#tfiye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowboydisaster · 8 months

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XIII: Clemens Point ii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader word count: 10.1k summary: Arthur patches you up and makes good on his promise *wink wink*. Dutch insists you work with the Gray family, which leads you to a job gone wrong. a/n: long time no see. I'm excited to be back and to get this chapter out. love you guys so much and I'm still astounded by how many follow this series. ignore any typos, margo is sleeping hehe. lastly, i write most of this in may, but as for the rest, its been awhile since i wrote arthur so forgiive me if im a little rickety around the edges. warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, minors dni, graphic violence, sexual themes. series masterpost │ masterlist

The sunlight filters through the cracks of your tent, casting the room in orange shadows. It's a surprisingly peaceful morning, and you awaken on your own instead of by a yelling Miss Grimshaw or some other camp ruckus. Your eyes flutter open slowly, landing on Arthur. You stay still so as not to alert him as you watch his form.

He's still dressed in his unbuttoned union suit, sitting in a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. He faces you, but his face is scrunched up in concentration as he fixates on the journal in his lap. His hand works diligently, wrapped around a piece of charcoal as he details something on the worn pages. You smile, catching his eyes when he glances up to your cuddled up body.

"Didn't mean to wake ya." Arthur mumbles, folding his journal over his charcoal. It's a rarity that you get to sleep in, and Arthur had wanted to let you rest as long as possible.

"You didn't." You hum, smiling up at him as you prop your head up on your elbow, "Can I see?" You ask.

Arthur hesitates for only a fraction of a second before standing and sitting down on the bed beside you. It dips under his weight, and you lean into his shoulder as he passes the leather bound journal over to you.

Your fingers sift through the pages until you find the charcoal, and carefully, you open the little book. A smile tugs at your lips as you run your fingers over the drawing. It takes up two pages, a perfect sketch of you sleeping. Your hair is messy, with little wisps framing your face in an effortlessly beautiful crown. Your lips are plump from sleep as you cling to the thick blankets, you had hoped they were Arthur in your unconscious state. Your eyelashes are thick as your eyes lay closed, your body frozen in time in the little journal.

"Beautiful." You hum, eyes never leaving the pages. There's a few words written at the bottom of the page, and your eyes flicker to them.

'I reckon I'll be counting my lucky stars until the end of my days.'

"And I'll be countin' mine." You hum, looking up at him. The journal meets your lap as your hand cups his cheek. Arthur's hand covers your own, his warmth encasing you.

"You're too good for me." Arthur says, his. green eyes searching the depths of your own. Even after the time you've spent together, he struggles to comprehend why you've chosen him.

"I'm not." You counter as Arthur pulls your hand away from his face. He takes your smaller hand in his, looking down at your bruised and bloodied knuckles from when you'd beat the outlaw Anders Anderson.

"I was supposed to patch these up last night." Arthur raises an eyebrow at you as if it's your fault that you both forgot. You can't help it that you fell asleep, he was just too comfortable.

"They're fine, just a few scratches." You say as Arthur inspects the damage. Bruises blossom along your knuckles in purple and red splotches, and you wince as Arthur gently runs his thumb across them.

"This'll only take me a minute." He hums, reaching to his satchel to pull out a few items. He brings some cotton balls and a bottle of alcohol out. You watch on as Arthur kneels on the ground before you, pouring some of the alcohol onto the little swab. He puts the alcohol down before taking your hand in his own to examine your knuckles.

"This is gonna sting like hell." He warns, and you nod, letting him know to continue.

You groan through clamped teeth when the alcohol soaked cotton reaches the scrapes on your knuckles. It seeps through the cuts, burning you with a stinging blaze as it cleans your wounds. Arthur pulls the cotton away, eyes flickering up to you to make sure it doesn't hurt too bad.

"I'm okay." You reassure him. Arthur's eyes flicker down to your stomach before he continues cleaning up your hands. He remembers seeing Anders punch you in the gut, and he makes a note to check there too. You get used to the burning sensation when Arthur wipes away the blood from your other hand. He takes his time, working diligently with his eyebrows pulled together in focus.

When he deems your hands clean, he stands, extending his hand out to you. You take it, standing chest to chest as Arthur's hands silently find the hem of your chemise. You raise your arms as he pulls it over your head and tosses it to the ground. The silence is loud as Arthur runs his fingers between the valley of your breasts until they land on the bruised skin of your stomach. You shudder under his touch, hands sheepishly covering your breasts as he traces the pattern of forming bruises. His touch is so soft that you barely feel it, just a feather light trail along your exposed skin.

"He got you pretty good." Arthur mumbles.

"You got him a lot worse."

Arthur's fingers cause goosebumps to ripple across your skin, and he's not lost on the way your breathing quickens. His hands find purchase on your waist once he's checked you over, and you lean up to whisper in his ear.

"You broke your promise." You murmur into his ear. Your hands press against his chest, snaking under his union suit. Arthur's lips find your neck as his hands pull you closer to his body. He'd promised to spend the night with you last night, but you were both too tired. It seems like a perfect moment to call the favor in.

"Did I?" He teases, mumbling against your neck as he lightly nips the skin there. He knows exactly what he owes you. His hand slides up your ribs, thumb teasing your nipple in small circles. The feelings he gives you– god, wiping away your cuts and bruises one moment and sucking on your neck in the next. He fills you with butterflies, he fills you with need.

"Mhm." You moan as he kisses your pulsepoint. He can feel how your heart quickens under his touch, and he smirks at the realization.

"My apologies, miss." Arthur grumbles as your hands grip onto his union suit, sliding the cloth down over his shoulders. It hits the floor, wrapped around his ankles before he steps out of the material.

His hand runs down your hip to your entrance, and he runs his fingers over your folds through your underwear. It's only seconds before his lips meet yours, and his fingers hook under your waistband, pulling the rest of the clothing down. It meets the floor silently as Arthur's lips move against yours, and butterflies rise in your stomach at his touch. You moan into his mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip, gently pulling away with a nip.

He nudges you back so softly, until the backs of your knees hit the bed with a gentle thud. You glance up to him as he cups your cheek, thumb running over the soft flesh on your cheekbone.

You love him. Looking up at him, you know it. You choke on emotion as he looks down at you with those sparkling green eyes. There's so much warmth in them, so much softness. You've never been cared for like he cares for you.

You lay back on the bed, extending your hand out for Arthur to take. His warm hand wraps around yours as he meets you on the bed, body lining overtop of you.

"Do we have a lot of time?" You whisper, hands gripping Arthur's hair as he kisses the trail between your breasts. You arch your back, looking for more of his lips.

"All the time in the world." He hums against your skin, teasing your nipple with his tongue. It's a new sensation, and you gasp as it sends a ripple of pleasure straight through your core. His hand kneads your other breast before his kisses trail back up to your neck.

"So perfect," He growls against your skin, gripping your waist tightly between his big hands, "My Star."

Your heart soars underneath him, and you catch his lips in one last sweet kiss before he pulls back to touch you. A few strands of Arthur's hair fall into his face, his lips are plump from your kisses and his eyes are shining. His muscles tighten beautifully as he adjusts, spreading your knees so gently that your heart skips a beat. You're still new at this, and Arthur plans on talking you through it to make sure you're comfortable. Even without him saying it, you know he will. He always does.

Arthur's fingers run along your folds, and you buck your hips to speed up his process. You should try to be quick, anyone could come along at any point and find you two, but Arthur can't bring himself to rush. It's been too long since he's had you, and he plans on taking his time.

You're soaking with need for him as Arthur slips his fingers into you. You moan, and your head tosses back as Arthur curls them slowly, tickling that sweet spot deep in you. Your hand searches for something to grip onto, settling on his less busy hand. You grip it tightly, and he interlocks your fingers together.

"How's this feel?" Arthur asks, glancing up to your face. There's a look of ecstasy there, pure bliss as your features relax and you bite your lip.

"Good." You hum, keeping your voice quiet to not alert anyone. Arthur chuckles as your hand tightens around his own, and his fingers keep a steady pace as his thumb meets the bud of nerves at your core.

He leans down to catch your lips, steadying himself on your interlocked hand. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you blind. You’ll never get used to letting yourself have this. His warmth wraps around your body, making you feel safe and loved. His fingers keep their slow pace, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of satisfaction as he holds you tightly underneath him. Your skin blazes with warmth at his touch, muscles tightening as he gives you everything you could have dreamed of.

“Still okay?” Arthur asks, pulling away from your lips for a second to speak in a low tone. You nod your head, pulling him down to you with your free hand. Your other hand lays interlocked with his beside your head, gripping him tightly in fear that if you let go he’ll disappear. It’s foolish, a bad habit.

“Yes–!” You gasp, stomach coiling before his hands finally send you over the edge. You squeeze his hand as you moan, coming undone. Arthur quickly kisses you, muffling your moans with his mouth so as not to alert anyone of the display you're making. His lips are gentle against your own, lovingly making yours bruised with kisses. Waves crash over you, stronger than the ocean's as you mewl and moan against Arthur's lips. Your legs tremble, toes curling as you pull away to gasp for breath. Arthur's fingers slip out of you, and his hand finds purchase on the mattress beside your head. With a smile on his lips, Arthur places a kiss to your forehead.

"I could do this all day." He hums deeply against your hair. There's nothing quite like watching you unfold, and it's a sight Arthur won't ever get enough of.

"Yes, but we can't." You counter, letting go of his hand to wrap both of yours around the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, "So hurry up. Y’know, it's rude to leave a lady waitin."

Arthur chuckles, and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"Yes ma'am." He chuckles again, always astounded by your tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you. Never in your life have you let yourself be so vulnerable with someone, it's a shocking realization. You're not afraid of it anymore, you don't fight it. You'll happily trust fall into this relationship if he's the one catching you– which he always will be.

Arthur's already hard pressed from just watching and hearing you as he lines up with your entrance. You grip his shoulders in anticipation before he slowly slides in the whole way. You gasp, shuddering at the feeling of being so damn full.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks as you wince from the stretch of it all.

"Yes. Please, move." You beg, digging your heels into him. He starts to move, sliding out just to come back in, slow and hard. Your eyes fall closed and you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling out. Anyone could walk past and hear. Hell, even the bed creaking might alert someone.

Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes locking onto his for a moment as your heart skips a beat. He's so perfect. His arms flex and strain beautifully as he holds himself above you. His green eyes flicker over your body, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself, drinking your body in all the while.

His tanned skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You can't help the way you pull him down to you, pressing your lips to his neck. Arthur groans as you kiss the sensitive spot, and again as your lips part, nibbling on his earlobe.

"You feel so damn good." You whimper as the bed rocks. Arthur grips the small headboard to silence it, and you watch as his muscles flex above your head. He uses the headboard for leverage, thrusting into you harder. You place your wrist over your mouth to silence your moans as he loves you with reckless abandon.

A slow fluttering starts in your core, spreading out as Arthur's thrusts get harder. He's losing his composure, and you watch as his eyes occasionally squint shut, or his mouth falls open and closes again before he can make any noise. It's a shame, having to be so quiet.

"You're–" Arthur purses his lips to stop from groaning, "Such a good girl."

Good girl? It does something to you, ignites a fire under your skin as you grip onto him.

"Say that again." You mewl, head tossing back. Arthur recounts what he's just said, putting two and two together as your nails scratch at his back and your hips buck to meet his.

"That's my good girl." Arthur smirks, happily uncovering this information. You snap, unfolding beneath him completely once his thumb starts to brush against your clit. You try not to think about Arthur's past partners, but you subconsciously thank them for teaching him what he knows because damn– he knows.

"Oh, Arthur–" You begin.

Arthur's hand lets go of the head board and clamps over your mouth, muffling your noises. His hand is big, covering your entire mouth and forcing you to breathe through your nose. If anything, it only spurs you on further.

"Darlin', you know I love hearin' you say my name, but you gotta be quiet." Arthur shushes, but it's a moot point. Your eyes roll back, legs clamping around Arthur as stars fill your vision and pleasure rolls over you like the lapping shores of Flat Iron Lake. Arthur's hand muffles all the noises that he wishes he could hear while he thinks about how he'll need to get you both a hotel room soon.

Contrary to what he's saying about keeping you quiet, he begins pounding into you hard. He's close. Watching you finish proves to be his undoing as he fights back groans, letting go of your mouth to replace his hand with his lips. Your tongues collide as your lips slot together, and both of your moans mix as you muffle each other's noises. You come down just as Arthur slips out, shooting his spend on your spread thighs.

“Christ.” Arthur pants, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You squeeze his hand lightly before he stands from the bed to get you a towel.

“What a way to start the morning.” You hum, propping your head on your hand. Your eyes run over his naked form, and you smirk as the planes of his back flex.

"You practically jumped me. Weren't my fault." Arthur chuckles, bringing the towel over to clean you up.

"I did not!" You defend, smacking him lightly. Arthur chuckles, tossing the towel in his little hamper.

"Whatever you say." Arthur jokes as your jaw falls playfully. You huff, not minding him as you stand up to get ready.

After getting dressed and cleaned up, you and Arthur head out of his tent together. It’s still early, but mostly everyone else is awake, save for Uncle and Reverend.

“I’ll get you some coffee.” Arthur mumbles, hand on the small of your back before he leaves you to get the percolator from Pearson’s tent.

“Thank you.” You smile, eyes scanning over camp to see where everyone is. Charles and John sit at the fire, and you make your way over as you place your black hat atop your head. John and Charles laugh over something as you walk towards them, taking a seat on the other side of the fire.

“Boys.” You greet, digging your boot into the dirt. John has a cigarette between his lips and a cup of coffee in his hand, and Charles is sharpening his hunting knife by the fire.

“Where you been all morning? We had to listen to Grimshaw’s nagging for the last half hour.” John asks and you blush, looking down at your hands.

“Just slept in is all.” You lie, perking up as Arthur walks across camp with two steaming cups of joe.

“There he is.” Charles hums as Arthur sits down beside you on the log. He hands you the metal cup of coffee, and you wrap your hands around the warm mug, cherishing the way its heat sinks into your bones.

“What you boys been up to since we got down here?” Arthur asks before his lips meet the rim of his mug and he drinks down some of his coffee. You’re distracted from the conversation when a little hand tugs at the back of your shirt. The conversation continues on as you turn around with a smile on your face.

“Hey Jack.” You greet as the young boy walks around the log to the front. Without warning, he crawls up into your lap, curling up. You place your coffee on the ground, brushing your fingers through the boy’s hair.

“How you likin’ the new camp?” You ask, looking down at him. You feel bad for Jack. All he's done his whole life is move from place to place, no home besides a bedroll on the ground. His family, the gaggle of outlaws, is falling apart before him, and he has nothing but the clothes on his back to cling to.

“It’s okay! I like the water. Momma lets me play in the lake, and she’s even teaching me how to swim!” Jack smiles, beaming with pride as he looks at the lake behind you.

“Is she?” You smile warmly as Jack nods.

“Yep! It’s so fun, but I think my Papa is afraid of the water… he never comes in.” Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks about John and his fear of water, and you giggle. John’s attention falls on you both then, and his face scrunches up in something similar to offense mixed with humor.

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of the water.” John huffs, shaking his head. Arthur laughs out loud, joining the conversation as well.

“Sure Y’ain’t! Remember that time back in New Austin you fell into that–” He looks to Charles, “What was it?”

“Lake Don Julio.” Charles replies with a smirk.

“Yeah, that's it. You fell into Lake Don Julio n’ everyone had to gather round to scoop your sorry ass out.” Arthur laughs, and Jack giggles in your lap.

“I–” John tries to come up with some defense, “My horse bucked me, weren’t my fault, and that water was deep.”

You all laugh as John’s cheeks burn red as the flames of the campfire, and he shakes his head.

“It’s alright, John. We can have the boy teach you to swim.” Arthur chuckles, gesturing to Jack. Arthur’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight of Jack in your arms. It comes so naturally to you, being around children. They love you. It makes his heart warm and ache just the same.

“I hate to break up all the fun, but there’s work to be done.” A booming voice calls from across camp. Your eyes flicker up to Dutch, stomping forward through camp with some plan sparkling in his eyes. You sigh, placing Jack’s feet on the ground as he jogs off towards his tent.

“We was just talkin.” John says, standing from his seat and dusting off his knees. Everyone looks to Dutch as he scans around the fire, taking in the four of you. His hands are on his belt as he eyes you and Arthur.

“You two." Dutch points at you and then Arthur, "I want you poking around the Gray's today. Go down to the jail and pay our dear friend, the Sheriff, a visit. See what you can find." Dutch orders. You nod, grabbing your cup of coffee from the ground to swig down the last of it.

"Hosea is already at the Braithwaite’s. He mentioned something about moonshine. I'll have you both workin' with him in no time. We're gonna play these folk like fiddles, hit them from both sides and they'll be none the wiser." Dutch says with his chest puffed. He's proud of his plan no doubt, foolish as it is.

The names Gray and Braithwaite cause so much ruckus around here, and no one messes with those families for a reason. Leave it to Dutch to poke the bear. You're not so sure about playing both families, but Dutch is the leader, after all. You know when to keep your mouth shut, and now is certainly one of those times. You place your coffee cup into your satchel before standing from the log, stretching your knees as you do.

"Alright, guess it wouldn't hurt to just talk to the feller. Maybe he'll even have some more work. Star, you up for more outlaw chasin'?" Arthur chuckles.

"Still recoverin' from the last one, but sure!" You smirk, grabbing your satchel and swinging it over your shoulder.

"Don't make any noise in town, just get on the Sheriff's good side." Dutch says as he backs away, turning to head back to his tent.

"Sure." You remark quietly, turning to look at John and Charles, "I'll catch you boys later."

They nod as you wait for Arthur to grab his things, and then head off towards the hitching posts. Athena and Balius are there waiting for you, but surprisingly they aren't saddled like you'd expected them to be. Your eyebrows pull together as you look around for Kieran.

A smile blossoms on your lips, and you grab Arthur's shirt to pull his attention to where you're looking.

He turns, watching the scene play out with furrowed brows.

Kieran and Marybeth sit side by side on the blanket under her canopy, smiling and chatting with each other. There's a book in Marybeth's hands, but it's folded closed over her thumb. Her attention is too focused on Kieran to worry about the silly story. Kieran is nervously rambling, shaking his head, and smiling like a schoolboy.

"You think they're sweet on one another?" You ask, looking up at Arthur. He huffs.

"Marybeth and that damn O'Driscoll. Who woulda thought?" Arthur exclaims, shaking his head. You’re not sure that he approves of the apparent relationship between the two, but he did save Kieran, so that has to count for something.

“He ain’t an O’Driscoll– at least not anymore. He’s not so bad, actually.” You hum, watching on for a moment longer before walking towards Athena. She’s near the posts, unhitched, munching on a bale of hay with Balius. The scarred shire horse nudges your mare’s nose affectionately as they share the foliage. It brings a sweet smile to your lips.

“Look, even these two are courtin’ each other. What the hell’s in the water?” Arthur chuckles, placing his hand under Balius’s jaw to lead the horse to the post. He follows with little instruction, and you whistle for Athena to come to you. You grab her bridle from the post, sliding the bit in her mouth before fastening her chin strap. The mare looks good. You run your hand down her body, checking over her for anything out of sorts. She whinnies lightly, shaking her head as you scratch her croup.

“Is there a stable in Rhodes?” You ask, leaning down to pick up Athena’s hoof. Her shoes have grown out a little further than you’d like, she's definitely due for a new pair.

Arthur runs a brush along Balius’s body, getting rid of any dirt as he coos to the stallion. He turns at your question, seeing the overgrown hooves that you’re looking at.

“No, the nearest one is up by the stateline. We’ll get up there soon enough, Balius is fixin’ for a new set of shoes too.” Arthur explains, and you nod.

You grab your saddle pad and saddle together, and carefully swing them over Athena’s back. You tie her saddle with a perfect texas t before checking all the straps. Arthur is still tacking Balius up, and you seize the moment to feed Athena an oatcake from your satchel.

“Here girl.” You mumble to the mare, petting her nose as she munches on the treat.

“You comin’?” Arthur asks, swinging himself into the saddle. You climb onto Athena, sticking your boot into your stirrup.

“I guess.” You chuckle, thinking about going back to Rhodes. You’re not sure how Dutch thinks you’re going to become Sheriff Leigh Gray’s new best friend, but you’ll try nonetheless.

“Ladies first.” Arthur hums, and you roll your eyes as you pass him on the trail out of camp. Sean is on guard duty, and he makes sure to give you some hell as you pass by. Other than him, the ride goes smooth. No Lemoyne Raiders get in your way, which you’re thankful for. Athena is a bit more sensitive than usual on account of her shoes, but other than that the ride to Rhodes is good.

You pull your mare up to the hitching post outside of the jail and hop down with a slight wince. You’ve barely recovered from your last wild goose chase, and here you are, back at the jail to pick up more work. Rhodes isn’t too busy on account of the time, which you’re thankful for. Arthur gives Balius a pat for his work before stepping towards you with a smile.

“Ready?” He asks, hand settling on the small of your back as he leads you up the steps.

“Sure am.” You chuckle. Arthur grabs the old brass door handle and pulls it open, holding it open for you. You walk through the threshold, squinting as your eyes adjust to the change in light. Leigh Gray, the sheriff, sits in his chair with his boots up on his desk. His hands are occupied with the day’s paper as he glances up to you two.

“You’re back! Y’know I never did catch your names yesterday.” The sheriff points out, slapping his paper down on the desk. He swings his feet down to the ground, standing up to shake Arthur’s hand.

Arthur quickly scans the room, finding a collection of posters on the wall. They’re all advertisements, and Arthur hones in on one for ‘Callahan’s Confectionery’.

“Arthur Callahan,” Arthur introduces his newfound alias all the while shaking the hand of the sheriff, “and the missus.” Arthur introduces you as his wife, and a blush forms across your cheeks. Sheriff Gray tips his hat to you as you hide your hands behind your back to avoid any questions about the lack of a ring.

“Well, Mr. Callahan, how can I help you on this fine morning?” The Sheriff asks. He seems nervous. Sweat clings to his brow and dark circles line under his eyes. You assume the Anderson boy has been giving him trouble, and there’s also the apparent problem with the Gray’s son and that Braithwaite girl.

“That's actually what we came to ask you. We’re lookin’ to help out.” Arthur explains, taking a few steps forward. Arthur doesn’t mean to intimidate the man, but the sheriff takes a few steps back anyway. You wonder how he’s managed to remain in office for so long without getting killed or worse. He seems pretty yellow-bellied for the job.

“You need work? Well I’m glad you came to me. It’s always better to work for a Gray than a stinkin’, degenerate Braithwaite.”

Arthur’s tongue lines his cheek as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at the goddamn feud tearing these people apart.

“Of course.” Arthur replies.

“Y’know… there’s this bastard I’ve been meaning to grab. He’s gone out of state, but I want him. He killed my second cousin Gertrude, you see.” The Sheriff begins. His eyes almost glaze over as he gets lost in his story, “She was lookin’ for medicine, but this man– he is a no good fellow. He sells poison as medicine. Y’know, my great grandfather was a doctor? When we was kids he used to–” Sheriff Gray rambles on before Arthur rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and interrupting the annoying man.

“Listen, mister, no disrespect, but just tell me who he is and where to find him.” Arthur grumbles, irritated with the fool. The Sheriff doesn’t look too hurt by Arthur’s interruption, and you assume his ramblings are frequently cut short.

“His name is Benedict Allbright. He’s a peculiar looking fella, came from the city after pitching his miracle cure. He's been seen near Valentine, you know of it?” The Sheriff asks, to which you nod your head dejectedly.

“Yeah, we know it.” You sigh, glancing up at Arthur.

“He’s near the Dakota River, camping out on the cliffs. I need him alive.” Sheriff Gray gives you the details before slumping back into his chair and picking the newspaper back up. You nod, turning to head out the door, but Sheriff Gray turns your attention back to him.

"Oh! Almost forgot– there's a festival bein' held. Rhodes' 75th anniversary. Here. You're welcome to join, it's supposed to be a good time." The Sheriff says, grabbing a pamphlet from his desk drawer. Your eyebrows pull together as you accept the paper, running your eyes over the festivities. Games, food, candy, and shows, it seems like a good time, so long as the feud settles down enough for the town to get along.

"Well, thank you. You can count on us bein' there." Arthur hums before tipping his hat. "And Allbright? Well, I reckon we'll have him back to you in no time."

The Sheriff holds up a hand in a half attempt at a wave as you and Arthur exit the jail. As soon as you're out of earshot, you grip Arthur's arm, forcing him to turn around.

"'You can count on us bein' there'? Are you sure goin' to this festival is a good idea?" You ask, holding the pamphlet out to Arthur. He takes the paper, running his tongue over his thumb before flipping the page.

"It'll get us more information, and hell, it might be fun." Arthur replies, eyes running over the list of vendors. Your eyebrows pull together, and a hand on his bicep pulls his attention back to you.

"We got an alias to keep up now. The Callahans? We gotta be careful with that, Arthur. And with Hosea playin' the other side like he is? I don't know if havin' a good time in the middle of town is the attention we need right now." You point out, tone hushed to avoid eavesdroppers. Arthur nods his head, eyes flickering up to yours. He sees the worry clouding your eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone.

"C'mon, where's that fire?" Arthur asks and your face falls, "We got this, it's just a festival. We get a little information, and we have a good time. An evenin' away from camp, havin' fun like decent folk do. It'll be good for us."

You lean into his touch, letting out a breath at his reassurance.

"I'm just so afraid they're gonna find us again…" You admit, and Arthur's smile falters at the sight of your worries. You're talking about the Pinkertons of course. After Valentine, any noise is bad noise.

"They won't. I won't let 'em hurt you, Star." Arthur mumbles, eyes searching the pain on your face and wishing that they could reassure you. He means every word of his promise. He will not let the Pinkertons lay a damned finger on you.

But it does sound like a good time. A day away, enjoying yourselves like a normal couple might, sharing fine treats and walking down the main street hand in hand. It's a simple pleasure, something an average couple might do, but you and Arthur are certainly not an average couple.

"Fine, when is it?" You ask, peeking towards the pamphlet in his hands. He unfolds the paper flaps, locating the date in red, bold letters.

"Next week." He states, tapping his finger against the paper.

"It's a date. But c'mon, let's go get this bastard first." You say, nudging Arthur towards the horses. They’re waiting patiently, tails swatting away unwanted flies as they take turns drinking from the trough. You walk side by side with Arthur, chuckling at a pair of foxhounds playing in the rust colored dirt.

“You ever bounty hunted before?” Arthur asks, taking his reins from the hitching post and swinging them over Balius’s neck.

“No.” You huff. You’ve been on the wrong side of the law for a while now. It never occurred to you to hunt down other outlaws. It’s also a two or more man job, you’d neve tackle a bounty alone.

“We can make it there in a day. We misewell stop at the stables on the way too, get everyone new shoes.” Arthur hums. He slips his boot into his stirrup in time with you as you both swing up into the saddle. Athena paws at the ground impatiently until you squeeze her sides to walk down the main road.

“Do we have everything we need?” You ask. Surely you’ll need something to tie Allbright up with, a lasso or bolas. You’re not sure what else bounty hunting entails, but you feel underprepared.

“Yeah, I got everythin’ on me. We’ll spend the night up there, ride back in the mornin.” Arthur calls to you, his drawl thick. Being back in the south has made his accent a little stronger, and you smile for it.

“How exactly does this help us with the Grays?” You ask. Going on a wild goose chase seems odd, especially considering that you’re supposed to be gathering intel on the Grays. Instead, you’re heading back to Valentine, the town that almost got you all killed a handful of weeks ago.

“Well, Dutch wants us on their good side, so we’ll do what the sheriff says n’ hope he gives us somethin.”

You bite your tongue. It seems above Arthur’s station to go out running around for Dutch. You’d think that after being his right hand man for twenty years, Dutch could send someone else out on these jobs.

“You his errand boy now?” You bite. The words slip out, and your eyes fall shut as you cringe, awaiting his snap.

“Excuse me?” Arthur’s eyes squint as he turns around in his saddle to look at you sternly.

“Listen, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but couldn’t he have sent one of the other boys? I mean, shouldn’t you be in camp plannin’ with Dutch?”

The words cut Arthur deep. He’s not upset with you, he’s upset because you’re right. Micah is probably back from Downes’ Ranch by now, whispering lies into Dutch’s ear. It should be Arthur by Dutch’s side. Arthur locks his jaw, pushing the thoughts away.

“It ain’t like that, Star. We all gotta do our part.” He counters, still in denial about the whole thing.

“Hey.” You call softly, trotting Athena up to Balius’s side. You reach over and grab Arthur’s hand, squeezing it encouragingly, “You’re right, we all gotta do our part… I’m sorry.”

Arthur stops his horse and squeezes your hand back.

“I’m just glad to be with ya, darlin’. Now c’mon, stable ain’t far.” Arthur whispers, nodding Northwest.

— — — —

Balius and Athena each get new shoes, a proper grooming, and plenty of provisions for the road. They look incredible, and you tip the stable hand nicely for his work. After their pampering, you hit the road towards Valentine, though you'd rather be headed anywhere else. Arthur takes care to avoid the town, riding on the outskirts to evade any lingering law.

He leads you in the direction of the cliffs, and the paths get more and more narrow the higher you descend.

"I don't like this, Arthur. We should leave the horses here." You point out, heart pounding as you look at the water below the cliff's edge. Athena prances nervously, tossing her head and pawing at the ground.

"Alright, we'll walk the rest. Shouldn't be far." Arthur agrees, dismounting before walking further up the slope.

A little fire comes into view, you can see the smoke rising above the cliff that you’re climbing up. You try not to look down and see the Dakota River below. It splashes and rages forward, waves crashing against rocks and splashing up in crystal-like pebbles of water. You swallow thickly, stomach churning as you follow Arthur.

“Try not to look down.” Arthur grunts, and you nod.

“Easier said than done.” You huff, keeping your footsteps calculated. Arthur uses two fingers to signal that Allbright is ahead, and you hunch down.

You and Arthur see the bounty before he sees you. He's hunched over a small campfire on the rocks, poking at the flames with a stick. His movements cause embers and smoke to waft up to the dark sky in flecks. You focus on the embers to distract yourself from the turmoil below.

He is an oddly dressed man, clearly from the city. Allbright is adorned in a blue suit with a matching top hat. A small pair of spectacles sit on the bridge of his large nose, giving sight to beady, dark eyes. You step closer to him, looking up at Arthur for instruction.

"Follow my lead." He whispers back to you and you nod.

Arthur stands up tall then, pushing his shoulders back and you see as a new persona falls over him. You can understand why Hosea is always pushing Arthur to act more, he's a natural. Arthur strides forward until he's just near the edge of Allbright's camp.

"You Benedict Allbright?" Arthur asks loudly, stepping forward. You follow, staying a step behind and to the side of Arthur.

Allbright's head snaps up in shock and he immediately stands from the fire, backing away from the two of you. He drops his poking stick to the ground, and it catches on fire, burning up against the rock trail.

"N-no!" Allbright shakes his head. You can see the panic in his eyes, you can hear the tremble in his voice.

"You look a lot like him." You say plainly, eyeing up and down his suit. The bright colors nearly give you a headache, and you wonder why anyone would spend such an amount of money on such odd clothes, "And we were told he'd be up here." You add.

Benedict Allbright takes a step back, almost plastering himself against the rock wall. He shakes his head nervously. When you look up at Arthur for a game plan, your eyebrows draw together. He looks… sad, crestfallen even.

"You see, we were hopin' to buy some medicine from him." Arthur sighs, dejected. His head falls lightly and he grips your hand.

"My mother in law, she's real sick." Arthur says.

Damn he's good.

You copy his downtrodden look, teary eyes flickering up to Allbright in one final plea.

"We'll pay in gold if you help us, mister." You beg, a faux tear slipping down your cheek.

Allbright lights up like a damn Christmas tree. A smile forms across his lips as he points his index fingers to the sky.

"If it's for a sick woman, I'd be happy to help!" He chimes. You watch on as he shuffles towards his bedroll, rummaging through a bag there. He pulls out a shimmering, dark green bottle, looking like any other tonic.

"This is the finest medicine in the state, ma'am. I'm a healer, you know, a medical man!" He smiles, sick and twisted as he hands you the poison.

You take the glass from him with a smile, but it promptly falls as you drop the bottle and let it shatter all over the ground. A scowl etches onto your face as you nod for Arthur to grab the bastard.

"It's over, mister." Arthur grumbles, leaning forward and grabbing Albright's revolver from its holster. He tosses the weapon over the cliff ledge, and it falls down into the violent waters. Arthur unholsters his own gun, pointing it at Allbright. The fear of God enters Albright's eyes as he realizes he's been duped.

"What?!" Allbright hisses, backing away from Arthur. His back is almost on the rock wall, and he glances around for a way to escape.

"Apparently that stuff you're sellin' is killin' folk. I don't know, ain't my business." Arthur grumbles. He leans forward to grab Allbright's wrist, but the older man jumps away. He skips around the fire until his back is at the cliff's edge. You take a step closer to him.

"I'm a healer! I've got an aura, I speak to spirits!" Allbright yells, looking around for any escape route or a weapon, "I'm a–"

"a lunatic." You huff, rolling your eyes, "Give it up."

He backs away, heel dangerously close to the edge. One wrong move and he'll be down in the dangerous waters. Your heart rate picks up as you take another step forward.

"Careful, Star." Arthur warns, deeply.

"I'm a scientist, this is a mistake!" Allbright yells just as you reach out to grab onto his coat. It backfires, and he grips tightly onto your hair. You yelp as he pulls you against him. Your back is pulled tightly against Allbright's chest and something cold and sharp presses against your neck. You gasp as it knicks you, realizing he pulled a knife.

"I'll– I'll go over the edge and take her with me!" Allbright stutters and yells.

"Allbright!!" Arthur roars, stepping forward. the bounty steps back, and you whimper as rocks and gravel fall off the cliff's edge from his boots. Arthur steps back, hands up as his heart races. His eyes are locked onto yours.

"Let me go!" You hiss, but he presses the knife tighter against your throat. You have to strain your neck back against his chest to avoid the sharp blade.

"Goddammit, let her go, or I swear to god–" Arthur begins, panic thick in his voice. Allbright chuckles, realizing that he's in the position of power now.

"We can deal with this like men, leave the lady out of it." Arthur pleads, turning the barrel of his gun up towards the sky. Your nails dig into Albright's arm as you attempt to pull it away from your throat. You gasp, terrified. The thought of going down over the cliff sends your body into a panicked state, and your eyes beg Arthur to find a way out of this.

"I'm not going with you, bounty hunter!" Allbright hollers. His neck cranes around, looking down at the violent crash of waves below him. Arthur's eyes are wide as he extends a hand out to you. You try to grab it, but Allbright steps back, dragging you with him.

"I'll take my chances jumping." Allbright states.

"Arthur!" You yelp, right before Allbright drags you back once more.

Suddenly the ground is gone from below your feet. You feel yourself falling, and you scream for Arthur once more. You're not sure if you're going to die, you don't have much time to think about it, but you hope it won't be too painful if you do. The rocks below you are almost as threatening as the dark water. Your hands extend toward the sky, gripping and searching for anything to hang onto. Of course, there is nothing.

"Star!!" You hear Arthur roar from above, and your eyes slip shut in pain. You should've told him, should've said that you love him.

You hear Allbright splash into the water, and you know that it'll only be seconds until you crash. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

An unimaginable pain courses through your body when you make contact with the water. It's like ice, causing your muscles to seize and contract painfully. The water's intensity causes you to flip and spin. You fight to swim to the top, but the river is carrying you downstream quickly and you're not sure which way is up. Your lungs burn in search of air, and you choke on water as you fight to breach the top.

It's a fight, but just as your vision begins to fill with white stars from lack of oxygen, you breach the surface. Your arms work to keep you afloat as you gasp and choke on air. There's too much water in your lungs and you can't breathe. Your movements are sluggish and exhausted, but you fight nonetheless.

The shore passes by quickly as the river carries you downstream. You try to scream for Arthur, but it comes out weak. The ice cold water makes your body rigid, and you struggle to keep yourself afloat.

"Stay up, keep fightin'!"

At the sound of Arthur's voice, you perk up. Your eyes scan the shore and lock onto Balius galloping down the rocky trail.

"I'm comin!" He yells. You try to take his instruction, really you do, but the water is so cold and you feel it pulling you down. You can barely hang on, arms burning from keeping yourself afloat.

"Grab on!" Arthur yells over the crashing water. Your wet eyelashes flutter open, and you see Arthur's lasso in the water ahead of you.

"Star, c'mon! You gotta grab on, please!" Arthur pleads. You stick your hand through the loop, and it tightens around your wrist. Water burns in your lungs as stars fill your vision and everything slowly fades to black.

— — — —

A rhythmic thumping pounds in your chest, wracking your entire body. Your eyes flutter open as you wake up, and you turn onto your side, retching up cold, salty water. You gasp for breath, coughing as Arthur's hands pull away from your chest to rub up and down your back.

"Shit, Star. I thought I lost you." Arthur's voice radiates from beside you, and your wet eyelashes flutter as you look up at him. You're splayed uncomfortably in the grass, and you pull your knees up to your chin as you shiver, gasping for air.

"Goddammit, I'm so sorry I brought ya up here." Arthur whispers, heart racing.

"I'm s-so c-cold." You whisper, teeth chattering loudly. Arthur's thumb runs over your cheek as he worriedly looks over your too pale face. Your lips are nearly blue, and wet strands of hair stick to your freezing skin.

"I know. I'll get you into town, but you gotta get out of these wet clothes lest you freeze on the way."

Arthur takes your hands, helping you to your feet. Your bones ache from being so cold and overworked, and when you look down you notice the rope burn searing on your left wrist from Arthur pulling you in. It all comes back to you then, and you glance at the crashing waters while Arthur rummages in Balius's saddle bags.

"Where's Allbright?" You whisper, and Arthur shakes his head.

"I don't know, n' I don't give a damn. I gotta get you fixed up." Arthur says, bringing you over a pile of clothes. They’re his, but they're all he has to work with.

"I'll take you into town n' get you a bath. If we stay out here, you'll freeze." Arthur grumbles, placing the clothes on the ground before coming up in front of you. His hands quickly work on the buttons of your shirt, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands against your frozen skin. You whimper, leaning against him to chase after his warmth.

"Christ, Star. You're freezin'."

He sounds worried. He is worried. You shake like a leaf as he pulls your shirt over your arms. The wet clothing hits the ground in a sop as he kneels on one knee to unbutton your jeans. He's not worried about modesty right now, Arthur is too panicked about your health.

You wiggle your toes in your boots and shudder, realizing that you can barely feel the movements. Teeth clack together loudly as Arthur strips you of your jeans, eyebrows pulled together in concern.

"I c-can't feel my t-toes." You whimper, worrying that you'll lose them or worse.

"You just hang on, just– I'll get you there. I will." It's a promise more to himself than to you. He pulls his oversized clothes over your trembling body, adding his thick blue coat to your shoulders before scooping you up wedding style. You yelp at the action as he helps you onto Balius's saddle.

"Be good for me, boy. We gotta ride quick now." Arthur coos to his stallion before mounting up behind you. Your head lulls back against Arthur's chest as his arms wrap around you to grab the reins. At the mention of Balius, your eyes pop open wider and you search around for your mare.

"Athena…" You whisper, just barely a breath. Arthur whistles sharply, and a whinny rings out alongside the sound of hooves. You relax at her call, knowing she'll follow Balius.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Arthur pushes Balius into a gallop. Arthur doesn't like it one bit, knowing that your best chance is to keep your eyes open.

"Don't go fallin' asleep on me now. We'll be there soon." Arthur attempts a smile for your sake, but the worry in his voice is thick.

You fight against every instinct to keep your eyes open. It would be so much easier to give in and let them fall shut. For Arthur's sake, you keep trying.

"Look for Allbright…" You exhale quietly, "He c-could be on the shore."

Arthur isn't surprised by your suggestion. Of course you haven't given up on the bounty. For you, he scans the shore, but it's your eyes that eventually lock on to the blue suited man. He's washed up on the shore, coughing and sputtering.

"Goddamn you, bounty hunters!" Allbright yells at the sight of Arthur and you riding forward. Arthur's attention peaks to Allbright then, and a growl rumbles in his chest.

"Get the bastard." You whisper, too weak to let out the hiss you want to. Arthur makes sure you're good and steady in the saddle before he dismounts. His hands rest on your thigh as he looks up to you.

"Y'okay to sit without me? We can leave him here and get you to a–" Arthur begins before you interject.

"I'm okay, just get him n' put him on Athena."

At your words, Arthur obliges, though he thinks it to be a damn stupid idea. He flips his gun out of his holster and swings it down over Allbright's head. The bastard is knocked out cold. His many layers and heavier stature seemed to have protected him mostly from the freezing water. Arthur doesn't give a damn about the man, only you. He whistles for Athena to step a little closer and hoists the bounty over her back behind the saddle.

"Is Allbright gonna be okay?" You whisper, gripping onto Arthur tightly as he quickly climbs into Balius's saddle.

"I ain't worried 'bout him." Arthur replies as he smacks the reins down over Balius's neck. He rides fast, galloping over the hills as fast as Balius can carry you both in the night. Your hands grow colder, stiffening around Arthur's jacket and making it harder to grip onto to. He notices this, of course, and his heart beats quicker. Your eyelids are heavy, the overwhelming, hardening cold creeping up your spine and down your bones. Everything stiffens and hurts, making the ride to Valentine a painful one. You yelp, wincing, and Arthur's arm tightens around you

"Oh, baby, just hang on. We're almost there." Arthur whispers, despair thick in his voice.

Arthur gets you there as quickly as he can manage, apologizing to you and Balius the whole way. You're both glad it's after dark once you arrive in town, as you still have a mighty price on your heads after the fiasco with Cornwall. Arthur ducks his head, keeping his eyes under his hat as he trots towards the hotel. Athena is right behind you both, still carrying Allbright.

"How you feelin', darlin'?" Arthur whispers, pulling Balius up to the hitching post in front of the All Saints Hotel. You groan in response. The cold has seeped into your bones, tightening your muscles uncomfortably. Your muscles twitch and cramp under your frozen skin, and your toes and fingers are numb.

"Tired." You admit, just over a whisper. Your eyes have fallen shut and you're leaning fully against Arthur's back at this point. You can hear his heart beating a few paces too fast with worry. He turns in the saddle and places a hand on your thigh to steady you before sliding down from his stallion. He hitches both horses, and turns to you.

"C'mere." He calls up to you, hands up stretched to grab your waist. Arthur pulls you into his arms wedding style. You wince at every jolt as he carries you up the few stairs towards the hotel. You get a glance over Arthur's shoulder and see Allbright, still heaved over Athena's rump. Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Arthur.

"What about…" You take a deep breath, struggling to keep yourself awake, "Allbright?"

Arthur readjusts you in his arms, turning around to push the door open with his back.

"He ain't wakin' up anytime soon. I'll deal with him once I get you taken care of." Arthur replies, stepping backwards through the threshold before turning to the usual clerk. The man's eyes go wide as he takes in your state.

"You got a bath drawn up?" Arthur asks, walking towards the hallway where the bathhouse is. He doesn't stop, carrying you down the hall as the clerk worriedly hollers 'Yes!' from behind you.

Arthur pushes the door open with his back again, carrying you into the bathhouse. The bath is filled with steaming water, and you practically whimper at the sight of warmth. Arthur carefully places you on your feet, steadying you for a second with his hands on your shoulders. He eyes you up and down, making sure you're steady.

"Y'okay to stand?" He asks as you sway slightly. You nod, and he steps away for a moment to grab a washcloth and a bar of soap from the little wooden table by the door. He places both on the small wooden slat overtop the bath as you attempt to pull Arthur's oversized clothes off of your body. Your numb fingers pull at the buttons, but they're too frozen to properly grasp the little articles.

Arthur turns back to you, and in two long strides, he's in front of you again, brushing your hands away.

"Let me." He murmurs, eyes downcast as he focuses on each button. He rids you of the shirt quickly, noticing the way your skin feels like ice. It only encourages his worry, and he works faster to unclothe you.

Once you're bare before him, Arthur's hands find purchase on the small of your back and your arm, helping to steady you as you step into the tub. You grimace when your toe hits the water. The cold state of your skin makes the hot water feel boiling, it's downright painful.

"I know, darlin', but it's the fastest way to warm you up." Arthur says, noticing your hesitation. You nod, stepping one leg into the hot water. It's painful, but bearable. Arthur lets you grip onto him as you lower yourself into the bath, groaning at the fiery sensation that ripples across your skin.

"There you go." He whispers as you finally sit down fully. Your teeth chatter, and you pull your knees up to your chest in the sudsy water. Now it's just a waiting game.

Arthur sits on the ground by your side, hand resting over yours on the lip of the tub. He watches you closely, taking note of your breathing and shivering. His thumb runs over your knuckles and you smile for it, but it's brief. You're still shivering, and goosebumps prick your skin all over. It's nothing short of miserable, and while the warm water has helped, you're too far gone for it to fully bring your temperature back to normal.

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when you glance over,Arthur is pulling his jeans down over his legs.

"Arthur…?" You ask, brow furrowing lightly.

"I can't just sit and do nothin' no more. It's killin' me seein' you like this." Arthur explains, "Scooch forward for me, sweetheart."

You grip the sides of the metal tub, pulling yourself forward, just enough for Arthur to slide into the bath behind you. The mass of his body entering the tub causes water to spill out over the edges, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll slip the working ladies a few extra bucks for the mess. A large forearm wraps around your middle, and Arthur pulls your back flush against his chest in the water. His legs line yours, bodies fitting together like perfect pieces of a puzzle.

“Better?” Arthur whispers, eyes worried as he splashes water over your shoulders with your hands. Guilt is eating him alive– Should he have let you come along? Did he get you here fast enough?

You nod, easing his worries some. After a few moments, his body heat begins to work, melting the ice that clings to your frozen skin. Your shivers reduce to slight chills, and your lips turn from a sickening shade of blue back to that familiar pink.

“Y’know, if you wanted to see me naked again, you coulda just asked,” You shiver, “Didn’t need to have Allbright throw me in the river.” You smirk, wit never leaving you, not even in dire situations.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darlin.” Arthur whispers, resting his chin atop your head, “You just warm up now, you hear?” His hands run up and down your arms as you nod, leaning fully back against him. His chest radiates a warmth that the water never could, and you groan as your body temperature begins to raise.

“You think Allbright’s okay out there?” You whisper, remembering that he’s currently strapped to Balius’s croup. Arthur chuckles from behind you.

“Hope not– the bastard can rot for all I care.” Arthur huffs.

“Arthur.” You chastise lightly, hand intertwining with his under the murky water. The chuckle in his throat dies down, allowing the air to become thick with unsaid words.

“Almost lost ya…” Arthur whispers. His eyes are far away, there's a lump in his throat.

You almost died.

“I’m okay, Arthur.” You reassure, squeezing his hand for good measure. He brings your intertwined hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He holds the kiss for a moment longer than he needs to.

“Stay that way.”

It’s a small plea, a few words, but a big admission. You’ve snuck your way into his heart, and he’ll be damned if the universe tries to pull you away now. He’ll do anything to keep you safe– a facet of information that’s beginning to haunt him.

What will it take–?

What does that entail?

It's something he’s been meaning to bring up for awhile. You’ve both had more near death experiences than any two people ever should.

Arthur presses a kiss to your wet hair, humming lightly as he thinks over what the future may hold. He’ll bring it up. But first, you just need to rest.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt @myhomethesea @onedaymyhappinesswillcome

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fandom #tfiye

183 notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.

a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.

You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.

“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously.

“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock.

“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”

“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over.

“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself.

“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration.

“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy.

“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.

“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day.

“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee.

"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now.

Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you.

"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here.

"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.

“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod.

“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see.

“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes.

“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train.

“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.”

You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over.

“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline.

“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.

“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans.

“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”

You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”

“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod.

“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.”

John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory.

“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.

“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it.

“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes.

“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach.

“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.

“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.

“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.

“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes.

“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call.

“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on.

“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response.

“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.

“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.

“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.

“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.

“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too….

“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes.

“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger.

“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.

“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.

“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.

“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around.

“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.”

John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan.

“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had.

“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.

“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch.

— — — —

“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.

“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.

In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option.

“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill.

“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields.

“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it.

“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.

“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile.

“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning.

“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away.

“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you.

“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud.

"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate.

“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you.

“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head.

“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!”

Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets.

“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek.

“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.

“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man.

“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat.

“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon.

“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back.

“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod.

It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed.

"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek.

"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away.

"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo.

"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow.

"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly.

"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.

"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh.

"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now."

"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.

"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses.

"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off.

"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job.

Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.

"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena.

"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles.

"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena.

"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.

"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.

"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp.

"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself.

It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.

"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow.

"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.

"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home.

"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters."

"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you.

"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.

"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur.

"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.

"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender.

"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd.

"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party.

"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile.

"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them.

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune.

"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes.

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene.

"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head.

"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish.

"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse.

"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt.

"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game.

"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong.

"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar.

"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses.

"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles.

"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy.

"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile.

"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands.

"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing.

"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.

He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together.

Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours.

"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles.

"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.

Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing.

"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you.

"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm.

"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.

"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling.

"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance.

"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.

"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.

Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.

It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares.

"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.

"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head.

"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt.

"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you.

"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer.

"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar.

Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.

Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two, both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him.

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right.

"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end.

"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard.

Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes.

"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod.

"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.

With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?

"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene.

"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.

"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.

"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh.

"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it.

"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent.

"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more.

Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed.

"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch.

"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed.

"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper.

"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away.

"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties.

"G'night, Star."

— — — —

The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.

You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee.

You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen.

"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling.

Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe.

"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does.

"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea.

"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal.

"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile.

"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.

"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.

"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind.

"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway.

"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon.

"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.

"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before.

"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does.

"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent.

He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment.

"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent.

"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members.

"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat.

"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds.

You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up.

"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.

"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields.

"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest.

"Sure… Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either.

"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled.

"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road.

"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim.

"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves.

"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup.

"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur.

Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings.

Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it.

First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out.

Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.

You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe.

Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content.

Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper.

In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least.

You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said?

You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page.

Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once.

You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more.

With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you.

Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach.

Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting.

"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs.

Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff.

"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur.

"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train.

"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up.

"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised.

"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her.

"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you.

"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite.

Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression.

"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly.

"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones.

"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.

On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too.

"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.

"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees.

When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing.

"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone.

"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly.

— — — —

It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it.

You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden.

"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with.

"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude.

"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur.

"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes.

"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs.

"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy."

Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John.

"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes.

"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions.

"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks.

"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job.

"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with.

"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks.

"I'm gonna make sure she slows."

John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.

"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest.

"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly.

"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline.

"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking.

"Just nervous." You admit.

"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur.

You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified.

Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat.

Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.

"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed.

No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes.

"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train.

"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car.

"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.

"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching.

"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side.

"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.

"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?"

Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you.

"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train.

"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths.

"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.

"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground.

"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof.

You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close.

"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur.

"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.

"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back.

You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.

"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine.

"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now.

"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy.

"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car.

"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.

You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car.

"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land.

"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose.

"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag.

"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge.

"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up.

"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money.

"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.

"You guys got the money?" He asks.

"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you.

"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof.

"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge.

A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face.

"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking.

"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.

"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard.

"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold.

"No!" John yells back.

"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge.

"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.

"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train.

"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable.

"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.

Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train.

All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.

"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle.

"Arthur!-" John gasps.

"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white.

The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.

"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men.

"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.

You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you.

"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you.

"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle.

"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching.

"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea.

He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John.

"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake.

"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet.

"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance.

"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?

"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance.

"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him."

John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's.

"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.

"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod.

And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law.

Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.

You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train.

You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can.

You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die.

Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob.

"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.

You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament.

You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #tfiye #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2

221 notes · View notes