheath. The man tightly grabbed Bill's wrist with a sharp shake of his head.
Suddenly Bill was turned around and came face to face with a fair faced man. His eyes a deep hazel and his face as smooth as any woman's. The hard look in his eyes stopped Bill from assuming this one was a teen.
The silence was broken by the flurry of Black Legs and Bill quickly found himself in chains.
“You’re in good hands now, no need to fret.”
Oh, when Bill got free he'll make a point to slap him.
Suddenly Bill found his jacket being snapped. The fair man was straightening Bill's jacket (as though he was sending Bill off with a dame) the man's teeth bared in a vicious smile. The brothel owner wouldn't be the only one he slaps.
“I don't even want to hear it.”
As ever Mute was a silent presence next to Arthur. As the years progressed both Arthur and Mute found less and less reason to talk to communicate. Then as the boys’ voices started to change, especially Arthur's deeper baritone, Mute officially became mute.
“Just be ready to run Art.” This was not going be a time Mute wouldn't say anything.
Arthur rolled his head up in enough time to see Mute’s eyes narrow in irritation. A smirk curled Arthur's lips, causing Mute's lips to curl in a snarl.
“No need to worry darling. You'll still have my handsome face to look at for years to come.”
Arthur's smirk turned into a smile. Mute’s shoulders had went slack with the release of tension, though their face kept it's scowl (it wasn't true anger).
“I mean it Arthur, something isn't right.”
Arthur turned away, unwilling to witness the worry burning in Mute's eyes. Keeping his body turned Arthur focused on taking off his thick white leather jacket. His shoulders tightened as he felt Mute's stare burning through him. He could take Wet Stick’s and Back Lack’s insecurities, but never Mute's. Never Fin’s. Everyone else could, and has, questioned everything he’s done, but Mute was the one there from the beginning. The worry on their face is the worry Arthur held in secret.
Finally, finally Arthur turned to face Mute. His head raised in an arrogant manner.
Hazel eyes flitted about Arthur's face, searching, judging. Arthur could see the moment the ice thawed from Mute's eyes. The moment the fight was put out by a deep breathe.
Mute said nothing else. There was nothing else to say. With a shrug and a slap to Arthur's arm Mute began to leave.
“Hey,”
Turning around Mute found themselves under the same scrutinizing look they subjected Arthur to. A huffing chuckle and a smirk had Mute responding in same.
“Come on.”
Mute woke up in a blur and their day stayed in a blur. Arthur's rapid escape left everyone in distress but Mute didn't have that luxury. There was still fees to collect, Black Legs to pay off, and their girls to watch out for.
“Kay,” Mute has never wished for their voice to rumble until now.
Kay, a pretty dark skinned courtesan, moved away from the John she was sweet talking.
Silently both of them moved to the upstairs quarters. Kay kept her attention on the stoic form of Mute as the man moved to Arthur's room. It wasn't often the quiet man spoke. But this wasn't a regular day.
Well aware of Kay’s eyes on their back Mute made their way to Arthur's coffers. The beautiful courtesan let out a soft gasp.
Not because of giant piles of loose coins, but the stacks of baggage trunks that lined the small room.
“Fin?”
Mute grabbed the nearest trunk, their arm straining under its’ weight.
“I need you to hide two of these boxes.” Mute kept her voice low and calming to lessen the panic settling in Kay’s eyes.
“We must make sure that you and the girls are taken care of.”
Kay kept silence, her gaze heavy on Mute’s shoulders. She, nor any other, will argue with Mute now. With Arthur gone it’ll be Mute who’ll take over, it’ll be Mute that’ll now take Arthur’s responsibilities.
Mute grabbed another trunk, silently stacking them outside the hidden closet.
“Hide these and tell no one.”
Kay’s head snapped up, black eyes meeting darkening. Mute was unflinching in their conviction.
“Not even me.” Mute moved to hold Kay’s face in their callused hands. “Do you understand?”
Kay couldn't keep the fear and tears from her eyes. She wrapped her slender fingers around Mute’s wrists. Kay answered in affirmation, her eyes closing in defeat.
Back Lack and Wet Stick met Mute in the brothel foyer. Resigned as Kay and a couple other girls walked out. Dressed in their finest and trunks being carried out by some of George’s men.
“You think this is a good idea?” Wet Stick voiced, his black eyes flashing in the torch light.
Silence fell on the three before Mute slapped a hand on Wet Stock’s shoulder. The boys turned to look at the shorter man. His resolve strengthen theirs.
“Until Art returns then."