[CW for mention of guns <3]

Arthur paused for a fraction of a second, glancing curiously at his companion at his answer.  Had Malachi experienced torches and pitchforks and worse from his adopted family?  From all of London?

No wonder he wanted to kill them.

"Nearly," he responded, "I swore I had a gun somewhere, but I seemed to have misplaced it.  Do you think it necessary, or..?"

The real question Arthur didn't ask.  He wasn't sure if Malachi had an answer, or if he wanted to hear it.  Whatever he had planned, would it be better to know ahead of time or experience it in the moment?  Was there even a plan at all?

Frowning slightly, the doctor moved to his desk in the office, opening and emptying drawer upon drawer and gathering every coin he saw.  When gathered together, it was not an insignificant amount of money.  Whatever he was forgetting, he could surely purchase in London, both for himself and Malachi.

Money in paper and coin was dumped into the nearly overflowing briefcase, and Arthur turned a curious gaze to Malachi.

"I'm ready, unless you want to find that gun."