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Thankfully, Dennis was over when Noel got the call. It wasn’t that Noel couldn’t take care of Arthur himself; it was just that he preferred a helping hand. The kid was a mess. He’d lost weight, had more scars, and seemed out of it. Arthur had wept when he saw the Butcher, though they seemed to be tears of joy. Had muttered apologies and things about Dennis’ head exploding or being cut off.
Noel and Dennis had exchanged one glance in which they’d both agreed that the kid needed rest. So, they’d gotten him into the car, driven him to Noel’s house, and tucked him into the bed in the spare room.
Now, Noel was keeping vigil by the kid’s bedside as Dennis rummaged about the house for anything they might need.
John’s hand gave Noel’s a squeeze as though to get his attention.
“N-Noel?” Arthur’s voice sounded a bit raspy.
“Yeah, kid?” Noel glanced down into half-closed yellow eyes.
“Why...” The kid swallowed. “Why does the Butcher call you baby girl?”
Noel could feel his cheeks flush. “That’s a conversation for another day. Get some sleep, kid.”