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Chapter Text

The harsh cold cuts through your many thick layers of clothing and your limbs gradually grow number by the minute. Pain shoots through your fingers everytime you move them just to make sure they're still working. The last thing you want is to loose any body parts to hypothermia this early on in your journey.

One foot at the time. Come on.

As you stumble through the knee-high snow and fight your way through the merciless storm, you silently curse yourself out. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved in this.

-

"Arthur Morgan? That name rings a bell, actually.", Francis mumbles under his breath as his eyes trail over the words of the journal you had handed to him earlier.

The book is in poor condition with most of the pages missing and the ones that are still attached, are barely readable. Only a few passages are intact, but it's enough to let you roughly know what happened to the author.

"I thought you might have maybe heard of him during your travels.", you answer with a hopeful tone. Your eyes stare expectantly at the red head as you wait for him to finish reading.

The author wrote the journal around the end of the 1800s which is the same time Francis likes to visit every now and then.

"I think I remember now!", he exclaims with raised eyebrows and you jump up from the chair you're sitting on.

"You do? Can you...help me out then?"

-

You have no idea why the story of Arthur Morgan had moved you so much. His life and the way he put it into words had shaken you to your core.

A shuddering sigh escapes your lips and even through the scarf that covers half of your face, you're able to see the cloud of air.

-

"You want to save him? Why?", Francis asks and his tone is laced with utter disbelief. Yes, he met the man during one of his travels and even though Arthur didn't know him at all, he still had helped find all the rock carvings.

"The way things went and the way they ended for him...it doesn't feel right.", you explain with furrowed brows.

"It's dangerous. Yes, the country started to enforce the law more seriously during that time, but there were still so many gangs, robberies and shootings. I can't even begin to count all the things that could go wrong on your journey."

Francis' gaze is serious and stern. He's making his disapproval of your idea more than clear, but you're not willing to give up on your plan. Not yet.

"Nothing will go wrong if you help me prepare.", you answer and take both of his hands in yours to give them a reassuring squeeze.

His expression is unmoving, but his eyes betray the crumbling resistance within him. He's only a couple more arguments away of giving in.

-

The memory makes you chuckle. It's a low and bitter sound. Indeed, he had helped you get prepared for your adventure. Your leather bag is stuffed with canned food, some clothes and other equipment that might come in handy.

All the shirts, skirts and pants fit the style of the 1890s to make it easier for you to blend in. Francis had even been so kind to give you a quick history lesson that covered all the basics.

-

The cattleman revolver feels unfamiliar and heavy in your hands as you study the weapon more closely.

"Do you know how to shoot?", Francis asks and crosses his arms infront of his chest as he leans against the edge of the table.

The closest you have ever come to working a gun was reading about it in Arthur's journal, but admitting that might make Francis change his mind about the whole thing.

"Of course.", you lie with full confidence and slide the revolver back into the holster.

-

In the beginning you were a bit disturbed by the sight of the weapon attached to your belt. Feeling the weight of it now and the way it sometimes brushes over your thigh...it brings you some comfort. Comfort, knowing that you have the means to protect and defend yourself.

If only you had been aware over how soon you'd have to use that thing.

-

"There is an abandoned settlement called Colter nearby.", Francis explains and points at a spot on the map that is spread out over the table. "They will be hiding there after that whole ordeal in Blackwater."

This would be your chance to join the gang and get close to everyone. The mere thought of actually meeting these people fills you with both excitement and anxiety. You don't know any of them and it makes you wonder how they'll react to you.

"The winter was particularly bad that year so make sure to move quick and don't get lost.", he says, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Don't worry."

-

Yes. Don't worry, I said. It will be fine, I said.

Nothing could have prepared you for the pack of wolves that had shown up right after you traveled back in time. Not a single bullet had hit its mark, but the ear piercing noise from the shots had driven them away.

Everytime you recall that encounter in your mind, the beat of your heart picks up frantically and you hear your blood rushing in your ears. The experience had scarred you for sure.

Finally, the snowstorm seems to calm down and your vision clears up again. As you blink the remaining snowflakes away, you spot smoke in the distance. Could that be the settlement?

Without a second thought you pick up your pace and quickly make your way towards the dark pillar of smoke. It's further away than you had anticipated, but after a while you arrive at the place just to be met with...well, no one.

The fire has died down and there is not a single soul to be seen in the area. You notice that the wood is still slightly warm though so whoever had camped here left only recently.

Your eyes wander around, trying to find a sign, anything that could indicate where that person might have gone to. There is only one set of footprints in the snow, accompanied with prints that look like hooves.

It could be someone from the gang who is out hunting at the moment. It's also possible that they went back to the others so maybe these tracks could lead you right to their hideout.

With a new found hope you quickly follow the tracks. Even if it isn't anyone from the gang, that person you're searching for could still give you shelter or food. Any type of help is welcome, really. You're in no position to be picky at the moment.

The tracks lead up a mountain and you see something dark laying on the ground. A pit forms in your stomach as you approach it and recognize what it is.

The sight infront of you is revolting and you fight back a gag. A horse is laying spread out in the snow with its stomach shredded to pieces and the insides hanging out. A foul stench penetrates your nose and you abruptly turn away.

Whatever happened here, it hadn't ended well. Weirdly enough, the horse is the only dead body here though. There is no sign of the owner and you stumble upon more footprints.

It must be the same person from the makeshift camp, by the looks of it. At least the size and shape of the boots are similar. You keep following them and swallow a lump in your throat when your eyes fall on blood. It seems like the person got hurt as well by whatever attacked the horse.

Could it have been wolves? Perhaps even the same ones that wanted to make a meal out of you? You banish the thought before it could make you panic. Now is not the time to contemplate about your near-death encounter.

Someone obviously needs help and that is the whole reason why you're here in the first place. Just because the person in need of help isn't the one who you're actually here for, doesn't mean you should abandon them.

The footprints lead around the mountain and with lots of huffing and panting, you climb over rocks and duck under them. It's exhausting your body more than anything you had ever done before and your muscles grow heavy.

"Hello?", you yell out into the vast nothingness and calm your breathing to be able to focus on listening for a response. Nothing.

You give it another try, but again nothing happens. Frustration boils up inside your chest and you mutter a few curses to yourself.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Now you're not only extremely tired and worn out from this unnecessary hike, you're also way off the trail that leads towards Colter and who knows if you will even be able to find your way back.

Sure, you could easily follow your own footprints, but by the way your luck has been the past few days, another snowstorm will most likely ruin that plan. Unless the thing that killed the horse earlier comes back to put you out of your misery as well.

Perhaps Francis was right. Perhaps you were being stupid and naive to think that you could possibly travel back in time to-

"Help!"

There it is. A voice. A person! You bite back a relieved sob and take a deep breath to answer the call.

"I'm over here!", the other person answers and you jog towards the source of the voice.

As you peek over the edge of a wall, you're being met with a pair of glassy, grey eyes. A man with long black hair and messy clothes, is sitting in the snow and looks up to you.

"I didn't think I'd meet anyone out here.", he jokes with a raspy voice and you climb down the wall to kneel next to him.

His face is covered in blood and there are deep wounds on his right cheek. It looks like claw marks.

"What happened?", you ask breathlessly as you hurry to open your bag.

"Wolves. A whole pack of 'em." His answer comes out more as a grunt than anything and it's obvious that talking alone brings him too much pain.

You fish out an alcohol bottle and pour some of the content onto your handkerchief. Gently, you dab the cloth on his wounds to disinfect them and he let's out a harsh hiss.

"I'm sorry.", you mumble apologetically, but he simply waves it off. He knows you're only trying to help.

None of you are saying anything while you tend to his wounds and your mind is racing with thoughts and questions. What will you do now? The man doesn't look like he can stand up and you don't have the means to carry him down this mountain.

But even just considering the option of leaving him here to the elements makes you feel a tang of guilt in your chest. Leaving him alone means leaving him to die and you don't know if you can live with that.

"Do you think you can get up? I can't carry you, but if you lean on me we could make it down this mountain.", you suggest and the man opens his mouth to answer you.

Before he can even bring out a word, a gunshot cuts through the air and you let out a startled noise. Another person? This is starting to become quite a party.

Yelling can be heard from a distance. A man. No, it's two.

"Marston!", one of them screams from the top of his lungs and the bleeding stranger infront of you responds almost immediately.

It doesn't take long for the others to find you and you stand up from your spot. The two men are standing on the edge of the wall and one of them jumps down. The next moment you find yourself at the end of a gun.

You lift your hands and take a careful step back while your eyes are fixed on the weapon pointed right at your face.

"Who are you?", asks the man. He's wearing a thick blue coat and a worn cowboy hat with a few bullet holes in it.

"Put the gun down. She found me here and helped.", answered the injured guy and for what feels like eternity the man finally lowers the gun.

You allow yourself to let out a relieved breath as he turns away to face the one still sitting on the ground.

"You look even uglier than before, Marston.", he says to the injured stranger and something clicks inside your brain.

Marston? John Marston?

While your mind pieces all the clues together, the man who is still on the wall reaches out his hand towards you. A friendly smile graces his lips and you return it before taking his hand and letting him help you climb back up.

"You guys are lucky that we found you.", he says and you nod. He's right. Even with your plan to have John lean on you while you walk back, there is no guarantee that it would have actually worked.

You're pretty sure that you would have probably slipped and fallen to your certain death. A few moments later John and the other guy are on top as well.

"Arthur, carry him on your shoulder while we go back to our horses.", the man who helped you up the wall said and your eyes fall on one with the blue coat.

Is this Arthur Morgan?

You lock eyes with him after he throws John over his shoulder and he gives you a confused look.

"What are you starin' at?", he grunts.

Embarrassed, you cough into your fist and let out a flustered chuckle.

"I'm so sorry, sir. It's just that you remind me of someone, is all.", you hastily explain and turn away to prevent any more awkwardness.

What a great first impression you're leaving. As you all make your way back to the horses, the three men introduce themselves to you and you give them your name as well.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?", Javier asks and throws you a curious look over his shoulder.

"I had to leave my home. We...we got robbed and lost the house.", you answer. It's a lie that you and Francis have come up with.

If anyone asks you'd tell them that a gang robbed your home and burned down the house. No one can check your background if you tell them there is nothing left to check. At least that's what you're hoping for.

"You said 'we'. Is anyone else out here?", Arthur asks and shoots you a quick look.

"No. I'm alone now.", you answer which is not really a lie. You are alone indeed.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

Before you're able to thank him, Javier points at something in the distance.

"Guys, I think we got company."

A small group of wolves appear on the hill a few meters away from you guys and your heart sinks. The gunshot and all the yelling must have caught their attention or maybe it's the smell of John's blood.

Arthur hands him over to Javier and pulls out a shotgun as he walks towards the wild animals.

"I'll distract 'em. You guys go to the horses.", he yells over his shoulder and you and Javier start running.

A few shots are being fired behind you, but you don't dare to look back. Your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and adrenaline rushes through your veins. It's the only reason why you're able to move this fast.

Javier mounts his horse together with John and you climb onto the back of the one you assume must be Arthur's. Just as you turn your head to see where the said man is, he's already by your side and jumps into the saddle.

Without another word, the two horses start sprinting. The sudden acceleration startles you and instinctively your arms shoot forward to wrap around Arthur's torso. Then you notice something in the corner of your eye.

"We got more coming from the right!", you let the others know and grab the cattleman from your holster.

Thankfully, Arthur proves himself to be more than competent with his own gun and takes out the entire pack in a matter of seconds without you having to help out. At least that's what it looked like at first.

Another wolf jumps out from between trees right at the both of you and you extend your arm to fire a shot. It hits. For the first time you have actually hit something.

The rest of the ride goes by quietly with no deadly surprises. So far it's all going to plan (besides the fact that you almost got your face bitten off that is) and with a little luck and persuasion on your part they might even let you stay with them.

Once you reach the settlement, you slide off the back of Arthur's Tennessee Walker and take a step to the side when a large group of people start pouring out from the run down houses.

But the person who catches your attention the most is a man wearing a black coat and a red scarf. It's not his outfit that draws your gaze towards his direction, but more the energy he gives off. There is something about him that makes you feel like you have to be on your toes.

Maybe it's the authority that radiates off of him like the heat of a house on fire or maybe it's something else. Obviously, he's the leader of this group with the way he's barking orders. They don't seem to fear him though.

Then his eyes fall on you and he takes your whole appearance in. You recall a name from the journal as he approaches you with an extended hand and you shake it firmly.

"Dutch Van Der Linde. Arthur told me that you helped them with John."

You only manage a nod.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate that you went out of your way to help one of my men. Come on, let's head inside so we can talk.", he adds and leads you towards one of the cabins

There is a fire burning inside, but with all the holes in the roof and walls it does barely anything to keep the cold away. Dutch motions towards one of the chairs next to the fireplace and takes a seat infront of you.

Arthur's blue coat appears in the corner of your eye as he closes the creaking door and leans against it with his arms closed. Yes, Dutch said it would be a casual talk, but now it feels more like an interrogation.

Quietly you fold your gloved hands on your lap and wait for Dutch to say the first word. You plan on telling him only the most necessary stuff and would rather avoid getting tangled up in your web of lies.

"So, Arthur tells me you lost your home?"

You avoid his piercing gaze and look down at your lap.

"I did, sir."

On the side of your vision, you see him nod to himself.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Now, miss..."

Your head snaps up to look at him as he bends forward to get a better look at your face.

"This is a harsh winter and I'd feel bad sending you out in this cold all by yourself, so if you want, you can stay with us."

His offer makes you nod hastily and you try to mask your excitement. There is no need to make them suspicious with your eagerness. No person with a clear mind would be this happy to stay with a bunch of outlaws and you have to play the part.

"We may not be good people, but we care for one another. As long as you pull your weight, we will happily welcome you."

With these words you place your bag on the floor and open it up to reveal the canned food you have been traveling with.

"I got some food on me. Agreed, it's not a lot, but it's all I have."

A pleased look spreads over Dutch's face and he nod.

"It's greatly appreciated. Go find Mr. Pearson and give these to him.", he says and you throw your bag back over your shoulder after getting back on your feet.

Once you close the door behind you, you overhear Arthur say something.

"Are you sure about this, Dutch? It's another mouth to feed."

You hold your breath so you have an easier time listening in on them. Of course, he's right to be concerned about you becoming a member. By the sound and look of it, they're struggling to keep everyone fed.

"We have been through worse.", Dutch answers and a wave of relief washes over you. It's good to know that you won't get kicked out on the first day.

So where is this Mr. Pearson?

Chapter Text

It's an early morning for you. A cold morning just like the one before and the one before that. Everyday seems to be the exactly the same. You wake up, sit by the fire most of the time with the others and get work given to you by Miss Grimshaw every now and then.

The tasks are a welcome distraction from the fact that you all are just sitting ducks while slowly dying of starvation, but unfortunately they don't last that long. The others don't seem too happy with this situation either.

Every face you look at has the same miserable frown on it and while you don't have a mirror on you, you're pretty sure you got that expression by now as well.

In the corner of your eye you see a woman with dark hair approach you with a young boy following closely behind her.

"Hey.", she greets you and you offer her a smile. You see her around a lot and her name appears in Arthur's journal every now and then. Abigail.

"I haven't properly thanked you for helping John. He can be a moron sometimes, but...you know..."

As you stand up from the crate you're sitting on, you place your hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay. You don't have to thank me for anything."

She returns your smile and before any of you can say another word the front door of the house is being swung open. Miss Grimshaw is standing in the doorway and waves you over to her. Ah, another welcoming distraction.

The moment you take a step out, a wooden bucket is being shoved into your arms and she motions towards the woods.

"We need you to get some water from the river. Arthur and Charles brought home some game so Mr. Pearson needs all the help he can get to prepare dinner."

"Sure thing, Miss Grimshaw.", you yell over your shoulder while fighting your way through the snow towards the river.

It's a clear and sunny day. No snowstorm, no clouds, no wind. Those are your favorite days and picking up water by yourself is one of your favorite jobs. The walk takes a while so you take the opportunity to clear your head a bit.

Sure, you don't mind talking to the others, but it's still tough to be the new person. There is a certain suspicion hanging in the air, but you don't take it too personally. These people have a lot of enemies and you gotta be cautious with folk in this line of work you suppose.

No one has really told you why they're on the run and you only pick up some bits and pieces here and there when you overhear people talking. Some riverboat job that went wrong in a place called Blackwater is the only thing you know so far and that they lost some people.

You try to avoid eavesdropping and snooping around too much to not attract any negative attention this early on. Obviously you can't make everyone in the gang like you, but keeping a neutral reputation shouldn't be that hard.

Some of the freezing riverwater splashes on your hands and arms as you submerge the bucket, but you're almost used to that by now. This life out here is rough. Rougher than you could have imagined.

You have read a few westerns and seen a couple plays that set in the wild west and both of them tend to romanticize this lifestyle. To struggle is something you had expected when Francis sent you away, but you didn't think that every single day was gonna be a fight for survival.

From the distance you spot Arthur's blue coat at Mr. Pearson's makeshift cooking station. He is in the process of hanging up a skinned deer and you pick up your pace, careful not to spill any water.

There hasn't been any good opportunity to have a proper conversation with Arthur the past couple of days. Actually, now that you think of it, the day where they found John and you was the first and last time you have exchanged words with him at all.

It's strange considering he's the whole reason why you're doing all this. With a grunt you place the bucket on a table and hold your hands over the fire.

The watersplashes from earlier have seeped through the material of your gloves and it feels like something is cutting into your hands. Your eyes fall on the second deer that Arthur places on the with blood covered counter.

"I didn't know you were such a skilled hunter, Mr. Morgan.", you comment in an attempt to strike up a conversation.

Showing some appreciation might make him open up a little to you.

"Ah, you should thank Charles. He did all the trackin'. All I did was shoot it."

Grunts fill the air as he cuts open the deer and removes the skin. His hands move with a certain confidence that indicates that he has done this a million times before. You have never witnessed a deer being skinned, but watching Arthur do it is almost fascinating.

A metal pot is being shoved into your hands and you're being ripped out of your thoughts once again. Mr. Pearson takes a swig from the whisky bottle in his hand. Half his mustache is drenched in alcohol and you grimace at the sight.

"Heat up the water.", he commands gruffly and flumps down on one of the crates.

---

Thanks to the game that Charles and Arthur caught you get to sleep with a full stomach for the first time in days. All in all the luck seems to be turning in general.

Dutch took some of the boys to rob an O'Driscoll camp and they had stumbled upon plans to rob a train. Everyone seems pretty psyched about this except for one person.

"I thought we were supposed to lie low, Dutch."

Hosea has his hands on his hips as he looks at the gang leader with furrowed eyebrows.

"And we will once we have some money.", Dutch responds in a matter of fact way.

Your eyes fall on Arthur who is standing a few feet away, leaned against a wall with his back and a cigarette tucked between his lips. You join to stand next to him and watch the two bickering men.

"So after you guys do this train job, we'll leave this mountain?", you ask with your voice laced with curiosity.

"That's the plan.", Arthur answers plainly. It doesn't seem like he's in the mood to talk at the moment, but then again he never seems to be.

Everything about him, from his appearance to his tone, makes him come off as the most unapproachable man you have ever met. It's a vast contrast to how he sounds in his journal, but you guess it makes sense.

He doesn't strike you as the type to act like best buddies with a stranger like yourself.

"Are you excited?", you ask to keep the conversation going and turn your head to look at him.

His gaze is fixed at something in the distance and he takes a deep breath from his cigarette.

"I guess."

You try to mask the disappointment that is swelling up inside you. These short sentenced answers are surely frustrating.

"Where will we head to next?"

Arthur shoots you a quick side glance before throwing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

"Hell if I know. Hosea mentioned somethin' about a town called Valentine I think. Never heard of it though."

"I can't wait to be amongst people again. Maybe even see some friendly faces for a change. No offense of course."

An amused huff escapes out of Arthur's throat and it gives you a sense of victory.

"None taken.", he answers. "We're not really the friendliest bunch out there."

You let out a soft chuckle and trace a pattern into the snow with your foot.

"But I do honestly think that you guys are quite nice. Aside from the whole law breaking stuff that is."

"Law breakin' stuff?", he repeats with yet another amused noise. "That's a mild way of puttin' it, I guess."

Before you can say a response, Dutch is already calling out to Arthur and waving him over. It looks like they're going to head out for the train job now.

"Good luck with your law breaking stuff, Mr. Morgan.", you say with your lips curled up into a smirk.

His expression is blank as he looks at you, but you don't fail to notice the delighted gleam in his eyes.

"Thanks and call me Arthur, will ya?"

With these words, he mounts his horse and follows the others out of the settlement. The short talk with him fills you with a feeling of triumph. Finally you had managed to grow a bit closer to him.

It doesn't feel like you can call each other friends just yet, but at least you're on a first name basis now. A win is a win and you're happy to take it.

The rest of the day goes by painfully slow as everyone awaits the return of the men who headed out to rob the train. You take the opportunity to walk out to the river again since it looks like this might be your last time.

With thoughtful eyes, you take in the white scenery before you with the crystal clear water and the snowy trees. The temperature has picked up a bit this morning so it doesn't quite feel as if your toes could be falling off any minute.

Your hand slides into the hidden pocket inside your thick winter coat and your finger tips come into contact with a smooth, cool surface. It's a cylinder made out of copper with rounded edges.

There is a slit around it that is so narrow, not even a fingernail can be pushed through. You recall Francis' instructions while you fidget the object in your hand.

-

"You have to push the lid down to be able to unscrew it. It's so it doesn't accidentally fall off and you push the button.", Francis explains and hands the small device to you.

It's fascinating how something barely the size of your hand could allow you to travel through time. Everything about it feels so surreal.

"It will send you right back here only ten minutes after your department.", he adds and you secure it inside your winter coat.

"And it's a one way ticket, you said?"

"Yes. This device only works once."

The prospect of losing that thing fills you with worry, but the two of you have come up with a plan B in case that happens. You'll always be able to send Francis a letter and then he'll simply pick you up. It would be a hassle, but not impossible.

"You said you'd return right after you prevent him from talking to this Thomas Downes?"

You nod. A big chunk of that encounter is missing in the journal so you don't know exactly how Arthur got infected. That detail doesn't matter though, as long as you make sure they don't interact at all.

-

The next morning you are being awoken by the sound of horses galloping and joyful cheering. After shaking off the initial disorientation and confusion you finally recognize your surroundings.

It's still Colter and it's still 1899. A deep sigh escapes your lips and you stumble out of the run down cottage, past the other gang members. Dutch and the others are standing in the middle of the settlement and you walk towards them.

"Quite the lively welcoming committee we got here!", the leader exclaims with a loud laugh and you stifle a yawn.

"So it went well, I assume?", Miss Grimshaw asks behind you.

"Well? It went fantastic!"

More and more people step outside to hear the good news.

"It would have gone even better if Bill hadn't messed up the explosion.", Arthur grumbles, earning a venomous glare from the man.

"Enough, gentlemen!", Dutch chimes in before an argument between the two men could break out. "Everyone, pack your things! We are leaving immediately."

Everyone got busy the moment he finished his sentence and you hurry back to your sleeping spot to pack up your own belongings. Your bag has gotten way lighter over the course of the last weeks and it's a strange feeling to own so little.

Unfortunately you're not given much time to reminisce about your home back in your own time.

"What are you doing here, sitting around? Move!" Ah yes, Miss Grimshaw can be quite the tyrant when she wants to and it's terrifying.

Being verbally abused by her is definitely not a rarity, but it is kind of comforting to know that she treats most of the camp that way. Initially you thought she only had a problem with you until you caught her give Karen the scolding of a lifetime.

After throwing your bag over your shoulders, you look around to see who might need help. That's when you spot Sadie Adler on the other side of the cabin, struggling to tie ropes together.

Abigail had told you that Arthur, Dutch and Micah had found her almost right before they found you and John. You feel pity when you think about what the O'Driscolls had done to her and her husband. Pity and disgust.

What kind of animals would do such things? The thought alone turns your stomach upside down and you join Sadie's side.

"Let me do this.", you offer with a soft tone. Her hands are shaking.

"I know how to tie a knot, goddammit.", she immediately protests and you take her trembling hands in yours.

"I know."

You lock eyes with her for a split second before she pulls away from your hold and leaves through the front door.

It barely takes an hour until everything is packed up and stored onto the wagons. You have to give it to them. These people know how to be quick and efficient when it comes to leaving as fast as possible. They must be used to that by now, you guess.

Your gaze wanders from one wagon to another as everyone climbs onto them and you're not sure which one you should hop on. Then you see a flash of blue in the corner of your eyes.

"You can ride with us. There is space in the back."

You give Arthur a thankful smile which he only returns with a nod and you heave yourself onto the back of his wagon. Hosea is sitting at the front next to him and greets you with a quick wave of his hand.

The ride off the mountain is bumpy, but at least the snow and freezing temperatures are behind you now.

"Careful now, Arthur. Try to get us out of the stream.", Hosea says as you ride through a river.

You let out a startled noise when the wagon suddenly tips to the side and the wheel comes off. Now you know why the ride has been so painfully bumpy this entire time. This will probably leave a bruise or two on your ass, but nothing too devastating.

"What happened?", someone further ahead yells and Arthur throws up his arms in frustration.

"Ah, I broke the goddamn wheel!"

Soon enough Charles jogs over and the three men get to attaching the wheel back to the wagon. By the looks of it, it doesn't seem like they're in need of your assistance at all so you decide not to get in the way of things.

The rest of the ride goes by rather smoothly. No wheels are falling off, no wild animals are attacking you out of nowhere and most importantly there is now cold wind cutting through your clothes.

While Hosea talks about Valentine and the area, you just lean back with your eyes closed and relish in the warm rays of the sun. You don't even notice that you're dozing off until someone shakes you awake by the shoulder.

A pair of blue eyes stare back at you as you blink your sleep away.

"Get up. We're here.", Arthur says and you stumble off the wagon.

You find yourself standing at a cliff side and the sight is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Trees and mountains as far as the eye can see. You take off your gloves and brush some hair strands out of your face.

This place isn't too bad.

Chapter Text

Two weeks have passed since you set up camp at Horseshoe Overlook. Two weeks of absolutely nothing happening. Before this there was a risk of dying from either starvation or hypothermia, but now it feels like you could fall over dead from boredom.

At least you have grown closer to the other women in the gang during that time. You, Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth are currently sitting grouped up together and chatting away.

That is when Karen motions towards Arthur and Uncle and you all turn your head to get a better look at the two men.

"Does it look like they're leaving camp?", Tilly asks and Karen nods as she jumps to her feet.

"Come on, girls. Let's convince them to take us with them to town.", she suggests and you all make your way over.

You look over your shoulders to make sure Miss Grimshaw isn't noticing your attempt to escape. Otherwise she'd come up with thousands of tasks to do around camp to prevent you from leaving while giving you an earful. She's an intimidating woman.

"Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?", Arthur asks, his voice laced with curiosity and Karen let's out a huff.

"Can Miss Grimshaw spare us? What happened to you, Arthur? You got four healthy women here, askin' you to take them out to town and you're worried 'bout chores?"

The outlaw studies you and the other women before he shakes his head with an amused half-smirk.

"Alright. Hop on then."

With a delighted cheer, you all make yourselves comfortable on the back of the wagon. The way out of the forest is shaky and bumpy and you have to hold on to the edge of the bench you're sitting to not fall over and make a fool of yourself.

"Ladies, why don't you sing something for us?", Uncle suggests and the others seem to be more than on board with the idea.

It's a catchy song, one you've never heard before, but you must admit that the singing definitely has some space for improvement. You're pretty sure that every single person in the area and their grandma could hear you approach.

At least the spirits are high and the mood is lighter than you've ever witnessed it. All the laughing and grinning from the others is contagious and you even try to sing along a bit. After countless times of you messing up the lyrics, you eventually decide to give it a rest.

A loud crash rips your group out of their happy bubble and Arthur halts the wagon infront of a coach that's parked on the side of the dirt road. Well, 'parked' is a generous way of putting it. It rather looks like a small disaster had struck it.

The driver is clearly struggling to keep one of the horses in check and it runs off to the other side of the train tracks.

"You should help him, Arthur.", Tilly suggests and he grumbles something to himself before hopping off to talk to the driver.

You and Arthur still have not spend enough time with each other to call yourselves friends, but you'd be a fool to not notice how gentle he treats the horses. They seem to flock to him like pigeons to bread crumbs whenever he's nearby.

Like now. You watch him calm down the escaped horse with just a few words before he leads it back by the reigns. It's fascinating to see how his rough facade melts away when he deals with animals as if he prefers their company over a person's.

"That was quite impressive, Arthur.", you say to him once he's back in the driver's seat and continues to drive.

"Ah, it was nothin'. The horse was just a bit spooked, is all."

Another thing you haven't failed to notice about him is the fact that he deflects every single compliment and praise people give him. Either he directs it at someone else or he plays it off as if it's nothing special he did.

Over the course of the last couple weeks you've found out a lot about his character. More through actions than words of course, but he seems to be the type that prefers to speak through gestures anyways.

Buildings appear in the distance and shortly after the chatter of a crowd fills the air. Finally, civilization. You begin to wonder how the town might look like. This is in the past after all and you've only seen a handful of pictures of how things used to look.

Once you get closer to Valentine you wrinkle your nose at the stench. It's a mix of shit from a variety of different animals and dried piss. That definitely dampens your excitement from earlier.

"Us girls will head into the saloon and see what we can find out about this place.", Karen says after everyone gets off. You're careful to not step into the spots where the mud looks softer, scared to end up ankle deep in the dirt.

Mary-Beth wraps her arm around yours and shoots you a wide smile.

"You can come with us."

An unsure chuckle escapes your throat and you wave your hand around in the air. The girls have told you before how they scam people (mainly men) and you're not certain if you're quite confident enough in yourself to be able to pull off that kind of stuff.

"Oh, I don't know.", you mumble and she gives your shoulder a playful slap.

"Don't worry about it. We'll teach ya how it's done and with a pretty face like yours, you'll have anyone wrapped around your finger in seconds.", she answers and her fingers give your arm a reassuring squeeze.

Since you're a member of a gang now, it wouldn't be too bad of an idea to learn how to play the part. People will expect you to contribute at some point so might as well start sooner than later.

As Mary-Beth drags you towards the saloon, you throw one last glance at Arthur and Uncle who disappear into a shop. For a town this size, the saloon turns out to be pretty packed.

"So how we usually do it is we find some drunk moron and empty his pockets. Sometimes they drop some good information too like a coach that can be robbed or somethin' like that.", Karen explains and you nod along.

So far it sounds simple, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it will be. You have never stolen anything from someone and the thought of doing it here is anxiety inducing considering that half of the  customers carry guns with them.

I shouldn't have left the revolver back in the camp.

Luckily the girls are kind enough to not only explain the job a bit further and give you advice, they also paid for your drink which is something you desperately need right now. The whisky burns as it slides down your throat and you feel it fuel your courage a bit.

Maybe this won't be too difficult. Majority of the men here look like they're about to pass out as they stand so it's highly likely they won't notice your hand slip into their coats and satchels. Nevertheless, you decide to stay at the table for now and build up some more confidence while the girls start to spread out and do their thing.

You take the opportunity to watch them a bit to see how it's done in practice. It doesn't take long for all three to find their targets and your eyes follow Tilly and Karen leaving the saloon with each a victim glued to to their side. Impressive. That was quick.

Mary-Beth on the other hand is leaned against the bar counter and giggling away at something one of the guys said. Her hand caresses his arm and you watch her skilfully reach into his pocket to pull out some dollar bills. It happened so fast that you almost missed it.

Perhaps they were right. This seems like child's play and you don't even have to pick out a poor soul, because one of them finds you first. A man stumbles over to your table and makes no effort to hide the way his eyes roam shamelessly over your figure. The look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin' 'ere all alone, huh?", he asks and the stench of alcohol hits you like a freight train.

You fight back a gag and force a smile on your lips. This guy is so drunk he probably doesn't even remember his own name at this point. A plan begins to form in your mind as you reach out towards his hand.

"I'm looking for some company.", you say with the sweetest voice you could muster up and a sickening grin spreads over his face.

That grin is going to haunt you in your nightmares, that's for sure.

"Company, eh? Why don't we go someplace quiet then, you pretty thing?"

Everything within you is screaming at you to keep as much distance from him as possible, but you ignore the voices in your head. Instead you slowly get up from your chair and let him place a hand on your lower back.

Too low for your taste, but you comfort yourself with the fact that this will take only a couple minutes. You'll rob him of his money and then take off as fast as possible.

As he leads you towards the back of the saloon, you have to force your legs to take each step forward. Every fiber in your body seems to be fighting against this, but you know you have to power through this. If you don't learn how to rob people now then you will only have problems later on.

You recall what Mary-Beth did at the bar and let your hands wander over the man's torso. The movements are slow and light to make him think you're just flirting and being a bit touchy.

Then you feel a change of texture and you slip your finger into one of the jacket pockets. There is paper. Dollar bills. Your heart makes a victory leap and you bite back the proud grin on your lips while you fish out the money.

And the best part of it all is that the man hasn't noticed a damn thing. Karen was right when she told you that drunk morons make easy targets.

Like stealing candy from a child.

Now that your work here is done you stop in your tracks right after you cut the corner behind the saloon. The man gives you a puzzled look.

"I just now remembered that I have some important errands to run." You quickly excuse yourself and turn on your heels to leave, but he stops you.

The iron grip his hand has on your wrist startles you and you try to pull away. Yes, he might be as drunk as they come, but he's strong. Fear takes ahold of you.

"And where do ya think you're goin'?", he asks in a threatening tone and his eyes darken.

With a forceful tug, you stumble forward into his arms and the foul stench emanating from him makes your stomach turn. No matter how hard you push him away, his arms keep you securely in place.

Now would be a perfect time to pull out your cattleman if you hadn't been so stupid to leave it behind. So you do the only thing that's left for you to do, which is to ram your knee between his legs and break free from his hold.

Just as you turn around to run off, he grabs you by your blouse and yanks you backwards. There's nothing that could help you prevent the fall and you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you make contact with the ground.

You feel a warm liquid spread in your mouth and the taste of iron lacing your tongue. A shadow falls over you and the man is menacingly towering above you. Anger is written all over his face as he drags you back to your feet.

He pulls back his arm and you close your eyes, preparing yourself for his fist to make contact with your face, but it never comes to that. You feel someone pulling you away and your eyelids flutter open.

You're being met with broad shoulders and a hand gently pushing you back. Arthur is standing infront of you with his hands balled up into fists and a murderous glare on his tanned face.

"Have you lost your damn mind, boy?"

The drunk man takes a few steps back and lifts his hands with an awkward chuckle.

"Listen, partner, we was just havin' some fun-"

"Fun? That's what you call it? Hurtin' and threatenin' a lady is fun to ya?", Arthur roars and closes the distance between him and the man with just two strides.

With both hands, he grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer. Since Arthur is taller (by a long shot) the other man is struggling to stay on his toes.

"If I ever catch you even touching another strand of hair on this woman's head, I will personally make sure that you'll never use your hands again. Have I made myself clear, partner?"

The drunk man only nods hastily and scurries off so fast as if the devil himself is chasing him. Arthur studies your face thoroughly when he turns around like he's searching for any injuries or bruises.

"You alright, miss?", he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, don't worry. At least I managed to steal something from him.", you answer and hold up the cash you stole from the man.

With only a nod for an answer, he lightly brushes your shoulder with his hand to indicate for you to start walking. The contact lasted only for a split second, but the warmth of his fingers still lingers on that spot.

"I'm sorry you had to step in.", you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk back to where the wagon is parked.

"Don't apologize. Tilly and Karen needed some rescuin' as well."

"But still." You look up at him. "Thank you by the way. I was really scared back there."

"I know. Just be more careful next time. You could start carryin' a knife around or somethin'."

Or maybe that revolver of mine. I brought it with me for this exact reason after all.

Once the wagon comes back in sight and the others catch a glimpse of you, the girls start waving with their arms.

"Are you okay?", Mary-Beth asks with concern edged on her soft features.

"Yes, just covered in dirt and probably horse shit.", you joke to lighten the mood, but then you notice a nasty bruise on Karen's face.

Your eyes go wide and you clasp your hand over your mouth with a gasp.

"Karen, you're hurt!"

The blonde woman waves it off in a casual manner as if she spilled some tea over her clothes instead of taking a punch to the face.

"You should see what Arthur did to the other guy.", she answers.

Just as you open your mouth to respond, a man wearing a checkered suit comes to a abrupt halt infront of your group.

"Hey, haven't I seen you in Blackwater?", the man exclaims with his eyes fixed on Arthur.

"Nah, I've never been there."

You see the others sharing weird looks and tensing up. This is bad. If this guy really recognizes Arthur and word spreads around...the gang could end up in some serious trouble.

"No, you were definitely there! I know you!"

Your eyes fall on Arthur who takes a few steps towards the man with the suit and he waves him over.

"Come here so we can talk for a second.", he suggest, but the man takes off right as he finishes the sentence.

Arthur mumbles a 'shit' before he orders Uncle to take you and the girls back to camp and jumps on a stranger's horse to pursue the stranger.

"Shouldn't we help him?", you ask with a worried expression, but the others shake their head.

"Arthur can handle this. We'd just get in the way.", answers Tilly. She's right. There isn't much you can do to help him and it's not like you know how to ride a horse anyways.

---

The setting sun is bathing the entire camp in a warm, orange light. It's a slow evening today. A soft tune, coming from Javier's guitar, is playing in the distance and the gang members are either resting at the fireplace or chatting casually with one another.

As you look around to take in the peaceful view, you hear the galloping of a horse approaching and you watch Arthur as he hitches his Tennessee Walker on one of the posts. He has been gone all day after you, Uncle and the girls made it home from Valentine.

As he comes closer to where you're sitting, you notice the dried dirt on his clothes and you raise an eyebrow.

"Did the Blackwater guy get you this dirty?", you ask him the moment he's in ear shot and he looks down at himself with a displeased expression.

"No, some of the boys got into a fight at the saloon."

The corners of your mouth curl up into a sly smirk. "So you decided to roll around in mud?"

Arthur rolls theatrically with his eyes, but you don't miss out on the amused gleam in them. "Very funny."

You grab a mug and fill it up with some coffee and hand it over to him. For a brief second your fingers brush as he takes it from your hand, mumbling a quick 'thank you' and you cough into your fist.

"But the Blackwater guy...did you catch him?", you ask him and he takes a long sip from the coffee.

"I sure did. Turns out he just mixed me up with someone else."

"Obviously." Your voice is oozing with sarcasm.

Arthur fishes something shiny out of his pocket and hands it over to you. "He even gave me this fancy pen as an apology."

"How very kind of him."

For a while the two of you just sit there in comfortable silence while Arthur enjoys his coffee.

"You sure you're doin' okay?" If you listen closely you can detect a slight hint of concern in his tone.

"Why do you ask?" You turn to face him completely now and he waves his hand around in the air.

"You know, with what happened in Valentine."

You let out a deep sigh as you return to continue observing the sunset. That has been a scary experience, yes. One that could have definitely ended very badly, but for some reason it hasn't hit you that hard. Not as much as the wolf attack at least.

"I think the fact that I actually managed to rob that scumbag is what makes me feel okay with it." With a lift of your chin, you motion towards the donation box next to Dutch's tent. "I gave some of the money to the camp."

"Good, good.", Arthur mumbles and stands up with a grunt.

He places his hands on his weapon belt and looks around. "Well, I'll better be goin' now. Thanks for the coffee again."

You shove your hand inside your pocket, playing with the money you stole earlier today. A strange sense of pride fills you as you recall the memory. Sure, it was a small feat compared to what the gang usually does and who knows what would have happened if Arthur hadn't stepped in in time, but still.

It feels good to contribute and you catch yourself wanting to do it again.

Chapter Text

"Let me clear those cans for you, Mr. Pearson.", you tell the cook as you sweep the empty food cans into a sack.

The man lifts his eyebrows slightly in surprise, but the expression leaves his face as fast as it had appeared. With a gruff 'thank you' that he mumbles into his mustache, he turns away to continue his work.

Do you genuinely want to clean the camp up a bit? Yes. Do you have any ulterior motive with this? Absolutely.

Lately the cogs and gears in your mind have been turning and replaying the recent events that took place in Valentine and back in Colter. It's not an exaggeration to say that you downright suck at handling weapons and the wolf pack and the drunk man are just two of many reasons why you should start getting better at it.

Some of the people in the camp turn their heads in your direction as you haul the sack over your shoulder and make your way off the cliff towards the river. The clanking of the metal you're carrying is probably alarming the entire wildlife and everyone who passes by.

What you need is a nice, secluded spot so no one interrupts you and you know just the place. One of the boys has mentioned a clearing off road close by the river. The sound of the rushing water is going to drown out any noise you'll be creating.

After a 20 minute walk you reach your destination and start lining up the cans on a rock.

Okay, let's do this.

You squint your eyes to get a better aim and raise the revolver with both hands. You've seen Arthur shoot with just one arm before, but there is no way you'd be able to pull that off. It would look kind of badass though.

After firing a couple shots, you step closer to the targets to inspect your results and surprise! None of the bullets came even close to the cans and you shake your head in frustration.

So you try it again.

And again.

And again...

"Fucking shit!", you hiss under your breath and hurl the gun at the makeshift targets with an irritated noise emanating from your throat. Of course you miss that as well.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to shoot at the targets and not around 'em?", a male voice behind you says and you turn around.

You let out an offended huff as Arthur hitches up his horse on one of the trees and you pick up your revolver from the ground.

"Easy for you to say.", you mumble and aim for the cans.

Suddenly you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders and the unexpected contact sends a startled shiver down your spine.

"Relax your shoulders a bit. You ain't gonna hit nothin' if you're stiff as a plank.", he says in a low voice. "Take a deep breath in and then breathe out. Once there's no more air in your lungs, shoot."

You can't imagine how much of a difference that's going to make, but you decide to take his advice anyways. After pushing all the air out of your lungs, you let your shoulders relax and pull the trigger.

Well, you might not have hit the target, but the bullet got definitely a bit closer this time. The corner of your mouth curl up into a thrilled grin and Arthur nods in your direction.

"That wasn't too bad. If ya keep up like this we might just make a fine gunslinger out of ya."

You let out an amused chuckle at his comment.

"Sure. I'm just happy if I manage to not accidentally put a bullet in my own head."

"That doesn't sound too ideal, no. I prefer ya alive."

The outlaw walks over to a tree and leans his back against it while lighting a cigarette. It doesn't look like he's in a hurry to leave anytime soon, so you keep on practicing.

None of the food cans are being knocked off, but at least you manage to hit the rock they're lined up on. That counts as a victory in your book if anyone asks.

"So, what are you doing out here?", you ask Arthur after emptying your cattleman of ammunition.

"I saw you leave camp with a suspicious amount of trash and thought I'd look into it.", he answers teasingly and pushes himself off the treetrunk. "I'm kiddin'. Strauss sent me to collect some debt."

Upon hearing the word 'debt', you snap your head up to look at him. Is he on his way to Thomas Downes right now? Or worse. Maybe he's already on his way back.

Silently you curse yourself out for not paying closer attention to the outlaw's activities, but it's not like you can follow him around the place 24/7.

"And who is the poor soul who owes us money?", you ask and try your hardest to sound casual.

"Some guy called Wróbel."

It feels like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders when you hear the name and you bite back a relieved sigh. For a second there you really thought you have fucked it all up.

"Can I join you?"

The look Arthur gives you makes it seem like you asked him to shoot you between the eyes.

"Ah, I don't know about that. Collectin' money from people...it can get nasty and I wouldn't want you to get caught up in some crossfire."

"I can take care of myself.", you answer in a matter of fact way and raise the revolver for him to see.

At that he simply let's out a snort.

"You couldn't kill a mouse if it was blind, deaf and had no legs."

You make no effort to mask your offense, but decide to fight him no further on this topic. Yes, you want to go with him and help, but you're not stupid. You're aware that you'd be putting yourself and possibly him in danger unnecessarily.

With a sigh, you slide the gun back into the holster of your belt and start collecting the cans to put them back into the sack. It would be a good idea to hide it between some rocks and make this area your designated spot for shooting practice.

The thought of having to carry your makeshift targets from camp to here and then back again didn't fill you with much joy.

"I should head back I think.", you say to Arthur after cleaning up the space and he motions towards his horse.

"Let me give ya a ride home."

At that you shake your head. "Oh, you don't have to go out of your way to bring me home. You were heading out to the opposite direction and the walk isn't that long."

But it doesn't look like you can convince him to let you go by yourself.

"I don't mind the small detour. Come on."

With a soft smile on your lips, you hoist yourself up onto the back of the horse. Shortly after that Arthur jumps onto the saddle as well and the two of you start going.

It's a bit of a struggle to not slide off during the ride so you make sure to hold onto Arthur's jacket tightly. You just hope you're not squeezing him too hard. Not that that would hurt a mountain of a man such as him, but still.

Surprisingly enough, he is, this time, the one to break the silence between you. "You seem to fit in with everyone just fine."

He's right. Before your journey you were worried sick about what the others in the gang might think of you. You are no outlaw and have zero experience and knowledge about that line of work.

Sure, Arthur has talked about some members almost fondly in his journal, but that doesn't change what these people are at the end of the day. Criminals and criminals aren't known to be the welcoming kind.

"Because everyone is so nice.", you answer with a hint of disbelief in your voice. "Or most of the people are nice."

The comment at the end stole a quiet cackle from the man.

"If you think we're nice then I don't wanna meet the people you kept around before you met us."

Now it's your turn to laugh.

"Oh, you know what they say. Bad company is better than no company."

"I think that saying goes a little different.", he argues in a playful spirit.

The awkwardness that was always hanging in the air when you two first met has disappeared completely by now. It's safe to say that Arthur is one of the few people in the gang you feel fully comfortable with.

Funny, how fast you're starting to feel safe around him as well considering that he has killed, robbed and injured countless folks, but that's something that oddly enough never comes to mind when you're with him.

With some other gang members your brain and body automatically become more vigilant when you find yourself in their proximity. Not with him though.

The ride back to camp comes sooner to an end than you would have liked and you carefully slide off the horse. That one time you got off you almost fell face first into the ground and you'd prefer to avoid that. At least infront of people.

"Thanks, Arthur."

"Ah, as I said I don't mind a small detour.", he says with a wave of his hand.

"I don't only mean the ride."

The corners of his mouth lift for a split second before he tips his black hat in your direction and trots away with his horse. As you look after him, you don't notice a certain blonde woman join your side.

A knowing smirk is displayed on her freckled face and she playfully pokes your shoulder. "Look who's sweet on Arthur."

Heat shoots into your face and you hastily shake your head.

"Sweet on him? Who? Me? No." You're really not doing yourself any favors with how awful that denial sounded.

Karen on the other hand finds your embarrassment more than entertaining and she let's out a loud, hearty laugh.

"Relax! I'm just teasin' ya."

Knowing that she isn't being serious with her accusation does calm you down a bit. It's just that you don't want these people to get the wrong idea. Besides, you're not here to date anyone.

Catching feelings during your stay here would complicate things too much. You don't belong here and you're not here to stay.

Much to your own relief Karen stops teasing you immediately after and asks you to join her for a cup of coffee while you chat about your day. That's when your eyes fall on Sadie who's sitting on a log at the edge of camp.

Even in that distance you can't overlook how puffy and red her eyes are. Poor thing has been crying nearly everyday and Miss Grimshaw has started to give her a harsh time for not "contributing enough".

What does that woman expect from her? It's not like one can simply stop mourning over their spouse over night. Then an idea begins to form in your head and you walk over to Sadie after your talk with Karen.

"Hey.", you softly make your presence known to not startle the woman. People here seem to have the tendency to sneak up on others on a regular basis. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go run some errands with me."

She lifts her head to look at you, a thoughtful expression on her face as if she's considering your offer.

"I'm not too sure if I'm in the mood for shoppin'.", she answers. Only now do you take actual notice of her deep southern drawl.

With one casual movement of your hand you slide your coat aside to reveal your weapon belt and the weapon attached to it. If you remember correctly from the journal, Sadie is one unrestrained force of nature.

You might not have anything too exciting planned for the two of you, but your shopping destination might pique her interest.

"I need some bullets."

For the first time since you've met her, something flickers in her gaze as her eyes fall on the revolver. It's hard to tell what it means.

"I'll help ya prepare the wagon." With these words she stands up from the log and together you starting getting the horses and everything else ready.

Sadie is kind enough to take over the reigns which is something you're extremely grateful for. You don't feel confident enough in your driving skills to get out of the forest unscathed just yet.

"I had no idea you owned a gun.", she breaks the silence and your fingers trace over the leather of the belt.

"A friend gave it to me. For protection."

"And do you know how to use it?"

A bitter chuckle escapes your throat as you think about the unscathed cans back at your practice spot.

"Not at all."

She let's out an amused noise and shoots you a quick look. "I can teach ya if ya want."

Your eyes widen as you watch her from the side. "You'd really help me?"

"Of course. I can handle a gun. My husband and I-" The words get caught up in her throat as if she's choking on them.

Her eyes are fixed on the road and you can tell that the memories of her late husband still lay heavy on her. Of course they do.

You decide that it's better to not push the topic and instead place your hand on her shoulder. For the remainder of the ride you just sit in silence, but it's not awkward. It's actually kind of nice.

By the time you arrive at Valentine the sun is already setting and you hurry to the gunsmith. Thankfully Francis has given you a gun from the 1890s instead of a modern one. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to buy ammunition and goddamn, do you need it.

While you pay for a pack of bullets you catch Sadie inspect a rifle in the corner of your eyes. It looks so familiar in her hands and you're really starting to look forward to the shooting lessons with her.

It's a nice chance to build a connection with her and maybe, hopefully distract her for at least a short while. She needs a break.

"I'll head out and check the general store while we're here. Do you wanna come?"

She lowers the rifle and thinks for a moment before answering. "No, I'll look around a bit longer."

"Okay, see you at the wagon then.", you say as you exit the shop.

On your way to the general store you pass the saloon and it sounds like a whole commotion is going on in there. Any other time you'd just walk by, not paying it any mind, but there is an all too familiar voice booming through the entrance.

With your interest piqued, you step through the double swinging doors and find a very drunk, very confused looking Arthur.

"Lenny!"

Lenny is here too?

The outlaw spins around, screaming for the young man from the top of his lungs and visibly upsetting the other customers with the noise. Then his eyes fall on you and they light up in recognition while a wide grin begins to spread on his flushed face.

"Hey! When did ya get here?", he yells excitedly and walks over to you with swaying steps.

"How many drinks did you have?", you ask as you watch him struggle to keep his balance.

"A couple."

Another voice that you recognize chimes in. "Arthur! Where have you been? I was lookin' all over for you."

Lenny comes stumbling along with the same big smile on his face like Arthur. He too reacts absolutely thrilled at your presence and gives your shoulder a friendly pat.

Chuckling, you shake your head. "I shall leave you boys to it then."

"No, you should stay!", protests Lenny almost immediately which earns an eager nod from Arthur. It's so odd to see the latter man this...let's say bouncy to put it mildly.

"Sorry, I can't. Sadie is waiting for me outside."

You don't even give them the opportunity to try to talk you into staying some longer. With a quick pat on their shoulder, you swiftly start to leave. However their night is going to end, a voice in the back of your mind tells you to not get involved.

Sadie tilts her head in a puzzled manner when you return back to her and climb onto the wagon. "You didn't buy anythin'?"

"Nah, I got distracted, but it's okay. It wasn't important anyways.", you answer as you shake your head.

You bite back a chuckle when you remember the look on Arthur's face once he spotted you in the saloon. He looked so genuinely happy to see you.

The mental image stirs something up deep within you, but it vanishes before you could identify the feeling.

---

The midday sun is high in the sun and beating down on you. Pearls of swear are starting to form on your forehead and you wipe them away with the sleeve of your blouse.

Mr. Pearson had asked you to help him cut up some vegetables for the stew which you happily agreed to. It's a job where you can think and daydream by yourself without having to focus too much on the task at hand.

Even now you're lost in your thoughts until a mix of groaning and grunting abruptly rips you out of your mind palace. You look up to see where the noise is coming from and lock eyes with Arthur.

His expression is sour and his face is paler than ever. By the looks of it it must have been a long night yesterday. Lenny is following closely behind him and doesn't look any better.

"Seems like you boys had fun last night.", you comment with a smirk und Arthur takes a seat on a folding chair close to the cooking station.

"I don't even remember most of it.", he grumbles and runs his hand over his face. "I feel like shit."

"And you look like it too.", you reply and he let's out a bitter snort.

"Thanks."

You hand him a water flask which he gratefully accepts and chugs almost everything in one go.

"Why did you guys go out drinking anyways?" Curiosity is laying heavy in your voice. Sure, they drink a beer or two, but Arthur and Lenny don't really strike you as the type to get this piss drunk on a random occasion.

"Lenny came back from Strawberry all anxious yesterday, because Micah got arrested."

Everything within you basically gags at the mere mention of that two faced snake. Saying that the reminder of him alone makes you feel uncomfortable in ways you have never felt before is a blatant understatement.

"There's talk of hangin' him."

"Here's hoping.", you answer which earns you a cackle from Arthur.

"That's exactly what I told Dutch."

He hands you back the water flask and pushes himself up from the chair with a pained grunt. "I gotta head out though."

You follow his movement with widened eyes and raised eyebrows. "But you just got here. Shouldn't you rest a bit?"

"Nah, I gotta meet up with the boys to rescue Sean. We got a lead on where he is."

That name rings a bell. You haven't met him yet, but you know that he's been taken by some bountyhunters after that mysterious riverboat job everyone keeps referencing.

"Okay, just make sure to come back in one piece.", you yell after him and he simply lifts his hand to indicate that he heard you.

---

Arthur, Sean, Javier and Charles arrive late during the evening and loud cheering echoes through the camp. They have all missed him very much. Especially Karen who looks like she's going to tear up any moment.

"I had no idea you were so sweet on him.", you comment which earns you a slap on the shoulder.

"Oh, shut it.", she says through chuckles, but doesn't deny it.

The Irishman's return turns into a warm welcoming party. Drinks are being shared and the sound of Javier's guitar and laughter fills the air. The sight of Karen being practically glued to Sean's side steals an amused smirk from you.

Tilly who's sitting next to you at the fireplace sways her body from side to side in sync with the guitar's melody and she passes a whisky bottle to you. With a mumbled 'thank you' you take a swig from it and feel the warmth from the alcohol spread in your chest.

You're starting to really enjoy the gang's energy and the strong sense of community in this camp. It's starting to almost feel like a big family to you instead of just a bunch of random people who have happened to end up being grouped up together.

"Would you like to dance with me, Arthur?"

Mary-Beth stands up from a chair and straightens her blue skirt. He thinks for a second before he nods and places his hand on her waist. "Sure, why not."

You watch them with a soft smile and laugh quietly to yourself at the view. Arthur with his massive stature is moving in a rather clumsy and rough manner, but the grin on his face shows how much fun he's having.

It's so nice to see him like this.

"Why don't you go ask him to dance with you too?", Tilly asks and rips you out of your thoughts. You blink a couple times at her in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Her lips curl up in a playful way and she nudges your shoulder with hers.

"You know exactly what I mean."

You awkwardly cough into your fist at her statement and shake your head. "It's nothing like that, Tilly."

The look on her face makes it more than obvious that she doesn't believe a word youre saying, but drops the topic much to your relief. To avoid any further embarrassment you decide to let your gaze wander somewhere else and stifle a yawn.

Maybe it's time to head to bed.

Some of the others have gone to sleep as well by now so it wouldn't be too weird of you to leave the party.

Before you get up from the log, you hand the whisky bottle back to Tilly and excuse yourself as you walk towards the tent that you're sharing with the other girls. A strained grunt leaves your lips and you stretch your back.

Sitting on that thing all evening and night has fucked with both your back and ass and now you feel as stiff as a catholic nun.

"Goin' to sleep already?"

With a startled noise you turn around to meet a particular pair of blue eyes and you let out an irritated huff. "Can you stop sneaking up to me all the time?"

"Im not sneakin'. It ain't my fault you're so jumpy."

"Sure."

Your discontent doesn't last long. Actually, now that you think about it you never manage to hold a grudge against the outlaw for too long. He doesn't always get on your nerves of course, but when he does the aggravation never stays for longer than half a minute or so.

"Weren't you dancing just now?", you ask and peek over his shoulder to see where he left Mary-Beth.

"Ah, I thought I should stop makin' a fool of myself."

"Well, I thought you looked quite adorable.", you point out, gaining a snort from the outlaw.

Arthur scratches his bearded cheek and nods to himself, looking as if he doesn't know what to say anymore. The same goes for you and you feel like you're going to fall asleep standing so you decide that it would be best to call it a day now.

You break the long stretched silence and motion towards your bedroll. "I should really get some sleep now though."

"Yea, 'course. Well, uh...goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Arthur."

You shoot him a warm smile and he tips his cowboy hat in your direction before joining the other again.

For some reason you can't shake off the feeling that there was more that he has wanted to tell you.

Chapter Text

It's another slow day and usually you use them to pay your practice spot a visit, but not this time. Arthur and John are standing at the edge of the camp and you're currently busy eavesdropping a little bit.

It's not because you're nosy or anything. There's actually a genuine and good reason why you're trying to insert yourself into their business.

Yes, Arthur tells you about the jobs he's been doing all over Valentine and New Hanover when you have your daily conversation in the morning or evening, but the day that he told you about collecting money from this Wróbel and you not being aware of that...saying that it had scared you shitless would be an understatement.

Now that you think about it, it does sound a tad dramatic, but it wasn't like that in the moment! You sincerely thought that he had gone to Mr. Downes!

It's just that you don't want to miss it when he leaves to pay that man a visit. Then another idea pops up in your head. Maybe it would be smart to get a bit closer to Strauss and that way he might tell you when he'll send Arthur to get the money.

Something stirs in the corner of your eye and you watch Arthur and John head for the hitching posts.

Shit, now I missed the last part.

With hasty steps you make your way over to the two men and lean against the post Arthur's Tennessee Walker is attached to. John rides off almost right after.

"A train job, huh?" There is a mischievous smirk growing on your face and Arthur raises an eyebrow at that as he hoists himself up on the saddle.

"Yup." You were hoping for a longer answer, but oh well. At this point you've gotten pretty good at getting information out of this man.

"So where are you heading to?"

"I'm gettin' an oil wagon.", he answers while petting his horse.

Your reply shoots out of you like a bullet. "I know where to find one."

"Yea, I know already. There is this oil place so I'll be headin' in during the night to-" He doesn't get to finish his sentence before you interrupt him.

"No, no! There is a wagon in Valentine around this time usually. It's by the entrance of the town, close to the stables and if I remember correctly there is only one guard and that's the driver."

Arthur nods to himself as your words sink in. "Thanks for the tip. I'll go there then."

As he turns his horse around to leave, you almost immediately jump infront of him. "Take me with you."

It doesn't come to a surprise to you to see him shake his head at your proposition.

"Not a chance. There might be some shootin' and if we don't get hit then the oil wagon will and well." He waves his hand around in the air. "You know 'bout that part."

The corners of your mouth curl up into a knowing smirk. "What if I make sure that it doesn't come to that?"

A snort leaves his throat and he looks down at you in disbelief. "And how'd ya do that, huh?"

"I'll distract the guard. Lead him away a bit and by the time he notices it's missing you'll be long gone."

"And what about you?"

"Oh, he won't be interested in me anymore after that. While he's looking for the wagon I will slip away too."

His expression is unreadable, but the look in his blue eyes betrays the fact that he's considering it. With Francis you would have thrown another argument in to push him further to where you want him to be, but you know by now that Arthur is the opposite in that regard.

If you interrupt his thought process now then he will shut down completely so you're standing silently and waiting for his answer. It seems like the whole day is going by before he says anything.

"Alright. Hop on."

You bite back a victory noise that threatens to come out of your mouth and quickly make your way to the back. The outlaw offers his calloused hand to you and helps you on top.

It's been a while since your last crime, but the yearning for it has only grown over the course of the last two weeks. What a strange thing that is to find out about yourself. You would have never thought of developing these criminal tendencies, but there is a lot about yourself you've been discovering lately.

Arthur rips you out of your thoughts. "I'm assumin' that you got a plan?"

Of course you do. Ever since you overheard John talk about the train job the plan has been brewing in your mind like a good stew.

"We should enter the town separately so no one sees that we're together. I'll pretend that my horse has gotten injured further back on the road and now I need a big and strong man to help me." You put on a pretend desperate tone at the last past and theatrically place the back of your hand on your forehead.

"And what if that doesn't work?" His voice is thick with skepticism.

"Arthur Morgan! Are you implying that there is a person out there who would be able to resist my charm?" The feigned offense you're putting on earns you an amused snort from the man.

The reason why you're joking and not giving him a proper answer is, because you don't have a backup. You have no idea what to do if your plan doesn't work, so it's better to play it off confidently before he changes his mind and takes you back to camp.

Is it irresponsible? Perhaps. Are you still excited for it? Unquestionably so.

A few minutes later you get to the point where you part ways for now and you continue the way on foot. Just as expected, the oil wagon comes into view and shortly after you spot the driver leaning on a post next to it.

You take one deep breath to calm your nerves before you approach him and button up your summer coat a bit to hide the gun. Of course you don't plan on using it, but you won't make the mistake of leaving it back in camp ever again.

"Excuse me, sir?", you softly call out to him and his head snaps towards your direction. "Oh, sorry if I startled you."

The man takes a drag from his lit cigarette before shaking his head.

He looks young and by the state of his hands, couldn't have been working for too long in his life. A rifle is dangling off his shoulders and judging from his appearance it doesn't seem like he's on guard at all.

But then again who would be dumb enough to steal an oil wagon in broad daylight in a fully occupied town?

"Could you help me maybe?"

"I'm busy." His answer is short and clearly meant to shut down this conversation, but you know better than to give up now.

A strangled sob escapes your throat and you bury your face in both hands. "Sir, my horse got injured further up ahead and if my husband finds out- oh God-"

The noise you're producing starts to become a bit more hysterical and you take a peak between your fingers. An overwhelmed expression can be seen on the young man's face and he lifts his hands awkwardly.

"Miss, could you keep it down-"

Instead you let out an ear piercing weep and grab the driver by his shoulders. "He's going to shoot me! Oh, you're killing me, sir!"

Some passersby are turning their heads in your direction to get a better look at the loud scene you're causing. The guard firmly pushes you around the corner, visibly uncomfortable over the fact that you're putting him on the spot like that.

"Are you out of your damn mind?", he hisses through gritted teeth and you bite back the victorious grin that is threatening to form on your lips.

Arthur will steal that wagon any second now and you intend on buying him some more time. You fling your arms around the man dramatically and pick up your wailing again.

The man rummages through his pockets until he fishes out a few coins and shoves them in your hand. "Go get yourself a drink or somethin' and leave me alone, goddammit."

"But my husband-"

"I don't give a shit, Lady!" His sudden interruption startles you for a brief second, but you catch yourself again.

The moment he disappears around the corner and you hear him cruse in a raised voice, you take flight. It doesn't look like he's pursuing you or anything, but you still don't stop until you're on the whole other side of town.

Your plan is a success and you're going to make sure to rub it into Arthur's face later this evening, but for now you have to get home. Thankfully the camp isn't too far away from Valentine and you play with one of the coins as you start walking.

Helping steal a wagon feels good. Really good. It's giving you a certain rush as if you can take on anything and everything. As you leave the town behind you and pocket the coin you were fidgeting with, a voice calls out to you.

"Hey, sweet thing! What's a lady like you doin' all alone out here?"

A group of three men is standing to your right with their horses hitched to a tree. You don't dare to look at heir direction and so you keep your head down and pick up your pace. If you pretend you didn't hear him then maybe they will leave you alone.

"I'm talkin' to ya!"

Without them noticing, you start to unbotten your coat to give you easy access to the revolver just in case they keep harassing you or it escalates. Then you overhear another guy mumbling something to the other two.

"I've seen her before. She's ridin' with Dutch!"

Upon hearing these words you start sprinting as fast as you can and grab the gun from your holster. It's useless to outrun them, you know that. Their horses will catch up to you in no time and that is exactly what happens.

One of them cuts off the path infront of you and soon enough there is no way for you to escape to. They have you completely surrounded and you cling onto the cattleman with dear life.

"You're comin' with us, sweetheart.", one of them snarls and the blood rushing in your ears almost drowns out his sentence.

A familiar feeling gets ahold of you and keeps you in an iron grip. Panic. The same panic that coursed through your veins when you got attacked by wolves near Colter.

The man infront of you jumps down from his horse and leisurely strolls towards you. He doesn't seem threatened by your gun at all.

"Ooohhh, watch out, guys! We got a dangerous one on our hands!" His voice is oozing with a mix of mockery and sarcasm.

You should have fired a long time ago, but an unknown force is holding you back. It's like there is a wall in the back of your mind blocking you from doing it.

Before he can get any closer to you, though, you quickly jerk up the gun with trembling hands. His expression turns from one of amusement to surprise at your sudden motion and almost instinctively, he leaps forward.

All air leaves your lungs as his body collides into yours and you're being violently thrown into the dust. A gasp escapes your lips and you body sets into autopilot while the man tries to take the weapon away from you.

There is no question, he's way stronger rhan you and if you don't step into action now you will be doomed. So without aiming or giving it much thought you pull the trigger.

The bang leaves an uncomfortable ringing in your ears and you feel something warm and wet spread on your abdomen. You're met with a terrified expression and wide glassy eyes as your attacker stares down at you in shock.

Only a few heartbeats later, all life drains from his face as if it's being sucked out of him and his body goes limb. It takes a second for the realization of what you've done to hit you and boy, does it hit you hard.

For the first time ever, you have taken another person's life. There is this strange, hollow feeling in your chest and with all your might you push the dead man off you. The next moment you feel something of a strong wave course through your body and you empty the contents of your stomach instantly.

"You fuckin' bitch!"

Someone yanks you back to your feet by the collar of your blouse and your arms are being twisted behind your back. The rope around your wrist cuts deep into your skin and before you can react, you're being thrown onto the back of a horse.

"Colm's gonna have a field trip with ya. Fuckin' Van Der Linde trash."

You've never encountered any O'Driscoll members, not before or after joining Dutch and you haven't been exactly expecting to make their acquaintances this early on, but alas here you are.

Under any other circumstances you might have been pissing your pants, but the fear is being dampened by the weight of your previous actions. It's as if someone placed a veil over your head like you're looking at the world through a thick curtain.

Hoping is the only thing you could do at the moment. Hoping that someone back in camp notices your absence, but it might be too late by the time that happens.

You might either end up being handed over to the law or six feet underground and then no one will be there to save Arthur.

Arthur.

Thinking about him gives you a small sense of comfort and your eyes flutter shut.

He will come for me. He has to.

Throughout the entire ride you're repeating these two sentences in your mind like a mantra as if you will eventually manifest it over time. When the two men set up a temporary camp somewhere hidden in the woods, they leave you tied to a thick tree.

Your eyes are heavy, but you don't allow yourself to sleep. If you close them now then you might not see where they're taking you and you desperately want to remember the way.

Not that it would help you much anyways. Laying tied up on a horse (and on your stomach nonetheless) doesn't leave much room to take in your surroundings and besides, most of the landscape looks the same to you.

How long have you been riding now though? It's hard to tell. Maybe two days or so? The thought alone makes your aching stomach turn upside down some more.

Just trying to imagine how far away you must be from Horseshoe Overlook makes you sick and miserable to the core. An impending sense of doom is nesting itself in the back of your mind and is slowly crawling closer.

With every passing second, minute and hour you feel more and more lost. No way will Arthur and the others find you now. Not even Charles' impeccable tracking skills could pick up your trail and that revelation makes you want to scream and cry.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at what looks like a base camp. There are two wooden cabins in the middle and a bunch of tents around them. One of the men that has kidnapped you is dragging you harshly towards one of the small houses and you feel everyone's eyes boring into you.

"The boss will come soon and then he'll decide what we will do to ya."

You barely register his words as you stumble through the door. The stench of wet wood, mold and sweat penetrates your nose and you fight back a gag, but it's not like there's anything left inside you to throw up.

Another waiting game starts after they tie you to a bed post, but at least your wrists are binded infront of you. No one expects the dehydrated, malnourished and sleep deprived person they have snatched up to cause much trouble.

Much to your relief, none of the men in camp pay you too much attention. A nasty look here and there is the only thing they're giving you.

They probably don't want to act without Colm's approval which strikes you as odd at first. You didn't think that these animals would respect orders this much, but there is a lot that you haven't been able to foresee lately.

The sun has set a long time ago and the inside of the cabin is drenched in complete darkness. They have pulled the heavy curtains together so that not even the flickering light of the campfire could come through the windows. Either they don't care or they want you to lose the last bit sense of time you've got left.

He will come for me. He has to.

The words sound hollow in your head and have by now lost all meaning. Your eyelids feel like concrete as you struggle to keep your head up.

When was the last time you have allowed yourself to sleep? You don't even remember. How long has it been anyways? A week for sure or even longer.

A certain warmth and coziness suddenly gets ahold of your entire body and you feel yourself slip through a soft crack as darkness begins to envelop you.

---

Shouting can be heard in the distance and then the sound of fireworks. A soft smile forms on your lips at the memory of watching them as a child in the park and you lift your head.

Next thing you knew the door is being swung open and a large silhouette appears in your vision. The figure quickly walks over to the bed post and cuts free the rope

Arthur?

As you blink the sleep and disorientation away and your eyes slowly start to adjust to the light coming in through the open door, you finally get a better look at your rescuer. Only to realize that this person isn't here to rescue you at all.

The green bandana around his neck is indication enough that it's one of the O'Driscoll scum and he's probably here to take you away. No, you refuse you to be dragged further away from your gang.

That's also when you register that the fireworks aren't in fact fireworks, but gunshots.

So they did manage to find me.

With a revolver in his right hand he sneaks towards the entrance and peaks through the open crack of the door. Your wrists are still painfully tight tied together, but you can move your arms around just fine.

Both your mind and heart are racing and before you can even grasp a clear thought, you pick up an empty bottle from the table and smash it over the back of the O'Driscoll's head.

Glass shards scatter across the wooden floor and filthy carpet and the man comes crashing down with a shriek. His hand reaches out to the side as he desperately tries to pick up the gun again.

Before he gets even the chance to get close to it, you're already over him and swing down the broken bottle in a blind rage. There's no specific spot you're aiming for as you bring down the glass on him again and again and again.

You can't recall when his screaming and the gurgling noise coming from his throat stop. All that is going through your brain now is that you won't go down without a fight. You can't and if they do manage to take you then you'll drag them down with you.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms embrace your torso and you squirm, kick and scream in a craze.

Then you hear Arthur's voice close to your ear. "Hey, hey, relax. It's me. It's okay."

You don't halt your resistance immediately out of fear that your mind is playing another trick on you, but the more you hear him talk the more your muscles relax. It can't be fake. You hope it's not.

With an exhausted sob you slide down onto your knees and allow him to remove your ropes. His rough hands treat and touch you in such a gentle and soft way that it makes you want to cry out.

"It's okay. They won't hurt you anymore.", he mumbles under his breath and helps you get back up again.

All the sitting, laying and kneeling from the past week has made you weak in your legs and your thighs are shaking uncontrollably with every step. Arthur quickly takes notice of it and carefully picks you up as if he wants to give you time to protest.

"What took you guys so long?" The question comes out harsher than you have intended.

The outlaw's expression is a hardened mask and his eyes are fixed on something in the distance. If he gives you an answer, you don't hear it. Your consciousness slips away once again as darkness embraces you.

---

As your eyelids flutter open and you sit up with a grunt, you're being met with a freckled face and long, blonde, unruly hair. Saide hastily brings a cup to your lips and you take a sip from it.

The feeling of fresh, cold water sliding down your throat is indescribable and you empty the cup in a matter of heartbeats.

"These animals deserve to rot in hell.", Sadie hisses through gritted teeth and you recall the recent events in your head

Not only one, but two people have died by your hands now. A drained sigh escapes your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Your gaze wanders around to take in the camp and people, having to remind yourself that this is real and that you're safe now.

"What happened while I was gone?", you ask with your voice heavy with curiosity and the need to get your mind off the O'Driscoll camp.

"Dutch sent out a search party the moment we realized you were missing. It's not like he had much of a choice anyways."

The last sentence piques your interest and your ears perk up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Arthur looked like he was gonna kill someone.", she answers in a matter of fact way.

It kinda makes sense. He was the last person you were with before you got kidnapped so he probably feels guilty.

"Where is he now?"

Sadie tilts her head and thinks for a moment before she answers. "Strauss sent him away to collect a debt."

Your heartbeat picks up on speed and you feel all the energy come rushing back to you.

"Where is he?"

The woman furrows her eyebrows in confusion at your sudden urgency. "I don't know-"

Your hands grip her shoulders and you lock eyes with her. "Did he say a name?"

"What has gotten into-'

"A name, Sadie!"

Her mouth stands slightly open as she gives you a puzzled look.

"He mentioned a Thomas Downes I think."

I'm too late.

Chapter Text

As if the devil himself is after you, you jump up from your bedroll and slide your leather boots over your feet. Your eyes dart all over the place in search for your cattleman.

"My gun. Where's my gun?", you mumble under your breath as you look under blankets and behind bags.

That's when you realize that you must have lost your weapon when you got abducted and you hiss a curse through gritted teeth. This entire time Sadie has been watching you with a puzzled expression.

"What's going on?", she asks confused and follows you towards the cliff where Strauss is sitting.

"I can't explain it right now, but I really need to find Arthur.", you answer and stop right infront of the log the Austrian is sitting on. He's currently all caught up in a big and scribbling something on the pages. "Herr Strauss, can you tell me where Thomas Downes lives?"

"Ah, thello there, Miss." As he looks up at you, he puts up his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "He owns a ranch in The Heartlands. Why?"

Without answering his question you simply grumbles a 'thank you' and make your way to the horses. Sadie is still following closely behind you.

"Will ya tell me what's gotten in to you?", she demands and you turn around on your heels to face her.

"It's complicated. I mean it."

For the longest time the two of you just stare at each other before she let's out a defeated sigh and pulls out a revolver from the hem of her skirt. Your eyes widen as she hands it over to you. "I'll let ya borrow it for today, alright?"

Without hesitation you take the gun from her and store it in the pocket of your summer coat. Not only did you loose the cattleman, but your weapon belt as well. What a shame. You really liked that thing.

"Thank you." There are no words in this world that could possibly describe your gratitude at the moment, but you dearly hope that the message comes across.

She nods in your direction without another word and you turn your attention back to the horses. You don't own one of your own just yet, but hopefully someone would let you borrow one and you got just the right person in mind.

"Charles.", you yell towards the man and hastily jog to where he's standing.

"Yes?" By the looks of it, it seems as if the man is on guard duty so the chances are good that he'll let you ride Taima to the Downes Ranch since he won't be needing it.

"Can I ask a favor of you?"

For a second there his eyes narrow suspiciously, but he nods, motioning for you to continue.

"I really need to borrow your horse right now, but I promise I'll bring it back as soon as possible and in one piece."

At that he raises an eyebrow and studies you from top to bottom. You and him haven't talked that much sonce you joined, but when you did it was always friendly and open. Out of everyone with a horse here he's most likely to lend his to you.

"Why?", he asks. You can't blame him for being this wary, but goddammit is it not doing you any favors right now.

"Arthur is collecting this debt and I really, really need to speak to him." Your voice is laced with urgency.

Then suddenly his expression goes from skeptical to alarmed and he grips the rifle in his hands tighter. "Is he in danger?"

"No."

You've got no idea.

His eyes stare deeply into yours as if he's trying to look for any answers in them, anything you haven't told him. After what feels like forever, he sighs and gestures towards his horse. "Okay, you can have her, but make sure nothing happens to her."

"Thank you and you have my word."

With this you mount his horse and signal her to gallop. You only roughly know where The Heartlands are, but if your memory isn't fooling you then the Downes residency might be the only building there. How hard will it be to miss it?

As you ride in high speed along the road you can't stop your mind from racing. All sorts of disastrous thoughts start haunting you and its impossible to banish them. Even when you push them away you still feel them linger in the back of your mind and you press your lips tightly together.

Something wet falls on the top of your head and you look up to see gloomy clouds hovering over you.

Great. Exactly what I needed.

It starts out as a soft, warm rain, but quickly begins to pour to the point where you can barely make anything out infront of you. Taima, Charles' horse, is beginning to slip and stumble a little on the dirt road and you're forced to slow down.

Your heart is pulsing violently in your chest and it's starting to feel like it's going to jump out any moment. Every single catastrophic scenario is being played infront of your inner eye. At this point you're not only having a race against time, but also fighting back the panic attack that is threatening to build up within you.

Then you see it. A light at the end of the tunnel. A house in the distance. This must be it. Finally, you're close.

The sense of relief and triumph doesn't last for long though once your eyes fall on the two figures that are standing in what looks to be a garden. You immediately recognize Arthur's blue dress shirt and worn cowboy hat and you assume that the other person is Mr. Downes.

"Arthur!", you scream from the top of your lungs, but none of the men react. You try again until your throat is sore and again nothing happens. The rain must be drowning out your voice.

Without a second thought your hand grabs the gun Sadie has given you and you point it up to the sky, firing a shot. That is when the two of them practically freeze in place and turn to face you.

There is quite the distance between the two men so there is a chance that they haven't had any direct contact yet. Maybe, only maybe, you have arrived in time.

"What in God's name are you doin' here?", Arthur yells at you over the rain and you come to an abrupt halt next to the garden.

What do I tell him?

"I'm here to stop you!"

The look on his face is one of utter shock and disbelief mixed with a hint of irritation and he takes a step in your direction. "Excuse me?"

This is the part that you haven't thought through at all. The gears in your brain are working overtime as you try to come up with a decent explanation.

"He hasn't got much time left, Arthur! Look at him!" Maybe you could pretend to care, pretend that you're only here to be the voice of reason.

The outlaw's features contort from pure anger and he swings open the gate to walk up to you with a raised finger.

"Did ya seriously show up here to preach morals? To me?"

You bite down on your tongue.

"No, it's just...he's sick, Arthur."

"I don't care if he's one foot in the grave. He owes us money!"

A sigh escapes your throat and it's a struggle to keep up his piercing gaze, but you somehow manage anyways.

"Drop it just this once. Please." Everything about you from your voice to your face is making your desperation obvious.

There is no way that you will let him get close to this man. Not after everything you've been through. Arthur grumbles something into his beard as he mounts his horse and rides past you.

"Arthur-"

"Do not talk to me. You got no right showin' up here and interruptin' me in my work. You knew what we, what I, was when ya joined us."

"That's not-"

He doesn't even wait for you to finish your sentence. His horse carries him away into the distance and you're left here alone in the rain and with a feeling in your chest that you can't quite place.

It's as if someone has carved a hole in there and you're not sure if your cheeks are this wet from the weather or from something else.

"Thank you, Miss." You turn your head to look at Mr. Downes.

It's possible that you didn't only save Arthur from his early death, but that you also gave the sick man next to you more time in his life. It would have been cut short by a lot if you had allowed Arthur to beat the shit out of him which he absolutely would have done.

Knowing that you didn't do it from the good of your heart fills you with guilt and...shame. Saving Arthur and letting Mr. Downes live a bit longer is not motivated by your slowly depleting sense of justice or kindness.

You only did that, because you weren't satisfied with the ending of an old book that randomly fell into your hands one day.

Does that make you a bad person? No, you've saved two lives today after all, but what about the two that you took?

It was in self-defense. I had no other choice.

You take in a deep breath as you close your eyes and signal for Taima to start walking. Arthur looked so pissed when he rode off, but can you blame him?

He doesn't see your interruption as you trying to save him, but as you intruding into his business. Perhaps a small peace offering would ease his anger and then you could give him a better explanation.

You could simply tell him the truth and leave out the timetravel part. Arthur isn't a man who forgives easily, but the chance that he will forgive you is there. Slim, but not non-existent.

By the time you hitch Taima at a post at the general store in Valentine, you've already come up with the perfect gift for him. A bottle of whisky. Granted you don't have the funds to afford a good one, but it's the meaning behind it that counts.

As you thank the shopkeeper and leave through the front door, you feel a pair of eyes in the back of your neck. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you instinctively reach into your pocket where Sadie's gun is secured.

"Excuse me?", a female voice calls out from behind you and you turn around.

A beautiful woman stands before you with long brown hair that is falling over her shoulder as a braid. As you take her whole appearance in, you begin to relax. She doesn't look like a threat.

Shit, that O'Driscoll encounter has left you more anxious than ever.

"Can I help you?", you ask and watch her with raised eyebrows.

"I've seen you with a man around here a couple times. Arthur Morgan?"

Upon hearing her say that name, you immediately grow cautious again. Is this another person from Blackwater who recognized him?

"Who's asking?" You study the woman infront of you through narrowed eyes and she holds out a letter to you.

If she notices your sudden shift in energy then she doesn't show it. "Could you please give him this letter for me? It's important."

That's it? Okay, maybe she's not from Blackwater or another gang. With a nod you take the letter from her and store it into your satchel alongside with the whisky. The weight of the bottle pulls down the bag in an uncomfortable way.

"Should I give him a name?", you ask and she shakes her head.

"No, he'll know who I am."

There is an almost nostalgic look in her eyes and you grow a bit curious. Dammit, you should know better than to stick your nose in Arthur's business by now and you seriously don't have a reason to do it anymore, but this has you more than curious.

"So you used to ride with him and the others?" You're careful to not use the word 'gang' or speak Dutch's name out in public like this. There's always the possibility of the wrong ears listening in on you.

"One could say that, I guess." Her eyes trail over your face and figure. "And you are?"

"Yes, but I've joined them only a while ago. They saved my life."

The woman nods to herself and clasps her hands together as she gives you a polite smile. "I'll better get goin' then."

"Hey, wait." Your hand reaches forward to touch her shoulder. "Are you living here in Valentine or a bit further away? I could give you a ride."

"I'm rentin' out a room north from here, but you really don't have to go out of your way for me.", she answers and you shake your head.

"I seriously don't mind."

For a while none of you say a word as she considers your offer, but then she steps closer to Taima. "Okay, then. Thank you."

The two of you hop onto the horse's back and she points you towards the direction she's staying of the place shes staying at. There is a heavy silence in the air, but not from awkwardness. This entire time you've been getting the feeling that something is burdening this poor woman.

"Are you doing okay?", you ask and her head jerks up as if you startled her.

"Oh, I don't know. My brother, Jamie, he...I'm worried for him.", she answers with a sigh. "He joined this strange religious group and I'm afraid that he might do something stupid."

Something clicks in your brain. "Is that why you're writing to Arthur?"

"Yes, I'm hoping that he'll be so kind to help him, but I'm not so sure he will."

You throw her a quick puzzled look over the shoulder before you set you gaze back onto the road again. "Why wouldn't he help you?"

Sure, he's a rough man, but you can't picture him turning something like this down. He might disagree with you on this, but deep down he's a good man.

"When we parted ways, we...well, it didn't end peacefully.", she answers and you let her words sink in.

"You were a couple." The sentence comes out more as a statement than a question.

Her silence is confirmation enough and a sigh leaves your lips. You wonder what happened between them, but you decide that it's for the best not to pry any more than you already have.

Soon enough you stop by a lone house and the woman slides off the back of the horse.

"Thank you so much again.", she says and you wave it off.

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

Before she could head into the house, you call out to her again. "And don't worry too much about your brother! I'm sure he will be fine and if you want me to I could try to put in a good word with Arthur."

For once the smile on her lips reaches her eyes. "I'd appreciate that a lot."

After waving goodbye, you motion for Taima to start galloping and this time you make your way straight back to the camp.

---

As you hitch the horse at one of the posts, you fish out an oatcake from your satchel and let her eat it out of your hand.

"Everything went well?", you hear Charles ask behind you and you nod with a wide smile.

"Yes, she was amazing.", you answer, giving Taima a soft pat.

He returns your smile and your eyes wander around camp in search for Arthur.

"He's at the cliffside over there." Charles motions with his chin towards the edge of the camp and you furrow your eyebrows.

"How'd you know that I'm looking for Arthur?"

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You storm out like the Devil is chasing you and shortly after he comes storming in the same way? Don't hold me for a fool."

A weak laugh escapes you and you shake your head in bitter amusement. "You're right, I guess."

"Of course I am."

With a wave of your hand you walk away and towards where Charles has pointed you. There he is sitting on a log and holding the same journal you've been flipping through so many times before.

Silently you sit down beside him, making sure to leave enough room between the two of you. The outlaw doesn't say anything. Isn't even looking up or doing anything else to let you know he's acknowledging you.

I've done fucked it up now, huh?

"I want to apologize.", you break the heavy silence and look down at your hands. The entire ride home you were coming up with a good way to put into words what you want to say and now you're struggling to find your voice. "I didn't interrupt you, because I thought what you were doing is wrong."

Arthur still isn't looking away from his journal, but his pencil has stopped scribbling onto the pages. At least you know that he's listening.

"He is sick. With tuberculosis.", you continue and take in a deep, shaky breath. "I was afraid that you might get infected."

You feel his eyes watching you from the side, but you don't dare to turn your head towards him.

"You bein' serious right now?", he asks in a doubtful tone. "You're worried 'bout a cough knocking me out, but not when I go rob trains?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound kind of silly.", you respond and smile to yourself, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

You have no idea.

"Silly? Crazy you mean. You're crazy."

His comment gets a soft chuckle out of you and you take the whisky that you bought out of your bag, handing it over to him. "A peace offering."

Arthur takes the bottle and inspects it with a shake of his head. "You didn't have to."

"So you're not mad at me anymore?"

"'Course not. Yea, I was angry when you came over to the ranch, guns blazin' and all, but I'm over it now. I think."

Another chuckle leaves your throat as you try to imagine what you looked like in that moment. It really must have been an odd sight for him to see you show up and shoot around without a warning.

An awful weight is being lifted off your shoulders though and a wave of relief washes over you. You have been extremely scared all day, thinking that your actions might have destroyed your friendship completely.

"Oh, I just remembered. There is something else I have for you.", you exclaim and his blue eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Shit, maybe I should get angry at you more often if you're gonna continue showerin' me with gifts like that."

As you hand the letter to him, all color seems to fade from his face and he runs his hand over his mouth. You shift awkwardly in your seat.

"A woman approached me in town today. Said she needed to talk to you.", you explain and watch the troubled expression on his features. "It sounded important."

"Uh-huh.", he mumbles under his breath and you slowly stand up from the log.

"I'll leave you to it then." Your voice is barely a whisper.

She has told you that things had ended roughly between them, but you didn't expect Arthur to react this intense. With one last look over your shoulder you leave him to himself and go search for Sadie to return the gun.

Chapter Text

It's a beautiful day. Not a single cloud can be seen in the sky and the sun bathes you in a warm and comfortable light. You have snuck out of camp early this morning to head to your practice shooting spot.

Only this time you're not here with a gun, but with the time traveling device from Francis. The copper sparkles in the sunlight as you fidget with it around in your hand and you replay yesterday's events infront of your inner eye.

So the mission is finished now. Arthur is saved and won't die from tuberculosis. This means you've succeeded and it is time to return to your home, to your time.

But for some reason you can't shake off the feeling that this is horribly wrong. Maybe you have spend too much time amongst the outlaws and have gotten too used to this life. Even though it has been only a couple of months.

As you lean your head back to look up at the clear sky, you try to remind yourself of the life you have back in 1934. The friends and family. All of that seems like a distant dream as if they have never existed in the first place.

Fantastic. You've really outdone yourself this time.

Why can't you simply unscrew the lid and press the button? What's holding you back? A thousand questions rush through your mind, but you can't find an answer for any of them.

Well, it's not answers that pop up in your head, but rather mental images of the gang accompanied with the sounds and smells of the camp. Without realizing it you begin to hum one of the soft tunes Javier often plays on his guitar and if you focus enough you could hear Karen's hearty laughter as if she's right here with you.

"I knew you was a bad shot, but I didn't think you'd actually practice without a gun.", you hear Arthur's voice call out to you as he approaches with his horse. Quickly you store the small device inside your summer coat.

You lift your head to meet his gaze and he rests his hands on his weapon belt while he strolls over to you. His black hat is sitting deep in his face and he goes to rest on the rock beside you.

"Sadie told me that you lost your revolver so uh..."

The outlaw rummages in his satchel before taking out a Schofield Revolver and holding it out to you. Carefully you take it into your own hand and study it with widened eyes. "Are you giving this to me?"

"Yup. I wasn't usin' it and it would be a damn shame to have it just lyin' around. It's a fine gun."

With a wide smile, you lower the revolver and look at him. "Thank you, Arthur. This is very kind of you."

"Ah, it's nothin'", he answers and waves it off with his hand.

As a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, you take the time to inspect the Schofeld a bit closer. It's grip is made out of a smooth, dark wood and the barrel is a standard iron. Maybe it could be nice to visit the gunsmith and request to get some engravings done on it.

Almost immediately you banish the thought. Why get it customized when you will be leaving soon anyways? You should have actually done that before Arthur arrived here. This will only make your departure more difficult.

"Have you decided what to do? Regarding the letter I mean.", you break the silence and he makes a thoughtful noise.

"I ain't sure what to do.", he answers with his blue eyes set on something in the distance. "I don't know if I wanna see her, but then again..."

"You're curious." The words come out more as a statement than a question and he nods.

"I guess so."

Your fingers trace over the outlines of the gun one more time before you securely store it away and turn your head towards Arthur.

"If you don't want to do it alone then I can come with you.", you offer and he scratches his cheek as he contemplates it.

"This ain't your burden to carry.", he says with a sigh and softly shakes his head.

Your hand finds his arm and you fingers give it a light squeeze. "You're my friend, Arthur. It's not a burden. Let me help you."

Before I leave you.

He turns to meet your gaze and runs his hand over his beard before he gives you a slow nod. "Okay. Yes."

A smile forms on your lips and you both stand up from the rock you're sitting on and hop onto his horse's back. None of you talk during the ride, but that's okay.

Arthur seems to be deep in his thoughts and you don't want to disturb him. As you ride along the road and feel the wind in your face and it's grip onto your clothes you can't help, but think more and more that leaving is a bad decision.

Is it really the wrong call or is it my own selfish heart saying that it is?

"How are ya holdin' up?" The sound of Arthur's voice rips you out of your mind palace.

Your eyes fall onto the arms you got wrapped around his torso and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I'm fine. I won't fall off or anything."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant with what happened with the O'Driscolls."

Oh, that. Now that he mentions it, you realize that you haven't given it much thought at all ever since they got you out of there. Too much has happened for you to stop and ask yourself how you're feeling about it all.

"I'm okay, I think.", you answer with a distant voice.

"I know it ain't much, but as you said we're friends. If ya need someone to talk to..." He doesn't finish the sentence, but it's not needed.

"Thank you, Arthur. It means a lot to me."

He grumbles a few words under his breath which you don't quite catch, but you assume it's something along the lines of 'it's nothing'. The usual.

It doesn't take long to get to the house the woman is staying at. Only now do you register that you've never found out her name.

"What's she called again? She never told me." Arthur jumps off his horse and gives you a hand to help you down.

"Mary. Mary Linton."

His eyes scan the house before you and you can tell that he's more than just nervous. You give his shoulder a soft squeeze and shoot him a reassuring smile. "I'll be right here if you need me."

The corner of his lips curls up ever so slightly and he slowly takes off his cowboy hat before approaching the house to knock. You're way out of ear shot and you try not to stare at the scene that's unfolding on the porch too much.

Still you can't help, but shoot a glance here and there towards their direction. The conversation doesn't seem like a heated discussion or argument, but it's obvious that both of them are having a hard time with this.

You distract yourself with Arthur's horse by giving it some pats and talking to it. "I wonder how it's going, hm?"

Then you hear steps approaching and you turn around to face Arthur who appears as if he just came out of a bar fight. No fists were flying during the conversation, but he still looks beaten up.

"So how'd it go?", you ask with raised eyebrows and he goes to check the satchels on his horse.

"I'll go get her brother." His voice sounds reluctant as if he'd rather do something else.

Your fingers brush briefly brush over his shoulder again. "I think you're doing the right thing."

Arthur mumbles a 'maybe' into his beard and then motions with his chin towards the house. As you follow his gaze you notice that Mary is still standing on the porch and she waves once you turn to her direction.

"She asks if you'd like to join her for a coffee while I get Jamie.", he tells you and you nod to yourself.

"Are you okay?" You voice is laced with a layer of concern which he waves off.

"I'm fine. I'll see ya later then."

That sounds way better than to just stand around here, waiting for Arthur to return or walk all the way back to camp by yourself. With a quick goodbye to the outlaw you jog towards the house and shoot Mary a smile. She returns it.

"It's good to see you again.", you say as she leads you inside into the kitchen and you sit down at the square wooden table in the middle.

Her back is turned to you while she prepares the coffee, but you can still imagine the distraught expression on her beautiful face. Either out of worry for her brother or because of Arthur, but it's also possible that it's both.

"I really didn't think he'd actually agree to help.", she breaks the silence and your raise a brow in surprise.

"I don't know. Arthur doesn't strike me as the type to let down a kid, because of personal grudges or such.", you answer and she takes the seat across of you while placing down the cups.

Hot steam is emanating from them and you wrap your hands around your mug, welcoming the warmth. Mary let's out a defeated sigh.

"He was never on good terms with my family. Not Jamie though. The boy did look up to him, but my father on the other hand..." The sentence trails off as if she's recalling an unpleasant memory.

Her eyes are fixed on a spot on the table and you awkwardly cough into your first. Shortly after she snaps out of her daze and let's out a flustered chuckle. "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to bother you with all this."

"No, it's okay.", you quickly chime in. "If you need an ear that listens then I'd be happy to lend you mine."

A grateful smile forms on her lips. "Thank you. You're very kind."

I'm not. I killed two men.

Staying silent, you take a careful sip from the coffee to not burn your tongue. It tastes so much better than the one in camp.

"Can I ask you something?", says Mary and you give her a nod. "Forgive me if I'm crossing any lines, but...are you working for Dutch then? Since you ride with the gang."

A thoughtful hum escapes your throat as you tilt your head to think. Are you working for him? He has never officially send you out for a job, but you have helped the girls and Arthur.

"I don't know. I guess I kinda do?" Your voice comes out unsure and you furrow your eyebrows. "I mainly help around in camp."

"So you're not an outlaw." She nods to herself while she makes the statement. You have no idea if you should agree with that to not.

I'm a thief and murderer.

The words leave an echo in your mind and you quickly try to shake them off. This isn't a path you want to go down just yet. Maybe you will never even attempt to follow it.

Mary buries her face in her hands for a moment before brushing some loose hairstrands out of her face. "I gotta pack my things. Arthur agreed to meet me at the train station after he brings Jamie back."

"Can I help you?", you ask and she shakes her head.

"It's not a lot. I'll be quick." With this she stands up from her chair and excuses herself before hurrying out of the kitchen.

You feel kind of exhausted now. The conversation has left you spiraling and dwell on things you were successfully avoiding before.

But fortunately you don't stay alone with your own thoughts for too long. Mary did right on her word when she said she'd be quick, because a short while later she comes down the stairs with a single bag.

The woman who owns the house agrees to give you two a ride to Valentine and so you make your way to the train station. The entire time you and Mary are absorbed in a conversation about her past.

You're learning a lot about Arthur. Maybe even too much. It feels kind of wrong to find out that much about him while he's absent.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your husband.", you say and a layer of sadness covers her soft features.

"Yes, it's been tough to say the least. I miss him everyday."

The two of you fall silent until you arrive at your destination and thank the woman who drove you. While Mary pays for the train tickets, you take a seat in the far corner of the station and look out of the window.

In the distance you spot a familiar horse with two people on it's back. Immediately you recognize Arthur and you assume that the younger man behind him must be Jamie.

"My boy! My sweet boy!", you hear Mary exclaim in relief after the two enter through the door.

With a delighted laugh she wraps her arms around her brother's neck and quickly inspects him for any injuries or bruises. You decide that it's for the best if you stay behind for this. The three of them share a history after all and you don't want to be the third wheel (as the fourth).

Arthur takes the bag from Mary's hand the small groups makes their way out onto the platform and your eyes follow them through one of the windows. Jamie and Mary jump onto the train and you notice how her hand lingers on Arthur's for a moment when she goes to take the bag from him.

She says some things to him while shaking her head and shortly after the train departs, leaving the outlaw standing there by himself. Seeing this stirs something within you and a voice in the back of your mind tells you, no screams at you to go out to him.

With unsure steps you walk towards the door that leads to the platform and push it open. You don't know if it's a good idea to talk to him now. Maybe he wants a moment to himself, but your legs move on their own.

And so does your hand when it reaches out for his upper arm. His muscles relax slightly under your touch and he puts his hat back on. It's more than obvious that some buried feelings and memories have resurfaced with all that's been going on today.

"How about we have a drink?", you suggest and he takes in a sharp breath through his nose.

"Sure.", is all he responds with, but it's still more than you've expected. At least he agrees to not deal with this completely alone.

Of course you didn't anticipate for him to sit down with you and have a whole therapy session. It's enough for you to let him know that you got his back.

Together you make your way towards the smaller saloon of the two which is close to the church. You assume he doesn't want to visit the big one anymore after all the trouble he has stirred up with beating a man crippled and let's not forget about all the problems him and Lenny have caused that one night.

"Have ya thought 'bout gettin' your own horse?", he speaks up and you give him a puzzled look. "Charles told me how you stole his."

An offended gasp escapes you. "I did no such thing!"

Arthur lifts his hands as he cackles. "Alright maybe he didn't use these exact words, but ya still need one."

He isn't wrong. It has become quite tiring having to prepare a wagon or asking someone to borrow their horse for the smallest of errands. Things would be so much easier if you'd just get your own, but you have no clue how to pick out the right one.

Besides it doesn't matter anymore. You will leave soon anyways. Arthur pushes open the door for you and you nod as thanks as you pass him. That's when you spot Dutch and Strauss sitting together at a round table on the whole other side.

"Ah! Join us!", the leader calls out to you. "I was just talking to Herr Strauss over here."

"I'm just worried, Mr. Van Der Linde.", the Austrian begins and Dutch lifts his hand.

"Don't worry, my friend. I got it all covered."

Strauss' expression makes it clear that he's not quite convinced, but he does not protest. With a nod the old man gets up from his chair and leaves the saloon.

"What was that all about?", asks Arthur and Dutch waves his hand around the air.

"It's nothin'-"

"Mr. Van Der Linde!", someone yells outside and the three of you share strange looks. "You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!"

Arthur and Dutch push their backs against the wall and take a peek through the windows. Your own mind is filled with questions. Robbing him? Could this be...?

"Cornwall.", you mumble with low voice and Dutch locks eyes with you.

"I think you might be right."

No one says anything for a long time until Arthur hisses a curse under his breath and motion towards the window. "They got John and Strauss."

Is this it? Did you save the outlaw just for the two of you to die in this saloon in a town no one has ever heard of? You're so occupied with imagining every possible scenario that ends with your imminent death that you don't even pay attention to what the two men infront of you are talking about.

They slowly make their way towards the exit and as you try to follow them, Arthur pushes his hand forward to stop you. "Stay here. We'll deal with it and then I'll come get you."

The tone in his voice is absolute and he makes it clear that he won't accept any protests from you. He's right and you know it. With your inexperience you'd be more hindrance than help so you nod and keep low.

While the two men head out, you stay behind and press your back against the wall next to the front door. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears that you barely understand a word Dutch is saying out there.

One moment he's talking about a misunderstanding and the next you hear shots being fired followed by agonizing screams. Fear and worry grips you as you fight to stay in place. Everything within you is demanding to step out and help the others.

After what feels like forever Arthur's head peeks through the opened crack of the door and he waves you out of the saloon. Lifeless bodies are scattered across the street and you avoid looking at then.

"We need to leave! Now!", Dutch calls and the moment he finishes, a bullet dashes past your face. Too close for your taste.

Quickly you rush towards the others and take cover behind a pile of wooden boxes. As you look around you note with relief that the others from the gang look fine. No one got shot.

Strauss is cowering behind a wall with his arms over his head while Arthur, Dutch and John have their guns out. You wonder when John got here, but that's something you shouldn't occupy yourself with right now.

Bullets are raining from all sides and you take out the Schofield Arthur has given you. You don't expect having to join the fight, but you still want to be ready just in case.

Suddenly a distressed shriek cuts through the air and you turn your head towards the source. Strauss falls to the ground, holding his leg with both hands and you run towards him to help him up.

A heartbeat later John is by his other side and together you get the Austrian to Arthur and Dutch.

"Get him onto a wagon. You two push him towards the horses and Arthur and I will hold these morons back.", Dutch orders and everyone immediately gets to work.

With all your might you push the wagon Strauss is laying on together with John. It's a struggle to ignore the projectiles flying around your head while putting all your strength into getting yourself and the injured man to safety.

A bullet hits the wagon only inches away from your face and sends splinters flying around. Sharp pain explodes on your cheek and you carefully touch the spot with your fingertips.

As you inspect the bright red liquid on your hand another shot lands close to the first one and you instinctively duck. While muttering a several curses under your breath you spit out some of the blood that has run into your mouth.

"You doin' okay?", you hear Arthur yell over the chaos and you shout back a 'yes'.

I'm doing just fantastic.

Once you arrive at the horses John hoists Strauss onto the back of his while Dutch tells you to jump on his own horse. You don't quite hear what him and Arthur are exchanging, but by the looks of it it's that the outlaw stays behind to keep the men busy while you all ride back to camp.

The thought alone is enough to make your stomach turn upside down, but you know there's not much you can do. As much as you'd like to stay and fight by his side, you're aware that it would make thinks unnecessarily difficult for him.

For a brief moment you lock eyes with him and you hope that the look on your face brings the message across.

Stay safe.

He gives you no indication that he understands what you're trying to communicate. Either way, Dutch is already sitting infront of you in his saddle and signaling his white stallion to start galloping.

You throw one last look over your shoulder before Arthur disappears into the distance and you're left hoping and praying for his safe return.

Chapter Text

Everyone in camp is on high alert and doing their best to pack up everything as fast as possible. No matter how much you keep yourself busy by putting as much on your plate as you can, you're still unable to shake off the concern you feel for Arthur.

It's nibbling at you, feeding on your anxiety and you catch yourself listening for the familiar sound of hooves approach or looking out for a flash of black from his hat between the trees. Something dawns on you then.

I could leave during this commotion.

Not a single person would notice and you'd even bet money on that. A strange mix of guilt and betrayal spreads in your chest for just considering that option though and you shake your head. This is bad. Really bad.

-

"I'm just worried that it might get to you.", Francis comments and you wave it off.

"What? Are you worried that I might find out how amazing of an outlaw I am?", you tease with your lips curled up into a smirk.

The red head shakes his head in both amused disbelief and frustration. "No, but think about it. You will live with these people, possibly even befriend them. Leaving them behind could proof to be difficult."

His words make sense, but you're not too concerned about it. Arthur Morgan is the only person you have to build up an at least decent relationship with and besides, you highly doubt that you'll manage to properly befriend anyone there.

They're all criminals and you're not. These are two different worlds.

-

I'm a criminal like them now.

It doesn't happen everytime, but every now and then when you close your eyes you see the faces of the two men you killed. One a contorted mask in terror and shock from above and the other a cruel, bloody pool from below.

It's haunting to say the least.

"Arthur! Have you been followed?", you hear Dutch call out and you quickly turn on your heels to get a better look at the man who you've been so worried about this entire time.

His clothes are dirty and he's panting heavily, but you can't see any injuries on him. Not even a speck of blood on his shirt or pants. That's a good sign.

Unfortunately he's not staying for long, because Dutch almost immediately sends him away with Charles to check out a potential spot to set up a new camp. Someone pushes you harshly from behind and you let out a startled yelp.

"Move it! We ain't got time!" Miss Grimshaw's scolding puts you right back to work and you completely forget about the fact that your departure is long overdue.

---

The spot Arthur and Charles have found for the gang is directly by a river and close to a town called Rhodes. You remember reading the name in the journal and recall two families living nearby.

If your memory can be trusted then they're supposed to have some serious feud or so. It would be smart not to get too involved, but you never know with Dutch.

Together with Sean, Karen and Lenny you sit at a table and listen to the Irishman boast about that one trainjob back in New Hanover, the one where you helped steal the oil wagon. How many times has he talked about that now?

"And then that gobshite hit me on the head, but that didn't faze me at all!", he proudly exclaims while puffing out his chest a bit and you fight back an eye roll.

Even Karen who is usually glued to his lips seems a bit indifferent towards the tale. Lenny on the other hand looks quite troubled as if something is weighing heavily on his mind.

"Sean! How about you stop fucking around and instead lend me a hand!", Bill yells over the entire camp and earns himself an annoyed grunt from the red head.

"If you'll excuse me. I have important business to attend to." With these words Sean leaves the table and you shake your head once he turns away.

"I wonder how often he will talk about that.", you comment and get a rather hasty nod from Karen.

Shortly after she gets up from her seat as well. It's her turn to stand guard at the edge of camp. So now it's just you and Lenny and you decide to investigate what's been bothering him so much.

"You okay?", you ask and furrow your eyebrows in concern. The young man let's out an aggravated sigh and scratches the back of his neck.

"I don't know. Sean keeps bragging about all the money he brings in and I guess I feel like I'm not contributing enough.", he hesitantly admits and you place your hand on his shoulder.

As you two lock eyes, you give him a soft squeeze. "Don't take everything he says so seriously. You've heard what Arthur said about the train job."

The outlaw wouldn't shut up about how much Sean was overwhelmed with the task of checking the baggage wagon. He still mentions it regularly, because it gets such a rise out of the Irishman.

"You're right, but I still feel so...I don't know."

You pull your hand away and give him a reassuring smile. "Don't see this as a competition. Everyone knows how much you're doing for the gang."

"Maybe, but it would still be nice to have something to show to the others, you know?", he says and you nod.

Of course you know. That's the whole reason why you decided to learn how to steal from people. Now that you think of it you should maybe also focus on bringing some money in again.

The few dollar bills from that one guy from Valentine definitely aren't enough. Sure, you helped with the oil wagon, but got yourself kidnapped right afterwards and you feel like that overshadowed your accomplishment with how much effort they had to put into your rescue.

"How about we head into Rhodes and talk to the people? To look for a lead, I mean.", you suggest and Lenny's lips curl up into a wide grin.

"Sounds good!"

Together you ride on his horse towards the nearby town and he hitches it outside the post office. There you split up and he heads deeper into Rhodes while you decide to pay the saloon a visit.

With your newly acquired experience in scamming people, you slip into your charm and head straight to the bar to order a drink. As you still try to decide which role to play as and the bartender pours you a whisky, you overhear a conversation at the table next to you.

"They're gonna send me out to Saint Denis to drive this bank coach.", a man says in an almost hushed voice and you throw a quick look in his direction. Two men are sitting across from each other and slightly bend over the table.

How very secretive.

Casually you sip at your drink and pretend to admire the many different bottles behind the bar counter while you focus all your attention to the conversation. If there's anything you've learned so far then it's that bank coaches are a promising steal.

"But you won't drive alone right?", the other man asks.

"Of course not, you moron. Yes, this shithole is a backwater place, but that thing will be loaded with money. Only a fool would make this a one-man job."

You linger a bit longer at the bar with the hope of finding out the exact number of guards that will be assigned to this coach. They might even spill when and where the coach will pass.

Perhaps you should stroll over and make yourself acquainted with them? There is a chance that the guy will even tell you all that himself if you get him drunk enough.

In one go, you finish the glass infront of you and brush your fingers over the right pocket of your coat. The light bulge of the Schofield inside gives you a sense of comfort, especially now that you've gotten so much better at shooting.

And especially now that you're a bit less scared of using it against a person as well. Quickly you fix up your appearance a little and confidently saunter over to the table.

"Hey, boys.", you say in a sultry voice and curl up your lips into the sweetest smile you can muster up.

Both of them give you their attention pretty much immediately and you tilt your head in innocent curiosity. "Do you mind if I join you for a drink or two?"

"No, ma'am! N-not at all!", the coach driver says and hastily pulls out a chair for you.

Now let's get to work.

---

By the time you're done faking your interested, getting both men absolutely hammered and squeezing them of every last drop of information, the sun is beginning to set. These guys would probably sell out their own mother over a few drinks and attention from a pretty lady.

The sunlight from outside is drowning the interior of the saloon in a warm, orange hue and you feel your eyelids growing heavy from both providing entertainment and drinking.

Much to your relief you see, in the corner of your eye, Lenny push open the front door and you wave at him. His face lights up the moment his eyes fall on you which is a vast contrast to the two men you're still sitting with.

As they notice you lock eyes with the young man, their features darken as if they've just received bad news.

"Who is this boy?", one of them mumbles irritated and you stand up from your chair.

Even though you have made sure not to drink too much to keep a clear mind, the alcohol still gets to you. You should have definitely eaten something before heading into town, but alas.

"He is my ride home. Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me."

Just as you're about to walk away, one of the men grabs you by the wrist and gives you a sickening grin, one you've seen before not too long ago. Mental images of the O'Driscoll boys who have abducted you flash before your inner eye and you feel something strange boil up inside your chest.

"Aw you can't just leave like that, miss.", he says in a feigned nice tone and his eyes roam over your figure.

The wide grin on his face reveals a set of yellow, crooked teeth and the stench of alcohol hits you in the face like a freight train. You give your hand a light tug, but his grip on you is tight. He isn't intending to let you go so easily.

He says something else, but you're unable to hear what it is. The blood rushing through your ears drowns it out completely and it's as if someone has put a veil over your head.

Your body is on autopilot and with your free hand you fish out the Schofield from your pocket and point the other end of the barrel right at his forehead. His eyes go wide in shock and he quickly lifts his hands up, letting you go in the process.

"I was just jokin', miss.", you hear him say, but it sounds like he's talking to you from another room. His voice is so far away.

That's also when you feel Lenny's hand gently tugging at your arm and you blink a couple times after you snap out of the weird trance. Everyone in the saloon has their head turned in your direction and they're all staring you down.

Some of the faces reveal fear and others carry an unspoken warning with them. Without saying another word you lower the revolver and let Lenny drag you out of the building in the direction of his horse.

"It's a bit early to make enemies, wouldn't you agree?", he says and you brush your hair out of your face.

"I'm sorry.", you mumble and he give you a quick look which you can't quite decipher.

"What was that just now?", he asks and you shake your head.

Indeed, what was that? You're not sure if you can quite explain it yourself. "No idea."

Thankfully he doesn't question you any further and you ride back to camp in awkward silence. After a while you clear your throat.

"So got any interesting leads?" Your attempt to lighten up the mood is pathetic, but he doesn't comment on it.

"Some feller told me about this place, Shady Belle. Apparently there are some good weapons and money."

You nod. "Worth stealing."

"My thoughts exactly.", he answers as you two reach the camp. "I just need to figure out who I could bring with me. I was thinkin' about Arthur maybe."

That's a good choice and the two of them get along so well with each other. When you found out about the bank coach you were also playing with the thought of bringing Arthur on board as well, but you're not sure if he'd want you there.

It still seems like he doesn't quite trust you with big jobs just yet. Especially not after the whole ordeal with the O'Driscolls. While Lenny hitches the horse you tell him about your own findings and he gives you an impressed look.

"That's a good lead, actually.", he admits and you throw your hands in the air.

"Thank you! I just have to figure out what to do next." It's no secret and no surprise to anyone that you lack the knowledge or experience regarding robberies like this.

Or well, robberies in general and you desperately want to change that.

Why? I will be leaving soon anyways. I should have left already.

But it doesn't hurt to extend the stay a bit. Right?

I might have saved Arthur from tuberculosis, but that could have changed the timeline and now something else could kill him.

Exactly. You're only staying here for now to make sure that nothing else happens to him. That's a good reason and you're doing a good thing.

Lenny rips you out of your inner monolog. "If you need help you can always come to me. I might not have been long in this business, but I know a thing or two."

His joke earns him a laugh from you and you give his shoulder a friendly pat. "Thank you. I'll remember that."

With that you part your ways and you make your way closer to the river. There's a log you can sit down on and you sweep the sand off it before you take the seat. You replay the events from the saloon in your mind as you stare out towards the almost still water.

You still can't explained what might have happened there. Perhaps it was your survival instinct that kicked in? Possibly.

A sigh escapes your throat and you feel someone rest down right next to you. Arthur holds out a cup of coffee and you murmur a quick 'thank you' before taking it.

Not everyone in 1899 seems to know of hygiene and you obviously didn't expect for people to smell like roses when you traveled back here, but there's something about Arthur's scent that you really like.

It's not like he takes a bath everyday, but he doesn't smell bad at all. Whenever he's near you, an aroma that reminds you of the forest after heavy rain fills your nose with an undertone of cigarette smoke.

Is it weird that you know exactly how to describe his scent like that? No, you're just a very perceptive person. That's all.

"I like this place. If I ever decide to look for land to own myself I should send you and Charles to search for it. The sight of you two could even give me a nice discount.", you break the silence and he let's out a cackle.

"Will we get compensation for our hard work?", he asks with an eyebrow raised in amusement and you pretend to think.

You tap your finger against your chin in a thoughtful manner. "I'll let you live in the barn. If the land comes with a barn, that is."

"How mighty kind of you."

Your lips curls up into a sly smirk. "I'm nothing, but kind, Mr. Morgan."

He throws his head back and let's out a hearty laugh. "I believe that you're spending too much time with Mrs. Adler to be saying that. I fear the woman might be rubbing off on you."

The conversation goes on with him telling you about his shopping trip with Sadie and you regret not joining them. Sure, you had fun with Lenny too and you love spending time with the boy, but you would have preferred pretty much anything else over the company of the two drunken morons from the saloon.

"It sounds like you did good with defendin' yourself.", the outlaw says and you simply shrug.

"I don't know. I feel bad, considering Dutch told us not to cause any trouble here.", you answer which he waves off in a matter of fact way.

"I'd rather you go threaten folk than gettin' snatched away again. Besides, how much worse can it get than a shoppin' trip with Sadie?"

That's true. You might have held a man at gunpoint today, but Sadie was still the one who fired. The thought gives you some comfort and you nudge Arthur's shoulder playfully with yours. "Thanks. I feel much better now."

"Always a pleasure."

You sit there in silence for a while and finish the coffee. "Got any plans for tomorrow?", you ask and try to mask the anticipation in your voice.

All that is on your agenda tomorrow is doing chores around the camp and you don't particularly feel excited about it. Not after having such a fun day out in the field with Lenny.

"Dutch wants me to find out more about this Gray family so looks like I'll pay 'em a visit.", he answers and your eyes fall on the empty cup you're holding.

You swirl around the little bit of leftover coffee. "Can I come with you?"

Arthur seems to think for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not?"

His response makes your eyes go slightly wide in surprise and he give you a puzzled look for that. "What?"

"It's uh nothing. I just didn't expect for you to say yes so easily.", you answer. It's true. Last time with the oil wagon you had to come up with a step by step plan to convince him.

"I'll just do some talkin'. Nothin' dangerous and I guess it would look a whole less suspicious if I got a lady with me."

That makes sense. The outlaw has something rather threatening about him with his broad shoulders and the constant frown that seems to be glued onto his face. A smile begins to form on your lips.

"Perfect then! Will we dress up? Pretend to be someone else? Oh, do you want me to work on background stories for us?"

The more questions leave you the less excited he looks and he raises both hands to stop you from continuing.

"None of that please. I'll come up with a plan tomorrow mornin' and you just...try to keep ya head. Don't want another woman shootin' up the place again."

Yes, that sounds good. The last thing you want to do is make him believe that he can't let you join during his jobs ever again. You want to proof that you can handle yourself just fine and then hopefully Dutch will start sending you out too.

That bank coach might just be the prime opportunity to show that. Only thing missing is a helping hand and you got just the right person in mind.

Chapter Text

"You good to go?", Arthur asks as he approaches the table you're sitting at.

A smile begins to spread on your face and you stand up from your chair. "Of course."

It's almost noon and the sun is burning into your neck, but you barely feel it. Today you will finally go out with Arthur again and you're convinced that nothing is going to be able to dampen your excitement.

He extends his hand to help you get atop of his horse after he hoists himself onto the saddle himself.

"Got your gun with you?", he asks and even though you know that it never leaves your pocket, your hand still moves to your side to check it.

"Yup."

Arthur nods. "Keep it tucked away. I don't want folk to get the wrong idea."

That sounds reasonable. He's made it clear yesterday that this won't be a job where you'd have to resort to violence. It's a relief, really. Yes, you're starting to feel more comfortable with the thought of firing your revolver, but it doesn't mean you're particularly enjoying it.

"So what's the plan?" You remember him telling you that he would come up with one this morning.

There is a hope in you that he might have possibly changed his mind about playing a bit of dress-up and pretending, but you know that the chances aren't good.

"We'll just say that we're lookin' to learn more about the rich history of this land 'round here.", he answers and you try your best to mask your disappointment.

"Alright.", you answer and he throws you a quick look over his shoulder before focusing on the road again.

"You sound disappointment.", he comments and you bite back a sigh.

Disappointed doesn't even remotely come close to what you're feeling right now. Crushed would be more appropriate (and more dramatic). "No, I'm fine."

Even though you sound anything but fine he still doesn't question you any further. Perhaps it's to respect boundaries or perhaps he doesn't want to get deeper into the whole dress-up topic. It's probably the latter of those two.

That's when you notice that the Gray residency isn't too far away from camp. In fact it doesn't even take 15 minutes until you arrive and Arthur slows down into a trot.

As you come closer to what seems to be the main house, two guards at the front stop you. Both of them are heavily armed with rifles and grip them a tad tighter when their eyes fall on you.

"What do you want?", the one on the right asks and takes a couple steps closer.

He sizes you two up through narrowed eyes and with a suspicious glare. What a warm welcome.

"My wife and I are history enthusiasts and would like to learn more about this land. We've been told-" Before Arthur can even finish his sentence, the guard who had stepped closer raises his hand in an irritated manner.

"I've heard enough. You'd like to talk to Master Beau regardin' that.", he answers and walks back to his post. "He's near the stables on the left."

Arthur thanks the man and together you start going into the direction he has pointed towards.

"My wife and I are history enthusiasts.", you repeat, dropping your voice to sound lower and imitating Arthur's deep southern drawl. "We're so interested in in history."

"Real funny.", he answers, dragging out the first word and with his tone oozing with sarcasm.

Then you spot a young man leaning against the wall, completely engrossed in his book. Arthur and you get off the Tennessee Walker and make your way towards the man.

"I see you at the Sheriff's office?", the outlaw calls out and the young man's head snaps up. You give Arthur a quick puzzled look. Whatever happened to the history enthusiasts you were pretending to be?

"Excuse me, friend.", the young man answers and puts his book down on one of the crates.

Arthur takes his usual stance where he places his hands on his weapon belt and eyes the young man thoroughly. "We friends?"

The energy he's giving off now is a vast contrast to earlier when he talked to the guards. There he was almost trying to appear small, but that facade is off now.

You assume that it would be smart to match his sudden change of mannerism and so you straighten your back and keep your chin high. Does it look convincing and threatening? Ah, it seems as if the young man hasn't quite noticed you just yet so it doesn't really matter.

"Not yet, but here's hoping.", he tells Arthur and curls his lips up into a smile. "We don't get a lot of traveling men here. Then suddenly there's a whole phalanx of mysterious, but strangely helpful Yankees about the place."

His wording makes you raise both eyebrows slightly. It doesn't sound like how the rest of his family talks or how anyone else in this area talks, for that matter.

Arthur scratches his cheek. "Is there?", he responds in a casual way.

"What are you doing here?" The question isn't accompanied by a wary or alerted tone, but more genuine curiosity.

Lately it's been a rare sight to meet someone who doesn't immediately assume the worst about you and you're starting to like the man for that.

Arthur looks back at you for a brief moment before answering. "We're just lookin' for work."

For the first time since you've arrived here the man's eyes fall on you and he gives you a friendly nod. "Well, lookin' for something. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"What secret?", you chime in and thankfully manage to hide the concern in your voice. Does that means he knows who you guys truly are?

But the young man completely ignores your question and his entire face lights up instantly. "I've got a secret of my own."

"Are you secretly normal?", Arthur asks bluntly, earning a snort from you. You catch him attempting to hide his half smirk with his cowboy hat by looking down.

"The thing is, I don't care if you kill the whole lot of us and the Braithwaites."

"We don't want to kill anyone.", you assure the man even though he doesn't look worried at all. It doesn't feel like he needs to be reassured, but you still don't want to leave it unsaid.

"I love her, you know?"

"Love who?", Arthur asks rather aggravated.

Though you do have to agree that it's quite difficult to follow this conversation with the way the young Gray jumps from one topic to another like it's a skipping rope.

"Penelope.", he answers in a dreamy way as if he just told you the meaning of life. "But it's impossible."

Of course. A Romeo and Juliet themed love story was bound to happen with the way these two families hate each other. It's almost mandatory for every blood feud.

"She's a Braithwaite.", he continues on. "I'm Beau Gray, son of Tavish Gray, nephew of Leigh Gray the sheriff, grandson of old Murdo Gray."

It's not anything you were aiming for, but now you know the whole goddamn family tree. Arthur seems to share the same thought by the look he's giving you.

Your eyes follow Beau as he paces around like a caged tiger. Obviously the entire situation is making him more than frustrated and you understand.

"We Grays have been loyal to the state and murderers to the Braithwaites for so long now, no one can even quite explain why! Beyond blind loyalty and stupidity. I'm supposed to be loyal to some nonsense while she-"

The young Gray stops mid sentence and let's out a soft sigh. He tells you more about this Braithwaite, Penelope, calling her a woman of the future and praising her in high tones. It earns a gentle smile from you.

How refreshing it is to see that at least some of the younger generation don't see the point of continuing this senseless hatred and fighting.

"Well, I'm sorry for your predicament.", Arthur says and turns to leave, but Beau extends both hands in his direction.

"Would you help?" His voice is laced with desperation and he watches you two with pleading eyes.

"We don't wanna get involved in gang feuds. It seems unseemly", the outlaw answers on your behalf and you shoot him a rather offended look. You would like to hear what the young man has to say, but you understand that you also have to keep a low profile here.

Beau's response comes shooting out of him like a bullet. "I'll pay! I've got money! We Grays we've always got money. No brains, mind, but money."

Arthur and you change looks for a brief moment.

It's worth hearing him out now.

Judging by the expression on his face he seems to be thinking the exact same thing. Well, you haven't quite been as opposed to helping as the rugged outlaw has.

"In that case..."

The words don't even leave Arthur's mouth completely and Beau already jumps to hand him a letter and a small gift box. He explains how Penelope usually sits in a gazebo at the edge of the Braithwaite property.

Together you make your way back onto the horse and ride towards where the other family resides.

"Now we're caught up in this hillbilly version of Romeo and Juliet.", Arthur mutters under his breath, sounding more than a little frustrated.

It makes you chuckle. "I think it's cute."

"Good for you then. I for one don't like bein' some errand boy."

"Oh, don't think about it like that, Arthur. We're not just running some errands. We're helping a young couple in the name of love.", you respond with an amused smirk on your face and he shakes his head.

"I'd rather do it in the name of money like he promised us."

True. You can't imagine Arthur saying yes to this without the outcome involving a payment of some sort. That's not the case with you though. You're actually kind of excited to see where this goes.

"He said the guards aren't too friendly to strangers so I'll sneak in.", Arthur says as he stops outside the Braithwaite property and jumps off his horse.

"I can come with you.", you answer, but he raises his hand and shakes his head.

"Absolutely not. You'll wait here for me and at the first sign of trouble, I want you to run away."

The fact that he doesn't trust you with these things still frustrates and offends you. After what you've done to these two O'Driscolls you thought he wouldn't doubt you this much still.

It's futile to argue about it though and you know it so you silently watch Arthur jump over the white fence and vanish in the tobacco fields.

Yes, he told you to flee when something happens, but you're convinced that he's got this in the bag. Arthur might not be the sneakiest member in the gang, but he's a good enough hunter to stay undetected by humans.

Besides, if he actually would get into trouble and you'd get wind of it, you're convinced that you couldn't leave him. Knowing you, you'd most likely run head first into the fight.

As you're leaning with your back against a tree and playing with a flower you have picked from the ground, your mind starts to wander.

This is another fantastic opportunities to travel back home, but you're playing around again.

You shake your head in an attempt to get rid of these thoughts. There's no way you can just disappear in the middle of a job. Especially during one where you're with Arthur.

Excuses.

Much to your relief and luck, the rugged outlaw returns again before you could even begin to spiral once more. Quickly you notice that he has an even more annoyed expression on his face than he did after talking to Beau.

"Did it not go well?", you ask, concern thick in your voice.

"No, I met her and we talked, but she gave me another goddamn letter.", he answers through gritted teeth. "Come on. I want this to be over as soon as possible."

As you climb back onto his Tennessee Walker, you bite back a chuckle and overall remain silent during the ride. Yes, you could tease him relentlessly, but you decide to leave the man alone. For now.

You definitely won't show this much mercy once you get back in camp. Just imagining Sadie's face and laughter when you tell her about all this makes you grin to the point where your cheeks hurt.

When you arrive back at Beau's, he's in one of the stables and taking care of the horses. Arthur and you get off his and he leisurely strolls over the gate and leans against it with both arms.

"You got our money?"

Beau's arm shoots forward to place some dollar bills in Arthur's hand and he gives him a yearning look. "Did she send anything back."

"Yes.", the outlaw answers and the young man goes to push open the gate, but Arthur stops him. "But it'll cost ya."

The man's face falls and you give Arthur a stunned look. His eyes flicker towards you, noticing your disapproval and he let's out a defeated sigh before stepping away from the gate.

"Fine.", he grumbles into his beard and hands over Penelope's letter.

Beau's eyes fly over the words and his expression turns more mortified by the second. "This'll get her killed for sure."

This piques your interest and you turn to face him. "What is it?"

"Women's suffrage. 'Round here they don't even like men voting. They'd bring back the monarchy if given the chance. Progress is a dirty word in these parts unlike incest."

The last part now even has Arthur's attention and he furrows his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I don't wanna marry my cousin, Mathilda! I wanna marry Penelope, but they'll- they'll kill her at one of these rallies they're holdin'! They've done it before!"

Beau paces around, clearly upset at the situation and then he turns around on his heels to give you both another one of his pleading looks. "You gotta help!"

Before you can even open your mouth to answer, Arthur beats you to it. "No, we don't want no part of it."

"I'll pay! My family, we've still got some money!", Beau argues.

This time it's you who doesn't let the other speak up. Whether it's out of offense for being interrupted or because you feel the strong urge to help this man, you can't tell. "We'll do it."

Your gaze is set on Beau, completely avoiding whatever venom Arthur might be shooting at you through his blue eyes. Later when you two get back to camp, you'll probably get an earful for this, but right now you couldn't care less.

"Thank you! I knew you and your wife would understand!", Beau yells out and before any of you could correct him he's already on a horse. "Come on!"

The prospect of possibly joining the rally makes you excited. It dampens the thought that it could end in violence with the way Beau described the people around Rhodes.

In the distance you spot a large wagon and a group of women gathered next to it. They're all wearing a banner in which the vehicle itself is decorated with as well.

Beau practically flies off his horse the moment you all get there and you follow him on foot towards a young blonde woman. Her face both lights up and darkens when her eyes fall on the young Gray.

"Beau, what are you doing here?", she asks in disbelief and grabs both his hands with hers.

"Stopping you! You'll get yourself killed." His voice is laced with fear and desperation and upon hearing his words, she pulls away.

Her chin is set high as she steps back with a determined look on her face. "I'm prepared to die for the cause."

It sends a shiver down your spine and you feel something within you stir. If there was even a little bit of doubt inside you, then it had left for good. Now you're more than certain that you want to, no have to join this rally.

"You have to do something!", you hear Beau plead and Arthur let's out a grunt.

"Do what? Fight this mob? They'd eat me alive."

Without an ounce of hesitation you tap the blonde woman, who you assume is Penelope, on the shoulder and she faces you. "Arthur can drive the wagon. We'll join you."

"Excuse me?", you hear the outlaw call out to you and Penelope hastily walks towards the older woman who's giving a speech at the other end of the group.

Arthur places a firm hand on your shoulder makes you turn around towards him and opens his mouth for what you think is a scolding, but nothing leaves his lips when you two lock eyes.

None of you speak a single word, but at the same time it feels like plenty is being said. The anger in his face slowly fades away and so does his grip on your shoulder.

"You said you'd drive the wagon?" The older woman who was giving a speech up until now steps next to you.

Without his eyes ever leaving yours he answers. "Yes."

"Wonderful! Olive Calhoon.", she says and shakes his hand. "Normally I like to drive the wagon myself, but today I feel like a man joining us sends just the right message."

Your smile grows ever wider as everyone gets onto the wagon and you climb into the saddle of Arthur's Tennessee Walker. The horse knows you well enough by now to not cause any trouble and buck you off and you give him a soft pat.

As the wagon starts moving and the women begin to sing, you shoot Beau, who's riding beside you, a reassuring smile. He returns it, but it's clear that he's still worried.

"We're mothers, wives, housekeepers, and daughters! We cook the food and we fetch the water! Sing songs of freedom and glory be! Fair women on the mind, come join with me!"

Voices of women singing fill the air, making the people of Rhodes step out onto the street. They're all staring down the wagon with discontented faces and some of them even yelling, demanding for the rally to stop.

"You're disrupting the peace!", one of the bystanders calls out angrily, earning loud agreement from the others.

All that protesting doesn't seem to intimidate the women at all or stifle the energy they're putting into this. On the contrary, their voices grow even louder as if they're being cheered on instead.

It feels like electricity is coursing through you at the sight and you begin to join into the song as the wagon drives through the small town.

"They're gonna stop at the bank. Let's leave the horses in the back.", Beau rips you out of your bubble and you blink a few times before nodding. You had totally forgotten about the reason why you're here in the first place.

Without saying another word you follow the young man behind the bank and hastily make your way back to the group. Arthur is standing at the edge and you stop by his side while listening to Miss Calhoon.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! This is a great day for all of us!", she starts and you join in on the cheering.

You feel Arthur's gaze on you, but your eyes and ears are glued to the older woman who is standing at the top of the stairs. The wide smile on your lips never leaving your face.

Unfortunately you spot two nasty looking men in the corner of your eyes, walking straight towards Beau and you carefully watch them like a hawk.

One of them is big with a balding head and a thick mustache. "What the hell you doin' here, boy?"

"Hello, darlin' cousin.", Beau responds with a strained voice while his eyes are fixed on Miss Calhoon. He's doing his best to avoid looking at the men.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that!", mustache man spits as if he's got an insult thrown at him instead of a term of endearment.

The other man is slightly taller than the first one and a vast contrast with his full set of hair on his head. "What are ya doin' here?"

"Listenin', I suppose."

You nudge Arthur's shoulder and motion with your chin towards them. A single look is being exchanged between you, a silent message and together you push through the women to get to the young Gray.

"Weren't we just leavin'?", the outlaw calls out to Beau and you follow closely behind.

"Who are you?", mustache man asks through narrowed eyes.

Arthur gives him a long, stern look, but ignores his question. "Follow me through here.", he tells Beau.

The three of you walk around to the back and the young man tells you about a place where you could go to. It's an old battlefield no one visits anymore and it's apparently a good spot where his cousins won't be following you.

You sincerely hope that he's right with that. After all this you're not particularly in the mood for a fight.

"You know, I ain't voted before, but I'm kinda gettin' hot for votin' rights!", Arthur comments and you can't tell if it's meant as a joke or if he's being serious.

"I don't know if I should take you seriously, Mr. Morgan, but my cousins are my primary concern now. If anyone should know about Penelope and me..."

"Everyone knows about Penelope and you!", the outlaw yells and you nod along. "We know about Penelope and you and we been here all of ten minutes."

He's right. Beau might keep saying how important it is to keep his love a secret, but the signs really don't look too good if he tells every stranger he meets about it. Goddammit, he told Arthur and you about it before you could even grasp the chance to introduce yourselves after all.

Beau continues telling you once again how much his family hates the Braithwaites and that it's not any different the other way around. He even mentions a Catherine Braithwaite and her daughter, but Arthur shuts him down quickly.

"I ain't heard 'bout daughters. Only treasure.", he says and your small group stop by the spot Beau was mentioning earlier.

You get off the horses and the young mean rummages inside the satchels of his saddle.

"You know, you should leave. With Penelope.", you chime in and he let's out a longing sigh.

"I will once I have enough money. You see, my family has a lot of money, but I don't."

Arthur crosses his arms infront of his chest and chews on the inside of his cheek. "Is your family very rich?"

You almost cough at the bluntness of his question, but manage to compose yourself in time. This is the whole reason why you're here after all. To find out if these families really are sitting on a pile of money or if it's all just some horseshit.

"Yes I believe so, but they keep me out of the discussion.", Beau answers. "I have more of an artistic temperament so..."

"Is that what they call it?", the outlaw comments while looking away into the distance. You bite back a laugh.

Beau walks around his horse, handing a bundle of dollar bills to the outlaw. "I really love her. I do."

"Well, stick around and maybe you can die for her as well.", he answers casually while counting the money.

"I thought you were gonna make me feel better."

You place your hand on the young man's shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. "It will all turn out just fine."

Hearing your words makes him smile even though there is nothing backing them up. None of you know if it actually will turn out alright for the two unfortunate lovers, but you'd like to believe that it will.

Arthur's voice rips you out of your thoughts and you pull your hand away. "We gotta go now."

Beau says his farewells to you two and your gaze follows after him as he disappears into the distance.

"Wasn't this kind of nice?", you ask and a scoff leaves his throat.

"Nice? If you think runnin' around deliverin' some letters is nice then sure." He shakes his head in a disappointed manner. "And we still don't know for sure if this treasure everyone keeps talkin' about exists."

He hoists himself up onto his saddle and extends his hand out to you. As you take it, you give it a short squeeze and smile up at him. "Thank you."

Confusion spreads on his rough features and he pulls you up. "For what?"

"Bringing me with you and doing all this. I know you didn't want to join the rally or drive the wagon. I also wanted to apologize for that, you know? I understand that I put you on the spot back there and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

The horse starts walking in a leisure and comfortable pace and for the longest time you don't get an answer. You begin to fear that he might be angrier than you have initially expected.

"There's no need to apologize. I guess it was fun...in a way.", he mumbles into his beard.

It feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders and you sigh in relief. "So you're not mad at me?"

"'Course not."

Instinctively you wrap your arms a but tighter around his waist in a half-hug and it doesn't go unnoticed by you that he's not attempting to get away from your touch or even tensing up from it.

Sure, you didn't find out too much about the Gray family, but today was still a success in your book.

Chapter Text

"Are you interested in some money?", you ask leaning your hips against the edge of the table and your arms crossed infront of your chest.

Sadie looks up from the hunting knife she's fidgeting with and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "I'm listenin'."

"So there is this bank coach that will come from Saint Denis and will stop in Rhodes and I was thinking..." You leave the rest of the sentence unspoken and raise both eyebrows in anticipation.

The widow immediately understands what you're trying to say and her entire face lights up.

"Ya wanna rob a coach with me?" The way she voices the question makes it sound like you asked for her hand in marriage.

"Of course! I was thinking to get Karen on board as well."

Sadie nods. "That woman knows how to work a gun, alright. Do ya have a plan?"

You haven't worked out the fine details just yet, but a plan definitely exists. At first you had thought of being the distraction yourself since Sadie and Karen have more experience with shooting, but then you remembered that the driver knows you already. It was not a great first impression you had left on him either.

Sadie most likely wouldn't want to take on the role as a damsel in distress, so out of all three of you Karen is the best choice. Of course you had played with the thought of getting one of the men on board as well, but you want to try it without their help.

Thanks to the driver's much welcome cooperation back at the saloon you know almost the exact route the coach will take and how many guard will be posted. It's not a small number, but nothing overwhelming either.

They probably don't expect for people to bother looking into something that goes to such a backwater place like Rhodes. Granted, you don't anticipate to be bathing in riches after this job, but there is a faint chance that this could end up to be something huge.

Considering how rich the Grays and Braithwaites are rumored to be, this coach might very well be loaded with gold, jewels and all kinds of valuable stuff.

You recall telling Lenny that nothing about these jobs and such is a competition, but here you are, desperate to prove yourself to the others as if you're going to get a price or a medal or some shit. Unbelievable what the past few months have done to you.

One day you were going about your day to day life as a good and honest citizen and now you're finding yourself trying to outdo the other gang members by robbing a state bank. A sigh leaves your lips at that revelation.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me.", Sadie rips you out of your thoughts and you nod to yourself.

Of course she's fine with the lack of a backup plan. She's perfectly content with shooting her way out if you all manage to end up in trouble which is precisely why you want her with you.

Her unwavering confidence and unstaggering bravery is what will keep you grounded during the job. Your nerves are beginning to feel the pressure and Sadie is the sole pillar that is holding up your house of cards.

Hopefully it will get better over time. Hopefully you will get used to it some more after today and then it won't be such a struggle to keep a cool head.

Together you find Karen at her tent and explain the situation to her. As expected, she seems a tad less excited than the other woman.

"I love you. You know this.", she says directed at you. "But are you sure? Don't take this the wrong way, girl, I know you got thick skin, but I haven't seen you handle a gun yet."

"I understand and I won't be upset if you decide to stay here, but I want you to know that you can trust me. I can take care of myself just fine now. Ask Lenny.", you answer confidently.

The young man has seen you at the saloon. Even though the memory of you pulling out your Schofield is still kind of blurry in your mind, you're quite convinced that you had looked like a true outlaw when doing it.

If Karen goes to ask him about you and the events then he will answer in your favor and she knows that. That's why she's giving you that look right now. That look that tells you she's going to ride with you.

"Count me in. We'll show them men how it's done.", she exclaims with a wide smile and picks up her rifle that was tucked away under a blanket.

While the three of you get the horses ready, you go over the plan once more. Karen agreed to be the distraction and threw over a fitting outfit. Sadie and you will in the meantime join the coach from behind.

It sounds good, it sounds solid. You only hope that a fight won't break out. You've gotten a whole lot better at hitting the mark during your target practice, but you're not sure how well you will perform doing the same thing on horseback.

Quickly you shake these doubts off. It's no good to go into this with a negative attitude. This is your first job where you're taking the lead and you intend to do excellent work.

Much to your relief, the camp is quite deserted at the moment, so your departure isn't turning any heads. No one is wondering where you're going with all this suspicious amount of firearms.

"Ladies!", you call out from over your shoulder as you ride out. "How are we feeling?"

"Great!", Sadie yells and her voice really does sound like the part. It's oozing with excitement and anticipation and it fills you with confidence.

After finishing up the preparations, you had spread a map of Lemoyne on one of the tables and traced the rode the coach would take with your finger. It's not a long drive considering how close Saint Denis is, so you all agreed to stop them somewhere in the middle, away from civilization.

As you make your way to the spot, you try to clear your mind and tell yourself that it will all turn out just fine. You have two competent women by your side who you trust blindly with your life. They got your back and you got theirs.

After a while you and Sadie separate yourselves from Karen and take a left turn at an intersection. You two will wait up on a hill that oversees most of the road, so you will see the coach coming while Karen stays on the low ground.

She's somewhere hidden in the bushes and will come stumbling out to put on a show. Now you only need patience.

It doesn't take look for you to spot a carriage approaching in the distance. Judging by the single riders surrounding the vehicle, this must be your target. Sadie and you cover your faces under bandanas and wait silently.

None of you say a word to each other as the coach pulls closer and a familiar figure strolls out from between the shrubs. You watch the coach come to a halt and listen in on the conversation.

Karen is a fantastic actor. She almost has even you fooled and you're aware that it's only an act. The driver on the other hand seems less happy about the unforseen interruption and he yells.

Almost casually, you and Sadie approach the bank coach from behind and you reach into your pocket to grab the revolver. It clicks as you disable the safety and point the barrel at one of the guards.

"No one move!", you command in a stern tone. It comes to a surprise to you at how calm you sound.

You were a bit worried that your voice might betray you and you will end up sounding anything, but threatening. A sense of triumph fills your chest at that.

"Open the back of this coach or I'll blow your brains out!", Sadie roars menacingly and it sends a shiver down your spine. Every now and then you find yourself relieved that you can call this woman your friend and not your enemy.

There are four guards posted around the coach and all of them are heavily armed. Though so far it looks like none of them is planning to stir up any trouble. This is exactly what you wanted to achieve.

With Sadie and you closing in from behind, they won't only be unable to see you coming, but they also won't know how many of you there are. There is no way of telling if you're here with a small army or not.

The man she's pointing her rifle at slowly gets off the horse with both hands in the air and steadily makes his way to the back of the vehicle. You narrow your eyes as you watch him. Something doesn't sit right with you. He's taking too long.

As if you predicted it, the man suddenly turns around to face Sadie and readies his weapon. The woman is faster than him though and blows off his head without hesitation.

Blood splatters all over the walls of the coach and the shrill noise of her rifle startles not only you, but your horse too. It stands up on its back legs and you loose your balance.

With a yelp you come crashing down onto the dirt and gasp. The fall has knocked out all the air from your lungs and you're gathering all your strength to roll over and pull yourself back up on your feet.

Something roars right past you, only mere inches away from your head and you instinctively throw yourself behind the first rock. You hear Sadie and Karen yell profanities at the men and you sigh in relief. At least they're alive and well.

You dare a peek from behind the rock and spot one of the guards trying to sneak up to Sadie to catch her off-guard. Without thinking, you lift your revolver and recall Arthur's advice.

Once your lungs are empty, shoot.

You pull the trigger and the man falls down. He stays down and you force your attention somewhere else. You can feel your mind wanting to linger, wanting to contemplate your actions. A voice in the back of your head speaks up.

This is the third light now that you've extinguished.

All your senses are focused on the battle.

When will you stop?

Another shot falls from your gun and another person ends up in the dirt. Everything within you wants to go up and check if your shot was fatal or not, check if the man was alive and breathing. With all your might and willpower, you push against it and stay put.

It feels like only a few seconds have passed when the shooting comes to an end and you stand up with wobbly knees. Adrenaline is still rushing through your veins and the Schofield is trembling in your hand. You're gripping it so hard that the whites of your knuckles are showing.

Karen and Sadie also come out of their hiding spots and you all exchange looks. No one seems hurt and a great weight falls off your shoulders. This entire time your mind was racing with worry and now you have one less thing to be concerned about.

Sadie shoots the lock of the trunk open and you lift the lid. A strangled gasp escapes you as your eyes wander over the piles of cash. There must be at least a thousand dollars in here and you feel like you could sob from relief.

"I reckon this was quite a success.", Karen comments and you rub your hand over your forehead. A success indeed.

Quickly you all pick up the stacks and split it up between each other with majority of it meant for the camp funds. Sadie holds it out to you.

"You should be the one who gives it to Dutch.", she says, earning an approving hum from Karen.

A simple 'okay' is all you can manage at the moment and you stuff the money into an empty satchel you had brought. You all decide it would be better to split up and not go directly back to camp in case there were any witnesses you have failed to notice.

Taking a detour is a good opportunity to reflect over what happened, but you're not sure if you're quite ready for that. More people have died by your hand today and your chest feels heavy.

Oddly enough it's not as devastating as it was the first time when you wrestled with the O'Driscoll on the ground. Back then you felt like something had dragged you down right into hell, but now you feel different.

It's kind of dampened now. Still terrible, but definitely dampened. A pit forms in your stomach at the realization and you swallow a lump that is forming in your throat.

Am I getting used to it?

You signal for your horse to pick up on speed and focus on the wind whipping around your face. It pulls on your hair and clothes and makes your eyes tear up.

Maybe it's not the wind that's making you cry, but you don't want to think about it right now. A deep sigh leaves your lips and soon you find yourself back in camp.

As you hitch the borrowed horse, you notice that Sadie and Karen haven't made it back yet and you give the satchel with the money a light squeeze as if to make sure that it hasn't vanished into thin air on your way back. You make your way towards Dutch's tend and spot him talking to Hosea and Arthur.

The three men are so engrossed in their conversation that they don't notice you approaching and you clear your throat. Their heads turn to you and you suddenly find yourself shying away slightly.

Is there a specific way to hand over the money from a job? Mental images of you presenting the cash all ceremonial with a theatrical speech and down on one knee pop up in your mind and you stifle a snort.

"Can I help you?", Dutch rips you out of your thoughts and you awkwardly cough into your fist.

You hand over the satchel and watch him inspect the contents. Arthur throws in a curious glance as well and he immediately raises an eyebrow at your direction.

"What is this?", he asks and your lips curl up into a smirk. All awkwardness disappears from you and is being replaced by pride.

"I heard of a bank coach passing through from Saint Denis, so I took Karen and Sadie with me to see what it's all about.", you explain.

Dutch closes the satchel again as he nods, clearly pleased. "This is quite a sum. Well done, ladies."

Your grin grows ever wider and it feels like someone placed a crown on your head. It feels good to contribute.

"Did you run into any trouble?", Arthur asks and furrows his brows. His expression is a vast contrast to yours and you can't decipher what exactly it is that bothers him.

"The guards weren't exactly cooperative, but it was nothing we couldn't handle." Your voice is oozing with confidence. It's true that you three had it all under control. They didn't stand a chance.

The outlaw looks like he wants to say more, but he stays silent and so you excuse yourself to grab a bowl of stew. All day you haven't had anything to eat and with all the action and adrenaline you didn't even notice how starved you are up until now.

Your stomach produces a growl loud enough to make the citizens of Rhodes aware of your hunger and you find yourself a nice, quiet corner to eat at. Then a shadow falls over you and Arthur takes a seat across the table.

Silently you continue finishing your meal while he fidgets with his knife. It did seem like he was anything but excited to learn about your robbery, but all that has disappeared by now.

After a while he breaks the silence. "You did well with the coach."

"Thank you."

He clears his throat before speaking up again. "But next time you decide to do somethin' like that, bring me."

"I was thinking about it today, but I assumed you'd try to talk me out of it. I wanted to bring in some money myself, you know?", you explain and he nods along.

"I know, I know and you're right. I probably would have stopped you. It's not that I don't trust you." Something tells you that that's not quite the truth, but you bite your tongue. "I just don't want you and the other women to get hurt."

"Don't worry. Next time I plan a robbery, I'll bring you with me.", you say and the corners of your mouth curl up reassuringly.

He returns it with one of his half-smiles and motions with his hand towards your leather bag. "But now you got enough cash for a horse. Are you free tomorrow? 'Cause I could help ya look for one."

The smile on your lips turns into a smirk.

"I'm free, yes."

---

As the day is being replaced by the night and more and more people retreat to their tents, you slip into your sleeping garments as well. The flickering light of the campfire is the only source illuminating the camp and you swat away a mosquito that's been buzzing too close to your ear.

"Hey, got a moment?", you hear Sadie behind you and you turn around on your heels.

"Of course.", you answer, sitting down on your bedroll and patting the spot infront of you to signal her to sit down as well.

With a grunt she lowers herself to your level. "I wanted to say that I enjoyed riding with you today."

Her words earn a warm smile from you. "Me too."

"And I wanted to thank you.", she quickly adds. "You saved my life."

You recall the man who had tried to sneak up to her. The man you shot. The memory lingers for a few seconds before you shake your head to get rid of it.

"It's not a big deal. You would have done the same for me."

Sadie places her hand on your shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. The look in her brown eyes is something you can't quite discern, but it doesn't last for long and she stands up from her spot.

"I'll see ya tomorrow mornin' then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sadie.", you say in a hushed voice and watch her leave.

Chapter Text

As discussed, you find yourself together with Arthur at a stable near Rhodes and are currently looking at a variety of horses. There's not much you can say except that they all look gorgeous.

The outlaw who brought you here on his Tennessee Walker is engrossed in a conversation with the stable owner.

"We was thinkin' of somethin' strong.", Arthur says and the owner points at a particularly large one.

"We got a nice Shire right over here."

You inspect the horse a bit further. It looks absolutely stunning (they all do), but you're not so sure about that pick. "It's a bit big, don't you think?"

"Yes, you're right.", Arthur agrees and rubs his chin with his hand in a thoughtful manner.

"I see. You're lookin' for somethin' smaller then?", the owner asks and you both nod.

"Yea, a sturdy, but fast horse. Not too small of course.", Arthur adds and the man nods.

You and him had discussed what you were looking for before leaving camp this morning. Riding is something you're pretty familiar with by now, but you still don't feel confident enough to get a racing horse or anything like that.

Besides, Arthur had suggested for you to look into one more on the hefty side for the times when you get into trouble. It was a good argument.

"How about this Andalusian. She's young, muscular and listens well." The owner walks towards a medium-sized dark horse and gives her neck a good pat.

Yes, you liked the look of her ever since you walked into the building. You've had your eyes on her almost the entire time as if you knew that she's the one. Much to your relief even Arthur looks satisfied.

"It's a good war horse.", he tells you in a low voice and scratches his cheek. "How much is it?"

"$140. It's a good price for a fine girl like her."

That sum alone is way over your budget and let's not forget about the saddle you have to pay for as well. It breaks your heart knowing you have to settle for another horse when you've already grown so attached to the Andalusian.

"Do you have anything else?", you ask and try to mask your disappointment.

"Of course! How about that Kentucky Saddler over there?", he suggests while motioning with his chin behind you. "They're your standard riding horse. Nothin' special, but gets the job done."

The Kentucky Saddler is the smallest one in the stable in both height and muscle mass. It's definitely not your first (or second) choice, but that one has to do.

"How much?"

"Only $50. It's a steal, I'm tellin' ya, miss.", he says.

It's true. That price is perfect actually, because now you can afford a nice saddle. There is no need to settle for the cheapest one.

The same moment you open your mouth to declare your decision, Arthur chimes in. "We'll get the Andalusian."

Your eyes widen in horror as you face him. "What? Arthur, I don't have the money for that horse.", you hiss and he rummages through his satchel.

"Relax. I'll help you out with that."

He fishes out a stack of cash, more specifically the amount that is exceeding your budget and hands it over to the stable owner. The man let's out a satisfied hum after counting the money and his eyes fall on you.

Your gaze is still sternly set on Arthur as you pay for the rest. It's almost surreal that he just did that.

"I'll get the horse and papers ready for y'all." With that the owner scurries towards the back of the stable and you turn to Arthur.

"What were you thinking?"

"That's a strange way of thankin' a man.", he comments amused and you sigh.

"Of course I'm thankful, Arthur, but I don't want you to waste your money on me. At least not that much", you hiss and he waves it off.

"First of all, I got more than enough and second of all, you need a horse. I don't want you ridin' 'round with a scrawny thing like that one.", he says, pointing at the Kentucky Saddler. "What I want is a decent horse that won't only do it's job, but keep you safe durin' it as well."

His words shake you to your core and you simply stare at him without saying anything. At this point, you can't even begin to count the amount of times he has helped you. It's safe to say that you owe him a lot more than just money.

"She's ready now, miss." The owner hands you some documents and your eyes trail over the words before you nod.

After getting all this done and leaving the stables with Arthur, another question arises. What will you name her?

It's a war horse, so you're thinking about maybe choosing a goddess like Athena or Minerva, but that seems a bit...well, plain. Then suddenly a story comes to mind. The Tojan War more specifically and the Amazon Queen Penthesilea.

Granted, it's a long name and not one that rolls off your tongue easily like Minerva, but you like it. In the story, she died by Achilles' hand and yet he mourned her, because she admired her for her skill and bravery.

The more you contemplate it, the fonder you grow of the name and you give the Andalusian a soft pat. She's beautiful and now she's yours.

Riding her is easy as cake to say the least. It's hard to say if it's because of her nature or if you're having a better time steering and giving commands knowing it's your horse.

Throughout the entire ride home, you can't shake off the wide grin that is glued to your face and you hitch Penthesilea at one of the posts. At some point in the near future you'll have to come up with a nickname for when you call out to her.

Yelling the whole name is going to take too long and by the time you're done you might get shot or something. You don't like the prospect of ending up like Swiss cheese, because you decided to go a bit overboard with naming your horse.

"Thank you again, Arthur. This...I can't begin to explain how much it means to me.", you say to the outlaw and your voice is trembling slightly from how much his gesture moves you.

He places his hands on his weapon belt and kicks a pebble away. "It's nothin', really. I'm just glad that you got a horse that will keep ya safe, is all."

As much as he tries to hide it behind his broody facade, you don't fail to notice how bashful you're making him just now. His ears are turning slightly pink and he shields his face with his black hat while keeping his eyes on the ground.

Something within you wants to tease him for that, but you decide that it would be better to leave him be. If you get too much on his nerves about this now then he might stop helping you out like this all together.

As you make your way with him through the camp, you hear Bill call out to the man from the other side. Him, Karen and Lenny are standing together next to a wagon and the two of you walk over to them.

"We got somethin' cooking that you might be interested in.", Bill says.

Arthur looks anything but convinced by his statement. "Am I gonna like the sound of that?"

"Been cookin' since Horseshoe, but you went and kicked up all that commotion in Valentine.", Bill explains as he paces around. "Now we was preparin' to rob the bank there until you got involved in all that nonsense and I don't know...I feel like it's unfinished business!"

Arthur leans against the wagon and waves around with his hand. "That wasn't my fault. It was just one of them things."

After saying that, Bill throws up his hands in the air and glares daggers at the outlaw. "How come everytime I get in trouble, I'm called a fool and an idiot, but when you get it trouble then oh it's just one of them things."

"It's a good point, Arthur.", Lenny chimes in almost immediately and even Karen crosses her arms infront of her chest.

"A very good point.", she mumbles under her breath and the outlaw's eyes go wide.

His gaze searches for yours and his expression makes it clear that he's looking for support from you, but you shrug. "Hey, don't look at me like that. They're kinda right, you know."

Upon hearing that he gestures as if he's throwing away something and clicks his tongue in irritation. You bite back a chuckle and exchange amused looks with Lenny.

"Well, what do y'all want me to do?", Arthur asks rather offended and Karen let's out a deep sigh as if he just asked for the answer to 1+1.

"Hit the goddamn bank with us!", she yells in a matter of fact way, but the outlaw laughs dryly.

"You think it's worth goin' back there?" His question sounds more rhetoric than genuine.

"The five of us can hit the bank easy, but I ain't gonna lie to you. The law will be on us if we linger."

Arthur furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Five of us? Who else is comin'?"

All three of them look in your direction and you raise your brows in surprise. They want you to join? That makes you feel oddly touched to be honest. Now you know why Sadie reacted the way she did when you asked her to rob that coach with you.

You clear your throat to not have your voice betray your excitement. "I'd love to if you guys really want me there."

"Of course!", Karen exclaims, nudging your shoulder. "One of us goes in to create a distraction and the other stays outside. The men will look a lot less suspicious if they're waitin' with a woman."

That plan sounds solid actually. It makes sense and you nod. If you play your cards right then they might even let you go inside the bank to create a diversion. You've been wanting to improve your acting a bit.

Much to your relief, Arthur doesn't have anything to say against it. Granted, the look in his eyes is enough to tell you that he isn't quite in favor for it, but at least he doesn't voice it. It means he trusts you enough.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

"You mentioned the law.", Arthur speaks up again and Karen diverts her attention to him now.

"Nothin' serious, just local boys bein' rounded up and pressed into action. If we go in quick and quiet, we can hit it just fine.", she explains.

Lenny steps besides you and eyes you and Arthur up. "If there's five of us."

"And you guys think it's worth the risk?", you chime in.

There is no need for them to answer your question, because you were on board since they said they want you there, but you don't want to seem reckless. They don't have to believe that you're down to run head first into trouble just because they're including you in something.

It's the truth. That is happening right this moment, but still. They don't have to know.

"It's a bank.", Karen responds in a matter of fact way.

"But is the take good?", Arthur counters and you nod along. You already assume that it's more than good, but you want to show that you're thinking things through properly.

"According to the feller I met, yes. It's the end of the stock sales. Plenty of money and plenty of people millin' about."

Anticipation is hanging heavy in the air as the others await your final decision. Not that it's that difficult for you. "I'm in.", you say confidently.

A quick look in Arthur's direction tells you all you need to know. If there were any doubts in his mind then you got rid of them all with your answer. It makes you happy that your involvement is the tipping point for him.

"Alright.", the outlaw finally answers and the mood immediately lightens up.

It doesn't come as a surprise to you that they desperately want him in on this. If there's anything you've noticed during your time here then it's that when you bring Arthur with you to a job it's a guaranteed success.

"We should move in the mornin'. I'll just get out of these rags." Karen picks up a pile of clothes and hurries away.

With this the group splits up and you try to find something to keep you busy until tomorrow.

---

Even though you couldn't get any sleep last night, you feel refreshed and ready to take on the day. The excitement of the upcoming robbery is giving you all the energy you need and you meet up with the others at the hitching posts.

Karen is wearing a beautiful burgundy dress and the men seem to be all dressed in the exact same dark coat. No wonder they wanted another woman to tag along. They do look even more intimidating than usual.

This is also a great opportunity to take Penthesilea on a longer ride and bond with her. There is no other reason for you to leave camp except for paying Rhodes a visit, but that town isn't far away enough.

Getting to Valentine on the other hand is going to take half the day if not longer. You give your Andalusian an oatcake on which she happily munches on.

"Mr. Morgan!", you hear a familiar voice call out and you turn around to see Herr Strauss approaching the outlaw. "That man, the debtor, Thomas Downes. Apparently he's dead."

Dead?

"Dead? Huh. Well, he didnt seem very well.", Arthur mutters and scratches his cheek.

"His wife. I believe he has a wife and child. She will assume the debt of course.", the Austrian continues and Arthur nod.

"Of course."

"When you can, head up there and collect. We lent them a lot of money." With that Herr Strauss leaves and your group mount their horses.

Your mind wanders as you hoist yourself onto Penthesilea's back and follow the others onto the road outside of camp. It's strange that this Thomas Downes had died.

Yes, he didn't look too well last time you saw him, but well enough. Surely he would have lasted a few more weeks or even months. Maybe Arthur's threats had done more damage than you expected.

Whatever it is that cut the man's life short at the end, you know one thing for sure and that is that you want to be there when Arthur collects the debt. Obviously there is nothing to be worried about anymore with the sick man being gone and all, but you can't seem to shake off that uneasy feeling.

Something, a voice in the back of your mind, is telling you to join him when he goes there. It's hard to tell what exactly it is that's pulling you, but you simply have to listen to your gut.

Besides, you're wondering how Mr. Downes' family is holding up. They lost a loved one after all and perhaps your presence won't shake them up too much when Arthur throws around threats again.

Look at you trying to be a good person as if you don't have blood on your hands.

The ride to Valentine is being accompanied by casual chatter between the other gang members, but you're only listening with one ear. Jokes are being made and when the others laugh you join in. You don't want them to think that your head isn't in the game.

You banish your negative thoughts and try to focus on the task at hand. The bank robbery should be your main concern right now. Once that is done, then you can worry about the Downes family.

"We should leave the horses over here.", Bill rips you out of your thoughts and you get off your horses.

You give Penthesilea a soft pat before following the others around the corner towards the bank. They're discussing who should be send in as a distraction.

"I can go.", you offer, but Bill hesitates.

"She's good. Helped me steal an oil wagon once." Arthur's backup earns him a grateful smile from you.

That seems to be enough to convince Bill and he nods. "Alright then. We'll be right outside."

Before entering the bank, you fix up your collar and hair and straighten your skirt a bit. Rather dramatically, you swing the double door open and stroll in with a certain confidence as if you own the place.

Immediately all heads turn to your direction and a bunch of eyes stare you down. It makes you nervous, but there is no backing down now, so you gather all your courage.

As you pull out a white handkerchief, you wave it around for a second and point at the customers.

"Good afternoon to thee and thee and thee! May I present Madame Lupone's terpsichorean troupe of travelling thespians!", you declare in a rather ceremonial way and bow theatrically.

The customers share puzzled looks between one another and you take the opportunity to study each one of them a bit more thoroughly. By the looks of it there is only one guard posted.

A sweet smile forms on your lips as you lock eyes with the guard and pretend to rummage through the pockets of your coat. "You look like a man who'd be interested in what we have to offer!"

He lifts his hands as he makes his way towards you, shaking his head. "Lady, I don't think-"

You don't let him finish the sentence. A sickening crack can be heard as you ram the handle of your revolver straight into his face. The man let's out a mortified screech and blood splatters all over the tile floor.

Not even a heartbeat later, the others come crashing through the front door, pointing their guns and yelling orders. You too put the end of your barrel at the back of the guards head.

"On the floor. Now." Your voice comes out cold and controlled and the man follows your command without question.

Everything that follows after is smooth sailing. For you at least. While you, Lenny and Karen make sure the customers try nothing funny, Arthur and Bill seem to struggle a bit with the safes in the back.

The bank clerk's sobs can be heard all the way to where you're standing and you force your attention somewhere else.

"How's it goin' back there?", Karen yells over her shoulder.

"We're gonna have to crack open the safes!", comes Bill's response.

Hopefully they will be fast about it. You take a peek out through one of the large windows and spot a small group of men talking and looking over at the bank.

"Any minute now, boys!", you call out. "I see some movement outside!"

There is more chatter in the back and after what feels like an eternity, Bill and Arthur emerge again. Their bags look full and loaded and relief washes over you. Bill presses his back against the wall and takes a look outside.

"What exactly did you see?", he asks directed at you.

"There was a group. They were talking and looking at the bank. It doesn't have to mean anything, but you know...", you respond and he nods.

The men outside didn't look particularly alarmed or anything. They might have been discussing something entirely else as well. There are other building on this side of the street after all.

Karen moves closer to the door and steps outside. A few seconds later she enters the bank again. "I think we're fine. C'mon I'll lead the way."

Arthur leans closer to you and lowers his voice. "You good?"

Your nod seems to satisfy him and you move out with the others. Leisurely, you all make your way back to the horses until you spot, in the corner of your eyes, a group of lawmen storming into town on horseback.

A man shouts in the distance. "Somebody robbed the bank!"

You curse under your breath as you enter a full sprint and jump onto Penthesilea's back as fast as your skirt allows you to. Bullets fly around your head and you instinctively duck.

You signal your horse to start galloping and you follow the other gang members out of Valentine. How come that everytime you want to leave this godforsaken town, you do it under heavy fire? It's starting to get real frustrating.

Luckily, Penthesilea doesn't seem fazed by any of this at all. Not even when one of the bullets lands awfully close in the ground infront of her. You make a mental note to yourself to shower her in treats later today.

Without expecting to land any hits, you point your Schofield at the lawmen behind you and pull the trigger a couple times. There is no time to check if any of your shots landed, so you focus entirely on the other gang members.

They soon lead you off road and into a  familiar forest. Easily, you recognize the area and reckon that you must be close to Horseshoe Overlook. Thinking of that place brings up memories.

"I think we lost them.", Lenny comments and you let your gaze wander around.

He's right. It seems like you guys have shaken off the lawmen for now and you jump off your horse, panting. Pearls of sweat have formed on your forehead from the stress of the chase and you wipe them off with the back of your hand.

A relieved and breathless laugh escapes Karen. "Thank you, Gentlemen. That was-"

Arthur cuts her off as he opens his leather bag and inspects the contents. "Stupid and dangerous. Thank you, Bill."

"We're alive and paid! I don't see the problem.", the other man argues and Arthur hands everyone their share of the money.

"And that is the problem.", he comments.

It could have definitely ended a whole lot worse. In your book, you see this robbery as a success as well, but you decide to better leave that unspoken.

Your mouth almost falls open as you count the stack Arthur has given you and realize just how much you guys have stolen. With this amount you could easily buy a whole army of Penthesileas and have enough to equip them with the most luxurious saddles.

"But this is quite the take. Dutch'll be happy. Even if it did come with a heap of trouble.", Arthur says, flinging the leather bag far away into some shrubs.

"Ah, it was fun!", Karen argues and you're not quite sure if you could agree.

Sure, it came with a certain thrill that one can describe as fun, but to you personally it was more stressful than anything else. The constant fear of someone waltzing into the bank in the middle of it isn't something you're particularly fond of.

Having that sense of danger in the back of your mind is definitely a thing you'd have to get used to if you ever agree to join a bank heist again. Perhaps you should stick to coaches for now.

"Alright, there is other business I gotta attend to. Everyone, split up and do not head directly into camp!" Arthur hasn't even finished his sentence before everyone starts to run off. "And make sure you're not bein' followed!"

Now it's only the two of you and he lifts his eyebrows in slight surprise as his gaze falls on you. Seems like he thought that you had also taken off with the rest.

"I got this debt to collect 'round here. You don't have to wait up for me.", he mutters and mounts his horse.

"Let me come with you."

His expression turns sour and he let's out a long sigh. "Listen...I don't want you takin' this the wrong way, but I really don't need you there. Last time-"

He leaves the rest unspoken, but he doesn't need to say it anyways. You already know what he's trying to say. Last time he was at the Downes ranch you had stormed in and interrupted him in his work.

It's understandable that he wants to avoid this happening again, but there is also no need for you to stop him this time. Mr. Downes is dead. The danger is gone, as bad as that sounds.

"I won't do anything without you telling me so. Arthur, you've seen me back at the bank. I can handle this!" Your voice carries a certain urgency and desperation and you dearly hope that that won't make him think that you're plotting again.

There really isn't anything for you to plot anymore. You simply want to be there, because...well, you don't even know it yourself. It's a feeling that is pulling you towards the ranch.

For the longest time none of you say a word until he pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a throwaway gesture. "Alright, but no funny business."

"No funny business.", you repeat reassuringly and mount your horse.

Together you make your way to the Downes residency and dark clouds begin to form over your head. It gives you an odd sense of deja-vu and you swallow the lump in your throat.

In the distance you spot the familiar house and there is a wagon parked in the front of it. Two people are loading crates and bags on it. They must be the wife and child Herr Strauss mentioned.

You leave your horses on the edge of the property and walk towards the wagon. You stay closely behind Arthur and recall his words.

No funny business.

"My husband's not cold in the ground and you come back here." The woman spits out her words like venom. "I nearly paid off what was owed."

"Your husband knew the rules when he took that money.", Arthur argues and lifts his hands. "Now, I'm real sorry 'bout how things turned out, but your husband had a choice. Ain't my fault 'bout the way the world is."

She gives him a look as if he had slapped her right across the face which is evidently pretty much what he did with that statement. "He had no choice! He was good and he did good. There wasn't no choice in that."

Her son hands her a bag from the top of the porch which she quickly loads up with the rest before continuing. "And you've as good as killed him yourself and don't kid yourself. You had a choice."

"You speak as if killin' is somethin' I cared about." The way he says this so coldly sends a shiver down your spine, but nevertheless, you bite your tongue.

"You ever wonder about eternity? You should."

"I hope it's hot and terrible, Mrs. Downes, otherwise I'd feel like I've been sold a false bill of goods. Now, please...get me that money."

She glares daggers at him before vanishing into the house. Watching this...it makes you uncomfortable and strange.

The son isn't any less condescending and doesn't hold back either with giving Arthur a nasty look. For most of the part, the Downes seem to be ignoring you completely.

The outlaw obviously notices the son's dismay for him and steps closer. "Either you got a lazy eye or a lack of respect. Which is it, boy?"

The young man puts down the bag he's carrying. "I ain't got no lazy eyes, nor respect for the likes of you."

When he says the last part, you don't fail to notice how his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. It doesn't come to a surprise though. You might have been the one to stop Arthur from beating Mr. Downes, but you're still the one by his side.

"Well, maybe when your mother is finished mourning your father I'll keep her in black on your behalf. You think on that, boy."

The son is left speechless for a moment and so are you. His words have shaken you to your core and you're staring at him with your mouth left slightly agape. Arthur's gaze falls on you for a brief second and there is an emotion lying in his expression that you can't quite place.

When the son finally speaks up, his voice cracks and trembles. "Well, maybe you shall, sir, and maybe other events will transpire."

"You better stick to books, because mark my words on this, vengeance is an idiot's game." Arthur's face lights up once Mrs. Downes appears in the doorway and walks down the stairs of the porch. "Ah, Mrs. Downes! Thank you for your punctuality. It's right next to godliness isn't it?"

As he counts the stack of dollar bills, she scoffs. "That's cleanliness."

"I'll have to take your word on that. Good day." With that he goes to leave for the horses, but you find yourself lingering where you stand.

Your gaze is set on Mrs. Downes and you clear your throat. "I'm...I'm so sorry for your loss."

Her eyes wander up and down as she studies you with a stone cold face. Her lips are tightly pressed together, so that they're forming a thin line and you notice only now how her eyelids are red and puffy. Probably from crying.

"I appreciate you stepping in when you did. I do.", she starts with a strained voice and you feel your heart picking up in pace. "But don't be fooled by thinking you're a good person, because you're not. Not when you ride alongside the likes of him."

These words hit you and what's worse is that they're true. You've stolen, robbed and killed. Not once have you stopped to think about what consequences your actions are bringing.

Now you see them though. This family is moving away, because they had to sell their home to pay off a debt. What about the families of the men you've murdered? The two O'Driscolls probably didn't have anyone waiting for them at home, but perhaps the guards at the bank coach did.

They lived honest lives with honest jobs. Why were they guarding that coach that day? They most likely had mouths to feed and now these mouths might not have anyone anymore.

It feels like invisible hands are wrapping their fingers around your neck and squeezing tightly. They have an iron grip on you until you sense something warm on your back. Arthur's hand.

Gently, but assertively he pushes you towards Penthesilea and helps you get up on the saddle even though you don't really need the support. The widow's words are replaying in your mind like a mantra that is meant to drag you down.

I can't continue like this.

Chapter Text

The following days pass by in a weird daze. It's as if someone has put a veil over you and your body is acting on autopilot. Mrs. Downes' harsh words keep replaying themselves in your mind like a broken record.

You've done what you came for. You saved Arthur's life, but so many more were taken by your own hands. Whenever night comes and you close your eyes, you see their faces.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as your hand slides into the hidden pocket inside your coat. The small device is still there, still waiting to be used and you fidget it in your hand for a brief moment before letting go again.

Today will be the day.

A voice rips you out of your thoughts and you look around for the source. Tilly is standing a few feet away, waving at you with a smile and two domino sets in her hand.

"Do you have time for a game?", she asks and you think for a second.

There would be no harm to spend some more time with her before you depart. In fact there are a few people you've been wanting to have a little chat with to subtly say goodbye.

"Sure, but I gotta warn you. I'm not particularly good at it.", you answer, chuckling and she waves it off.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

The two of you find a free table and sit down across one another. As you set up the game, a movement from across the camp catches your attention. It's Arthur riding in on horseback.

A smile forms on Tilly's lips as she follows your gaze. "You two seem to get along very well. I heard he paid for your horse."

"Oh, not completely. She was just a bit over my budget, so he paid for what I was missing.", you quickly add. You don't want people to get the wrong impression of your friendship with the rugged outlaw, but seems like you're too late.

"Well, it's still very kind of him." Tilly puts down a domino tile. "Can I ask you somethin' personal? And please do not hesitate to tell me off if I'm crossin' a line here."

You recall all the lies you've told the gang members about your life before Colter. If it's a personal question she wants to ask you then you don't want to get things mixed up.

"Of course."

"So...is there anythin' going on between you and Arthur?", she asks in a hushed voice and raised eyebrows.

Your eyes go wide and you clear your throat. "No! Absolutely not. We're just friends. Why? Are people talking?"

She chuckles softly at your sudden outburst and waves it off. "When aren't they talkin'?"

That's true. Even though you don't actively participate in the gossip around camp, you still manage to overhear majority of the rumors. It doesn't come as a surprise to you that they talk about you and Arthur as well.

The two of you are spending a lot of time together, but you don't have any romantic intentions with the man. It started, because you wanted to prevent him to get infected and just so happened to befriend him during the process.

"I hope you're not mad at me or anything. I didn't mean to assume, it's just that...you guys are kind of glued to each other at the hip.", she jokes with an apologetic smile and you make a throwaway gesture at that.

"It's absolutely okay, don't worry. I appreciate you coming to me and ask instead of spreading rumors."

After hearing your answer she sighs in relief and you continue the game over some casual chatter. She tells you that she misses a certain necklace that she lost when they fled Blackwater.

"I was really fond of it too. I don't think I'll ever see it again."

"Can't you buy a new one?" You're aware of how ridiculous your question sounds. That necklaces probably carries a lot of sentimental value, something one can't replace just like that.

"I guess, but it meant a lot to me.", she comments and you nod.

Maybe there's something you could do to help? You go out on jobs pretty often nowadays. "I'll keep an eye out for it."

Her face lights up, but there is still a hint of skepticism on it. "You think you could find it?"

"Maybe. Your hideout in Blackwater most likely got raided by lawmen, so it's possible that they've sold it or something like that.", you say with a shrug.

Your words might not have convinced her entirely, but they got the mood up at least. Her lips curl up into a wide smile and the game slowly comes to an end. As you part your ways, you decide that it's a good opportunity to have a word with Arthur.

The outlaw is always out on some mission and you might not get the chance to say your farewells later today before you leave. A lump forms in your throat at the prospect of returning back to your home.

It's excitement that you should be feeling about it, but all you can sense is dread. Your heart is screaming at you to stay with these people meanwhile your brain is trying to talk some sense into you.

All this time you've been allowing your emotions to lead you, but that stops now. You're way past the line at this point and God knows how much damage you've done to your timeline.

Saving Arthur is a big enough impact on the present and future by itself and you can't begin to imagine the changes that have been happening, because of you wanting to stay longer. A deep sigh escapes you and you quickly mask your frown once you approach Arthur.

"Hey, have you seen Dutch?", he asks and you shake your head.

"No, why? You gotta talk to him?"

"I do."

His gaze wanders around the camp and you two walk over to the leader's tent, but even there you can't see any sign of him. Micah is sitting at the tent entrance though and lifts his head to look up at Arthur.

"Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called-"

Arthur completely ignores the man and turns to Molly. "Hey, Molly, have you seen Dutch?"

The red head throws her hands in the air as if hearing the name alone brings bad luck. It makes you sad, really. You recall a time where her and Dutch were sitting together tangled up in a deep hug.

Ever since the camp moved from Horeshoe they've been doing bad. It's not like you and Molly were close, in fact you can't remember if you ever had a proper conversation with that woman. She still worries you. A broken heart isn't something to be taken lightly.

"Or well...however that goes.", Micah rips you out of your thoughts.

Arthur places his hands on his weapon belt and gives the blonde man a sour look. "I'm not sure that line of thought serves you or me very well."

"That's because you, cowpoke, are a man of profoundly limited intelligence."

You stifle a huffy gasp. Arthur doesn't look offended by that insult, so you decide to better stay silent. There is no need to kick up dust unnecessarily.

"While you and the old man and Dutch have been runnin' around, digging us ever deeper into shit...", Micah continues. "Old Mr. Pearson might have gone and lightened the load a little."

You and Arthur exchange skeptical looks with each other. If there's anything you picked up on during your time with the Van Der Linde gang then it's that Micah Bell is full of shit. He calls out for the camp cook, before turning back to Arthur again.

"Aren't ya curious?"

"I guess...", Arthur mutters. He doesn't seem interested at all, but you on the other hand are eager to learn what the man has to say.

It would be a mistake to brush him off. His ideas all usually end in a blood bath, especially if they're left unsupervised.

"Gentlemen!", you hear another voice call out and watch as Dutch approaches his tent. Almost immediately Micah is on his feet.

"Dutch!" He gestures towards Mr. Pearson. "You tell him, fat man."

"It's peace, Dutch. The O'Driscolls. I think there's a way.", the camp cook starts.

O'Driscolls. The mere mention of those bastards makes the hair on your neck stand up.

"What on earth are you talkin' about?", asks Dutch and you furrow your eyebrows.

Yes. What on God's green earth is he talking about?

"I met a couple of the O'Driscoll boys on the road into town." Right after Pearson says that, you straighten your back and throw your hands up in the air.

"And you didn't put a bullet in their head?" The sentence comes out harsher than you had intended and you see Arthur nodding approvingly in the corner of your vision.

Mr. Pearson puffs out his chest in a defensive manner. "Things were about to get ugly!" Then he fishes a knife out of his belt and takes on a low stance. "But y'all know how I am in a fight. Like a cornered tiger!"

He looks around expectantly and with a proud grin on his reddened face. After no one joins in on his laughter the corners of his mouth drop and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Well anyways...somehow it didn't, but we got to talkin' and they suggested a parley to end things like gentlemen."

The thought alone makes you scoff. No way are these animals willing to set their differences aside with you. You refuse to believe it unless you see it with your own two eyes.

Apparently Dutch doesn't buy into the peace offering either, because a frown begins to form on his face. "Gentlemen? Colm O'Driscoll? Have you lost your minds?"

"You're always tellin' us, Dutch.", Micah chimes in. "Do what has to be done, but don't fight wars that ain't worth fightin'."

Then another voice calls out to your group. It's Hosea. "They want a parley? It's a trap!"

It's not as if your opponion particularly matters in this regard or anything, but you still make sure to nod noticeably. Only a fool would think they're serious about this parley.

You'd have thought that Micah was smarter than this, considering he's overly cynical by nature. Perhaps you misjudged him unless there are ulterior motives hidden beneath this nonsense plan. The alarm bells in your head begin to ring.

"Well of course it's probably a trap, but what do we got to lose findin' out?"

"Get shot.", Arthur says in a matter of fact way. Even though this is a serious matter, his comment still makes you bite back a chuckle.

Micah spreads his arms. "We ain't gettin' shot, because you'll be protectin' us! If it's a trap, you'll shoot the lot of 'em, but if it ain't a trap, that slim chance..."

The rest of the sentence is left unspoken. In theory you're actually quite fond of the idea. It's only the fact that Micah out of all the people here is the one suggesting it and let's not leave out that Pearon isn't the most reliable source of information either.

He tries so desperately to look like the 'cornered tiger' he claims to be, but for those O'Driscolls he probably seemed like breakfast. You don't like the sound of all this at all and Dutch apparently shares your opinion.

The man pushes past Micah, shaking his head. "I don't see the point in any of this."

You and the other three men follow him to the table where Hosea is sitting.

"It's a chance we gotta take.", Micah urges on again.

"I find it strange how much you're pushing this peace. Weren't you the one who shot up the entirety of Strawberry?", you point out and he steps closer to you. Too close for your liking.

His hands are on his belt and he spits something out on the ground next to you. "Why don't you let us men do the talkin', huh?"

You return his glare without flinching until Arthur pushes the blonde man away by the shoulder. "You leave her be."

Dutch lifts his hand to stop the brewing fight between the three of you. "Enough! I killed Colm's brother a long time ago. Then he killed a woman I loved dear."

It's as clear as daylight that that woman's death still lays heavy on him. Dutch's gaze is set on something in the distance and Micah leans forward, placing both hands on the table.

"As you say. It's a long time ago, Dutch.", he says and you watch the leader's expression change.

There's no going back now. He's made up his mind.

"Let's go.", he declares and you can tell that Arthur and Hosea are just as disappointed as you are.

Dutch points at Micah and Arthur. "You and me, with Arthur protectin' us. No one else!"

Mr. Pearson stays in place, stunned. "What about me?"

"This ain't the time for tigers, my friend!", Dutch answers over his shoulder as him and Micah make their way to the horses.

You'd also love to join, but you already know that you will receive a similar reaction as the camp cook. Arthur let's out a long sigh and you place your hand on his arm.

"I don't like this.", you whisper and you two share looks.

"Me neither." His voice is as hushed as yours and he nods in your direction before leaving with the others.

Now you can't travel back to the present again until this is over. Arthur might be the best gunslinger in the states, but you won't be able to relax until you see him return with the others.

This peace offering stinks to the sky and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"They'll be alright.", Hosea calls out to you. "Nothing will happen on Arthur's watch."

"I know that.", you mumble under your breath and feel a hand on your shoulder.

It's Hosea and he motions with his chin towards the table he was sitting on before. "Care to play a round of cards with me?"

The offering makes the corners of your mouth curl up ever so slightly. During your time with the gang you never really had the opportunity to talk much to Dutch's right hand, but you're still very fond of him.

You appreciate that he's trying to get your mind off this whole O'Driscoll thing and you take the chance to get to know him a bit better. A lot of the things he tells you are more about Arthur instead of him, but the stories don't disappoint.

"One time we sent Arthur out fishing and he came back with three beautiful bass."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. "Really? He always says he's a bad fisherman."

Hosea's lips turn up into an amused smirk. "We toasted him all night for the catch. It was a feast! Then next week him and Dutch went to the market and the fishmonger called out to them, asking how how the bass were."

It makes you laugh and you have to put down your cards for a moment. "When was this?"

"Oh, a long time ago. He was 20 or 21, I believe.", he answers and chuckles along with you.

What a shame that you're getting all this teasing ammunition now when you're planning to leave this evening. The embarrassing stories are something you'd have needed way earlier.

"He's quite fond of you, you know? It's good to see him not angry for a change.", Hosea comments and you wave it off.

"It's nothing special, really." You've seen him get along with the others very well too.

"It never is.", he mutters and there is something lying in eyes that you can't quite decipher, but it vanishes as fast as it had appeared. "But you're fitting in just wonderfully."

"Thank you. I feel like I'm causing more trouble than I'm worth though.", you joke with a dry laugh.

The older man lifts his hand and shakes his head sternly. "Not at all. You did good with the coach and the bank robbery. Don't worry about if you're contributing enough. We all see that you're doing your best since day one."

All that praise is overwhelming and you awkwardly cough into your fist. It's true that you've been trying to earn your keep ever since you joined, but it's an entirely different thing to have someone of Hosea's caliber acknowledge it, let alone point it out.

"I also just now realized how little I know about your life before you joined us."

His words strike a cord in you and you feel an uncomfortable heat spreading through your body.

"There isn't much to know." Your answer comes out casual, but you still can't help but feel like he doesn't buy it.

His eyes are fixed on you and you try your hardest to not move a single muscle. It feels like the slightest flinch could ruin the web of lies you've oh so carefully constructed.

"I think there's more to you than you let the others believe, but I won't pressure you. We all carry baggage around with us."

You fight back the urge to let out a relieved sigh and the game of cards continues on. Hosea shares some more embarrassing stories from Arthur's youth and talks a bit about John as well.

He mentions his late wife, Bessie, but he doesn't linger on that topic for too long. For a brief moment a sort of invisible veil falls over his face, similar to the one Durch had when he talked about Colm killing the woman he loved.

As the card game comes to an end, you search for other means to keep yourself occupied. You gaze keeps going towards the camp entrance to look for the three men returning.

The sun is beginning to set, covering the base in an orange hue and after what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the sound of horses. Quickly you jump up from your spot and rush over to the posts alongside some others who are just as curious.

"So?", Pearson asks expectantly and you watch Dutch and Micah get off their horses.

That's when you notice that someone is missing. "Where's Arthur?"

The two men exchange looks that you can't quite decipher and you feel your throat dry up.

"Where's Arthur?", you ask again, but this time with more urgency in your voice.

Micah clears his throat. "He didn't meet up with us."

"What does that mean?" Your question earns you a theatrical eye roll from the man.

"It means exactly what I said. He didn't meet up with us.", he answers aggravated and you focus your attention on Dutch.

He's lost in thoughts, clenching and relaxing his jaw repeatedly. The gears in his head are turning. You can see it in his face.

"Did the O'Driscolls take him?", you want to know and Micah waves it off.

"Relax, will ya? He's probably out in town and drinkin'. Nothin' happened when we met Colm. He just talked and left."

You can't believe this. You refuse. Arthur wouldn't just not follow the plan and leave for a drink without a word. Especially not when he is on a job as important as this one. It doesn't sit right with you.

"Well, did you look for him?" Your voice is laced with desperation.

"He's a grown man. He'll either return tonight piss drunk or with a hangover tomorrow mornin'."

His lack of concern irritates you. What's even worse though is the fact that Dutch hasn't said a single word about this and you turn to face him. A pleading look covers your expression and he raises his hand slowly.

"Micah's right. It's Arthur we're talkin' about. He can watch out for himself.", he tells you reassuringly, but his low effort to console you bounces off you like a brick wall.

But with no one being alarmed, there's not much you can do. You don't know where they met up and you don't think you could take on a bunch of O'Driscolls by yourself anyways if you're lucky enough and do run into them.

Dutch leaves for his tent and Micah starts walking away too, but you quickly step infront of him. Your eyes are on fire and you spit your words out like venom. "I swear to God if anything happened to him, because of your stupid fucking plan..."

He narrows his eyes as he stares you down with an equal amount of discontent. "Careful now. You don't want to go toe to toe with me, sweetheart."

Wrong. You shouldn't go toe to toe with him, but your fingers are itching for a fight right now. There's nothing you want to do more than wipe that drunk smirk off his ugly face.

The staring contest goes on for a few more seconds before he walks past you, but not without ramming his shoulder harshly against yours. It sends you stumbling back a few steps and you glare daggers into his back. If you could you'd have him drop dead right about now.

"What do you think?", you hear Sadie ask next to you and you force your attention away from Micah.

"They're being morons, is what I think.", you answer through gritted teeth.

Maybe you shouldn't call the gang leader a moron so openly for everyone to hear and you have absolutely no idea where this sudden courage is coming from. Before today you would have never butted heads with the likes of Micah Bell, but here you are.

Everything is pointing at the fact that Arthur most likely got abducted. Perhaps the whole purpose of that silly peace offering was to get to him. Why else would Colm just...well, just talk? Nothing about this makes any sense and your head is pounding as you try to figure out what to do next.

Still you cling onto that little bit of hope that the outlaw might have just gone out and is actually safe and possibly hammered at a bar. So you wait. Even after everyone has headed to bed, you're sitting at the post Penthesilea is hitched at and wait.

At some point during the night Sadie comes by to hand you a blanket and try to get you to bed, but you stay firm. John passes you to start his nightly guard duty and you lock eyes for a moment before he vanishes into the trees.

As the night comes to an end and the sun begins you rise, there is still no sign of Arthur. You can hear the camp waking up behind you and you listen to the birds chirping gleefully like they do every morning.

The daily routine goes on with Miss Grimshaw brewing coffee and Pearson setting up the stew. John comes out of the forest and you lift your head to throw him a hopeful look.

He shakes his head.

Chapter Text

With no sign of Arthur still, you stomp your way to Dutch who's smoking a cigar infront of his tent. The smoke fills your nostrils and you swat it away before coming to a halt infront of the man.

His eyes flash when they fall on your face as if he already knows what you're here for.

"He is fine.", Dutch starts and you hastily shake your head.

"He's not fine, Dutch. We have to look for him. Please.", you plead and he let's out an exasperated sigh.

You have no idea how he could be so calm about all of this. Doesn't he usually preach about how Arthur is like a son to him? Then why isn't he worried like a father should be? It feels like you're talking to a brick wall whenever you bring up that the rugged outlaw might be in trouble.

"He probably got arrested and is sleepin' off his hangover behind bars. Wouldn't be the first time.", Micah chimes in from further away, but you ignore him completely. He's the last person you want to talk to at the moment, let alone look at.

"If he doesn't show up until noon then I will send someone out to check the Sheriff's office to bail him out.", Dutch tells you and places his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner. "He's fine. I promise."

A long sigh escapes your throat and you decide to not push the subject any further. Clearly he won't pay you any mind, so you have to take matters into your own hands.

As you walk over to Pearson's cooking station, you make a mental list of people who could help you. Sadie is the number one candidate of course. She already believed you yesterday.

"Good morning, Mrs. Pearson.", you call out to the camp cook who's chopping up some vegetables.

"Mornin'", he grumbles back and you don't fail to notice the opened whisky bottle next to the chopping board he's working at.

You're not completely sure if he will tell you where the meeting place was with the O'Driscolls, but it can't be too hard to get it out of him. If you play your cards right that is and you've gotten pretty decent at that by now.

"You know, the peace offering might not have worked as we all hoped it would, but I still think you deserve some credit for trying.", you say and casually lean against the table with your hips. "It's not easy to make the O'Driscolls listen to you. It was a group that you talked to, right?"

Upon hearing your words, the man nods. "Yes! It was about to get real nasty, but you know me."

"A cornered tiger.", you quote him from yesterday, earning you a wide grin from the man.

"Precisely! They knew they stood no chance."

"I can imagine." You chuckle along with him. "I was wondering how that conversation went. Everyone is talking about it, you know?"

Pearson raises his brows in surprise and leans over to you. It's clear that he's trying to mask his curiosity, but he has an awful pokerface. "What are they saying?"

"Oh, you know. People are praising you quite a bit. The O'Driscolls are scary. I know that from first hand experience." You sincerely hope that you're not laying it on too thick, but the cook seems to be eating it all up without question.

"They were pretty nasty lookin', I'll tell ya that, but it takes more than that to scare off good ol' me.", he comments with barking laughter and you nod along.

After an exhausting amount of time spent sweet talking and flattering the older man, he finally drops a location and you bite back a victorious grin. You feel a bit bad for playing him like a fiddle.

It truly looks like he just wants someone to listen to him and appreciate his efforts. You make a mental note to yourself to bring him something nice from town at some point like special spices or other ingredients.

Making sure that you don't excuse yourself too abruptly, you leave the cooking station and let your eyes wander around the camp. Now you need to find someone who's not only willing to join your cause, but also a decent tracker, because you're definitely not.

Sadie was living on the countryside and you remember her talking about how she used to hunt together with her husband. Unfortunately you can't seem to find her anywhere, so you go ask Karen about it.

"Miss Grimshaw sent her out to town to get some supplies.", the woman tells you and you stifle a defeated groan.

"Okay, thanks." With these words you walk towards Penthesilea and give her an oatcake. The Andalusian happily accepts the treat and you give her some soft pats.

Who else is there you could ask? A name pops up right after and your eyes fall on Charles who's cleaning his gun not too far away from you. He's the best hunter in camp and close enough to Arthur to perhaps care.

Besides, he has helped you before by lending Taima to you. You could slap yourself for not thinking of him sooner.

"Charles, can I talk to you for a second?", you call out to the man and he looks up from his work.

"It's about Arthur, isn't it?", he asks and you clear your throat awkwardly.

You take a seat next to him and lower your voice a bit. "I was wondering if you would check out the place where they met yesterday."

A deep sigh can be heard from the man infront of you and he slides his gun back into his holster. "You heard Dutch."

"Well, Dutch is-" You stop yourself before you could throw yet another insult at the leader like yesterday. "It doesn't feel right. Arthur wouldn't just run off like that after a job and you know it."

Charles nods barely noticeably to himself as your words sink in.

"I'm not asking you to raid an O'Driscoll camp with me. I just want to check if there are any signs of struggle and then we can report it to Dutch. He'll listen to you more than to me.", you quickly add and the man stands up after not saying anything for a long time.

"Alright then."

It's impossible to fight back the wide, grateful grin that's forming on your face and you rush to mount your horse. You lead him towards the spot Pearson has told you about and let your gaze wander around. It's an open area with no buildings nearby.

"They said they'd have Arthur watch over them if things go bad, so I think he might have waited somewhere else.", you point out and Charles motions with his chin towards a hill to your left.

"We should look what's up there then.", he suggests and you follow him to the top.

It makes sense that he might have waited at an elevated point. The wide, naked field doesn't particularly leave much room to hide. Once you arrive at the peak, Charles gets off Taima and squats to study some tracks on the ground.

"There are multiple footprints.", he mutters and you feel your throat tighten.

So you were right all along. Arthur was ambushed after all and you force back the fear that's bubbling up in your chest. Now is not the time to lose your head.

I need to stay focused. For him.

Charles' gaze is set on something in the distance as he stands up. "They went west I believe."

"We have to follow them!" The words shoot out of you like a bullet and you bite back a frustrated groan when Charles shakes his head.

"You said we wouldn't attack them. It would be smarter to go back to camp and look for him with a bigger group."

He's right. You did say that, but there is a slim chance that they stopped to rest somewhere. It's also possible that, by the time you report back, the tracks are gone and then there aren't any pointers to follow anymore.

"We don't have to ambush them. Wouldn't it be better to see where they went and then go directly there from camp?"

The urgency is prominent in both your tone and expression and the two of you just stare at each other for a long time without exchanging a single word. After a while Charles let's out a defeated sigh and mounts Taima again.

You ride west and you try to force your attention on something else, but it's futile. Mental images of an injured or possibly dead Arthur pass by your inner eye and you shake your head.

They wouldn't kill him. Right? What they'd do is probably try to get information out of him or hand him over to the law. He wouldn't be of much use to Colm if he's dead. That thought gives you a little bit of comfort.

It takes half a day for you to find an abandoned makeshift camp. By the looks of it, someone packed their things up in a hurry. The fireplace in the middle is out, but still warm, so whoever stayed here didn't leave too long ago.

Charles and you search the area for more clues until you stumble upon a large blood splatter in the grass. Your horrified gasp is enough to alarm the other man and he's quickly by your side.

"What do you think happened?", you ask, voice trembling. You don't know if you even want to hear the answer.

"Looks like he tried to escape and they caught him." He squats down to inspect the dried puddle further. "They shot him."

Your heartbeat picks up in pace and you rub your hand over your forehead.

They shot him.

Charles is quickly back on his feet and places a warm hand on your shoulder. His dark eyes are searching for yours and he gives you a reassuring look. "It's not a fatal wound. There isn't enough blood for that."

You cling to his words like a lifeline and nod to yourself. He's right. The blood speck is huge, but not enough for him to bleed out. Besides, you already established in your head that they wouldn't kill him.

With a lot of effort, you relax again or at least as much as the situation allows you to. Charles' calm presence is like a rock. You would have lost your mind if you had gone by yourself.

"They most likely went further west. We should tell Dutch and figure things out from there.", he says and you reluctantly agree.

Going back to camp is the last thing you want to do right now, but there isn't much you can do with just the two of you. Yes, Charles is a skilled fighter and gunslinger, but you're not sure if you're able to give him the needed support for a task as big as raiding a camp.

The sound of blood rushing through your ears, drowns out any other noise and your eyes are fixed on the road. Penthesilea is riding at full speed and you can feel the wind tug harshly at your clothes.

The ride back takes another half a day and by the time you arrive most of the gang members are dressed in their sleeping garments. As you hitch your horses, Charles tells you that he will go speak to Dutch and you nod.

You pace around by the hitching posts while waiting for him to return until a scream rips you out of your thoughts. It's Mary-Beth.

"Arthur!", is what she yells and you spin around on your heels.

A familiar Tennessee Walker is standing at the edge of camp on the other side and next to it, a large figure is laying in the grass. Mary-Beth is bent over it and you immediately recognize it as Arthur.

Your legs quickly carry you towards them and you fall down on your knees, sliding a bit over the dirt ground. The outlaw looks like he's one step away from either passing out or dying.

His clothes are covered in mud and dried blood and his face is pale and beaten up. Carefully you touch his cheek with your fingertips and his eyes flutter open to look at you. Soon after that Dutch joins your side as well.

"I told you it was a set-up, Dutch.", Arthur groans and falls into a coughing fit right after.

"My boy, my dear boy, what?", Dutch asks puzzled and you bite down on your tongue.

"The meeting with the O'Driscolls.", you snarl and throw the leader an enraged look over your shoulder.

I told you so, you fool.

More of the gang members show up around you and Dutch calls out for Grimshaw and Swanson.

"He was gonna set the law on us.", Arthur hisses through gritted teeth. The pain in his voice breaks your heart.

Finally it seems like the gang leader grasps the seriousness of the situation and his worried expression turns into one of fury. "Of course he was!"

"I'm sorry, Arthur.", Pearson chimes in from behind you and you feel your fingers itch for a fight.

But Dutch snaps at him before you could. "It's a bit late for apologies now!"

Pearson and Dutch hoist the hurt man up from the ground and help him get to his tent. You follow closely behind and watch them place him into bed.

"Miss Grimshaw, will you sit with him for a while?", Dutch asks the other woman and you take a step forward.

"No! Please, I...let me do it." Your voice breaks for a moment and you lock eyes with the leader.

He doesn't voice it, but you can see the apology in his brown orbs and he nods. Without speaking another word, you sit down on the chair next to Arthur's bed and take his hand in yours.

"You're safe now.", you whisper, but you can't tell if you're saying it to him or to yourself.

His return still feels a bit surreal to you like a fever dream and you're worried that if you close your eyes, you might wake up from it. Arthur gives your hands a weak squeeze and you bring his knuckles up to your lips.

Every following night after that, you sit by his bed until his condition becomes stable and in each of those nights you hold his hands. It's an odd feeling to go back to your own tent, but you desperately need the sleep.

You've been running on nothing except coffee and only a couple hours of rest. Before you head to bed though, there's something else you have to do. Something that's long overdue by now.

As you wrap your coat tightly around your form, you sneak past the sleeping bodies towards the lake. The small timetravelling device is still securely tugged in your hidden pocket, but that's not what you're taking out of your coat.

It's a worn leather bound journal that you haven't dared to look at ever since you went back in time. Nevertheless, you have kept it close to you every single day and now you decided to open it up again.

On the first glance it doesn't look like anything has changed. The same pages are still missing and the same entries are still unreadable. Some of the drawings are intact, but you've seen them all before.

As you flip through, you notice something peculiar in the middle of it. It's a new drawing, more detailed than the other ones. Most of them are doodles, but every now and then you find a portrait where you can tell that he took his time creating it.

Your eyes are glued to the page as a familiar face stares back at you. It's you, but at the same time it can't be. This woman is more beautiful than any mirror reflection you've ever laid your eyes on.

A wet sensation spreads on your cheeks and you quickly close the journal shut. The meaning of this new find, the depth behind it, isn't anything you're ready to face just yet, but it confirms your decision.

You put away the book and replace it with the device in your hidden pocket. Moonlight hits the smooth surface of the object and makes it look like it's almost glowing. You tighten your grip around it to the point where the whites of your knuckles are showing.

"Forgive me, Francis.", you whisper to yourself and fling the device into the river.

It has no use for you anymore. Nothing in this world will ever convince you to return back to your time. This is where you belong now. These are the people who you belong with.

---

Arthur is beginning to recover a little which he interprets as him being fully able to go back to his old routine, when even getting up to take a piss exhausts him to no end. So now you find yourself rushing to the other side of camp, because he looks like he's going to pass out from only pouring himself coffee.

"What are you doing out of bed?", you demand to know like a mother scolding her son for coming home drunk after curfew.

"Jesus, I wonder how I survived without your care all these years.", he mumbles, but there is no discontent in his voice. In fact, his lips are curled up into a small smirk.

Clearly he's taking enjoyment out of your distress and if his shoulder wouldn't have a bullet hole in it, you'd have slapped it.

"You're lucky you're hurt." With these words, you take the cup out of his hands and gently, but firmly lead him back to his tent.

A weak laugh escapes him as he let's you push him into bed and takes the coffee from you. "Yea, even you wouldn't bully an injured man."

"What was that?"

"Nothin'."

A pleased sigh falls over his lips as he takes a sip from the hot beverage and you take a seat next to him. Activity has been slow the past days as if Arthur's absence and inability to join jobs puts everything in the camp to a halt.

Lately none of the boys has been meddling in the feud between the Grays and Braithwaites and Dutch hasn't ordered anything big either. Only a few coaches and homesteads here and there are being robbed.

Even you have barely left the camp ever since the rugged outlaw's return. The image of him half dead on the ground still haunts your nightmares and you run your hand over your face.

You've been avoiding Micah, Dutch and Pearson as best as you can. The grudge you're holding for the three men is still deeply rooted within you and you simply can't stand being near them. It's outrageous how gullible and naive they were, genuinely believing that the O'Driscolls were out for peace.

"Hey.", Arthur rips you out of your thoughts and you whip your head around. "You good?"

The question floors you and you pull your eyebrows together in confusion. "Why?"

"I don't know, you tell me. You got that frown on that face ever since I came back."

He knows that you and Charles went out searching for him, but he's not aware of how Dutch didn't move a single muscle. As much as it angers you, you have no intention of letting Arthur know.

"It's just...I think I got on Micah's bad side after they returned from the meeting.", you confess, which isn't entirely a lie.

It's not the cause for your frown, but it's been lingering in the back of your mind nonetheless. Ever since you butted heads with the man, he's been acting especially nasty towards you. It's not like he was nice before that, but at least he was indifferent.

Now you catch him giving you odd looks or throwing rude remarks your way. Nothing too much, but it's still a big enough shift in his behavior for you to catch on.

"He won't lay a finger on you. I promise.", Arthur says and you let out a sigh.

"I'm not worried. Just annoyed."

He wouldn't do anything to you. Not while you're still a member of the gang and a valuable one at that. If Hosea hadn't praised you like he did during the card game, you'd probably be more concerned about your safety.

"How's your shootin' comin' along?" You welcome the change of topic, even though your answer is less pleasant.

"I haven't really practiced much the past few days.", you admit hesitantly. With Arthur being like this you didn't even consider practicing anything of the sort.

And he knows that too. That's why he's putting his hand on your knee. The action is fleeing, almost uncertain, as if he isn't sure if he's allowed to touch you. Little does he know that you're actually embracing every bit of contact between you.

The warmth of his hand sends a jolt through your body, but you mask the effect he has on you. Ever since that fateful night where you found the drawing he made of you, you've been confused. Surely, the feelings you harbor for the man must be purely platonic still.

There's no way one can develop anything deeper this fast unless it was there all along, hidden in plain sight. For a second there you forgot that you're having a conversation with him and you force these chaotic thoughts to the far back of your head.

"Listen, I...I'm really bad at these things.", he starts, struggling to find the right words. "I'm thankful for what you're doin'. Everything that you're doin'. But I don't want you to think that you have to look over me."

Quickly you grasp his hand in yours and give it a reassuring squeeze. "It's nothing like that, Arthur. You're very dear to me and I was very, very worried for you."

His blue eyes flicker towards anywhere except your face and he doesn't respond with anything except for a hasty nod. For a moment there you're worried that your words might have crossed a line, might have made him uncomfortable in a way, but then he wraps his fingers around yours more firmly.

That small act alone makes you smile the sweetest of smiles and dream the softest of dreams.

Chapter Text

Two weeks have passed now since the incident with the O'Driscolls and things have gone back to how they used to be. Except for your friendship with Arthur that is. It's not a too noticeable change, but there has definitely been a shift in the dynamic between the two of you.

You can feel it in the fleeing, yet lingering touches. How his knuckles would brush over yours when he passes you or how the tips of his fingers would apply a soft pressure on your skin, leaving the spot feeling as if it's on fire afterwards.

You can see it in his blue orbs when they'd meet yours over the camp fire. How you'd lock eyes with each other while standing on opposite sides of camp or how his gaze searches for yours whenever you're close by.

All these small acts leave a warm sensation in your chest that has you grinning like an idiot. At times you'd feel like an absolute buffoon, because he only has to say one word to you and you'd be floating on clouds.

"Jesus, get a room.", Sadie would snarl annoyingly, but at the same time jokingly, whenever she catches you smile the silliest of smiles.

Even now you can't go one day without talking to the outlaw. You cross the camp to walk over to the pier where he's sitting at and scribbling away in his journal. You can't help but wonder what he's writing in there or perhaps it's another drawing. Is it about you perhaps?

"Look who's all better.", you call out to him and lean against one of the posts keeping the wooden structure standing. "I suppose I can't talk you into resting for another week."

Arthur closes the journal and takes his hat off, placing it in his lap. His calloused hands fidget with it, fingers tracing over the rim.

"Nah, can't do. I got work to do, stealin' family jewels and such.", he answers with his lips curled up into a half smile.

"Of course you do." Your gaze wanders over to the river. The large body of water is a constant reminder of the decision you made a while ago.

For a short time you were worried that you might regret chucking Francis' device away, but all you feel is relief. Relief and content. There is no responsibility looming over you and with throwing away your return ticket, you have simultaneously gotten rid of your anxiety.

It's refreshing and light as if you had slid a heavy winter coat off your shoulders to welcome the warmth of an upcoming spring with open arms. Or maybe you're just full of shit and have been exaggerating everything this entire time.

"I will actually also be busy today, I'll have you know.", you say and Arthur raises his eyebrows in fake bewilderment.

"Really now? And here I was, afraid that I might have put you out of a job with my recovery.", he says, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"I saw Beau the other day and he invited me for a small chat this afternoon. You're very welcome to join me if you're interested."

He shakes his head and waves it off. "No, I think I'll pass."

That doesn't come as a surprise to you considering how it went last time with the young Gray and his (not so secret) secret love affair. Arthur probably wants to avoid sneaking around and delivering letters again and you don't blame him for that.

"I'll see you this evening then.", you say and he stands up with a low grunt.

The bullet wound must still hurt at least a little bit. He does his very best to hide it, but you can see it in the small things. It's the details, the little cracks and nooks where the truth leaks out, but you also know that he'd rather get his other shoulder shot at as well than to admit it.

Arthur stands before you, his hand twitching, longing for yours. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"I always do.", you respond with a knowing smirk. As much as you actually try to stay out of it, it somehow still finds you as if it's naturally drawn to you.

Just as you are a natural at getting out of it unscathed. Most of the time at least. He returns your smile and nods as he places his signature cowboy hat back on his head. "Sure."

With that you walk over to the hitching posts and get Penthesilea ready for the small trip. You can't wait to ride out with her again. It's been an awfully long time with you not sitting in a saddle.

She greets you cheerfully and you make your way towards the Gray manor. It's a beautiful day today with the sun being so high up and the birds chirping away. Much to your relief, the roads seem to be pretty empty as well as there are no other travellers crossing your path.

Even the Gray residency shows a lack of activity, but you assume that it must be Sean's and Arthur's doing. The sight of the burned down tobacco fields fills you with a grim feeling.

Yes, it is quite the jab against the supposedly rich family, but now the workers are out of jobs as well. You can't imagine that Tavish Gray, the head of the family, would keep them around when there's no use of them anymore.

A sigh escapes your lips as you approach the manor from the front where only one guard is posted this time. It's a surprisingly young lad who can't be a day older than 18. You had no idea that Mr. Gray even employs guards this young.

"I'm here to visit Beau.", you tell him and he studies you through narrowed eyes. He squares up his shoulders as he approaches you slowly, taking in your appearance.

You can't tell where this sudden hostility is coming from or perhaps he's just being too eager. He might be the type who'd want to prove himself to his boss and colleagues, especially at that age.

"Who are you?", he asks in a rather demanding tone and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

There was a time where someone like him, holding a rifle like that, would have intimidated you, but not anymore. By now you know that you'd outsling him without a doubt. With a polite smile on your face, you give him your name and hope that Beau has mentioned you and your meet-up to the security.

"You can find him at the stables."

As you signal Penthesilea to move, the young man lifts his hand and you raise your eyebrow in confusion.

What is it now?

"I need you to leave your horse over there.", he tells you, pointing at the opposite direction and you give him a puzzled look.

"Why?"

Obviously he isn't too fond of your questioning as his nostrils flare up in irritation. "We have some new security measures. Just do as I say, Lady."

His rude tone rubs you the wrong way and as much as you'd love to stay here and argue with him, you know that it would be foolish. You shouldn't get on either family's bad side. Not while Dutch and the others are trying to stay on good terms while exploiting them.

So you do as instructed and leave your Andalusian at the spot he pointed at and go towards the stables on foot. You still remember the layout of the property from your last visit, but it's not too complicated anyways.

After reaching the stables, you spot a familiar mop of brown hair and you lean with both arms against the gate. The wood creaks under your weight and Beau turns around.

His entire face lights up as his eyes fall on you and he stretches out his arms. "You're here!" Then he peeks over your shoulder as if he's searching for something. "I assume our friend didn't want to join us?"

"No, he's busy.", you lie and Beau turns his attention back to the horse he was brushing before your interruption.

"I just have to finish up some things 'round here if you don't mind.", he tells you over his shoulder which makes you shake your head.

"Take your time." You eyes scan the area to make sure no one is eavesdropping. "Listen, what is it with that extra security measure here? The guard at the front entrance was acting like a dick."

At that Beau shrugs. "Hell if I know. My family doesn't tell me what's goin' on most of the time and it's not any different now."

You had hoped to get a better answer from him, but it still doesn't surprise you.

"Must be the tobacco fields.", you mutter to yourself.

It would only make sense to be more cautious after that incident, but then why would they only post one guard? And such an inexperienced one like him as well? The more you think about it, the less sense it makes, but maybe you're just overthinking it.

After all they made Dutch, Bill and Arthur deputies on a drunk whim. That alone tells you that they don't tend to think things through.

"How are things with you and you know who?", you ask, leaving Penelope's name unspoken intentionally.

Everyone and their grandma might already know about the two young lovers, but you still want to at least try to keep it a secret. The sigh Beau let's out doesn't sound too good.

"It's not goin' too well at all after my cousins saw me at the rally.", he answers and the corners of your mouth drop a little.

You can't say that you didn't expect it, but it's nevertheless, sad news. You really like the couple. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's nothin' new. I guess."

Then you hear voices approaching and you exchange wide eyed looks with the young Gray.

Quiet now.

You can't be dropping the Braithwaite woman's name with people around. It doesn't matter whether they're part of the family or ordinary workers. By the sound of it, it looks to be the latter.

"I'm tellin' ya! They all picked up their guns and rode off to town.", one of them says with the raspiness of a dedicated chainsmoker.

The other sounds way smoother in comparison. "But why? Do ya think they'll finally wage war against that damned family?"

All your attention is now set on that conversation. It wouldn't be too big of a twist if the Grays decided to shoot up the Braithwaite manor after all the mischief the gang has caused for them.

"No, no. They said they was meetin' some Yankees at the Sheriff's. To settle a score, they said."

His answer makes your heart drop and you look at Beau with a mortified expression. There are only so many Yankees in this area they could be talking about and you'd bet all your money that they mean yours.

That's when you recall Sean telling you earlier today that he'd go to Rhodes together with Bill and Micah. Beau steps closer to you and you push yourself off the gate.

"I need to leave. Now.", you say, urgency and panic lacing your voice and you turn your head towards where you had left Penthesilea.

She's on the whole other side of the property, but if you run faat enough you could still make it to the others in time. Suddenly reigns are being shoved into your hand, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Take one of the horses.", Beau says and you give him a grateful look.

Words can't describe your gratitude, but you don't have the time to attempt it anyways. With a nod in his direction, you mount the horse he has given you and signal it to carry you to town at full speed.

Buildings appear in the distance as you race over fields and jump over fences, not even bothering to follow the road like you usually do. Soon you spot the group walking along the main street and notice that it's four of them instead of three.

Arthur is in the back, clearly engrossed in a heated discussion with the others with the way he gestures around with his arms. Of course that moron is here as well. It seems as if he always manages to get the front row seat to whatever danger is presenting itself at the moment.

"Boys!", you yell at the top of your lungs and they stop in their tracks to look at you. You're almost right by them now. "Go back! Run! They know that-"

You don't get to finish your sentence as the loud bang of a gun cuts through the air, blowing your horse's head clean off. Warm blood splatters over your face and clothes and you come crashing down.

The fall knocks all the air out of your lungs and you gasp like a fish on land, trying to breathe. As the men take cover behind some crates, you realize that one of your legs is stuck under the horse and you grunt and pant while trying to lift the heavy body.

A bullet lands awfully close to the ground next to you and you let out a terrified yelp. Then suddenly the weight on your leg vanishes as you watch Arthur and Sean hoist the animal off you. Just enough for you to get out.

Quickly you crawl to one of the crates to hide behind as well and take out your Schofield. It's a near damn miracle that you didn't lose this weapon during the fall and you cling onto it so tight that the whites on your knuckles are showing.

By the looks of it, it seems like the entire damn Gray family is out to get you.

"How'd you know it was a set-up?", Bill yells over the gunshots out to you.

"I was at the manor and overheard the workers mentioning it!", you scream back and duck as the top of the crate explodes into hundreds of splinters.

Luckily none of them hit you and you peek around the corner to aim your weapon. One man falls down on his knees after you pull the trigger and you quickly take cover again.

The boys are talking about something along the lines of changing positions, but you can't see how you'd do that. With all these bullets raining down on you, you're scared to even blink.

Micah yells something about retreating to the gunsmith's and you plan a mental route in your mind. If you take the way behind the buildings then you should be fine. Unfortunately just as you're about to start moving, hands grab you from behind and violently yank you back.

With a short cut scream you stumble backwards, but catch your balance in time to avoid hitting the ground. Two men stand before you with large hunting knives  and without hesitation you point the barrel of your Schofield at them and fire two shots.

One goes down immediately, meanwhile the other let's out a guttural cry as he falls to his knees, gripping his thigh. Before you could finish him off, your revolver is being knocked out of your hands and you're being dragged to the Sheriff's office.

No matter how much you kick, punch and fight back, the person's grip on you is like iron. Shortly after you go through the door, a group of three follow you closely behind. It's two men, struggling to hold Bill in place who is putting as much effort into breaking free as you.

"Sheriff Gray! You need to get a hold on this town! It's going to hell!", you hear Micah shout from outside.

A quick look at Leigh Gray tells you all you need to know. Instead of admitting his unavoidable defeat, his nostrils flare up in outrage. "Who do you think you are? A bunch of two-bit thugs from God knows where? You're so dumb to think that we don't know what you've been doin'!"

Micah doesn't sound too fazed when he answers. "Come out, Sheriff! It's over!"

This is the first time ever that you're actually glad to have Micah here with his unwavering confidence and never ending bloodlust. These people here stand no chance against that maniac.

"We put down far worse than you! A hundred times over! This is the Gray's town. Always has been, always will be!"

"The only Gray's left I see 'round here, is you!", the outlaw argues and the Sheriff let's out a huff.

"You want us to come out? We'll come out!" With that they kick open the door and one of the men pushes Bill out.

A smack of the lips can be heard from Arthur. "Oh, Bill!", he says rather annoyed.

His entire attitude shifts the moment they force you through the door though. A pair of blue orbs are focused on you, but all you can think about is the feeling of cold metal on your temple. A shotgun is being pointed at you and mental images of your brain out on the floor pass by your inner eye.

"Guns on the ground now! All three of you!", one of the men demands harshly.

"Don't do it!", Bill insists and you nod approvingly. If the three of them surrender now, then you're all fucked.

"You know we can't do that. You put the gun down Sheriff!" Arthur's voice sounds strained from anger.

The barrel is being pushed closer against your temple, but you feel the Sheriff tremble behind you. "I'll blow her brains out!"

That was the wrong move to make. Next thing you know the man falls back as a bullet enters his scull and he almost drags you down with him. After Arthur, Micah and Sean deal with the rest, you stumble down the stairs and feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your body.

"Are you hurt anywhere?", the outlaw asks you and his eyes scan your face and figure for any injuries.

You manage a shake of your head. "No, this isn't my blood."

Getting it out of your hair and clothes is going to be a piece of work once it dries up which it's already starting to do.

"This really went well. Right, lads?", Sean comments, his words oozing with sarcasm and Bill throws his hands up in the air.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" His voice comes out harsh and defensive and Arthur glares daggers at him as he let's go of you. Immediately, you start missing the closeness.

"Oh let me guess!", the outlaw shouts, getting louder and louder with each word. "They set us up once before, they didn't like us, we destroyed their farm. Should I go on?"

Micah comes strolling over with his arms stretched out. "Go easy on him, Morgan. He was out tryin' to find a lead, same as you, same as Hosea. All you do is complain when things don't work out. Except when it's your own goddamn fault."

"You don't know what you're talkin' about.", Arthur snarls through gritted teeth. "You don't give a damn 'bout nobody but yourself!"

The other man let's out a dry laugh and raises his hands. "Oh, you act so high and mighty, but you're no better than the rest of us. I've ridden with you boys close to what? Six months now? And all you've ever done was complain. You can fight, but you can't think."

"And you can't do either." Arthur briefly touches your shoulder, motioning to where his horse is hitched and your groups starts walking.

Even though you don't need the help, he still lends you a hand when you mount his horse. He agrees to give you a ride to the Gray residency to pick up Penthesilea while the others return back to camp.

Somehow you manage to convince him to wait at the edge of the property and let you sneak in alone. If you come riding in now, looking like someone spilled a bucket of blood over you, you will only alarm the young guard at the entrance.

He already isn't particularly fond of you and you don't expect him to just let you get to your horse. It doesn't take too long though and you manage to stay undetected. You feel guilty for getting the horse Beau let you borrow killed, but perhaps he will understand once you explain the situation to him.

If you will ever get the chance to do so. With the ambush in town, there is nothing that speaks in favor for staying here. In fact, after shooting up and successfully killing the entire town the last thing you should do is linger.

Arthur and you make your way back as fast as possible, expecting everyone to be running around and packing, but you're being met with an entirely different sight. A small group of people is gathered around Dutch's tent and it looks serious.

You exchange puzzled looks with Arthur before you walk over to see what exactly is going on. Abgail's eyes are red and puffy and panic is written all over her features.

"Where's my goddamn son?", the woman yells, rage and fear lacing her voice. "Where is he? Where's my son? They took him, didn't they? They took my son."

"Who?", you ask and Hosea walks up to you.

He points at something behind him. "We think the Braithwaite woman took him. That Kieran saw a couple of fellers."

Your heart drops after hearing that. Turns out both families decided to strike at the same time.

"Where's my son?", Abigail chimes in again. "If anythin'- where is my son, Dutch Van Der Linde?"

Dutch places his hand on her shoulder and looks her deep into the eyes. "We will find him. We will bring him back to you and we will kill any fool who had the temerity to touch one hair on that boy's head. Abigail, you have my word."

In the corner of your eyes you spot John walking up to your group. His face is strained and his entire body is tense. You don't remember the last time you have seen him like that. If you ever even have.

"Just get me back my son.", Abigail says and the men start walking towards the horses.

"I will get that boy back, so help me God!"

Your eyes are fixed on the worried mother and you put your hand on her back. You'd have offered her a hug too if you weren't covered in blood.

In the distance you see the rest of the men in camp approaching and Bill calls out. "Dutch, we just heard what happened with Jack. So you need extra guns?"

As the men ride off, you walk Abigail to her tent and sit down with her.

"Jack is going to be fine. They will bring him back to you by the end of the day, you'll see.", you say in a soothing tone and rub circles on her back.

These animals will regret this. You're sure of it.

Chapter Text

After a while Mary-Beth takes your place beside Abigail and you decide to take the opportunity to freshen up and change into a pair of clean clothes. Without a proper bathtub, you struggle to scrub the dried blood off your skin and hair, but eventually it's gone.

By the time you're finished, the sun has set completely, though rest is the last thing anyone here can think of. Suspension hangs heavy in the air as you all await the men's return, hopefully with Jack amongst them.

It still angers you. It's one thing to hold a grudge against the gang. They could have tried to shoot up your camp the same way the Grays have tried in Rhodes, but no. These Braithwaites seem to be a special breed.

Now you're only left with hoping, praying and trusting that the others will succeed. As much confidence as you have in them, there is still a small sprout of doubt in the back of your mind, threatening to grow. That family has proven several times now that they're far more cruel than the Grays.

Quickly you force those thoughts back and let your gaze wander around camp. What you need is a distraction, possibly someone to talk to. You could go comfort Abigail again, but you'd better want to give her some space now.

Nothing can ease her mind except for her son's return and that's something you can't provide. As you stand at your tent, you suddenly feel a presence next to you and you turn your head just to face Kieran.

You can't remember if you've ever had a proper conversation with the former O'Driscoll before. All you know about him is what you've heard from Mary-Beth and some of the others. What you definitely know is that she's sweet on him.

Other than that you've noticed that he's an extremely jumpy person, always startled by people approaching him. Another thing is that he's working hard to gain the gang's approval. You recall Arthur telling you about his fishing trip with Kieran once.

"You okay?", you ask, having no idea where your question is coming from. Perhaps it's the concerned look on his expression.

No, you wouldn't quite describe it as concerned. More as afraid.

"I feel so guilty. I mean, I saw the men, but didn't think anythin' of it. Abigail, she..." His sentence trails off and his sad, green eyes are fixed on something in the distance. "Do you think she's mad at me?"

You're not sure what to say to that. It's tough to answer, for sure. Right now it seems like Abigail is mad at everyone and will stay mad at everyone until she has her son back.

"Maybe.", you mutter with crossed arms. "But I also think she's grateful that you at least saw who took him."

You all are lucky that he had paid attention. You can't begin to imagine the havoc if you didn't know where the boy went. Kieran turns his head to look at you. "Do you think we'll have to move again?"

That question can be answered with a rather obvious answer. Shooting up not only one, but two big families in this area ought to alert the law. If no one is on their way now then they sure will be later.

"Yes."

One way or another, the Pinkertons will be back on your trail again. If lady luck is on your side then you might slip away before they find you again like they did back in Horseshoe. A sigh escapes your lips and you stifle a yawn.

The past few weeks have been rough on you. It seems like you're always either on the run or caught up in some fight. Makes you wonder if that's how the outlaw life is in general or if you're going through an exception now.

Maybe it's just a struggle at the moment, because of all that Blackwater disaster or maybe the fight never ends once you turn to this side of the law. Either way, you will make sure to push through it and you feel more ready for that than ever.

"Shouldn't we start packing now then?", Kieran rips you out of your thoughts and you shake your head.

"We can't do anything without Dutch's orders.", you point out.

After your short conversation with him, time moves excruciatingly slowly and there's nothing that could help you make it pass faster. Your mind is occupied with worries and fears and you regularly catch yourself counting the minutes.

By the looks of it, the others don't seem to do any better than you. The only words that are being exchanged are ones of comfort directed towards Abigail. Other than that only the crackling sound of the fireplace in the middle of camp can be heard.

The mood is too low to socialize with anyone, so you find yourself sitting on your bedroll and fidgeting with the very few belongings you own. It's a shame that you've lost yet another gun. After the Schofield has been kicked out of your hands back in Rhodes, you couldn't find the time to look for it.

By the way it's going so far, you're pretty convinced that it's not even there anymore. It's beyond upsetting, really. That revolver was a gift from Arthur after all, but maybe he's willing to accompany you to a gunsmith.

Or if you're lucky then he might have another gun that he isn't using anymore and can spare. The lack of weapons on you makes you feel oddly exposed and only now do you realize how much you miss the weight in your pocket.

Now that you think of it, you should definitely look out for a proper holster as well. This time you can customize it nicely, now that you have the money for that. Perhaps you could also order some engravings on your next gun, depending on the price.

After the bank robbery in Valentine, you've been practically swimming in dollar bills and have yet to spend it on something. When you have the chance you could keep an eye out for new clothes too. You hardly believe that you will ever get the bloody ones completely clean again.

The sound of several horses galloping grabs your attention and you're up on your feet in a matter of heartbeats. Just as anticipated, Dutch and the others are back and everyone rushes towards them.

A wide smile spreads on your face, but it quickly falls once you notice the hardened expression of the men. They look anything but happy and you step aside to let Abigail through.

"Where's my son, Dutch?", she asks with her voice all hoarse from crying.

Dutch avoids her gaze and let's out a defeated sigh. "I'm sorry, Abigail. He wasn't there."

His words make the woman cry out in agony and your arms shoot forward to catch her before she could fall down on her knees. Her body is completely limb in your embrace and you try your damn hardest to support her.

"But we know that he's in Saint Denis.", Hosea calls out from the side, his kind eyes softening as he looks at her. "And we know who has him."

The Braithwaites brought him to Saint Denis? What for? As much as your mind wants to race with thoughts, you focus all your attention on the woman in your arms and you help her get back to her tent.

"He's okay, Abigail. We will go to Saint Denis and get Jack back.", you tell her in a soothing voice, but your words have no effect on her. You doubt that any sort of comfort will have.

After a while she passes out from exhaustion and grief and you climb out of the tent. As you stretch your back, your weary bones crack and you observe your surroundings. It looks like the sun is starting to come back up and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

You were hoping to get at least a handful of hours of sleep tonight, but that won't be happening anytime soon. When even was the last time you had a full night's sleep? It's been too long ago for you to remember.

Even if, you feel too antsy to rest now, let alone lay still. Seems as if you're not the only one, because you spot some of the men sitting around at a table. They're not talking to each other, but rather just staring infront of them with grim faces.

What else would there be to talk about? There's nothing on anyone's mind except Jack. The boy's safety is the gang's top priority at the moment. You walk over to the fire and begin brewing coffee for everyone to keep yourself busy with something.

After you're done, the sun is up entirely now, casting a warm yellow light on Clemens Point. If the circumstances were any different, this would be a beautiful morning. As you quietly sip on your coffee, you overhear Lenny calling out to the men at the table.

"Hey, Dutch! We got a problem!"

Your gaze follows to where his voice is coming from and you see him walking in with two neatly dressed men. Lenny's rifle is raised, pointing right at them and you feel every muscle within you tense up. The Pinkertons have already found you.

Your legs carry you over to Arthur's side, your coffee long forgotten and you stare at the men through narrowed eyes. Their suits look similar to one another, almost as if it's meant to be more of a uniform than a casual outfit. The dismay written on their faces is as clear as the daylight.

"Not a problem.", the one with a clean shaven face says. "Visitors. A solution. Good day, fine people. Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume and...who are you?"

The last question is directed at John, who's standing up from his chair and squaring up his shoulders slightly. His hand, as relaxed as can be, finds it's way to the gun that is holstered to his side. "Rip Van Winkle."

Under any other circumstance you probably would have laughed at his response, but you're too tense and tired to even lift a finger. The man introduces himself as Agent Milton from the Pinkerton Detective Agency and the one beside him as Edgar Ross. You make sure to remember their faces and names very well.

Milton's eyes light up in recognition as they fall on Arthur. "Ah, Mr. Morgan, nice to see you again."

More and more people join you, surrounding the Detectives like vultures stalking their prey. You're pretty certain that if someone would hand you a mirror right now, you'd see that you don't look any different.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?", Dutch asks over his shoulder, not even bothering to stand up. His voice comes out exhausted, clearly tired of the past events the gang has been put through.

Milton ignores the casually thrown in insult. "I don't know if you're aware, but this is a civilized land now. We didn't kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity and basic decency was outmoded or not yet invented. This thing, it's done."

Dutch slowly rises up and steps closer to the agents with his brows furrowed in anger. "This place ain't no such thing as civilized. It's man so in love with greed that he has forgotten himself and found only appetites."

"And as a consequence that let's you take what you please, kill whom you please and hang the rest of us?", Milton argues, becoming louder with each word. "Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you've led so horribly astray?"

The tension in the air could be cut by a pair of scissors and you dearly wish you'd have your Schofield to hold onto now. Something tells you that this conversation is nothing but a railway that leads straight to a cliff and you're sitting in the front row.

"I'm nothin' but a seeker, Mr. Milton.", Dutch snarls with a strained voice and Milton tilts his head in disbelief.

"You ain't much of anythin' than a killer, Mr. Van Der Linde..", the agent calmly states and his eyes roam your group. "But I came to make a deal. You come with me and I give the rest of ya three days to run off, disappear and go live like human beings someplace else."

"You came for me?", Dutch asks in fake awe. "Risked life and limb in this den of lowlifes and murderers so that they might live and love? Ain't that fine?"

A low chuckle can be heard from him and some of the others join in. It does sound ridiculous when he puts it like that.

"I don't wanna kill all these folk, Dutch. Just you." The words come out of Milton like a growl almost and you straighten your back. It feels like any second now there could be a fight breaking out and you want to be ready when that happens.

Strangely enough it doesn't come to that. Instead, Dutch raises his hands in surrender and take a few more steps forward. "In that case, it would be my honor to join you. Excuse me, friends. I have an appointment to keep with-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence as everyone who's armed with a weapon, raises it to point at Milton and Ross. You'd have done the same if you only had one.

Miss Grimshaw is the first and only one to speak up. "I think your friends should leave now, Dutch."

Some of the gang members, including you, nod approvingly after hearing her words and Milton's expression turns into a sour mask. "You're makin' a big mistake. All of you."

Dutch laughs again, but this time it's more mocking. "Yeah, dreadful.", he mutters dryly and unimpressed. "We have got somethin'. Somethin' to live and die for. How awful for us, Mr. Milton. Stop followin' us and we'll be gone soon."

"I'm afraid I can't and when I return I'll be with 50 men.", he declares in a raised voice and gestures towards every single one of you. "All of you will die! Run away from this place, you fools! Run!"

Lenny has heard enough. He grabs the man by his arm and Milton yanks it back as if he got offended. "Get your damn hands off of me, boy.", he hisses through gritted teeth and pushes, together with Ross, his way through the group to leave.

Only after they're out of your sight do you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and you shoulders fall. They were an issue before this already, but now it looks like they're really pissed. It would be a mistake to doubt his promise of showing up with more men.

Your head is spinning while you listen to Dutch and Arthur talk. The rugged outlaw tells the leader something about a house just outside Saint Denis, the city that you're aiming for anyways.

Dutch barks some orders, telling Arthur and John to give the potential new hideout a quick look and asking Lenny to follow the two Pinkerton agents, just to be sure that they actually left. Before the young man can leave for the hitching posts, your fingers brush over his arm briefly and he looks at you.

"Do you maybe want a hand?", you ask, worried about him following the two men all alone. For a while he doesn't say anything, but then he nods and walks over to a wooden crate.

Lenny fishes out a rifle that you recognize as one of the weapons him and Arthur stole from Shady Belle and hands it over to you. "Might need that more than a regular revolver."

You leave the fact that you don't even own a regular revolver anymore unspoken and throw the rifle with the strap over your shoulder. As you mount Penthesilea and follow Lenny out of the camp, you throw one last look over your shoulder towards Arthur.

In the distance you spot the two Pinkertons riding north on horseback and you follow them at a safe distance. "What exactly happened at Rhodes?", Lenny asks, watching you with a curious expression. "Sean said that the entire town came for you guys."

A shiver runs down your spine at the memory and you nod. It sure was a massacre, alright. The stench of blood and gun powder is still very much prominent in your nose. "It was awful. I was over at the Gray's manor and overheard the workers mentioning an ambush."

"What were you doin' there?" He quickly puts up his hands. "Not that I'm accusin' you of anythin'! Micah said-"

"Well, Micah is full of shit.", you interrupt him harsher than you've intended and clear your throat. "I befriended this guy there. Beau. He's in love with this Braithwaite girl, but that's not important right now. I was visiting him to have a chat and that's how I overheard everything."

Lenny hums in understanding and you two fall silent again. It bugs you that Micah is talking behind your back like that. Your curiosity urges you to ask what exactly that man was saying about you, but you decide to better leave it be. Right now you have to focus on keeping an eye on the agents infront of you.

After a while you come to the conclusion that they won't linger to follow the gang, so you turn around again and Lenny leads you to Shady Belle. "You can keep the rifle by the way", Lenny tells you over his shoulder.

Your lips curl up into a grateful smile. "Thanks, that's very nice of you. I kind of lost my gun somewhere the other day."

"The one Arthur gave you?", he asks with a raised brow and you nod. You still have no idea how to break it to the outlaw, but you're almost certain that he won't take any offense.

Nevertheless, you find it a shame to lose a gift from him. It was one of your most treasured items and not only because it keeps you protected. A deep sigh rolls over your lips.

You two arrive almost at the exact same time the gang does and you see Dutch and Arthur talk next to the fountain that is located at the front. The house is huge, almost standing on par with the Gray and Braithwaite manors.

It would be nice to finally have a roof over your head, but you're assuming that not everyone will fit inside. Lenny and you make your way to the leader after hitching your horses and he turns to look at you two. "Any trouble?"

"No, Dutch.", Lenny answers and you step next to Arthur, shooting him a quick smile which he returns.

"Quite the luxurious place you got us.", you comment with a smirk and he let's out a low chuckle. Before he could answer, Dutch turns to him and motions towards his horse.

"Arthur, let's go on a ride.", he says. Arthur nods and goes to mount his Tennessee Walker, but not before brushing his fingers over the back of your hand. The brief, yet soft, touch sends a jolt through your body and you feel your heart pick up in pace.

That's also when you spot a certain red head in the corner of your eyes. Molly rushes over to the men and extends her hand. "Dutch, can we talk for a moment?"

"Not now." With that simple and short answer, they ride off and you watch Molly's expression darken in both pain and disappointment. As much as you would have liked to have a quick word with her, to comfort her maybe, there is no time.

Miss Grimshaw might just rip your head off clean if you don't get to work right about now and help set up the camp. It's a tiring task, but not something you're not used to. By now the movements for setting up the tents come to you as a practiced reflex.

After building half of them up, you stretch your back and wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Clemens Point was a hot place, but the humidity of this spot tops everything. You feel like you're in a sauna. A stinky sauna filled with mosquitoes.

Just as you're about to set up the next tent together with Kieran, you see Miss Grimshaw striding towards you, holding a marge wooden box. She shoves it into your hands and points towards the house. "These are Mr. Morgan's belongings. Would you go and set up the room for him?"

Granted, she voices it as a question, but you know better than to assume it actually is one. "Of course. Where do I put his things?"

"Oh, it's upstairs in the left corner. When you're done with this box, come down here to pick up the rest." The woman doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's already gone off to harass Karen.

The crate is heavy, but you still manage to make it up the stairs and into the room. The house smells moldy and wet and you wonder if it actually would be better to sleep outside. Most of the wallpaper is halfway hanging off the walls or has been removed entirely.

With every step, the wood under you creaks and you push open the door to Arthur's new room with your back. An ear piercing squeak cuts through the air and with a grunt you place the box down. You walk up and down a couple times more until all of Arthur's belongings are inside.

He sure owns a lot of shit.

In a matter of minutes, you finish up the bed and a small corner for him to shave his beard at. The packages with the bullets and other weaponry stuff, you place on a higher up shelf and you push his clothing chest to the far end of his bed.

As you take out some pictures to put on the table, you spot a framed photograph of a familiar woman. Mary Linton is staring back at you and you hold it towards the sunlight, that is falling in through the windows, to get a better look at it.

You wonder how she and her brother are doing. If you'd only knew where she lives, then you could maybe write her a letter. As much as you like the woman, knowing that he still keeps a picture of her, sends a sting through your heart.

Images of seeing them together on the porch and at the train station in Valentine pass by your inner eye. How gentle they were with each other and how their eyes lingered on one another for too long to be claiming that there isn't anything more between them.

An odd, bitter feeling spreads through your chest and it takes you a moment to decipher what it is. Jealousy. Quickly you shake your head to get rid of these thoughts and put the photograph down. There is literally no reason for you to be jealous.

It's not like you're in a relationship with him. Yes, there definitely is something going on between the two of you, but you have no right to claim him. Besides, you remember how fondly Mary has spoken of him and she deserves to be happy after all she has gone through. If that someone ends up being Arthur then so be it.

You idiot. You're acting as if they're engaged, when you don't even know if you will ever see her again.

With a sigh, you continue unpacking and a small white card, falling out of one of the books, grabs your attention. The name on it strikes a cord within you and you quickly put it down.

You knew that Francis had met Arthur. Hell, he even told you about it when you came to him with the journal, but it still feels so weird. Memories of your dear friend flood your mind and you sit down on the edge of the bed.

Ever since you've gotten rid of the device, you haven't really thought about your home or any of your friends and family.

Can't believe I threw that thing into a damn river.

When Francis finds out about that, which he eventually will one way or another, you don't expect that he will be too thrilled about it. What's the worst that can happen though? No one can get to it with it being at the bottom of the river. There is a slight chance that a fish will be send through time though.

"Excuse me. Didn't know my room was bein' occupied.", Arthur jokes and you snap your head up, startled by his sudden appearance.

Quickly you get up from the bed and watch him take off his hat, placing it down on the table. "Miss Grimshaw told me to set it up."

You had no idea that you were taking so long with getting his room ready. It must have been a while of just you staring at his belongings like some creep.

"How did it go with Dutch?", you ask, watching him in curiosity and he takes off his leather jacket. The humidity seems to be affecting him quite a bit as well. Good, you don't want to be the only one sweating like a sinner in a church.

"Fine. We might know where exactly Jack is now.", he answers, leaning against the table and crossing his arms. Your face lights up after hearing the great news. "Dutch, John and I will go there tomorrow 'round noon."

Abigail has been mostly staying holed up in one of the rooms upstairs ever since the gang arrived here and you can't blame her. Her sobs can be heard throughout the entire house. In fact, everyone seems pretty shaken up by the boy's abduction.

Arthur clears his throat, ripping you out of your thoughts. "I was thinkin' we could head into the city in the mornin'. Heard you need a new gun again."

Heat rises up to your face from embarrassment. "Yes, I'm sorry that I lost the one you gave me."

"Nah, 's alright. I'll help you pick out somethin' good.", he says and you shake your head with raised hands.

"It's okay, really. You don't have to go out of your way for me."

Arthur smacks his lips in fake annoyance and takes a step closer to you. His thumbs are hooked into his weapon belt as he takes his usual stance. "It ain't a problem for me. Just wanna make sure a fine lady like you gets a fine gun."

The unexpected compliment makes you laugh and you playfully slap his shoulder with your hand. "Okay, I'll meet you tomorrow at the fountain outside then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

With this you let him get accommodated with his new room and you make your way outside to go look for your own sleeping spot. You could really use some rest now.

Chapter Text

"Mornin'.", Arthur calls out from behind you and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you watch him approach. "How did ya like your first night here?"

After hearing his question, you huff and shake your head. Saying that your first night at the new camp was dreadful is quite an understatement. "I don't know what I hate more. The armada of mosquitoes harassing me or sharing the bed with an alligator."

Your answer earns you a barking laugh from the man and his blue eyes light up in amusement. "Aw, it ain't that bad."

"Says the princess up in the tower. You got it nice with your little room upstairs.", you argue with fake irritation in your tone and wiggle your finger infront of his face. With a cocky smirk, he grabs your hand and gives it a light squeeze, bringing his face a bit closer to yours.

"Lemme make it up to you by gettin' you a fine gun."

As you follow him to the hitching posts, you hastily shake your head. He already lost too much money on helping you buying Penthesilea. You don't think that you can handle it if he pays for a new weapon as well. "Don't spend your money on me again. I got more than enough from the bank job."

The two of you mount your horses and Arthur takes the lead, showing you the way to Saint Denis. "You gotta save that money for somethin' good. Don't worry 'bout me, I get more than enough out here, but you should keep it for the future. For when ya decide to live an honest life."

His words strike a cord in you and you study him from the side. "You think I'll leave the gang behind?", you ask, unable to hide your disbelief. You thought that you have done more than enough to prove your loyalty.

"That's not what I meant.", he answers with a shake of his head and grunts as if he's struggling to find the right words. "I think you deserve a decent life. A good life. Someone like you shouldn't be sleepin' and eatin' amongst the likes of us."

Oddly enough, hearing him say these things kind of offends you. "Arthur, if I wouldn't wanna stay with you, I'd have left already." Your voice comes out harsher than you had intended and he let's out a deep sigh. "But if you think that I don't belong with you then-"

"That ain't what I mean.", he quickly interrupts you and his Tennessee Walker stops in it's tracks. You signal for Penthesilea to halt as well and you come face to face with the outlaw. The upper half is hidden under his cowboy hat which makes it more difficult to guess what's going on in his head.

He clears his throat before opening his mouth again. "You're tough as nails. I don't doubt for a second that you can't protect yourself and I've never seen anyone fit in so quick with a group of lowlives and degenerates like us." Arthur pauses as he contemplates how to say the next part. "But I don't want you to get caught up in this mess. I've seen too many friends die."

"Oh, Arthur.", you mutter with a sigh and run your hand over your face. You understand that he's worried for your safety with everything that's been going on lately. The disaster in Valentine, the Pinkertons, the O'Driscolls and that mess with these two damned families. It's safe to say that you already got caught up in things. "It's a bit too late for that."

Finally he lifts his head and you get a proper glimpse at his face. The concern and internal struggle within him is visible in his eyes and the deep wrinkles on his forehead. Though behind that expression you see that he understands what you mean. Besides, you're not sure if you're even able to ever go back to live a normal life.

There's too much on your soul. Both guilt and blood. Your sins outweigh the good deeds you've done in your life and you don't think that you deserve to go back, but that is something you don't want to face just yet. For now you want to enjoy your morning with Arthur and pay the city a visit.

"We should continue moving.", you suggest and he nods. The silence between you two during the ride is loud and you can't bear the tension anymore. Thankfully Arthur speaks up first.

"Listen, it ain't my intention to hurt you." Before he can continue, you raise your hand.

"I understand. You're just worried." Of course he's worried. So are you, but even if you'd decide to leave one day, you don't believe you can simply take your stuff and disappear. Not without him at least.

If Arthur would ask you to leave with him, you wouldn't hesitate to say yes, but you can't tell him that. You don't want to put any pressure on him by saying you'd only go if he does too. Fighting is all he knows. Even after getting abducted and shot at, he was ready to throw himself right back into it.

"It's just that things are changin'. This is becoming a civilized land and they don't want folk like us no more. You either turn your life around or you hang.", he says and you let his words sink in.

You turn your head to look at him, only to find him staring at you with an unsettling expression. Unspoken words are laying in these blue eyes. Words like 'and I don't want you to hang'. Before your emotions could get the best of you, you whip your head back around and focus on the road.

As you ride into Saint Denis, you can't help but feel like the city is slowly suffocating you. The noises and smells make your head spin and the dark, depressing buildings tower over you almost menacingly. Arthur's lips curl up as he sees your reaction. "Not a big fan, I see?"

"No, I love it. Who doesn't like it when the air reeks of piss and sadness?", you answer, voice oozing with sarcasm. Your statement earns you barking laughter from him.

You would have loved to chat and complain some more, but all your attention is fixed on avoiding running over any pedestrians crossing the street. People around here seem to have forgotten how to use their eyes. There have been too many occasions of someone carelessly stepping infront of your horse and everytime you have to yank back the reigns to avoid turning them into a pancake.

What an efficient, yet terrifying riding exercise this is for you. It sure is strengthening you bond with the Andalusian. After a long while and several heart attacks, you finally get to dismount Penthesilea and enter the gunsmith's with Arthur.

Together you walk up to the counter and he browses through a catalog until he stops at a page with the picture of a handgun. As you lean over to get a better look at it, you see that it's a Volcanic Pistol.

"I was thinkin' of this one. Re-loadin' takes some time, but it has good accuracy.", he tells you and you hum approvingly. The description under the picture sounds good and as much as you liked the Schofield, you definitely want to try something else.

After seeing you nod, Arthur slides the catalog back to the salesman and you go to grab your satchel to take out the money. Suddenly you feel a pair of hands on yours and Arthur shakes his head. "I said I'll pay."

"But-"

"I insist.", he interrupts you with a firm, but yet gentle voice and your arms fall down to your sides. As the outlaw pays for the Pistol, your gaze falls on the wall to your right. A sortiment of different weapon belts with holsters is hanging there and you walk up to it.

"Does the lady see somethin' she likes?", the shopkeeper asks and you pick up a belt that is made out of a dark leather. At first glance it looks to be pitch black, but if the light hits it a certain way, you can see that it's actually brown.

"We'll get the belt too.", Arthur says without hesitation and you don't even try to argue with him this time. You know it's futile to make that man let you pay for yourself once. For an outlaw, he can sometimes be quite the gentleman.

With a new belt around your hips, a gun in the holster and a wide grin on your lips, you leave the store. Arthur looked very pleased when you had put it on back in the store and you feel safe again with the extra weight on your side.

"Thank you so much, Arthur. This means a lot to me.", you say, observing yourself in the reflection of the gunsmith's window. He takes his usual stance where his thumbs are tucked into his belt and you can feel his gaze on you.

Now you're the proud owner of not only one, but two weapons. Lenny was kind enough to let you keep the rifle he gave you yesterday, but you left it under the blanket on your bedroll. No way will you walk around with something like that unless you need it for a job.

"Ah, 's nothin'.", he says, waving it off. Of course he plays it off as not much. He always does. As you meet his gaze, you catch him staring at you and he clears his throat, looking away. "'m afraid I gotta go now."

Right, he mentioned meeting Dutch and John around this time to go talk to the man who has Jack. As much as you don't want this to end, you nod. "I'll see you later in camp then?"

"'Course. Will ya find your way back?", he asks and you feign offense, slapping his shoulder playfully in the process.

"Who do you hold me for?" His concern is understandable and definitely sweet, but you going back to camp is the least of your worries. Especially with a neat new pistol and a horse as competent as Penthesilea.

"You're right, you're right.", he responds, chuckling softly and shaking his head. His hand finds yours and he wraps his rough fingers around it. Every touch from him is so gentle and careful as if you're made out of porcelain and he's scared to break you.

It's such an unusual sight to see a man of his caliber act so tender, almost timid even and it makes your heart flutter. After he let's go of your hand, which happens way too early for your taste, he tips his hat in your direction and mounts his horse to ride off.

The warmth of his skin still lingers on your hand and you can't fight back the grin that is beginning to take form on your face. You hope he makes it back soon.

Just as you're about to hoist yourself onto your own saddle, you hear someone call out to you. The voice sounds familiar and you turn around to face none other than Mary Linton.

Her brown hair is tied up into a low bun and some loose strands fall elegantly over her forehead and around her face, framing it beautifully. A shy smile graces her lips and she has her hands neatly clasped infront of her. Eagerly, you pull her into a hug and let out a surprised, but happy gasp.

"Mary, oh it's so good to see you again!", you say excitedly and she joins in on your laughter. "How are you? How's your brother?"

"We're both well. He's at home, safe and far away from these Chelonians.", she answers with a relieved sigh escaping her. Then she's shaking her head as if to get rid of some thoughts and locks eyes with you again. "Are you free by any chance? I'd love to sit down with you and talk some more."

There's nothing specific you have to do at the moment and you don't like the prospect of returning back to camp already. You have no leads to follow or jobs to do and you're not exactly excited to do any of the tasks Miss Grimshaw usually loads on your shoulder.

"I'd love to.", you answer without hesitation and she shows you a saloon close by. It's a tidy place filled with fashionably dressed customers. All high society people. It makes you feel out of place with your dust covered clothes and a worn out summer coat that has seen better days.

At the counter, Mary orders two sherrys for you and as you reach for your satchel to pay, she extends her hand to stop you. "It's on me. As a thank you for helpin' me with Jamie."

There is no arguing with her about that. Her soft, yet stern eyes make it more than clear and after getting the drinks, you choose to sit at a table in the far left corner. The sherry tastes like nothing you've had back in camp or in the other saloons in Valentine and Rhodes before.

It's intense and sweet in a refreshing way. Maybe you should go out with Mary Linton a lot more if it's going to be like this everytime. Judging by her appearance, she seems to be doing way better than last time you saw her.

"I saw you and Arthur leave the gunsmith together. So you're still ridin' with the others?", she asks, studying your face with her brown eyes. There is something in her expression that you can't quite decipher, an emotion you can't place.

"That's right." Your answer comes out short, not wanting to spill too much information out here in public. This time she may not have mentioned Dutch, but you don't want to say anything that could give the wrong people a hint. There has been a lot of noise from the gang lately.

She nods at your words, pulling her eyebrows together ever so slightly. "I can see it on you. You've changed a lot since Valentine."

That statement surprises you and you take a sip from the sherry. Is it really that obvious? Well, it can't be too far fetched that your actions may have cast a certain shadow over you. The things you've done and went through tend to change folk.

"I guess.", you respond, lost in thoughts as you replay her words in your mind over and over again. "But what are you doing here?" You'd welcome a change of topic.

"Oh, just for some family business. Nothin' serious." There is something odd about the way she says it. It gives you the feeling that there is more that she isn't telling you, but you decide it would be better to leave it be. If she'd want you to know than she will share it on her own. "How is Arthur doin'?"

The question catches you off-guard when it really shouldn't. Of course she'd want to know how he is. "He's good. A moron still, but good."

Your response gets a chuckle out of her, but it quickly turns into a melancholic sigh. Sadness falls over her soft features and she tugs some of the loose hair strands behind her ear. "When I talked to him back in Valentine. Everythin' came back up, you see? I started thinkin' and dreamin' and askin' myself if he's still the same man he was all these years ago or if he's able to change now."

The longer she talks, the tighter your throat becomes. Not even the alcohol from the sherry is able to loosen you up or maybe you simply need something stronger. To avoid answering, you take another sip and then another until the glass is completely empty.

You recall the thoughts you had yesterday when you prepped Arthur's room. How you told yourself that you have no right to claim him and that you'd be happy either way. Who were you trying to fool back then? Listening to the woman now, it hurts. Clearly she still harbors deep feelings for him and even though you and Arthur have grown extremely close, you don't know if his feelings for her are gone.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be layin' all this on you.", Mary rips you out of your thoughts and you hastily shake your head.

"It's alright. Don't worry." You like the woman. You really do. She's sweet and kind and has always been nothing but nice to you, even though she doesn't know you particularly well.

You chat a bit longer with her, avoiding talking about Arthur and their shared past. She tells you about how her brother, Jamie, is talking about attending college and the different ones they've been looking at. The two of you share another drink until she gets up from the chair, saying she should head to the hotel she's staying at.

"Where is it? I'll give you a ride there.", you offer, getting up from your seat as well and she shakes her head.

"There is no need for that, I-"

"No, you paid for the drinks. The least I can do is make sure you get there safe.", you insist and her lips curl up ever so slightly as she admits defeat. Together you leave the saloon and walk to where your horse is hitched.

"What a beautiful mare.", Mary comments, extending her hand carefully to pet Penthesilea and you puff out your chest in pride.

"She is quite a beauty, isn't she? Arthur helped me pick that one out."

"He always knew a lot about horses." If he hadn't chosen the outlaw life then maybe he would have become a fine stable owner. Horses do have a calming effect on him. He always seems so content and in another world whenever you watch him care for them in camp.

After you mount your Andalusian, you offer your hand to Mary to help her up which she takes with a soft 'thank you'. It's making you a tad nervous having to ride through Saint Denis by yourself now and navigating through the chaos that is the traffic. You're doing an excellent job though.

There is still a pedestrian here and there who you miss at first glance, but other than that it's going pretty well. Soon you arrive at Hotel Grand, where Mary is staying at, and you hitch your horse a couple buildings down the street.

"Hey, pretty ladies.", a drunk man calls out to you and Mary gives you a worried look. With a shake of your head, you indicate to her that it's best to ignore him. Perhaps he will go away on his own if you don't pay him any mind.

Just as you want to continue walking, you feel a hand grab you by the shoulder and turn you harshly around. The stench of alcohol hits you in the face like a freight train and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "I was talkin' to ya, ladies!"

"And we weren't listening.", you answer in a matter of fact way and break free from his grip. The man's expression darkens as his half lidded eyes roam over both your figures and you protectively step infront of Mary. She isn't the one with a weapon, so she should stay behind you.

A sinister grin spreads on his face, revealing a set of yellow and black teeth. The smell only gets worse from that and you try to wave it away with your hand. "I don't take no for an answer."

Without hesitation you pull your coat aside, revealing your Pistol and place your hand on the handle. A shadow falls over your face as you stare the man down with murderous intent. "Do you take bullets to your head then?"

Your voice comes out colder than expected, but nevertheless, it's getting the result you were aiming for. The moment he lays his eyes on the gun, he quickly lifts both hands. "I'm not lookin' for any trouble, miss."

"Then don't run around causing it and piss off." With that, the man stumbles into the opposite direction and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. As much as you're not afraid of these types of people anymore, confrontation still fills you with anxiety. Especially if it's as public as this.

"You handled him well.", Mary speaks up and you turn around to meet her gaze. "You sounded just like Arthur." That's not too far fetched if you think about how much time you spend with the outlaw. It's only natural that you pick a up a thing or two.

"Are you alright?", you ask, giving her a quick look over. Obviously no one got hurt, but you don't want to leave her alone at the hotel if she's shaken up. Luckily that doesn't seem to be the case and then you remember that she used to hang around with the gang as well. It's probably nothing new for her.

"I'm fine, thanks to you.", she answers with a smile and you walk her the last bit towards the hotel. Infront of the entrance, she pulls you in for a tight hug and you say your goodbyes.

The way back is a lot less eventful and you arrive back home late in the afternoon. There isn't a lot to do around camp and judging by Abigail's cries, Dutch and the others haven't returned yet. Even as the sun begins to set, there still is no sign of the men.

You pass the time by talking to Sadie and showing her the Volcanic Pistol Arthur got you. With an impressed nod, she turns the weapon in her hand, inspect it thoroughly. "That man is spoilin' ya."

"He's just being nice.", you deflect with a wave of your hand and you hear someone let out a huff. Uncle sits up from his bedroll with barking laughter.

"Arthur wouldn't buy a dying man a beer! That man is as charming as a starving alligator.", he points out, amused and shakes his head. To you, Arthur is one of the kindest people you have ever met. Not to others, but to you.

Suddenly a shout can be heard from the front of the house. "Abigail!"

You recognize Dutch's deep voice immediately and you jump up to your feet to run over to them. And there they are with Jack by John's side and Abigail comes bolting out through the front door. The woman gasps as her gaze falls on the boy and she sweeps him up into a tight hug.

The entire camp seems to be sighing in relief and you can feel the mood lighten up again. Jack's absence has been laying heavy on everyone and now you're all allowed to take a deep breath again.

You lock eyes with Arthur who is staying behind, a lit cigarette between his lips. Should you perhaps tell him about your encounter with his ex-fiancé? No, not now. Tonight you should focus on celebrating Jack's return.

The gang gathers around a fire and Javier starts playing a cheerful tune on his guitar. As you sit down on one of the crates, you feel a warm presence behind you and you tilt your head up, meeting Arthur's gaze. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and he places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Javier begins to sing and you sway in sync with the melody. The others join in on the chorus, but it's loud and without any coordination. Still, it makes you grin to the point where your cheeks hurt and you chuckle to yourself.

You reach up for Arthur's hand and you intertwine your fingers with his. His skin is rough from hard, yearlong work, a vast contrast to how soft and comforting his touch is.

After the song ends, Abigail, John and Jack retreat back to the house to catch up on the time they had spend apart. You feel Arthur leave you as well and you catch your body leaning back automatically, longing for his presence. Shortly after though, he returns with a bottle in his hand and moves one of the other crates closer to you for him to sit down on.

"You want some?", he asks in a low voice, hoarse from all the years of smoking. With a smile you take the bottle from him and take a swig. It's nothing like the smooth and sweet sherry Mary has given you. This one goes down your throat like acid and you force down a coughing that is building up in your throat.

Javier continues playing music and hums softly along. A strong arm wraps itself around your shoulders and you lean against Arthur's broad figure. The crackling of the firewood and the effect of the alcohol, make you sleepy and you fight to keep your eyes open.

Or maybe it's the fact that for the first time in a very long time, you feel safe for once. If you could you'd stay in this position forever.

Chapter Text

The next morning you feel lighter than ever and there is a certain spring to your step. A wide grin is glued to your face and it only gets bigger everytime you recall the events from last night. Sitting by the campfire with Arthur and having his arm wrapped around you is about the only thing you can think of at the moment.

"Someone's happy.", you hear Mary-Beth say with a smile. She's sitting comfortably on her bedroll, an opened novel in her lap. Her brown locks fall elegantly around her face, framing her soft features.

Karen isn't too far away either and she places her hands on her hips as she eyes you with a knowing smirk. "'Course she is! Shoulda seen her gettin' all cozy with Arthur last night durin' the party."

"Oh, I saw that, alright.", Mary-Beth confirms and clasps her hand over her mouth to mask the giggle escaping her. "I knew it from the start that they was sweet on one another."

The two women's teasing makes the heat rise up to your face and you shake your head in disbelief. You know better than to indulge their banter and you wave your hand at them. "As lovely as it is chatting with you, I gotta go now."

"Aw, don't be like that! Tell us all the juicy details at least!", Karen yells after you, but you ignore her completely. Yes, last night's actions confirmed that there is more going on between you and the outlaw, other than pure platonic feelings.

It also kind of feels like that his public show of affection kind of established something, but you don't want to jump to any conclusions. As official as it feels right now, you don't want to set any rumors free into the world as long as you haven't talked to him about what exactly you are.

Leaving camp was also not an excuse to get out of that uncomfortable conversation. Yesterday you didn't have the opportunity to get engravings for your new weapon and so you thought it would be good to get it done now. After Jack's return and the party, everyone is kind of slow and lazy today, so you won't be missed too much.

Mounting Penthesilea, you leave the camp and ride through the heavy morning fog. With this weather, it will take longer to reach the city, but that also means that there might not be too many people on the road.

So far it does look very empty and everything seems peaceful until you spot two men on the side of the road who are headed into the trees. Usually you wouldn't pay them any mind, but the green bandana around their necks makes your inner alarm bells ring.

Sure, any and every fool can wear that ugly shade, but you've never seen it on common folk. The wet dirt road dampens the sound of your horse's hooves and thanks to the fog, they haven't noticed you passing by. There is a slim chance that these men are just two ordinary people, but you want to make sure. Just in case.

You hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees and follow them on foot. The crouched position you're in makes your thigh muscles burn and your back cramp up slightly, but you fight through the pain.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't have ambushed them last night.", one of them says in a thick Irish accent. So they are O'Driscolls, but what are they doing here in Lemoyne? This isn't their territory at all.

"You heard the boss. We was to only get that two-faced traitor.", the other responds and you watch him disappear between the shrubs, leaving his partner behind. "I'll just take a piss."

"For Christ's sake.", the first one mutters aggravated and walks a few steps away from your hiding spot. Their words spin around in your head. Obviously they are talking about ambushing Dutch and the gang, but you have no idea who the traitor could be.

That's when you remember that you in fact do have a former O'Driscoll with you and now that you think about it, you don't remember seeing him after the party. Usually he's one of the first people to be up and about in the morning. We'll, there is only one way to find out.

Quietly you take your gun out of your holster and sneak up behind the first man. You ram the handle of your pistol into the back of his head and he falls into the mud with a wet sound.

One down, another to go.

"What the hell?!" You whip your body around, facing the man who re-apeared from the bushes without you noticing. While he fumbles to get the gun out of his holster, you lift the Volcanic and pull the trigger.

It's a clean shot through his chest and he comes down to his knees with a gurgling sound emanating from his throat. You really hope that no one has heard the gun shot, but there's no one living close by and the roads are quite empty today anyways.

Quickly you jog back to Penthesilea to get a rope and return to tie the unconscious O'Driscoll to one of the trees. You have to take care of the body as well, but that will have to wait. With a slap with the back of your hand, you wake the O'Driscoll up and he gasps.

"Fuckin' hell-" His words die down in his throat as you point the barrel of your pistol right between his eyes.

"What did you assholes do in our camp last night?", you ask, your voice cold and controlled. His gaze is fixed on your gun and he bares his teeth like a dog.

"None of your damn business.", he snarls and you strike him with your weapon. The man grunts in pain and blood runs down his face from the now open wound on his eyebrow. Your patience is wearing thin and you're not sure if you have the stomach to full on torture him.

Hopefully he will spill the answers willingly before it has to come to that. "I won't ask again."

The man's chest rises and falls heavily as he pants and he glares hateful daggers at you. A sigh escapes your lips as you step aside so he can have a clear view on his dead partner. A dark red puddle is beginning to form under him.

"Your friend over here also refused to give me answers.", you lie. Maybe intimidating him by threatening with death will do the trick. Anything is welcome as long as you don't have to take more violent and drastic measures. His eyes go wide once they fall on the other man and he shakes his head hastily.

"We was only to kidnap one man! That's all!", he cries out in panic and you push the barrel of your gun harshly against his temple.

"Kidnap who?"

"K-Kieran! Kieran Duffy!"

So you remember correctly! He indeed wasn't anywhere at the camp this morning. A sting of guilt pierces your chest at the fact that you didn't notice it sooner, but then again, the others didn't catch wind of it either. It's no use to beat yourself up over this right now though. What you need to focus on is getting him back.

"Where are you keeping him?", you ask, your gaze fixed on the man under you.

"I don't know!", he exclaims, rather desperate. Too desperate to be convincing and your expression turns sour. "And even if, he's probably dead by now or at least wishes that he is!"

"Don't play stupid with me now, boy. Do you wanna end up with a bullet in your head?" It's as if the words that are coming out of your mouth aren't yours, as if someone else is speaking through you. You're spending way too much time with outlaws.

To give your threat more weight, you disable the safety of your pistol and a high pitched click can be heard from it. The sound makes the O'Driscoll flinch and all resistance crumbles away like ashes being carried away by the wind. "Okay, okay, okay!"

He drops the location of their camp, including the exact spot Kieran is being held at and how many men are guarding him. This moron proves himself pretty cooperative with the right motivation.

Just as you're sliding your gun back into the holster and turn to walk away, he yells for you. "You can't just leave me here! Untie me!"

Letting him go would be a mistake. He'd either ambush you or run straight back to the others to warn them and then all your hard work was for nothing. But you don't want to kill him. It's your personal rule to only do that in self defense and well, he's tied up.

If you just leave him at the tree, then he will scream and curse until someone finds him which probably won't take too long. This spot is quite close to the road after all. After contemplating it for a few seconds, you grab a handkerchief from your pocket and shove it deep into his throat. He throws his head from side to side in a futile attempt to stop you.

The man let's out muffled grunts as you walk back to Penthesilea and you hoist yourself up onto the saddle. If anything he said is true, then you don't think you have the time to ride back to camp and get a group together to join you on your rescue mission. Knowing the O'Driscolls, they don't tend to show mercy, so you have to act fast.

You signal your horse to ride towards the location the man told you about and truly, there is a fire burning. It seems to be a camp and you hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees nearby. Finding yourself in a crouched position once again, you sneak closer, keeping watch for anyone coming your way.

Soon enough, you spot Kieran tied to a tree with his hands on his back and his head hanging down. It doesn't look like he's awake or maybe he's simply too weak to keep his head up. That's when you notice the alarming amount of dried up blood on his white shirt and your heart picks up in pace.

Thankfully, the fog provides more than enough cover, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to do this during daytime and you really didn't like the prospect of having to wait until nightfall. With a hunting knife in your hand, you begin to cut through the thick rope and Kieran finally lifts his head.

"What...?", he mutters and looks around until he sees you. A shiver runs down your spine the moment you catch a glimpse of his face and your mouth stands open in shock. One eye of his is completely missing and you fight down the urge to let out a startled yelp.

"Oh, what have these animals done to you?", you whisper horrified and you force your attention back to cutting him free. It only takes a couple seconds, but to you it feels more like several minutes.

Every muscle in your body is tensed up and your heart is practically beating in your throat. If you get caught now...quickly, you shake off these thoughts and grab Kieran's wrist to wrap his arm around your shoulders. While he leans on you as support, you stumble back to Penthesilea, undetected.

"You really came for me?", Kieran asks breathlessly in disbelief and you bite down on the inside of your cheek. You leave the fact that you didn't even notice his absence at first, unspoken.

"Of course.", is all you manage to bring out instead and you both climb ontop of your horse's back.

He clings to your coat like a lifeline and sways around so much that you have to be careful with speeding up. If you go too fast, he might just fall off. After a while, the silence becomes too unbearing for you and you ask the question that's been bugging you this entire ride. "How did they even get to you?"

Kieran doesn't respond at first and for a moment there you worry that he actually did fall off somewhere along the road. "I ain't so sure. I was piss drunk durin' the party last night."

You nod to yourself when hearing his words. You recall how later that night he came up to Arthur, telling him how happy he is to be a part of the gang. It makes you feel all the more guilty for not noticing that he was missing this morning.

People throw you puzzled looks as you get close to Shady Belle and enter the camp. Kieran almost slides off Penthesilea and you have to offer both your hands to him to help him down. Steps can be heard approaching you from behind and once the man is down, you turn around.

"My goodness, what happened?", Mary-Beth gasps in worry, but her expression quickly turns into one of horror the moment she gets a proper look at Kieran's face.

"Get bandages from Strauss' wagon and bring us some water.", you order without answering her question and bring Kieran to his tent.

As Mary-Beth returns with the things, more people join around you in curiosity and concern. Bill is the first to speak up. "What the hell happened to him?"

"The O'Driscolls got him last night. Overheard two of them talking on my way to Saint Denis.", you tell him over your shoulder as you focus on treating the man's eye or rather the lack of it.

"The O'Driscolls were here?", Javier exclaims, almost in disgust and hisses some insults and cursewords under his breath.

After your work is done, you get up from your position and go wash your hands in a barrel filled with water. Soon Dutch takes notice of the commotion outside and steps out of the house, demanding to know what's going on. You fill him in on what happened from when you left camp to now and he nods with a grim look on his face.

"That poor bastard.", he comments with his gaze set on Kieran's tent. Most of the people have left to give him some space, but others like Mary-Beth are staying behind, watching over him. "You did good bringin' him back to us. Well done."

"Thanks." Your answer comes out short and you place your hands on the edge of the barrel, observing your reflexion. The woman staring back at you has dark rings around her eyes and a few blood splatters across her face. It's like looking at a stranger.

A new presence shows up beside you, less welcoming than Dutch's and you don't even want to turn your head in their direction. Micah leans with his back against the wall of the large house and spits on the ground. "Ain't you the hero of the day again?"

"What do you want, Micah?", you ask, wanting to sound irritated or at least mildly annoyed, but there is nothing besides exhaustion in your voice. The man snorts.

"Ain't it funny how you somehow always manage to arrive right on time? Somethin' goes to shit and you're right there to save the day. Ain't that convenient?" His words are oozing with both venom and suspicion and you close your heavy eyes.

"Are you trying to say something or are you just talking nonsense?" A voice inside your head is telling you to back off, that this isn't a battle you should be fighting, but you're tired.

The energy from this morning has left you entirely by now and this conversation is only making things worse for you. Micah raises his hands and pushes himself off the wall. "Nah, just statin' what I'm seein', is all."

With these words he finally leaves you alone and you make your way to your tent. Perhaps your accomplishment of bringing back a gang member from the clutches of the O'Driscoll will get people off your back. That way you could rest for an hour or so without anyone complaining.

Before you even make it to your bedroll, you hear the quick sound of hooves approaching and you look up to see Arthur, Miss Grimshaw and Tilly. The first two look quite angry and so does Tilly, but she seems to be a bit shaken up as well.

Curiosity gets the better of you and your legs carry you to the small group. "What happened?"

"Anthony Foreman, that bastard.", Tilly snarls, spitting her words out like venom. You remember her mentioning him and his gang a while ago, telling you that she used to ride with them. She didn't say how they fell out, only that it happened.

"They took her.", Miss Grimshaw adds and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This is the second abduction for today and you shake your head at the realization. Seems like getting kidnapped is more common in this line of work than ending up with a bullet in your chest.

It also seems like the security around here should be improved. No way should this many gangs be able to just waltz in here and snatch people away without anyone catching wind of it. Your worried gaze is set on Tilly and you pull her into a hug. "I'm happy that you got out of there."

"Me too...me too.", she mutters in a low voice and slowly pulls away from the embrace.

As the two women make their way towards the tents, you feel Arthur's warm hand on your back. "You don't look too well."

A dry laugh escapes you and you give him a smirk that doesn't reach your eyes. "Well, aren't you a charmer?"

Your response earns a low chuckle from him and he starts rubbing circles on your back. "You know that wasn't what I meant." Of course you know, but you have no idea where to begin.

You repeat to him what you've been telling everyone else, but intentionally leave out the last bit with Micah. There is no reason to pit Arthur against the man at the moment and you'd appreciate a little break.

Being as exhausted as you are makes you feel bad. Kieran is the one who got kidnapped and not you. He went through a shit ton of pain and you don't feel like you deserve to feel this tired. A sigh escapes your lips as you rub your eyes with the palm of your hand.

"You should lay down." Arthur's words get another dry chuckle out of you and you shake your head. Yes, it was your plan to lay down on your bedroll, but you don't know how much rest that will bring you with everyone being out and about. "I don't know if I can."

"How about a bed? A real one.", the outlaw suggests and you raise your eyebrow in disbelief as if he just told you a dumb joke.

"I don't really feel like booking a hotel room just for a nap is a good idea.", you answer and cross your arms infront of your chest.

He takes off his hat, revealing his hazel colored hair and runs a hand through it. "I was thinkin' that you could use mine."

Now that comes as a surprise to you and your arms fall down to your sides, but you catch yourself quickly. A teasing smirk begins to take form on your lips. "Mr. Morgan! Are you trying to get under my skirt?"

Barking laughter erupts from his throat and he raises his hands in defence. "That weren't what I meant. I thought maybe you'd wanna rest in it, away from all the noise."

His offer is sweet and you're about to take it as well until Karen walks up to you from the side with some paper in her hand. "I got a letter from Mary Linton here."

"Mary?", Arthur asks in disbelief and goes to grab the letter, but Karen snatches it away. Both you and the outlaw look at her with puzzled expressions which only intensifies after she holds it out to you instead.

"It's for me?", you confirm with furrowed brows and slowly take the letter from her, afraid she might snatch it away again. When she doesn't, you read the name on the envelope and yes. It is in fact addressed to you.

As Karen leaves, Arthur steps closer to you, searching for your gaze. His eyes keep flickering from you to the letter and then back to you. "What does Mary want from you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I saw her the other day in Saint Denis."

"She's in Saint Denis?", he exclaims, almost interrupting you and runs his hand over his beard. "When?"

You study him thoroughly, trying to read the meaning behind his tone and expression, but you can't decipher it. Clearly he's quite floored, but you can't tell if it's in a good or bad way. "Right after you left the gunsmith. Her and I went for a drink."

"So y'all are friends now? Since when?"

His question makes you take a step back and the corners of your mouth curl up. "Are you worried or something?"

Arthur's answer comes shooting out like a bullet and it's as clear as daylight that he did not intend to do that. "No!" He takes a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and putting on a casual mask. "'Course not. I don't care 'bout the company you keep."

"Sure." You drag out the word as long as you can, you're voice oozing with sarcasm. Then your gaze falls on the letter in your hand again. "Do you want to know what's in there?"

It's obvious that he's beyond curious about the contents of her letter. It's written all over him, but much to your surprise, he shakes his head. "No, 's alright. This is your business and I won't stick my nose into it. Not more than I already do."

"I'm serious, Arthur. I really wouldn't mind."

"I'm serious too." His features are relaxed, not betraying a single thought or emotion. His eyes on the other hand tell a different story. You can see that there's a conflict within him, but can you blame him? You too would be quite stunned if an ex of yours would suddenly write to him.

Mainly because they exist several years in the future from now and it would be quite the astonishing news, finding out that they can travel through time as well. Arthur places his hat back on his head and tips it in your direction. "I'll leave ya to it then."

Before you can even think of protesting, he walks away and with a sigh you go to find a quiet spot to read. The handwriting inside is just as delicate as the one on the envelope and your eyes trail over the words.

My dear friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for helping me with Jamie and for the nice chat we had at the saloon. It was very kind of you to walk me back to the hotel. I just wish that the reason for this letter was a happier one.

You might have noticed during our conversation that something was troubling  me and seeing how you handled the drunk man made me want to confide in you. I am certain that you're very capable and can handle yourself.

I am afraid that we have got ourselves into another mess. It's not my fault, but I need your help. Could you meet me at Hotel Grand when you have the time?

Sincerely,
Mary

Chapter Text

With Mary's letter in your pocket, you sit at the front porch of the house, cleaning your pistol. Yesterday when Karen had given it to you, you didn't have the energy to head into Saint Denis and meet the woman at the hotel. If she needs your help for something important then you want to be rested.

And the reason why you're sitting at the front porch is because you're waiting to run into Arthur. While Mary didn't say that you should bring him along, she also didn't state that you're not allowed to take him with you. By the sound of the letter, it kind of seems like she's more in need of a gun than a friend since she mentioned how well you scared off the drunk guy.

So having the outlaw with you would ease your mind about any potential danger, but who knows if he even wants to join you. He did seem quite shaken up when he met her back in Valentine. Nevertheless, he still helped her.

The front door opens, startling you slightly and a familiar figure steps through it. The moment Arthur's eyes land on you, he takes off his hat and nods at you as a greeting. "Mornin'."

"Good morning, Arthur.", you respond with a soft smile and his own lips curl up in return. As he leans against a pillar and lights up a cigarette, he looks down at you and raises an eyebrow.

"You doin' alright? You seem strange, but then again you're always strange.", he asks, earning a dry chuckle from you. With a roll of your eyes, you lean forward in your chair and give his side a playful smack.

"Real funny, Mr. Morgan." You shake your head and slide the Pistol back into the holster before meeting his gaze again. "There's actually something I want to ask you."

"'Course. What is it?"

A hum escapes you as you contemplate your next words. Your hand wanders to the inner chest pocket of your coat where the letter is. "It's about Mary. She's asking for my help and-"

"And you want me to tag along.", Arthur finishes your sentence and you nod. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette before breathing out a cloud of smoke through his nose. "I don't know."

"It sounded important.", you quickly argue and stand up from your chair. "It sounded like she's in trouble or something. Arthur, please."

The last word you say with a more urgent tone and pull together your eyebrows as you stare him down. His resistance begins to crumble and a grim shadow falls over his face. "Don't gimme that look. Just 'cause you bat your lashes at me and say my name like that, you think I'll jump at your command?"

That's not the way you'd have said it, but he's not entirely wrong. It's more than obvious now that he has a soft spot for you and you might or might not be using that to your advantage with this. After a while of you just looking at each other, he let's out a sigh and puts out the cigarette.

"When are we leavin'?" You fight back a victorious grin at his words and jump down the stairs of the porch.

"I was thinking right now.", you answer and without any more of his complaining, he follows you to the horses. Together you make your way towards Saint Denis and most of the ride passes by in silence.

"Now, just 'cause I said yes this once don't mean I can't say no to you. Understand?", Arthur speaks up and you bite down on your lips to prevent the smirk that is threatening to take form on your face.

Without looking in his direction, worried that your expression might betray you, you answer. "Of course, Arthur."

A chuckle escapes you at the end of the sentence and in the corner of your eyes, you see him shaking his head with a soft smile. Honestly, you don't even remember the last time he said no to you about anything.

Once you reach the hotel, you hear a familiar voice call out to you and you lift your head. Mary is standing at the balcony with a wide smile and waves at you excitedly. "You came! Wait right there! I'll come down in a moment!"

Arthur and you get off your horses and hitch them at the side of the road after she disappears into the building. Only a few seconds later, she comes out rushing through the front door and wraps her arms around you. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too.", you say, returning the hug and smile she's offering to you. Then her eyes land on Arthur and her entire face lights up in delight. It evokes a bundle of mixed feelings within you.

"Arthur, you came as well!", she exclaims and takes a few steps closer to him as if she wants to pull him into a hug as well, but her arms remain by her side.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with me bringing him along.", you start after clearing your throat and she shakes her head hastily.

"No, I'm glad he came. It's a bit...well, the situation is that..." For a few more seconds, she continues struggling to find the right words until she let's out a defeated sigh. "Daddy..."

Arthur and you exchange knowing looks and he mutters an 'of course' under his breath. With a shake of his head, he turns his back towards the woman and runs his hand over his beard. "We're wastin' our time here."

Mary's eyes go wide after she hears him say that and she steps closer to him. "I know Daddy wasn't kind to you, but surely you can't hate a man for the sin of lovin' his daughter and wantin' better for her than..."

She struggles with finishing her sentence and Arthur turns around on his heels to face her. His expression is filled with anger and shock. "Than me?"

"Than the choices you make!", she counters, faster than a bullet, but her words seem to make the man only more outraged.

"What choice did I have? Did I ever have?", he argues, growing louder and earning disturbed looks from some of the people closeby. The scene these two are causing out here on the street fills you with embarrassment and if it continues on like that, you won't get anywhere.

Yes, you were the one Mary wrote to, but now you feel more like the third wheel here. With an irritated grunt, you go in between them and throw annoyed looks in their direction. "That's enough.", you demand with a tone that doesn't tolerate any protest and you turn to Mary. "What is it with your father?"

Much to your relief and appreciation, Arthur stays silent even though his expression makes it more than clear that he has a snappy comment for your question. Mary let's out a sigh and avoids your gaze. "Gamblin', drinkin' and all sorts of other things. He said be was goin' down to the Theodore Eckhart stables. Somethin' 'bout a horse. It's down by the water in the warehouse district near the train yard."

"No. Not a chance.", Arthur chimes in almost immediately and both her and you give him strange looks. "I know the kind of trouble he gets himself into."

With that he motions for you to follow him back to your horses and you grab him by his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. "What has gotten into you? We said we'd help her."

"That man keeps nasty company. If you get hurt 'cause of him..." He doesn't finish and you take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I will be fine. You know that I can take care of myself if it gets bad. I'm like a cornered tiger." Your quote from Pearson gets an involuntary chuckle out of him and you smile. Slowly, his resistance crumbles away and he nods to himself.

With a victorious grin you turn to Mary, noticing a weird look in her expression. Before you can decipher what it means, it vanishes and she mounts Penthesilea with you. Together you follow Arthur to the warehouse district.

That entire time, you can feel a strange tension in the air and Mary's silence feels oddly heavy. You make a mental note to yourself to ask her about it later when the opportunity arises. Once at the stables, all three of you jump down onto your feet and you cross the street towards the entrance.

"I'll head in myself to see what state he's in.", she says with both hands on the handle and you gently place yours on her shoulder.

"I can come with you.", you offer and she thinks for a short while before nodding. Arthur stays outside while you and her enter the building. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that's about to unfold infront of you.

There's a man, who you assume is Mary's father from the fine clothes he's wearing, and describing him as drunk is an absolute understatement. The entire place reeks of alcohol and you wrinkle your nose at the stench. His face is flushed and he's grumbling incoherent sentences to himself.

The stable owner, who stands only a few feet away from him, looks like he's about to smack the ever living shit out of him with the broom in his hands. Mary is at her father's side almost immediately. "Daddy!"

A bit too harsh for your taste, he pushes her off him and points his finger at her. "You! What in the nine hells are you doin' here?"

Completely ignoring his question, she is by his side again and wraps her arms around his. A pleading look is on her face as she tries to drag him out of the stables, but he breaks free from her hold. With a huff, he dashes through the front door. Mary and you are closely following behind him.

"I have half a mind to kill you myself!", he yells at his daughter and your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. Arthur really wasn't kidding about that man.

"Daddy.", Mary responds heartbroken and a veil of hurt falls over her. If you weren't such good friends with her then you'd probably have decked him, but something tells you that would only upset her more. "Daddy, come home! You're tired!"

"I am no such thing! You get away from me, head home! I insist upon it!", he yells while waving his hands frantically around and hastily walking away. "Damn nuisance."

The interaction makes you sad, really and you feel Arthur's presence next to you as Mary turns around to look at you. "Still as charmin' as ever, I see.", Arthur comments, but she ignores it.

Her eyebrows are furrowed in concern and her hands are neatly clasped together infront of her. Even in situations like this she manages to look like she jumped straight out of a book. "He's up to no good. We better follow him."

The three of you keep a safe distance from the man, but he's had enough drinks that you could be walking right next to him and he wouldn't notice. Aimlessly, he stumbles through the streets, bumping into one person after another.

After crossing the road a few times and passing through alleyways that reek of piss and rat shit, he stops behind a building and takes out a small object that you can't make out from this distance.

"What do you think he's doin'?", Mary whispers in a concerned tone and furrows her eyebrows together.

"Well, he could be waitin' for a woman of dubious morals.", Arthur answers, making the crease on her forehead deeper and you reassuringly place your hand on her shoulder.

As your gazes meet, you give her a soothing smile. "Or he's just trying to sell something.", you chime in, which could be true. Whatever he's holding in his hands, he might be trying to get some money off of it. It doesn't sound too far fetched.

Another man comes out of the building, tall and thin to the point where you're pretty sure that the smallest gust of wind could send him flying like a napkin. "Ashton.", Mr. Gillis greets him. "Have you got the money?"

So you were right with your assumption, but just what is he selling? An object so small can't be of much value can it? Well, if you could get a better look at it then you'd know. "Have you got the brooch, Mr. Gillis?"

He hands over the object and the thin man holds it up in the air to get a better look at it. In the corner of your eyes you see how Mary's face contorts into an angry grimace. Seems as if the brooch is not only valuable regarding the price but in sentiment as well.

"That is mother's brooch.", Mary hisses through gritted teeth. The words come out of her like venom and Arthur puts up his hands.

"It's just a brooch.", he says in an attempt to calm her down, but you don't think that anything can at this point. She looks absolutely furious, livid even and you're afraid that it might escalate.

With an irritated huff and a shadow cast over her soft features, she stomps over to her father. Her shoulders are squared up and her hands are balled into fists as if she's about to give him a beating. "I can't believe you sold mother's brooch!", she shouts at the top of her lungs.

A shiver runs down your spine as you watch her point her slim finger at him, wiggling it infront of his face. He's twice her size and clearly too intoxicated to think straight. Worried, that he might explode as well, you rush to her side and tense up, ready to intervene.

"That's theft!", she yells at him and his eyes fall on something behind you.

"Oh, speakin' of thieves. I see you found your outlaw again.", he says, his voice oozing with discontent.

Arthur doesn't seem too fazed by his hostility towards him. In fact it looks like he's even used to it. He greets him with a casual wave of his hand as if he's an old friend. "Hello, sir. Have you been well?"

During the commotion, you notice the tall man slipping away, throwing nervous glances in your direction. With a pleading look, you turn to Arthur. "Could you get that brooch back?", you ask in a hushed tone.

The outlaw let's out a sigh, but nods. "Sure." His answer comes out short and he jogs after the other man.

As you turn your attention back to Mary and her father, you see that their argument slowly comes to an end. She throws some more words at him, angry and hurt, but it's like talking to a wall. It upsets you how he dismisses her with a wave of his hand and walks off as if she's nothing but an inconvenience to him.

An annoyed grunt escapes her and with the fire in her eyes dying down, so does her energy. Defeated, she flops down onto a crate and burries her face in both hands. For a moment there you think she will start crying, but no noise leaves her throat. Slowly, she looks back up at you and you offer her a soft smile.

"I'm so sorry that you had to see all this.", she says, her voice weak and tired and you sit down next to her.

In an attempt to comfort her, you place your hand on her back and rub circles on it. "You're not the one who should apologize. He is."

"He hasn't always been that way, you know? He got lost when mother died and-" She leaves the rest unspoken and shakes her head. "Nevermind. I don't want to think 'bout that right now."

A heavy silence falls over the two of you as you wait for Arthur to return, hopefully with the stolen brooch. Your mind ponders as you try to come up with another topic to talk about, something to distract her with. Surprisingly enough she beats your to it. "You and Arthur seem close."

Her statement strikes a cord in you and instinctively you pull your hand back. Now that is definitely not the distraction you were aiming or hoping for. For a very long time, you stumble over your own words, unsure how to answer and her lips curl up.

Understanding is laying in her expression as she locks eyes with you. "It's alright. I'm not upset if that's what you're afraid of. I'm happy actually."

"I don't know what to say.", you admit, sounding almost breathless. "The other day in the saloon. You told me that you're still thinking of him."

She nods. "I did, yes and it was true. After everythin' with Jamie, after seein' Arthur again...he seemed like the man I used to know and love, but at the same time so different. I started dreamin' and fantasizin' again."

You're left speechless, uncertain what to think or feel right now. A part of you feels guilty for not mentioning your bond with the outlaw sooner to her, but another part of you is also relieved. Relieved that it's finally out there and that it doesn't affect your friendship with the woman negatively.

On the contrary, she looks incredibly happy as she takes your hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze. "What Arthur and I had was true and wonderful, but it could never work out between us. I could never accept his lifestyle and neither can he accept mine, but you...you're livin' his life. You have a certain understandin' of that strange code of his that I lack."

A mix of emotions well up in your chest and you feel like it's going to burst, but she keeps on going with her moving speech. "Perhaps he is smarter now and will become a better man for you. I dearly hope so, because you deserve it, my friend."

Without hesitation, you pull her into a bone crushing hug which she returns with the same amount of vigor. You barely even notice Arthur returning until something shiny flashes in the corner of your eyes and you let go of the woman. After giving it a closer look, you recognize the brooch and Mary jumps up to her feet.

"You got it back!", she exclaims in excitement, but it's quickly being replaced by a shadow that casts itself over her face. "It's better that I don't know what you did to get it."

"Hey, I bought it from the feller. Fair and square.", Arthur counters offended, almost pouty even and she briefly raises her eyebrows in surprise. Then she stares longingly at the brooch for a very long time before pocketing it with a sigh.

"We can give you a ride to the hotel.", you offer, but she shakes her head.

"No, the trolley is enough. I can find my way back by myself just fine.", she argues with an exhausted smile. Today's events clearly drained her and you get up from where you're sitting as well, straightening out your skirt.

Mary joins you ontop of Penthesilea and you follow Arthur to a nearby trolley station. She wraps her arms around you and you return the hug. "Don't be a stranger.", you say, making her chuckle softly.

"I won't.", she answers and turns to Arthur. Both of them are a bit more awkward with their farewell until she takes his hand in hers. "Goodbye, Arthur."

He mumbles a quick 'goodbye' too and with that she steps onto the trolley. You wave with your hand as she disappears around the corner and you let out a sigh. Looks like it's time to return to camp again, now that that's settled. Just as you're about to go back to your horse, a hand grips softly your wrist.

"Hey, I was thinkin'...", Arthur starts, struggling. His eyes flicker towards everywhere except for your face and he slowly takes off his cowboy hat. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "What are you doin'? Right now, I mean."

The sudden question takes you aback for a moment and you shrug with your shoulders. "Nothing, really. I was going to head back to camp unless you got different plans."

"I was wonderin' if you'd like to go to the theater. With me.", he says hesitantly, almost shy even. "Ah, forget about it. I'm bein' a fool-"

"No, I'd love to go.", you interrupt him embarrassingly fast and can't help the silly laugh that is escaping you. "Take me to the theater, Arthur Morgan."

The outlaw let's out a breathless chuckle, as if he can't believe that you agreed, but he hides the sound behind a cough. He motions towards the horses in a way as if he's opening a door for you and together you ride to the local theater.

After hitching your horses on the side of the road, he pushes open the entrance and steps aside for you to enter. Arthur leans against the counter where an employee is standing behind. "So what you got playin' right now?"

"We have a fire breather show, Mister.", the other man says with excitement and Arthur throws you a curious look over his shoulder. After you give him a nod, he buys two tickets and you make your way deeper inside.

The theater is packed with people, but you're lucky enough to find two free seats in the middle. As you move towards them, Arthur's hand doesn't leave your back until you sit down. But even then he picks up the contact again and places his arm around your shoulders.

Sitting this close next to one another with your thighs and arms touching comes almost naturally to you. After all, you've been sitting like that around the campfire ever since you arrived at Shady Belle. A smile tucks at the corner of your mouth at that thought and you relax.

All your attention is set on the stage where a man comes out from behind the red curtains. He introduces the fire breather, Antoinette Sanseverino. The man cracks a joke about how he tried to woo her, but quickly giving up, because she set his topcoat on fire. It gets a laugh out of Arthur next to you.

After the man leaves, the curtains are being pulled back and reveal a beautiful woman holding a lit torch. Her green stage outfit shimmers in the flickering light of the fire, making her look like she's out of this world. The entire performance is absolutely captivating, honestly.

She waves the torch around so effortlessly, swallowing and spitting out fire. It even reaches the middle row where you're sitting and everyone ducks away. The inside of the theater becomes awfully hot after a while and you rub the sweat off your hands on your coat.

Everyone in the audience starts clapping loudly once the show is over and you wipe away the pearls of sweat that are beginning to form on your forehead. "I think I need some fresh air.", you tell Arthur breathlessly.

He nods in understanding before standing up and leading you of the theater. Your chest is rising and falling heavily and your lungs welcome the cool evening air with open arms. "You alright?", the outlaw asks, concern lacing his voice and you quickly nod.

"Yes, I am. The air just got too thick in there."

"Okay then.", he mutters, scratching his cheek. Then an impressed look covers his face as his eyes fall back on the building. "That was quite somethin'."

"Tell me about it! Have you seen that bald guy in the front row, though?", you answer, matching his enthusiasm.

Arthur cackles at your words and waves around with one hand. "Yes! Didn't think his hat would catch fire like that."

During the performance, a man in the first row caught the tiniest bit of fire. His hat wasn't exactly burning, more glowing and he managed to put it out quickly. The high pitched squeals he was making during it all, was what made the audience chuckle in amusement.

After you and Arthur calm down from your laughing fit, you let out an almost disappointed sigh. "I guess it's time to head back home then."

Arthur hooks his thumbs into his weapon belt as he watches you. It's as clear as daylight that he doesn't want to end this either. "How 'bout we don't head back?", he asks then and you raise your eyebrows in curiosity. "Are you hungry?"

Now that you think about it, you don't remember the last time you had a meal today. As if it's scripted, the moment he finishes his question your stomach begins to rumble. With a smirk, Arthur extends his arm to you to have his hand somewhere on your upper back or shoulders again, always respectful with where he touches you.

Since he knows the city way better than you, you let him take the lead again and he takes you to a rather nice looking restaurant. It's nothing for the high society people, mind you, but it's not shabby either. Once inside, the place feels comfortable, cozy even and Arthur pulls out a chair for you to sit on.

When was the last time you ate out like this? The outlaw life has kept you busy and away from doing all these things that used to be so mundane to you. Now it feels painfully foreign. It gets to a point where you're afraid that some gang or the Pinkertons might dash through the doors any moment to get you.

"Hey, everythin' okay?", Arthur rips you out of your thoughts and you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"I'm fine. I guess I'm just not used to this."

Not like I used to be.

He nods, but much to your relief, doesn't question it any further. It's not a topic you want to focus on at the moment. For now, all you want to do is enjoy the company and a hot meal that has been prepared in an actual kitchen for once.

After finishing the food, you stay a bit longer for some drinks and talk until the sun sets entirely. With a lot of protest from your side, Arthur pays for everything (once again) and you stumble out of the restaurant. Perhaps the alcohol has gotten a bit into your head and you run both hands over your face.

"We should stop at a saloon.", you mumble, earning barking laughter from Arthur. He had slightly more to drink than you, but it doesn't seem to have any effect on him. It makes you wonder just how much he had with Lenny back in Valentine to get into the state he was.

You look at his face. His flushed cheeks are the only indicator that he had any alcohol just now. Maybe it has actually gotten to his head as well and you're just not noticing it.

"Nah, let's get you to bed.", he says, leading you safely across the street and towards the horses. "How about you ride with me and we have your horse follow us?"

His idea sounds good. You usually prefer not to sit behind reigns even after one glass when you can avoid it. Only after wrapping your arms securely around his waist and feeling the warmth of his body on yours, do you realize how much you miss riding with him.

It's nice not having to focus on the road for once or having to be on the lookout for any danger. Sure, back in your time you had some nasty encounters, but not to this extend. Never in your life have you felt unsafe and exposed when going out without a gun, up until now.

Will I ever be able to shake this off?

Fortunately, you don't have the time to dwell on that topic, because you're already at camp. In the distance you see the light of a campfire, indicating to you that some people are still awake. How long have you been out?

Arthur and you walk in deeper, but stop at the fountain, leaving a generous distance between you and the others. It seems like he doesn't want to give them ammunition for teasing either, but you're afraid that it's too late. Karen has a nose for these things and has most likely noticed how long the both of you were absent today.

Before going to sleep, you should maybe prepare some excuses for her questioning tomorrow morning. Something tells you that she won't let you off the hook so easily this time. Quickly you push these thoughts away and turn to Arthur, smiling softly. "I had fun today."

"Me too." His answer comes out awkward and short. It's an amusing sight, seeing the outlaw like this. That man doesn't think twice when he throws himself into fist fights or crossfire, but whenever it comes to these moments, he seems so helpless. It's like watching a deer getting lost inside a city and trying to navigate through it.

Arthur's hat is off as always when he talks to you and his fingers are gripping it tightly. It's too dark to see it now, but you bet that the whites of his knuckles are showing. You bite back a chuckle. "I'd love to do this again."

"Me too.", he repeats and runs a hand over his beard. It could very well be the alcohol that is making you too bold when you gently put a hand on his cheek and place a quick kiss on the other. His beard is rough and scratches your skin slightly and you feel your fingertips tracing over old scars.

Arthur's entire body tenses up a bit, making him almost flinch away, but he stays unmoving. The darkness of the night hides most of his features, but you can make out enough of his expression to see the bashful smile.

"Goodnight, Arthur.", you whisper and leave him standing at the fountain as you make your way to your tent.

You feel his gaze on you all the way until you disappear around the corner.

Chapter Text

Just as you expected the night before, it's impossible to save yourself from Karen's clutches and interrogation. The moment she spots you sipping peacefully your coffee over the campfire, she rushes over and slings an arm around your shoulders.

Her eyebrow is raised high as she stares you down in anticipation and with a knowing glimpse in her bright green eyes. "A little birdie told me that someone had fun last night.", she starts with a hushed voice.

Yes, she's the number one gossip source in the gang, but at least she knows how to be discreet about it. Putting you on the spot infront of everyone won't give her any of the answers she oh so desires and she's aware of that. The two of you are too good of friends for her not to be considerate about your feelings.

"No idea what you're talking about.", you say in false indifference and keep your gaze set straight. If you meet her eyes now you're afraid that your mask might fall off and she will see right through you. Of course she does that even without your help.

Her smirk only grows wider and she takes a step back to get a better look at you, crossing her arms infront of her chest in the process. "Come on!", she whines and quickly pushes you towards a table that's standing away from the others. "You have to tell me! I saw you two kiss!"

"Who kissed?", you hear Tilly, who seems to just materialize out of nowhere. You were so busy with Karen that you didn't even see the other woman lurking closeby with curious eyes.

And of course when Karen and Tilly are together, Mary-Beth isn't too far either. She joins the three of you as if summoned and places down the novel she's holding. "Someone kissed?"

The whole thing is escalating faster than you'd like to and you open your mouth to protest, but your dear friend, Karen, beats you to it. "Arthur and our future Mrs. Morgan over here."

The other two women gasp, absolutely floored by the information and you hastily shake your head with your hands held high as if you're being held at gunpoint. "I kissed his cheek! There is a huge difference."

"Surely that can't be all!", Karen argues, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. Before anyone can say anything more though, a large figure with broad shoulders approaches the group. Speak of the devil.

Arthur greets the three women that are with you with a nod before turning to you. "I was wonderin' if you're free tonight." He's asking you out on a date again? And infront of everyone else nonetheless. The women begin to snicker to themselves after hearing his question and you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek to stop a smirk from forming. "Angelo Bronte invited us to the Mayor's garden party."

You try your hardest to mask your disappointment and you quickly clear your throat before answering. "He's inviting us to a party after he kidnapped Jack?", you ask, disbelief lacing your voice.

"Dutch landed on his good side, it seems.", he answers with a shrug of his shoulders and motions with his chin towards the balcony upstairs. "Do you have a moment? Dutch and Hosea are talkin' 'bout the details right now."

A nod is the only thing you manage to do and you wave the other women goodbye before Arthur leads you inside the house and up the stairs. Sure, you feel a bit embarrassed for assuming that the outlaw would ask you out this soon, but that is a distant thought for now.

Once you step out onto the balcony, Dutch and Hosea turn to you with a nod. "Ah, so you decided to join us at the party then?" The gang leader's question is directed at you.

"If you want me there, then I'll be happy to come along.", you say, straightening your back and squaring up your shoulders ever so slightly to appear more confident. If Dutch personally wants you on board at a job, then you can't disappoint.

They explain the plan to you in great detail. How they will try to stay on Bronte's good side since he's in charge of the city and that, at the same time, you all will be mingling with the high society guests there. Saint Denis seems to be a promising location with all these rich morons around and any lead could be just the one you need to finally leave.

"I'm afraid I don't have the appropriate attire for the party.", you speak up before the group splits and they all turn to you. Dutch looks less concerned about your problem and makes a throwaway gesture with his hand.

"Ask Molly for somethin'.", is all he suggests. While he turns to leave, you hear him mumble another sentence under his breath. "That woman has more dresses and skirts than she has sense."

His comment leaves a bitter sensation on your tongue, but you brush it off. You give Arthur a side glance and he simply lifts his hands as if he admits defeat and shakes his head. A deep sigh escapes your lips and you run a hand over your face. "And what are you going to wear?", you ask the outlaw.

"Somethin' nice."

"Do you even have something that doesn't have stains on it?", you counter, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth and he let's out an amused huff.

"Real funny."

After some more back and forth, you go to search for Molly who you find holed up in the bedroom she shares with Dutch. Her nose is buried deep inside a book and she doesn't even notice you entering the room until you clear your throat.

Her head snaps up as a startled noise escapes her, but the moment she recognizes you, she chuckles breathlessly. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear ya coming in."

"It's okay, no worries." You close the door behind you and fidget with your hands. Molly and you haven't really had the chance to talk much, so you're not quite so sure how to approach the woman. "I'm going to this party with the others tonight and Dutch said you could lend me something to wear?"

At the mention of his name, a strange emotion flickers over her delicate features, but it vanishes before you could decipher what it means. Molly puts the book down and gets up from where she's sitting, walking over to a chest that you assume she keeps her clothes in. "I should have something for you, I think."

While she rummages through a pile of garments, she throws some of them aimlessly onto the bed. Every single piece looks to be made out of the finest materials and it makes you wonder who exactly Molly O'Shea was before she joined the gang.

Most of the clothes she owns are different shades of green. She usually wears that color in every outfits she puts on and for good reason as well. It suits her fantastically.

After a few minutes of her digging through the chest and you silently waiting behind her, she straightens her back again and motions towards the dresses that are spread out over the bed. "These ones should fit the theme."

As you approach them, your eyes trail over every piece in wonder and you hesitantly reach out to touch them. You're careful, worried to tear or dirty them with a single touch. "Are you sure you want to lend me one? They all look rather expensive."

"It's no problem, really.", she answers nonchalantly and waves her hand around in the air. There is a sour undertone in her voice as she says the next sentence. "It's not like I've got any use of them now."

That's true. Dutch seems to never let her leave the camp and you only rarely see her outside of her room. Before that shitshow in Rhodes, Molly was at least walking around the tents and sitting by the water with a book. If you were even a bit closer to her, you'd have offered a hug as comfort.

"I know that things haven't been easy for you.", you begin, sounding rather awkward, but that's not stopping you. You want her to know that she at least has one ally in the gang. "If you want to talk, you can always come to me."

It's obvious in her expression that she appreciates you reaching out a helping hand to her, but she still produces a bitter scoff. "Talking won't help me now." In a defeated and exhausted manner, she falls back down onto the chair she was sitting on when you walked in and burries her face in both hands. "It feels like he closed himself off completely to me."

Slowly, you walk towards her and kneel down onto the wooden floor. Your hands find their way to her shoulders and you give them a light squeeze. "I think he's just stressed at the moment. It's a lot of pressure with the Pinkertons so close on our tail and all."

"It's not the stress, goddammit.", she hisses and you manage to not flinch under her harsh voice. They're not directed at you, after all. "He hasn't touched me in weeks and now he only has eyes for her."

Now that is a lot of information you didn't expect to get out of her. You're not exactly certain who Molly is talking about, but then again, you haven't been around much lately. It must be someone in camp, but you feel like one of the women would have told you.

"I don't want to think about that man now.", Molly says after a few seconds of silence and you both rise up. With her chin held high, she straightens her skirt and picks up one of the dresses. "Let's doll you up for tonight."

After you're done getting ready, she hands you a handheld mirror for you to inspect her work. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you stare at the woman in the reflection. It's an unfamiliar sight, to say the least.

Molly has done a splendid job, hiding the scars and dark circles under your eyes with makeup. In fact, she has chosen just the right shade of eyeshadow to compliment your eyes and make the color pop out. Lipstick is there as well, but less striking and more subtle as if you had bitten your lips softly.

As distasteful as Dutch's comment about the woman was, he didn't exaggerate with the amount of clothes she owns. She was able to find a dress that fits your body in a way as if it was tailored to your exact measurement. The soft fabric is hugging your figure like a warm embrace.

Seeing you like this, banishes any doubt you had about joining the men for the garden party. Now you truly think you will blend into the crowd just fine. You can't fight the wide grin that is spreading on your face and you give Molly the mirror back.

"I take it that you like it?", she asks, knowing already by your reaction that you do. A confident expression is plastered on her face and you pull her into a tight hug.

"Thank you so much!"

With a soft chuckle, she returns the hug. Just as you're about to leave through the door, she calls out to you and your hand stays on the knob, unmoving. You turn around look at her. Hesitancy is written all over her, but there is something else flickering underneath that. Hope. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

Your answer comes shooting out faster than a bullet. "Of course. Anything, Molly."

"You're good with Arthur, right? Do you think you could talk to him about Dutch? He might listen to him more than to me."

A shadow falls over your face, but you quickly hide it away. With how things are at the moment, you really don't think that anyone is able to talk some sense into that man regarding their relationship, but you decide to keep that to yourself. "I will. Of course."

A relieved smile graces her lips and with a nod, you step out and join the others outside where an elegant, black coach is already waiting. Dutch, Hosea and Arthur are all neatly dressed up in classic black suits and looking quite handsome too.

"You guys cleaned up quite well.", you call out to them, grinning and feel Arthur's eyes wandering over your face and figure. Hosea let's out a barking laugh at your words and gestures in your direction.

"So did you. We won't have trouble blending in with a lady like you at our side.", he comments, earning an embarrassed chuckle from you. Thanks to Molly you do feel like a lady in this attire and you should give her full credit.

You look down at yourself, inspecting the dress and accessories further. "I wouldn't have been able to get this done in a million years if it wasn't for Molly, to be honest."

As you speak out these words, you steal a subtle glance in Dutch's direction, taking in his reaction. Only that there isn't much to take in. Not one muscle in his face flinches and you almost sigh in aggravation. There is no getting through to him, but you push that thought to the back of your mind. Now you need to focus on your social and deception skills.

A cough can be heard next to you and you turn to face Arthur. His expression is a gentle one as he eyes you from top to bottom. "You look lovely.", he mumbles awkwardly into his beard and you bite back a chuckle.

"Thank you. So do you." With that he extends his hand out to you and helps you climb into the coach.

The ride to the mayor's house is bumpy and you bet that your ass will be black and blue by tomorrow morning. It makes you miss Penthesilea, but it wouldn't be a good look to come storming in on horseback. Not only is the coach uncomfortable, but also a bit too small to hold four people.

As much as you welcome the nonexistent proximity between Arthur and you, you don't quite enjoy being squished against the wall. He's a large man and nearly takes up the entire seat which doesn't leave you with a lot of room. At least he's being a gentleman about it and tries to scooch away every now and then.

Relief washes over you once you arrive at the mayor's house and you roll your shoulders with new-found freedom. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long and your small group is being stopped by the security when you approach.

"It's mandatory for everyone to leave their weapons here with us.", says the man at the entrance and you all exchange looks.

Without any protest, you all hand over your guns and you can't help but feel exposed without the extra weight on your side. Of course you don't expect a fight to break out during the party and you trust that the mayor has the funds and resources for decent security, but still. It makes you jumpy and nervous.

You all are being led through a massive and neatly kept hallway. At the end of it, Arthur and Dutch are being brought upstairs to meet Bronte, leaving Hosea and you alone. Together you step out into the garden and let your gazes wander around the masses.

"We should approach this together. What do you think?", Hosea starts and you nod, not having anything to say against his suggestion.

You stay closely by his side as he walks down the stairs and begins to mingle. He introduces the both of you with fake names and you put on the sweetest smile you can muster up. Normally, you don't have an issue with playing people like a fiddle to get information out of them, but normally the ones you tend to fool are drunk hillbillies.

So you let Hosea take the lead entirely and watch him do his magic. He's pretty charismatic and has a certain aura about him that makes others listen and trust. Arthur has told you many times before that Hosea is a natural conman, born and bred, and there definitely is no denying in that.

You steal a glance up towards the balcony to see Bronte all alone with his flock of loyal followers. They're smoking cigars, drinking expensive liquor and snickering amongst themselves. There is something sinister about that man, but you can't tell exactly what it is. The sight of him alone makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

In the corner of your eyes, you spot Arthur talking to a group of men at the fountain and you excuse yourself to join his side. With a soft tap on his shoulder, you make yourself known and throw him a quick smile which he returns.

He introduces you to the others and you give them the fake name Hosea has assigned to you earlier. They all tilt their heads and raise their glasses politely as a greeting and you mimick the gesture.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself, Miss?", asks Mr. Lemieux, the mayor. The shape of his eyebrows reminds you of an owl everytime you look at him.

"I certainly am. I must say, you have a beautiful garden.", you answer, earning barking laughter from the man.

His eyes trail around the property and he gestures with his hand. "Well, I would hope so, otherwise I would have to find a new gardener."

His joke makes the entire group laugh and you force out a chuckle as well. Then suddenly a man walk up to the mayor and they exchange hushed words with each other. You can't make out everything, but enough to know that it's about Leviticus Cornwall. That man seems to be everywhere and anywhere.

Arthur and you excuse yourselves and meet back up with Dutch who's overlooking everything at the porch. "Did you find any good leads?", he asks you as you approach and Arthur tells him what you heard just now.

"Go and see if you can get these documents.", he tells the two of you and you immediately begin to follow the man who talked to Mr. Lemieux.

He walks around the house and Arthur and you stop by a bush to avoid detection while he speaks with a police officer. Once he's on the move again and the officer leaves his post as well, you're on his heels again.

Making sure to keep a safe distance between him and you, you press your back against the wall and watch him. A woman is with him this time, keeping her head low and her gaze fixed onto the floor while he scolds her. His tone is stern and irritated as if it's not the first time that he catches her lacking.

Just when you think he will start moving again, you leave your hiding spot and he turns around, spotting you. "My apologies, but this area isn't for guests.", he says with a subtle bow, but other than that doesn't look upset.

"'Course. We was lookin' for a way back to the garden and got lost.", Arthur quickly explains and you throw him a side glance. That lie sounds as unbelievable as can be, but the man doesn't question it any further. Instead, he motions towards a nearby exist and vanishes at a staircase.

"We got lost? Really?", you whisper in Arthur's direction with a raised eyebrow and your lips curling up into a teasing smirk.

He simply rolls his eyes as he ushers you up the same staircase the man used, but his expression makes it clear that he isn't too offended by your comment. You force your attention back to the task at hand and peek around the corner.

The door to some kind of office is standing wide open for you to see the man doing something at a desk and closing a drawer before disappearing into another room. Without hesitation, you rush towards the desk and Arthur fishes a document out of the drawer

He holds it up for you to see it too and you recognize Leviticus Cornwall's name on it. The two of you exchange satisfied looks between each other and begin to make your way out of there, but you hear voices coming from the staircase. Quickly, you open a door and push Arthur inside.

You enter the room right after him and quietly close the door, pressing your ear against the wood to listen. Arthur's chest is right on your back and that's when you notice that you're in some kind of closet. It's tight, pushing the two of you closely together.

"I think the coast is clear.", you mutter in a hushed voice and turn around to face the outlaw. His blue eyes are locked with yours and he awkwardly clears his throat.

"We should go then.", he says, sounding mildly unconvincing. His calloused hands are placed on your waist and his warm breath tickles your nose. Being this close to him, you can make out a fresh, soapy scent with a subtle hint of tobacco.

Not only does he look nice tonight, but smells nice as well. This entire situation creates a certain heat in your chest which travels up to your head and through the rest of your body in a rapid pace. Yes, you have touched him many times before, but never have you found yourself pressed flushed against his broad figure like this.

Every flinch and every movement of his muscles under his suit, sends a jolt of electricity through you and even though his fingers are on the fabric of your dress, they still manage to burn into your skin. The wildest and most scandalous of thoughts course through mind, making you feel dizzy and lightheaded and cause your throat to dry up.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips which doesn't go unnoticed by Arthur. His eyes flicker down towards your mouth and something falls over his expression. A strange noise comes out of his throat and he seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in up until now.

His hand finds it's way to the doorknob and much to your dismay, you leave the small closet. None of you mutter a single word as you sneak out back to the garden, this time completely undetected. Dutch is waiting with Hosea at the porch and their faces light up as their eyes fall on you.

"Did you get everything?", Dutch asks and as a response, Arthur taps lightly against his own chest where the document is secured.

With that you return to the coach, your mind racing with all manner of thoughts and images, burning hot like embers. Even as you prepare for the night and lay down to sleep, you can't shake off the memories of the events from earlier and how restless they have left you.

It takes an eternity for you to drift off into a deep slumber, only to be haunted there by him as well. You simply can't escape the intense stare of a certain gunslinger and the echo his rough fingers have left on your body.

Chapter Text

Trelawny extends his hand out to you, helping you step off the stage coach that drove the both of you to Saint Denis. Across the street and up a flight of stairs is a tailor located where there is apparently a dress waiting for you.

Molly has taken it upon herself to fix up your hair and makeup again this morning after Dutch told you that you will be joining Arthur and the others on a boat. Seems like you have done a fine job at the mayor's party the other night, otherwise he wouldn't be throwing you into yet another high society role.

"What a fine day for shopping, don't you think so, Miss?", Trelawny says as he leads you to your destination. There is something about that man that makes one gravitate towards him. It could be the sweet words he whispers into one's ear. Somehow he always knows what you want to hear.

Or it's the way he carries himself. Even after being kidnapped by these bounty hunters back in Rhodes, that certain spring in his step didn't disappear. All you know (which is what you need to know) is that you can trust him with this type of work.

Once inside the store, Trelawny exchanges a few words with the shopkeeper, chatting with him as if they're old friends. "There is a dress waiting for our beautiful lady over here."

The shopkeeper nods and ushers you to the back, where the dressing rooms are located. You slip into the dress that is waiting for you, hanged up on the wall, and inspect it in the mirror. The fabric is a soft and comfortable material, hugging your figure nicely and it's light enough to not get in the way while running.

It's color is a deep, rich burgundy which flatters your make-up quite wonderfully, but that doesn't come to you as a surprise. Molly never disappoints with her work and that is something you have learned very quickly.

You feel even more beautiful than you did the night of the party, if that is even possible. There is only one problem and that is the price. Obviously, this dress is made out of the finest materials and impeccable craftsmanship, so you can only imagine how many digits the price must have.

With a half-smile-half-frown, you step out of the dressing room where Trelawny and the shopkeeper are greeting you with raised eyebrows and pleased expressions.

"I must say that you look absolutely marvelous!", Trelawny exclaims with excitement as he circles you with a wide smile. His enthusiasm is quite contagious and you feel a grin creep up on your own face as well.

"I feel marvelous.", you admit without hesitation and look down at yourself. "I'm just not sure if I can afford the dress."

A strange emotion falls over the man's face, as if you had insulted his entire bloodline and he shakes his head violently. "Don't you worry about the price, my dearest. It is all already taken care of."

His response makes your eyes go wide and you furrow your brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that the dress is already paid for." Before you can even think of asking any further questions, he hooks his arm into yours and gently pushes you out of the store. "Let's go and wait for our oil prince, shall we?"

Ah, yes. Arthur will play the role of a rich oil man while you will pretend to be his little accessory for the night. There isn't much for you to do, except staying by his side and make the part he plays more believable.

Shortly after you find a quiet, cozy spot to wait at, Arthur turns up. He's wearing his usual blue button up shirt and his worn leather jacket. Surely, Trelawny has a proper attire prepared for him as well?

"Ah, there you are dear boy!", Trelawny calls out to him with his arms wide open. He gives the outlaw a quick look-over. "Well, we need to smarten you up a bit."

"What?", Arthur shouts, offended at the man's remark and his gaze finds yours, looking for some sort of back-up. Only that you're the wrong person he should seek support in with this, because you absolutely agree.

"He's right, Arthur.", you say with a teasing smirk plastered on your face and you let out a mischievous chuckle. "You can't be playing at the tables on a Lannahacee River Boat looking like this."

Arthur's lips curl up ever so slightly and he raises an eyebrow in a way as if he's challenging you. With his thumbs hooked into his weapon belt, he strolls over to where you're standing and stops right infront of you. He's close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your nose and cheeks and memories of the two of you scooped together in a closet flood your mind.

"Would ya look at that? You attend one fancy party and now you're actin' all high and mighty." His voice comes out anything but upset. On the contrary, it sounds inviting, urging you to bite back and bite back you will.

"What can I say? I'm a lady with high standards now, Mr. Morgan."

Barking laughter escapes him and he shakes his head with a smile. "A lady you sure are, but high standards? I know the company you keep 'round and they ain't high standard."

It's more a jab at himself than you, you're aware of that and you give his chest a soft pat. "My company is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I actually couldn't ask for better."

The both of you stare at each other for a few seconds longer, before Trelawny rips you out of your daze with a cough. He ushers Arthur into the shop that you two were in just a while ago and it looks like there is an outfit at the ready for the outlaw as well.

It's a neat and elegant three piece suit that looks quite handsome on him. A bit tight around his shoulders and biceps, but it's barely noticeable unless you gawk at the man. Which you're obviously doing right now.

"My, my. Now you look the part.", you comment, letting your eyes trail over his attire, taking everything in. An amused huff can be heard from his throat.

"I look silly."

"You look great, Arthur." Your words are as sincere as they can be, but before the outlaw has the chance to reply, Trelawny drags the two of you to the next location. It's a barber.

On the way there, he explains the plan you will have to follow on the boat. Arthur and you will be sitting at one of the poker tables while Strauss gives you signals during the game, guaranteeing your success. Javier is also going to be there, armed and making sure everything goes by smoothly.

"Won't it be suspicious? Javier carrying a gun, I mean.", you ask, your eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Do not worry! I got it all planned out." That is everything Trelawny says regarding your question. As you arrive at the barber, you drop the topic and Arthur takes a seat at of the stations.

"My good man!", Trelawny calls out to the barber, gesturing as energetically as he always does. "Could you smarten up my dear hick friend, here?"

The barber does a fast job. After only a short while, Arthur's face is clean shaven and his hair cut a bit shorter and swept back neatly with some pomade. At first you were a little uncertain about removing his beard. It's something you like about him and you have never seen him without it, but he looks good, charming even.

"Now you look like the Duke that you are!", Trelawny says and your trio leaves through the front door where an open coach is awaiting you.

Trelawny let's you in about a few more details regarding the job, the boat and the customers it typically harbors. Once you make it to the docks, he stops you with a raised hand and gestures towards your weapon belts. "You will need to leave those here. They will search us at the entrance."

If there's anything you don't like, then it's going to a new place without your gun. It makes you skittish and anxious and you feel more naked than you would without any clothing. With a reluctant sigh, you take off your belt and place it on the seat of the coach.

You watch the it leave, a longing expression on your face, until it disappears around the corner. In the distance you recognize Javier and Strauss standing at the reiling and your small group joins them.

"Gentlemen! Champagne is on dear old Arthur!", Trelawny exclaims solemnly and with open arms, which gets a chuckle out of you.

Now that your group is a tad bigger, you feel safer and more comfortable with entering this place. As you make your way to the boat, you're being stopped by security and asked to hand over any weapons you might be carrying.

After the quick inspection, you hook your arm into Arthur's and together you make your way inside. The air is filled with the scent of expensive perfume and cigar smoke. It makes breathing difficult, which only adds to your anxiety of not having any protection on you.

"You doin' good?", Arthur whispers close to your ear and you swallow the lump in your throat. Under any other circumstances, you would have enjoyed being this close to him again. Unfortunately, you can't focus on anything, besides the fact that you're more exposed than ever right now.

"Can we have a drink at the bar real quick?", you ask and he nods without any further questions. Maybe some alcohol will loosen you up a bit. You need to keep a cool head for what's to come.

The outlaw orders two glasses of champagne for the both of you and after the bartender leaves, he leans forward. "What's goin' on?"

"I don't know. I always feel so...scared when I'm without a weapon. It started when-" You can't bring yourself to finish the sentence.

It started when those O'Driscolls abducted me.

It's odd that you only now realize what exactly triggered your fear. All this time you thought that you were over what happened, but it seems like it has left a deeper scar than expected. A warm sensation on your hand rips you out of your thoughts and you watch Arthur's thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"Nothin' will happen to you.", he says, his voice strong and reassuring. "I'll set this whole damn boat on fire, before anyone can even think about touchin' a single hair on your head."

His words strike a chord within you and your heartbeat picks up in pace. You know that he means what he says. If Arthur Morgan promises he will have your back, then you can count on that. A small smile creeps up your face and your take a sip of the champagne.

The bubbly drink is sweet and goes down your throat nicely. Saint Denis has really been spoiling you quite a bit with all this fancy liquor. You can't bring yourself to force down the stuff you have back in camp anymore.

"Do you see the others anywhere?", you ask and let your gaze wander around the room. It's filled to the brim with guests already, but there's no sign of your companions.

Maybe that's for the better. That only means that you can enjoy some drinks with Arthur in peace. After finishing your glass, your muscles being to relax and you slowly, but surely calm down again.

It will be fine. You're not alone.

You repeat these words in your head like a mantra, desperately holding onto them as if they're a lifeline. Arthur's presence helps you a great deal as well, his calloused hand never leaving yours.

"Thank God Strauss will be helping you win the game.", you speak up after a while as the bartender brings you a second glass. Arthur let's out an outraged scoff and studies your face intently.

"What do you mean?", he argues, offended. "I got a knack for poker!"

"Sure. That's why I always see you loose when you play with the others." Of course you don't have the intention to genuinely insult him with your words. It's just that you feel like some banter will be a welcoming distraction for you.

"Why don't we place a bet? If I win, you owe me a drink."

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth and you shake your head. "No way. This game is rigged."

"I don't mean today. When we're back in camp. If I win a game against the others, you will buy me a drink."

"And what happens if you loose?", you ask, curiosity lacing your voice and he shrugs.

"That's somethin' for you to decide, ain't it? It can be whatever you want." The last sentence replays in your mind over and over again.

It can be anything I want, huh?

It's clear that he means it as an invitation, a challenge. Anticipation flickers in his blue eyes and you feel a familiar heat form inside your chest. Mental images of his hands gliding over your body and his lips tracing the curve of your neck, flood your mind. No matter how hard you try to push them away, they keep popping up.

Arthur's intense gaze never leaves your face, piercing through you as if he's reading your thoughts. That is probably exactly what he's doing right now. The pictures in your head must be written all over you and here you are, standing before him like an open book.

You're so lost in his stare, in him, that you don't even notice the gap between the two of you shrinking. Only when you feel his hot breath on your lips, do you realize that you're magically gravitating towards him. At this point, his hand has left yours and is now placed on your waist.

A sense of deja-vu washes over you, but this time you're in an open space. That means he's standing this close to you by choice, because he wants to be this near to you. The revelation makes your heart flutter.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. Trelawny appears in the corner of your vision, giving both you and Arthur a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You guys are doing a wonderful job playing your part, I must say!"

It's meant as praise, but you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from throwing a snappy remark at his head. He motions with his chin towards one of the poker tables, closer to the middle. It's packed, but one seat is free. "Our dear friend, Desmond Blythe, just joined that table over there."

Arthur nods, pulling slightly at the collar of his shirt and extending his arm for you to take. Together you walk to the poker table Trelawny has pointed out to you. You feel Arthur's shoulders relax and watch him put on a dashing smile. It's like looking at a completely different person.

"Good evenin', gentlemen!", he greets the table, his entire posture oozing with confidence. He might not ever admit it, but he sure makes for a splendid actor. "Arthur Callahan. Sorry, I'm late, but I uh had some unfinished business at the bar."

An amused huff escapes him as he sits down. For a brief moment, surprise flickers over his face while you move to make yourself comfortable on his lap. The action is casual, as if it's an everyday thing you do, and you leisurely swing your arms around his neck.

One of your hands is lazily placed on his chest and you throw the other men at the table a charming smirk. They all nod or raise their glasses as a greeting and Arthur clears his throat.

"Hope you fellers don't mind, if I watch you play for a bit.", you speak up and the man across of you immediately shakes his head.

"How can we say no to the company of a lovely lady such as yourself?", he asks and you throw back your head as you chuckle. What you need to do is distract the others, so that Arthur has a higher chance of winning.

Your grin grows ever wider as you lock eyes with the man. "You flatter me, Mr...?"

"Blythe. Desmond Blythe.", he answers, his eyes studying your face in a way as if you're a portrait at a gallery. The look in his features is anything but hungry or predatory. In fact, it feels more like he's admiring you. Maybe this job won't be so awful after all.

As the poker game begins, you spot Strauss sitting behind Desmond Blythe. He glances over to your table every now and then, but it's nothing too noticeable. If one isn't aware of his role in all this, then one might think he's simply taking a break by himself over there, enjoying the atmosphere.

Right after the first round, almost the entire table gets up to leave. Now it's only Arthur and Mr. Blythe and it doesn't seem like the latter is going to back down anytime soon. They have a light, friendly chat, trying to get to know each other a bit better.

Or rather it's Mr. Blythe who's more interested in finding out who exactly Arthur Callahan is. You catch him throw a glance or two your way every now and then and everytime that happens, you smile sweetly. He returns it, but it seems like his face becomes a little bit redder whenever that happens.

Then all of it comes to an end and rather quickly as well. Arthur wins and that's it, it seems. Mr. Blythe doesn't look like he has any more money to bet on or rather that he won't be betting whatever he has left. You need to act. Fast.

"I take it you're done?", Arthur asks while he sweeps the chips, in the middle of the table, into his own pile.

"Done?", Mr. Blythe repeats with a raised eyebrow and the outlaw gestures towards the chips.

"Bust...or you got somethin' else to play with?"

Mr. Blythe hesitates and you see your opportunity to push him. The tips of your fingers dance over the collar of Arthur's shirt and you feel him tense up ever so slightly under your touch. A small pout begins to take form on your face and you feign disappointment.

"What a shame.", you start, feeling the man's eyes on you from across the table. You catch his stare with a meaningful side glance. "I don't mean any offense, good sir, but we were told there were some big boys on this boat."

Slowly, you get up from Arthur's lap, immediately missing his warmth and comfort, but then Mr. Blythe makes a sound that gets your attention. "I got a watch.", he states and you and Arthur exchange looks.

"Look at you.", the outlaw responds, sarcasm lacing his voice.

"It's an expensive one, real fine. It's Swiss, a Reutlinger no less. It's upstairs in the safe." Now his eyes fall on you, with something flickering inside them. "And we wouldn't want to disappoint the fine lady."

"Alright then.", Arthur says after a while and you sit back down. Your eyes wander to Strauss as the dealer hands over the cards and you watch the Austrian give a barely noticeable nod. This round is a win as well.

Mr. Blythe throws his hands up in frustration and grunts aggravated. His cheeks are almost flushed in anger while Arthur cackles happily, gripping your waist more firmly. It sends a wonderful shiver down your spine.

Another man approaches the table. His hair is swept back neatly and he's wearing a tidy red staff suit. It makes him blend in with the crowd just perfectly, while still making it obvious that he's not a guest.

"Well played, sir.", he says and pats Mr. Blythe's shoulder. "Unlucky Desmond."

"Forgive my lack of discretion, but where might I find this watch?", Arthur asks.

The man nods politely and motions towards an exit. "Of course. If you'll follow me..."

Then, in the blink of an eye, Mr. Blythe jerks up from his chair and clears his throat awkwardly. "I was wonderin' if the lady would like to share a drink with me while the gentlemen get the watch?"

As much as you'd prefer to go along with Arthur, you don't want to end up on Mr. Blythe's bad side. So you open your mouth to agree, but much to your surprise, Arthur beats you to it and with how much vigor as well. "I don't think so."

For a second there, your eyes go wide, but you quickly school your features.

"Surely, she won't mind-"

"But I will.", the outlaw snarls, his words shooting out of him faster than a bullet. His back is straightened, so that he's practically towering over the other man and his glare is making it more than clear that he won't tolerate any protest.

Mr. Blythe, while visibly upset, doesn't argue any further and let's the staff lead you away from the table. As if to make a statement, Arthur wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to his side. "What was that for?", you ask in a hushed voice.

Before he can answer, the man abruptly stops at a double door and you recognize Javier, wearing one of the blue security uniforms. "I don't think I have seen your face."

"I just started last week.", Javier answers, sounding almost bashful.

"Uh...sure...so you can escort us up to the office."

With Arthur's hand still holding your side securely, you walk outside onto the deck and up a flight of stairs. As the man strikes up a conversation with Arthur about his winning streak, you try to memorize the path. Now that you're getting closer to the money, your anxiety begins to set in again.

At least Javier is armed and you have enough trust in his skills to keep you safe, in case trouble arises. Still, it's good to know where you came from and all. Then something flickers in the light of the many chandeliers and you watch the man infront of you pull out a revolver.

"Fear not. I got my own little law bringer right here.", he says and dread washes over you. You weren't paying attention to their conversation at all, but that's some valuable information right there.

Finally, you arrive at the office. Another guard is waiting inside for your small group and just as the man opens the safe, Javier knocks out the extra guard with the back of his rifle.

"Don't reach for that gun.", Arthur demands harshly and takes away his revolver, pushing him into the wall on the left. Just as the outlaw bends over to pick up the contents from the safe, you see something move in the corner of your eyes.

"Arthur, watch out!", you shout and freeze in place as the staff member pulls out a second gun. It's aimed right at you.

An arm appears infront of you, pulling you aside, followed by an earpiercing shot. Blood splatters across the wall and windows and the staff member falls to the ground. Arthur shot him clean in the head.

You feel a pair of calloused, yet gentle hands on your cheeks and the outlaw turns you towards him, locking eyes with you. "You okay?", he asks, concern written all over his rough fatures.

A nod is all you can manage, but there isn't time to talk anyways. Heavy footsteps and panicked shouting can be heard from outside and Javier, Arthur and you slip out of the office with the Reutlinger and some money from the safe.

Everything had to go so fast, so you forgot to pick up the second gun. It's still laying inside the office on the floor, covered in blood. It doesn't matter anymore, though. At least two members of your little heist group are armed now.

Once you return back to the other guests, you hook your arm around Arthur's again and pretend nothing ever happened. That's when you spot Trelawny at the bar, arguing with Mr. Blythe.

"There he is!", the latter yells who has, judging by the way he speaks, been heavily drinking while you were gone. "There's just somethin' I don't like about you!"

"There's plenty I don't like about you, but I have the good manners to keep my mouth shut!", Trelawny counters, equally as upset. Arthur gives his shoulder a quick pat to let him know that it's time to go.

It's only a matter of seconds before they find the body upstairs. The thought makes you nervous and you turn around to face Strauss, who is having a drink at the bar as well. "We should leave.", you whisper in his direction and he nods.

But before you all can even take one step towards the exit, a man comes rushing through one of the double doors and points at Javier. "There he is! Shoot that man!"

One of the guards turns around on his heels to do just that, but Javier is quicker. After a blink of an eye, a shot falls and the guard is dead. Chaos erupts after that. Guests are screaming and running all over the place. Tables and chairs are being pushed over and you can't make out anything in this mess.

Someone pulls you behind the bar counter and you find yourself crouching next to Arthur. A rifle is being shoved into your hands and you hold onto it so tightly that the whites of your knuckles are showing.

"Stay low.", the outlaw says to you, motioning with his chin to the open sides of the counter. "Only shoot if someone tries to sneak up on us from the side."

He stands up to fire a few shots, before he takes cover again. Slowly, but surely your head begins to clear up and you can think straight. The veil over your vision has been removed and the fog in your mind has been lifted completely.

You hear Javier shouting at the two of you, telling you to run outside with Trelawny and Strauss. Together, you jump out of hiding and fall into a sprint behind the line of pillars to your right. The other two men are already waiting at the exit on the other side and they're waving at you.

Aimlessly, you pull the trigger of your rifle a few times, not really going for anyone in particular. You just want to get them off your backs. A quick look over your shoulder shows you that Arthur and Javier are following closely behind you.

What a relief that the dress is so good for running, but now you have to see how well it does in the water. Once you're outside on the deck, you watch Trelawny and Strauss jump over the reiling.

You mimick their action and find yourself in free fall for a second or two. Then it feels as if a punch has knocked out all the air inside your lungs and you're being swallowed by a pitch black void. The cold of the water has taken you completely off guard and now you're struggling to keep you head up.

Small waves splash over you and into your face, submerging you every now and then, but you fight through it. After what feels like an eternity, you finally reach the docks and you pull yourself out of the water with a grunt.

Trelawny is the first to speak up. "Well, never a dull moment."

"That's one way of puttin' it.", Arthur mutters as he shakes off the water from his sleeves. You look down at yourself with a frown. Hopefully the dress will still be fine after it dries.

"So how much did we get?", the first man asks and the outlaw fishes out a stack of dollar bills.

A satisfied smile is spreading on his clean shaven face while he hands everyone their share. "A few thousand, I think and this watch. It's apparently worth a bunch. It's Swiss uh..." He struggles to recall the name.

"A Reutlinger.", you chime in and he nods. Strauss takes the watch from him and holds it up high to get a better look at it. There's not much to see in the darkness of the night, but the moonlight is illuminating the docks just enough to see where you're stepping.

"Yes, it's a Reutlinger alright.", the Austrian exclaims with an impressed chuckle and Arthur quickly snatches the object out of his hands.

"Well, give it back then."

The action makes you let out an amused snort, but you manage to mostly keep it to yourself.

With that you all take your leave and head back to the camp. On the way through Saint Denis, you meet up with the coach driver from earlier today and he gives you back your belts and weapons. It feels good to have a little weight on your hips again. It feels safer.

Most of the gang members have gotten into bed, but the fire is still burning outside. Quickly you change into a pair of dry clothes and sit down on one of the logs around the fireplace to warm up.

Something moves behind you and before you can turn around, a blanket is being placed over your shoulders. Next thing you know, Arthur takes a seat beside you and his eyes trail over your shivering form. "You still cold?"

"Yes.", you answer, returning his stare. "The dress didn't really do a good job to keep me warm."

"But it looked good on ya."

His compliment makes you chuckle softly and a silly grin begins to spread on your face. "Thanks."

"C'mere.", he says, slinging his arm around you and holding you close. The heat of his body seeps through the blanket and your clothes, warming you up over time.

Your eyes are set on the dancing flames and you focus on the slow rising and falling of Arthur's chest until you fall into a deep slumber.

Chapter Text

"Are my eyes deceivin' me?", Sadie calls out in fake disbelief as you approach her and join her at the front porch of the house. "Can it really be that our fine high society lady finally found some time for her friend?"

Guilt pierces your chest like a blade. Sure, she doesn't mean any offense, nor is she genuinely mad, but you still feel bad about it. With everything going on, you truly didn't have the time to sit and chat with her like you used to.

"I do tend to mingle with the common folk every now and then, but do make it quick. I have another garden party with the mayor in an hour.", you joke, your chin raised high in feigned arrogance. It gets a barking laugh out of the woman and you smile.

You watch her cleaning a rifle, her hands moving in practiced motions. There is also a deep crease on her forehead that you don't fail to notice, as if she's worried or upset about something. "Are you okay?"

A sharp breath escapes her and her jaw tenses up. "It's...", she starts and sighs in defeat. "I just don't understand why Dutch ain't sendin' me out on jobs."

Even if one isn't that close to her, it's still common knowledge that she's more a hands-on person. Much to your delight, you in fact are very close to Sadie and this topic has been coming up regularly in your conversations. You'd be lying if you claim that you don't understand her.

"It doesn't seem like he tends to send the women out in general.", you answer in an attempt to smooth her irritation, but it looks like you're achieving the opposite.

She throws her arms up in the air while making a frustrated noise and you duck away before the barrel of the rifle could accidentally hit you. "But you're out all the time!"

That is kind of true, but also not? So far, Dutch has only given you official jobs to be a cover for the boys to appear less suspicious. All the other times you were out, were for Mary or Arthur. Granted, there is also that one spontaneous rescue mission where you got Kieran out of that O'Driscoll camp.

At this point it feels like the action is finding you, rather than the other way around.

"That's different." It's a weak answer, you know it. Sadie only shakes her head harshly, but doesn't respond to it. A sigh leaves your lips and you place a hand on her shoulder, meeting her gaze.

"Next time I leave camp, I'll take you with me, okay? And I don't care if anyone has anything to say against that.", you say in the most sincere and genuine tone you can muster up.

The ghost of a smile falls over her mouth and she turns back to her rifle with an amused huff. "I'll remind ya of that when the time comes."

"And I'll count on it."

In the corner of your eyes, you spot a familiar figure strolling towards you and you can't fight back the wide smile that is beginning to spread on your face. Arthur tips his hat towards the both of you as a greeting.

"Mornin', Ladies.", he says in his deep voice, raspy from all the cigarettes and the heavy southern drawl you've grown so fond of.

For Christ's sake. What has gotten into me?

You feel Sadie's eyes boring into the back of your head and you don't dare meet her gaze, knowing she has that typical teasing smirk plastered on her lips. Lately, you have become the favorite target of certain folk in the camp, regarding your love life.

"Hey, Arthur.", you say after clearing your throat. It's still so strange to look at his face and not find a beard on it.

"Look at you, lookin' like a prince.", Sadie comments in the outlaw's direction and snickers as she studies his features. It's true. His hair might be disheveled again now, but it doesn't hide the neat, fresh haircut from the barber.

Arthur's face contorts, making him look both awkward and bashful. A lot of the gang members have been poking fun at him ever since the boat job and it's more than entertaining to watch him squirm like this.

"Real funny, Mrs. Adler.", is all he says about it and leans his shoulder against one of the pillars. His thumbs are hooked into his weapon belt and he opens his mouth, but gets cut off by the front door opening.

Dutch's head peaks through and his face lights up when his eyes fall on Arthur. "Ah, there you are. Come on, we need to talk."

Disappointment washes over you, but you do your best to mask it. Working so closely together with the outlaw has spoiled you quite a bit. Now you're pretty used to spending the whole day with him, but it looks like that has come to an end.

"Dutch.", Sadie speaks up immediately and turns to face the older man. "When will ya let me come robbin' with you folks?"

An amused chuckle leaves him, but he doesn't answer her question. Instead he vanishes back inside the house with Arthur. "My good lord. A few more like her and we could take over the world."

In the very beginning, when you first joined the gang, you were on decent terms with that man. That has changed after Arthur's abduction back in Clemens Point. Ever since that happened, you've grown to dislike the oh so charismatic leader more and more.

It didn't get any better after befriending Molly a few days ago. Maybe befriending is the wrong word. It's more that the two of you have formed a certain understanding between each other. The thought alone of her holed up in that room upstairs, isolated from the others, makes you shake your head.

Of course you're not dumb enough to voice your discontent for the man out loud. Everyone else still adores him very much. At times, this group strikes you more as a cult than a gang.

Something moves behind the fountain, at the entrance of the camp and you squint your eyes to try and see better. The familiar sound of hooves can be heard coming from that direction.

It's a horse. A horse with a-

An earpiercing scream cuts through the air and you instinctively jump up onto your feet. That is when you manage to get a better look at the rider or rather, the dead man. His decapitated head is tied up to his hands, making it look like he's holding it.

You don't believe you've ever seen him, but you do recognize the work. There are two empty holes in his face where his eyes should be. Similar to what happened with Kieran and a name pops up in your mind.

O'Driscoll.

Before you can even begin to grasp a proper thought, several men come running out of the forest and something flies dangerously close past your head. Quickly, you fall into cover behind one of the pillars and tightly press your back against it.

A short glance to the side tells you that Sadie has done the same and you take your pistol out of it's holster. The same moment the bullet rain stops, you lean to the side and fire a few shots yourself. A pained shout can be heard from one of the men, indicating that you hit your mark.

The people from your own gang are yelling and cursing and you watch them all rushing inside the house. If you wouldn't be this pinned down, you'd have done the same. You throw another glance in Sadie's direction to check on her.

There is a wild look in her eyes and it makes your chest tighten up. She knows it's the O'Driscolls and you can tell that she has thrown all caution to the wind because of that. While their presence sends jolts of anxiety through you, reminding you of your own abduction, it does the opposite for her.

Every mention, every appearance they make, it's like fuel for her. Her flames of hatred burn high like a forest fire and this is one of the opportunities to burn them down as well. Just as you predicted it, she leaves her position, but not to run towards them.

With a puzzled expression, you observe her running behind the house as if the devil himself is on her tail. Oh, but she's right. With everyone so focused on the front of the house, it leaves the back wide open and you don't believe that the O'Driscolls would attack only one side.

"Shit!", you hiss through gritted teeth and muster up all your courage. Bullets and wooden splinters fly over and around your head and you cover your face with both arms. The camp is a chaos, but luckily enough, you don't spot any blood.

Sadie is fast, too fast for you. A flash of her yellow shirt is all you see before she vanishes behind a corner. How she hasn't been shot yet is a miracle with the way she's moving forward.

Once you reach the backside of the house, you make out a few rowing boats on the river and raise your pistol. Not every shot lands, but some of the men collapse where they stand. You try not to think about it.

A familiar voice screams, a mix of rage and frustration. It's a guttural sound, more animal than human and you recognize it almost immediately. With your heart pounding, you fall into a sprint towards the docks.

Something hits your shoulder on your way there and dull pain shoots through your arm. Your eyes dart towards your shoulder and discover that it's thankfully not a bullet hole. You've never been shot before and you plan on keeping it that way.

A man with a green bandana around his neck stands before you, a revolver in one hand. He must have hit you with it. You take a second to study him, noting his young features. No way, can he be any older than Lenny, perhaps even a year younger.

That could be a reason why you're not laying dead on the ground right now. There's a high possibility that he doesn't have any blood on his hands yet. What a shame. His hesitation will be his demise, as it was yours the first time you were forced to raise your weapon against a person. The memory makes your stomach turn.

"You don't want this.", you say, voice shaking from exhaustion and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Maybe you can reason with him, maybe you can save a life today instead of taking it.

He doesn't answer. On the contrary, your words seem to only give him the last bit of motivation he needed. Either that, or it's panick driving him. It doesn't matter now. In the corner of your eyes, you see his wrist twitch and you act on instinct.

Your arm is up before his and you pull the trigger, before you could think of an alternative. The next moment, the boy falls down, his expression a frozen grimace. Something within you stirs, threatening to come up.

The last time you had to throw up from a kill, was the very first one. For some reason, this one hits worse though. Perhaps it's because he was so young, only a kid. Perhaps it's because he hesitated and you didn't. He had more humanity and it lead to his downfall.

He paid the blood price by showing you the mercy that you withheld from him. Another scream rips you out of your daze and you let your legs carry you around the boat house.

You're being met with a small, but brutal massacre. All the O'Driscolls have been reduced to bloody messes, covered in stab wounds and you lock eyes with your friend. Half her face and most of her clothes are drenched in red and she's panting heavily.

There is a fire burning in her widened eyes and it sends a shiver down your spine. This woman is being driven by forces beyond your comprehension. Heavy footsteps are approaching from behind you and you turn around on your heels, gun raised.

Arthur immediately lifts his hands after he comes face to face with the barrel of your pistol and you lower it with a relieved sigh. There's nothing you want more than fall into the safety of his embrace, but the fight hasn't stopped just yet.

"What in the-", the outlaw starts once he notices the pile of dead bodies surrounding you, but Sadie cuts him off.

"It ain't over yet!", she shouts, her energy and spirit never ending. She rushes past you and you find yourself following her into crossfire once more.

After that, it doesn't take long for the rest of the O'Driscolls to be driven away. The small group that's left of them scatters back into the woods and you allow yourself to take a moment of rest. With the adrenaline slowly disappearing, you feel your shoulder pulsating uncomfortably.

Waves of pain course through you when you try to move your right arm and you pull down the sleeve of your blouse. It's red and only a matter of time until it turns into a full blown bruise. A shadow falls over you and you turn your head to meet Sadie.

There is something laying in her expression that you can't quite place and her brown eyes fall on your injury. "Shit, I-" She doesn't finish her sentence.

"It's okay. It'll heal.", you reply and a dry chuckle leaves you. "If I play my cards right then I could get Miss Grimshaw off my back with this."

With a grunt, you pull your sleeve back up and check the surroundings. It doesn't look like anyone is seriously hurt and the camp doesn't look too damaged either. All in all, the gang got away quite well.

After everyone recovers from the shock of the ambush, you all get to fixing up things. You try to lift a barrel, but gasp as your shoulder throbs and aches from the effort. The wood slips out of your fingers and falls down with a loud thud. At least it didn't break.

Someone joins your side, Arthur. The barrel is up in a heartbeat and he turns to you. His eyes scan your face and body, his lips pressed tightly together, forming a thin line. It was only a matter of time until he'd notice there is something up with you.

Knowing that any argument will fall on deaf ears, you push the fabric of your blouse aside and reveal the bruise to him. By now, it has changed color a bit. Arthur takes in a sharp breath as he inspects it and shakes his head in a way a displeased parent would.

"Why aren't you restin'?", he asks, voice strained.

"We need as many hands as possible." The look he gives you is more than enough to tell you what he thinks of your answer. You furrow your eyebrows. "Oh, and you would rest after a something like this?"

"With my shoulder lookin' like a goddamn blueberry? 'Course!" You know his words are a blatant lie and he knows it too, but you also know that there's no reasoning with that man.

Defeated, you follow him towards the house and up the flight of stairs that lead to his room. Gently, yet firmly, he pushes you down to sit on the edge of his bed and you watch him pace around the room in search for something.

It's a small tin box that he snatches from one of the shelves and the mattress shifts under his weight as he makes himself comfortable next to you. "It's from Strauss' wagon.", he murmurs and removes the lid.

You bend slightly forward to get a better look at the contents of the box. By the looks of it, it seems to be some kind of cream. It's almost see through with a milky hue to it. You breathe in, but it doesn't have a smell.

Arthur is sitting close, close enough for your thighs to touch and for his warmth to seep through your clothes. Heat spreads through your body, the same heat you've been experiencing a lot the past few days.

A trembling hand moves up to your collar and you open the first couple of buttons of your blouse to have easier access to your shoulder. This should be a perfectly normal thing, considering that you're hurt. It's not supposed to make you nervous, let alone feel this oddly intimate.

You watch him dip his fingers into the cream and gently spread it over your bruise. For a moment, you hiss at the unexpected coldness of the medicine, but quickly relax. Arthur is careful, the tips of his fingers brushing your skin like a soft breeze.

His lips are slightly pursed in concentration. Whether it is to spread the cream evenly without hurting you or because you're sitting infront of him, more exposed than you've ever been in his presence, you can't tell.

"There.", he mumbles after he's done and puts the lid back onto the box. Hesitantly, you lift your head, meeting his gaze and you swallow a lump in your throat.

You take the moment to study his features, now that there is no beard covering half of his face. A lot of his scars are more visible now, especially the one on his chin and you reach out to touch it.

Your thumb brushes over it and you feel the outlaw's breath hitch. Once again, you find yourself incredibly close to him. Once again, your mind begins to wander to places it shouldn't.

Images flood your head, images of his lips whispering sweet promises into your ears and covering every inch of your body in kisses. It's impossible not to think about such things when he treats you with such care, such kindness.

His hands are always so tender when they touch you and it makes your heart flutter, knowing that that special treatment is reserved for only you. The voice inside you is yelling at you to say something.

But what? There are a thousand things you'd like to tell him, but when you try to grasp them, they slip away. So silence is the only thing hanging in the air, together with unspoken words and either you lack the courage to change that.

But then again, Arthur isn't a man of many words. He let's his actions speak for him like now, when his calloused hand comes up to the side of your head and tugs a loose hairstrand behind your ear.

It stays there, his hand cupping your cheek now and it takes all your willpower to prevent yourself from screaming your lungs out. Slowly, his hand travels down, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw and the curve of your neck.

Every spot he touches sets your skin on fire and you're this close to downright beg him to finally kiss you, devour you, do whatever it takes to relief you from this torment. You twitch involuntarily and he accidentally presses against your shoulder.

Instinctively, you flinch away and hiss in pain and that is all it takes to ruin the moment. You could cry in frustration, really. Arthur stands up and puts the tin box back to it's former place. He clears his throat before speaking up.

"You should really rest that shoulder of yours."

"Mhm."

"I mean it.", he adds with more urgency to his tone. "And feel free to come in here for the cream anytime."

Amused, you raise an eyebrows and curl your lips up into a smirk as an idea pops up in your head. "What if I catch you with your pants down?"

"Now that's no way for a lady to talk.", he counters, chuckling lowly and hooking his thumbs into his belt.

"Is that why you don't want to kiss me?", you blurt out and immediately regret your choice of words. This was supposed to be light and funny banter, not a shameful display of your desperation.

But it's true. He treats you more as the lady you used to be than the outlaw you have become, his opponion of you too high to allow himself to act on his feelings.

Seems like you have struck a chord or hit a nerve with the man. He's stunned, absolutely floored by your boldness and lack of filter. For a split second, you fear that you might have crossed a line, but then you hear his deep voice speak up.

"It ain't that I don't wanna kiss you."

It's that I don't deserve to kiss you. That's what you read from his expression.

"Arthur...", you begin, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. You're on your feet now. "You don't have the right to decide these things for me. You don't have the right to tell me who I deserve and not."

"But that don't change a goddamn thing.", he argues, now equally as aggravated. "You don't want me, you don't want this."

"Excuse me?" His words hit you like a freight train and you poke your finger against his chest. "I think I know pretty well what I want."

He grabs your wrist and you stare at each other for a long time before he let's out a long sigh. "This ain't workin' out."

It's as if someone has ripped the ground away from under your feet and you pull your hand out of his grip. You want to scream, yell at him. "What?", is all you manage to breathe out.

"I ain't the type of man you should settle for. You're so full of...full of life and you shouldn't waste your good years on someone like me."

"How dare you? You let me in, make me fall for you, only to push me away so you can feel sorry for yourself?" You were aware of his self destructive tendencies, but you for some reason never expected to end up caught in them.

"That ain't-"

You don't let him finish. "Shut up! I don't wanna hear one more word from you, Arthur Morgan."

With that you storm past him and out of the room, tears burning hot in your eyes. For the first time ever, you regret getting rid of the time travelling device.

Chapter Text

"Who pissed in your coffee this mornin'?" Sadie seems to materialize out of nowhere next to you and you let out a startled gasp at her sudden appearance.

"What do you mean?", you breathe out and she eyes you from top to bottom. You squirm under her intense stare.

"You look like you're ready to stab a man for breathing wrong."

I do?

A sigh escapes you and you run a hand over your face. It doesn't come as a surprise to you that your fight with Arthur yesterday has left it's mark on you. There surely are some words and actions you regret, but it's as if the outlaw has been swallowed by the earth.

Earlier today, or rather right after you woke up, your eyes were scanning the camp in hopes to catch him, but he was nowhere to be seen. That still is the case. At this point, you might need an iron to straighten out the deep crease between your eyebrows.

"Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise." Sadie rips you out of your thoughts with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Once she notices that you don't find her joke amusing at all, the smirk falters and her expression turns into a more serious one. "Shit, do you...uh wanna talk 'bout that?"

Even though the question comes out as awkward as can be, you appreciate her efforts to be there for you. Maybe that's good. Maybe what you need right now is a distraction.

You give your surroundings a quick look-over to make sure no one is standing close enough to hear you. Afterwards you tell her what happened after Arthur fixed up your shoulder, intentionally leaving out the part where you two almost kissed of course.

Sadie stays silent the entire time, only nodding every now and then to indicate that she's listening. Once your story comes to an end, she shakes her head and looks at something in the distance.

"He'll come around, trust me. My Jakey...", she speaks up and kicks a pebble away. It takes a second for her to continue and when she does, it's with a strained face. "As wonderful as he was, he could still be a moron sometimes. But we always figured things out at the end and so will you."

"I'm just scared that he won't stop pushing me away.", you admit hesitantly. These thoughts have been plaguing you all night and all day and you're afraid that, now that you voiced them out loud, they might come true.

"I heard from the others that he had a pretty unfortunate love life before he met you. What was her name again? Mary? They were serious, right?"

You nod before answering. "They were engaged, but she left him eventually. Married someone else after that."

"Jesus.", she breathes out with a surprised huff and crosses her arms infront of her chest.

You recall Mary's words from back in Saint Denis, when Arthur went to get her brooch back and left you two alone. She told you that it would work out for you and him. The memory sends a stinging pain through your chest and you immediately shake it off.

It will be fine, I had told Francis. Nothing will go wrong, I had said.

Thinking about your old friend, makes your lips curl up into a bittersweet smile. He would be so incredibly pissed if he'd know what you've been doing this entire time. Robbing, killing, fooling around with outlaws.

Only that it feels anything but fooling around when it comes to Arthur. Every private and intimate moment with that man always leaves you dreaming and hoping, fantasizing about a life together. Do you have the same effect on him? Is that the reason he's pushing you away?

Sadie bumps her shoulder against yours (your good shoulder, thankfully), startling you. Something flickers in her brown eyes. Something mischievous.

"Come on. We're leavin'." With that, she strolls towards the horses and you hastily follow her.

"To where?", you ask, confusion lacing your voice.

"You promised to take me out of the camp, didn't you?" She throws you a knowing look over her shoulder and mounts a horse. As puzzled as you are, you still mimick her actions and get ontop of Penthesilea.

"But we were talking about jobs. Sadie, I don't really think that robbing a homestead is going to make me feel better."

Her long, blonde hair falls over her shoulders in waves as she tilts her head back to laugh. "No! We're just gonna take a walk in town, do some sightseein', maybe visit a saloon."

All that sounds harmless enough, but knowing Sadie, that could very well change throughout the day. Going out with her will either end with the both of you absolutely hammered and having to go through a hellish hangover the next day or you find yourself running from a bunch of lawmen.

Now that you think about it, you probably shouldn't narrow it down to just the law. She isn't picky when it comes to pissing off people. Excited laughter cuts through the air, drowning out the sound of your horses' hooves and you can't help but smile, seeing your friend like this.

"It'll be fun! I can feel it!", she shouts in your direction and you sigh in amusement.

"As long as you behave.", your voice comes out in a teasing tone and she furrows her eyebrows as she looks at you.

"I can behave."

"Sure. Arthur told me what a normal shopping trip with you looks like."

An offended gasp can be heard from her and she places a hand on her chest, clutching her non-existent pearls. "I can't believe he'd go behind my back like this and tell you."

The rest of the ride to Saint Denis goes by with some more banter and chatter and you hitch your horses on the side of the road once you make it to the center. You're not sure if you will ever get used to the smell here.

"How's your shoulder?", Sadie asks and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. With everything that's been happening, you totally forgot about that bruise of yours. Whatever cream Arthur used on you, it's doing fantastic work.

Your fingers carefully press against your shoulder and a mild, dull pain spread in your arm. Granted, you should probably still take it a bit easy, but all in all your arm is almost fully functional again. "Pretty good actually."

"Good enough to get rowdy tonight?" A sinister smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth and you shoot her a warning look.

"No fighting.", you say in a firm tone.

"Of course!" She snickers, making it obvious that getting into trouble is exactly what she was thinking of. "I meant drinks."

"Yeah. Sure."

With it being noon at the moment, you don't really feel like you're in the mood for drinks just yet. Fortunately, neither does Sadie and she motions with her chin towards a store. It is a tailor, but a tad less fancy than the one Trelawny has dragged you too.

"What? You want a new dress or something?", you ask, amusement evident in your tone and she let's out a scoff.

"No." Her response comes out faster than a bullet and she examines your attire. "You got the guns and the scars, but there's somethin' important missin', outlaw."

Something within you stirs upon hearing the nickname. It's not wrong. That is precisely what you are, an outlaw, but being referred to as one makes you uneasy. Before she could sense that anything is wrong, you school your features and match her energy.

"And what's that?"

"Do you even to ask? Ya need a hat, sweetheart!", she says in a matter of fact way and it gets a chuckle out of you.

Next thing you know, you're being dragged by the wrist towards the tailor and she pushes open the door. The shopkeeper and some of the customers there turn their heads in your direction after that energetic entrance and you shoot them an apologetic smile.

Sadie picks up a bunch of cowboy hats from the wall and places them on your head, one by one. Her lips are pursed in concentration as she studies every single piece closely and you raise your brow. "Do I have a say in what I'll wear?"

"Obviously. I'm just narrowin' it down for ya.", she mutters, lost in thought and you decide to leave her to do her thing.

After a few minutes of her mumbling incoherent words under her breath as she tries out almost every single hat on you, a satisfied smile begin to spread on her freckled face. Seems like you got a winner.

Finally she allows you to see what she picked out as she hands you a handheld mirror. It's a pinch front style hat that is made out of a dark leather that matches your belt. The band is a similar color, but lighter, complimenting the accessory quite nicely.

"That one is perfect.", you breathe out, impressed by her ability to pinpoint what you'd like. Her satisfied smile becomes a proud grin at your reaction to her choice and you go to pay for it.

Afterwards you two spend the time with some errand running and window shopping. There are some rifles she eyes at the gunsmith, but none of them end up being what she's looking for. The next stop is a small restaurant and by the time you leave it, the sun has set.

Sadie stretches her back, cracking and popping some bones with a pleased sigh and she cracks a yawn. "I don't know about you, but I could go for a drink."

"Same." You don't feel like returning back to camp just yet. Sure, you could maybe run into Arthur there and try to talk things out with him. Though, there is also the possibility that he's not there and then you'll be left sitting alone at the campfire, spiraling. Tonight you don't want to go down that rabbit hole that is your complicated feelings towards the outlaw.

Sadie takes you to a small saloon, located more on the edge of the city. The area doesn't strike you as too safe, but it's not too worrying either. You've budded heads with worse than some Saint Denis thugs.

Leaning against the bar counter, you two order a glass of whisky each and you bring it to your lips.

Oh, sweet sherry, how much I miss you.

"Have you talked to Dutch again about joining on jobs?", you ask and a shadow falls over your friend's expression. As if you hit a nerve, she downs the alcohol in one go and brings the glass down with a loud thud.

"No, but I don't think it's much use anyways.", she murmurs and signals the bartender to give her another drink. "Even though I went all out with that O'Driscoll trash durin' the ambush."

Memories of that fight flood your mind, images of bloody corpses scattered on the docks. A shiver runs down your spine and you take another sip, hoping that the alcohol will ease the tension in your muscles.

Maybe it's better to move onto a lighter topic. "Thank you for helping with the hat, by the way. I really like it."

Your words get a cheeky grin out of her and she nudges your good shoulder with hers. "It's the least I could do for you."

"What do you mean?", you ask, confused, but then you roll your eyes in feigned annoyance. "Listen, don't worry about how I feel. Arthur and I only had a fight. Not a falling out."

I hope.

"It's not that.", she counters and lowers her gaze. Suddenly, the air between you becomes awkward and tense and she plays around with her glass. "You've been so kind to me since the beginnin'."

Quickly, your hand shoots forward and you place it on her arms, giving it a gentle squeeze. When she looks up to meet your eyes, you smile softly at her.

"Of course, my friend." Then you clear your throat and order two more drinks. The whisky is going down faster than you expected, but it's nice. "Enough with that sentimental mood now. Let's have some fun!"

It doesn't stop there. The alcohol flows like honey, becoming easier to swallow with every sip and you drink.

And drink.

And drink.

Sadie says something that you can't quite make out, but that isn't stopping you from finding it incredibly funny. You bend over, cackling and she does the same. Some of the customers throw irritated looks your way, but you don't pay them any mind.

Another glass is being placed infront of you and you furrow your eyebrows. "I didn't order that."

"Consider it a small gift from a kind stranger.", someone next to you says and you turn your head to face a man who looks to be your age.

He's rather handsome with his bright green eyes and curly blonde hair, but maybe the alcohol is clouding your judgement. You take a moment to study his features some more, noting how his eyebrows are darker than his hair and how there are dimples on his cheeks when he smiles.

"Might the stranger extend his kindness and tell me his name?", you ask, playing along. Your positive response makes his smile go wider, exposing a set of bright white teeth.

The shirt he's wearing looks old and stained and his pants are dusty, but the skin on his hands is smooth without any callouses. Nothing about this man indicates that he has worked even a day in his life, yet his outfit begs to differ.

"Jim.", he says, extending his hand out to you and you shake it. Indeed, it's very smooth almost delicate. "And you?"

You give him your name and bring the glass to your lips. Before taking a sip, you subtly breathe in the scent of the whisky, but nothing stands out to you. It passes the taste test too.

Maybe you're reading too much into it. So what if that guy is from the upper class? He could be living a double life to get away from something. It wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary.

"So tell me, Jim, what is someone like you doing in a place like this?", you ask and watch him from the corner of your eyes. Sadie shifts in her seat next to you, listening in on the conversation.

The man doesn't look unsettled by your suspicion. On the contrary, he chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. "Am I that bad of an actor?"

His reaction makes you relax and you allow yourself to smile. "I don't mean any offense, but you don't look like you have lifted a single finger in your whole life."

"No offense taken, my good lady. You're correct, I haven't."

"Then why pretend? Saint Denis has some high-end saloons with liquor that doesn't taste like dog piss." The tipsy state you're in has loosened your tongue quite a bit.

"But they're filled with...snobs.", he counters, wrinkling his nose.

A sly smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth and you cock your eyebrow. "And you're trying to tell me you're not like the others?"

For a moment you're afraid that you might be taking it too far, crossing a line of some sort, but amusement flickers in his eyes. He seems to be enjoying your boldness.

"If you give me a chance then I could prove to you that I'm not."

Sadie let's out a snort next to you and you give her shin a light, but firm kick. You don't think that it's going to go anywhere with Jim. Arthur stills occupies every nook and cranny in your mind.

"I'll think about it."

Jim nods, content with your answer. "Don't worry, I don't intend to rush you. Rome wasn't build in a day either."

The way he speaks makes you smile and you lower your gaze to look at the glass infront of you. Sadie shoots a knowing glance your way and you playfully slap her arm.

"That's a mighty fine gun you got there." Your attention is back on Jim and his eyes are set on the pistol at your side.

"Can you shoot?", you ask and his eyes go wide in shock before he shakes his head in a bashful way.

"No, I seem to never get the aim right.", he declares with a soft chuckle. Casually, he lift his own glass and swirls the liquid inside it around. "Perhaps you could teach me some time."

Hope flickers under that confident, playful mask of his and you open your mouth to answer, but a deep voice beats you to it.

"You better mind your own business, boy."

The hair on the back of your neck stands up upon listening to that familiar southern drawl. Arthur, your Arthur, is standing next to you and you rub your eyes to make sure that it's not some hallucination your drunk mind has come up with.

"Oh, shit.", Sadie hisses behind you, visibly delighted by the unexpected turn of events, but you, on the other hand, would rather have the ground swallow you whole.

"What are you doing here?", you breathe out in disbelief and maybe a bit of horror as well.

"What I'm doin'? I'm gettin' the two of you home.", he says in a matter of fact way. He stands before you like a dream. Broad shoulders, hat tilted low and his large hands on the belt.

I think I had too much to drink.

Jim is looking between the two of you, confused by Arthur's sudden appearance and hostility. "I'm sorry, friend. I didn't know she is your girl."

His girl...oh, I'm definitely too hammered.

"First of all, I ain't your friend. I ain't nothin' to you and neither is the Lady here, so do yourself a favor and bother someone else.", Arthur snarls in a low, threatening voice that doesn't tolerate any backtalk.

Jim straightens his back and raises his hands. "I didn't mean any offense, sir. We were just talking."

The outlaw moves his jaw, but before he could do more damage, you extend your arm and pull at the sleeve of his leather jacket. "What is your problem, Arthur?"

"C'mon. We're leavin'.", he says, completely ignoring your question and he makes his way towards the entrance.

Sadie snickers, but downs the contents of her glass and follows him. Quickly, you mouth an apology to Jim, but he waves it off with a warm smile and you rush out of the saloon.

Cool night air fills your lungs as you take a deep breath, but it does little to nothing to calm your nerves. It clears up the fog in your head, in fact, leaving you seething in anger. Heat rises up to your face as you think about how much of a fool Arthur has made you look like back there.

With your hands balled up into fists, you stomp towards the man and grab him by the shoulder to face you. In the corner of your eyes, you see Sadie become suddenly very interested in a lamp post.

"Have you lost your mind?", you snap at the outlaw and he looks at you as if you grew a second head.

"Have I lost my mind?", he repeats, absolutely baffled and your mouth hangs open. For a while the both of you just stare at each other through narrowed eyes and with flared nostrils until you decide that it's enough.

This isn't something you want to take out in public. The streets of Saint Denis are buzzing with life and you don't want to draw more attention to you. So with a quiet huff you make your way towards the horses and your trio rides back to camp in awkward silence.

As you hitch up Penthesilea, Sadie taps you lightly on your shoulder and you turn around.

"I'll go ahead.", she whispers and you nod. It's obvious what she's trying to do with this.

Talk to him.

Arthur goes to follow the woman, but stops in his tracks when you softly call out to him. It's very late and you don't want to wake anyone up with your shouting.

"What was going on back there?", you ask, more calm now than you were back in the city. Anger still burns in your chest, but not as hot anymore.

When he doesn't answer, you let out an irritated sigh. "Why won't you talk to me? I thought we were fine. More than fine even until you made it very clear yesterday that you don't want this, that you don't want me. Then when someone talks to me you act like some territorial ape. What do you want from me?"

It's difficult to make out his expression in this darkness, but it's evident that he's carrying out an internal battle with himself. His shoulders are tense and his chest rises and falls heavily.

"I...I'm real bad at this.", he mutters after a while and you dare take a step closer to him. Hesitantly, you take his hand and bring it up to your chest, holding onto it tightly.

The warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin under your fingers has become so painfully familiar.

"That's okay.", you answer in a hushed tone and you take another careful step. He let's you in, let's you stay close to him so that you feel his breath caressing your face and you remove his hat to get a better look at him.

"I had a son once. Isaac was his name."

Your heart drops at the sudden confession. You don't make a single sound, don't move a single muscle. He's finally opening up to you and you don't want to push him.

"It was years ago. I met this waitress, Eliza.", he continues, voice strained and raspy as if he's fighting to hold himself back. "I didn't stay with them, but visited as much as I could. I shared my earnings from the gang, so they could live somewhat comfortable."

His fingers twitch in your grasp and you feel his thumb circling over the back of your hand as he continues.

"One day I came over and was met with nothin' but two graves. Some folk robbed and killed them."

"I'm so sorry, Arthur." Your voice is trembling and he shakes his head.

"Don't be, sweetheart."

For the longest time, both your breathing was the only sound aside from the rustling of leaves and an owl making itself known occasionally. Sadie wasn't kidding when she called his lovelife unfortunate, but you don't think that anyone knows about this. Aside from Hosea and Dutch maybe.

"And you know how it ended with Mary.", he then says and you nod to yourself. There isn't much context needed regarding that topic.

"You don't have to worry about me or us for that matter.", you answer and he let's out a deep sigh, but you continue before he can respond. "I'm part of the gang. We're together in this."

Mary was right. You understand the way he lives his life. Hell, you're living his life yourself. Granted, there is no divine shield protecting you from the dangers that come with this line of work and you're never 100% guaranteed to see the next day.

But that is just the risk of living.

"I'm not a man that you should-"

"Arthur Morgan." You say his name with stern emphasis and he immediately shuts his mouth. Your hands find their way up to his face, cupping his cheeks. "I don't care if you're the man I should be with or not. You're the man I want and that is the end of the matter."

A defeated sigh escapes him and he grabs one of your hands, tender lips brushing over the palm. The gesture sends jolts of electricity through you and heat boils up in your lower stomach.

"You're gonna be the end of me, woman.", he mumbles in amusement.

Chapter Text

A flash of gray hair in the corner of your vision catches your attention and you look up from your rifle. There hasn't been an opportunity to use that weapon yet, but you were playing with the thought of practicing with it.

Lately you haven't had the time to build a makeshift training ground and you don't really need one for your handheld gun anymore. Besides, you rarely take the rifle with you when you leave the camp, but it would still be smart to get somewhat familiar with it.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you?", Hosea asks and you hastily shake your head with a smile. You could never say no to his company.

"Not at all.", you answer and with a grunt, he sits down next to you. A sharp cough escapes him, but he quickly catches himself again. His eyes are set on the rifle that you're inspecting. "Is that one of the weapons Lenny and Arthur stole from these Lemoyne Raiders?"

"It is. Lenny gave it to me, but I haven't used it yet."

"Well, do you know how to shoot a rifle?"

Before answering him, you bite on your lower lip and lean back into your chair. "Nope."

The older man let's out a thoughtful hum as he nods to himself. "The way things are going, I think you might wanna change that."

He's absolutely right. It seems like every single front is closing in, leaving the gang no room to run away or even take a  breath. With the Pinkertons, O'Driscolls and other people on your tail, you will need all the firepower you can get.

A sigh crosses your lips when you wonder about how long it will take for you all to be driven away from Saint Denis and Shady Belle. Yet another state you will end up wanted in.

"Dutch's gut feeling is saying that we can make it big this time.", Hosea rips you out of your thoughts and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his words. "And I must agree."

"Do you mean the bank?", you ask, watching his features move as his mind works. You have heard talk about robbing the city bank, but nothing concrete.

"Precisely. We're working on a plan right now." He proceeds to tell you about some distraction he will create in order to draw all the lawmen to one spot. That way Dutch and the others can slip into the bank without worrying too much about getting caught.

Once he's done explaining the finer details to you, you nod. "Sounds good."

"I was thinking about going to Saint Denis today to scout for a good spot. Are you busy?" Something flickers in his eyes as he asks the question, a mix of anticipation and delight.

"I'd love to!", you say, faster than intended and you clear your throat. Quickly, you rush to your tent to store away the rifle and together with Hosea you make your way to the horses.

The ride to the city is filled with friendly chatter. It's mainly Hosea telling you about the stuff the gang used to get into back in their early days. He's a fantastic storyteller, always having your full attention.

There is so much you'd want to ask him, but decide that it's better to keep your mouth shut. You'd like to see if he knows about Arthur's son, Isaac. The outlaw hasn't told you anything besides the fact that he existed and died, but you don't want to push it. You shouldn't.

It's already a huge deal that he mentioned it to you in the first place, considering he's such a closed off person in general. Even when you believe that you know him and have him kind of figured out, you don't. But you're not any better.

Arthur doesn't know who you are or where you're from, but then again, the person you used to be is long gone.

"So I heard that you and Arthur got into a disagreement the other day?" An involuntary scoff escapes you and you immediately feel bad when Hosea gives you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no, it's not that. I just didn't expect for it to get around like this.", you answer, letting your gaze wander around. "But we're on good terms again. Arthur and I, I mean."

Another thoughtful hum can be heard coming from Hosea. "That's good to hear. The boy needs some time with these things. I'm not telling you to put up with all his bad habits, but I want you to know that he cares."

"I know." A soft smile creeps up your face as your mind begins to be flooded with images and thoughts of the outlaw.

"He might not be what one would call a chivalrous gentleman, he's far from that mind you, but he's loyal and good when it counts."

The topic of Arthur and your complicated relationship with him soon dies down the deeper you ride into Saint Denis. "I was thinking to look for something as far away as possible from the bank.", he suggests.

"Do we already know what the distraction is supposed to look like?", you ask, giving him a curious look and the ghost of a smile hushes over his face.

"Lenny and Arthur didn't only get weapons from these Raiders. They brought some explosives too."

Your eyes widen in shock and you whip your head around to face him. "You want to blow something up?"

Hosea throws you a warning look and you quickly close your mouth. Your voice had come out too loud. But surely they won't be using all of the explosives the two men have stolen from Shady Belle? It's enough to destroy a whole building.

That's when it clicks in your mind, the last puzzle piece falling into place. They in fact do plan on blowing up a building. That would be enough to draw out every single police officer in this damned city. A shiver runs down your spine when you imagine the consequences.

"That's quite a big thing though. If we get caught..." The rest of your sentence is left unspoken, but there is no need to finish it. It's obvious, judging by the man's expression, that he's aware of the risks. These are some high stakes.

"We have a plan and any plan can work out just fine if executed properly.", he argues with his gaze fixed straight forward at the road. That might be true, but so far the gang has had some bad luck regarding all their plans lately.

Valentine wasn't supposed to escalate. Rhodes wasn't supposed to escalate. Now this? You understand that you need more money, one last big score to be able to finally leave this place for good, but it worries you. If anything, and that could be the tiniest thing, would go wrong then it might end up worse than Blackwater.

But you don't voice these concerns. There is no need to plant doubt. If you all do it with enough confidence then the chance of success might become higher.

"So this distraction.", you start, scanning the street to make sure no one can hear you. "What about the civilians?"

"I was thinking about an abandoned warehouse or something like that. Of course we won't be able to eliminate the risk of anyone getting hurt entirely, but we can narrow it down."

It leaves a bad taste on your tongue, but you don't argue it. After a few moments of silence, Hosea goes to hitch up his horse on the side of the road and you do the same. He stretches his back with a groan and looks around.

"How about we split up for now and ask around individually? If anyone asks questions, tell them that you're looking for company storage."

You nod and watch him disappear around the corner. This part of the city is filled with warehouses and factories. The air here is even more difficult to breathe in, but it's only today that you have to linger in this part of the city. Hopefully.

As you walk around, trying to find someone who looks like they could give you the answers you need, you spot a familiar mop of curly blonde hair. It's the same face, the same dimples and the same dashing smile that you have seen at the saloon with Sadie before Arthur stomped in so rudely.

Instead of the worn set of clothes from that night, Jim is wearing a neat three piece suit. It fits him more, but at the same time he looks kind of out of place and uncomfortable in it as if the fabric is made out of a sturdy material.

Without him noticing it, you walk up to him and tap his shoulder. "Excuse me, kind stranger."

He turns around in a swift motion and his entire face lights up in recognition when his bright green eyes fall on your form. Something shifts in his demeanor as if a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

"It's so good to see you again!", he exclaims with excitement, but then his expression changes into a worried mask. "I hope it all turned out fine with your friend."

Heat rises up to your face as you think back to the scene Arthur had caused. Remembering it still fills you with embarrassment. "Yes, we talked it out. It's all good now."

"I want to apologize again. I had no idea that you were...", he stumbles over the last few words, struggling to finish the sentence and you wave it off.

"Don't worry about it. Him and I...it's a complicated situation."

"I understand." Something similar to relief seems to wash over him. With the conversation slowly dying down, you begin to awkwardly step from one foot to another.

"Would you like to have a drink? Coffee or tea maybe?", he then asks and you offer him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, but now is not a good time."

His eyebrows shoot up and he quickly raises his hands, looking almost embarrassed. "Oh, no, I didn't mean anything by my offer! I just thought that-"

"No, don't worry. I know.", you interrupt him with an amused chuckle. "I actually don't have the time right now. I'm here on...a business matter."

Jim studies your face, visibly interested by your statement. "Business, you say? I didn't know you were a business woman."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Jim."

"Touché and it's James. My name is James." It only makes sense that he didn't use a real name back in the saloon, but this isn't the best fake name either. It's not a difficult task to connect these two together, but you don't comment on it.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, James.", you say, getting a cheeky grin out of him. He fidgets with his hands as his gaze wanders around the tall buildings surrounding you.

"May I ask what business you're here for?", he asks and you cross your arms infront of your chest.

"I'm looking for storage." It doesn't make you feel too good, having to lie to him, but it's not like you have much of a choice either.

Much to your surprise, his eyes light up. "I can help you with that, actually. There is a warehouse we're looking to sell. If you're interested, I could make you a decent deal. You know, with a discount for family and friends."

At the last sentence, James throws in a friendly wink and you force yourself to smile.

This is horrible. I'm horrible.

"Is it possible to look at it right now?", you ask, trying to hide the hope in your voice and he nods.

"Of course. It's not that far away from here."

As he begins to lead the way, your arm shoots forward and you grab his sleeve. He stops dead in his tracks and turns around with a puzzled expression.

"Actually, I'm here with my business partner. It would be better to find him, so he can see it too.", you say and notice dread spreading on his face.

"Is it your friend from the saloon?" His voice comes out almost careful like he doesn't want to hear your answer and you can't blame him. James probably doesn't think too fondly of Arthur and you're not holding his reaction against him.

"No, it's someone else." Your words earn you a relieved sigh from the man and together you start looking for Hosea.

It doesn't take long to find the conman. By the looks of it, he didn't stray too far away from where you left your horses. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when he spots you and he shakes James' hand, giving him a fake name.

Briefly, you explain your encounter with the other man and your conversation about the empty warehouse. Something flickers in his expression and he looks at you almost like a proud father. Instinctively, you straighten your back.

As James leads the two of you to the place, Hosea leans over to you and speaks in a lowered voice. "How'd you meet this guy?"

"I ran into him at the saloon one night.", you whisper and he nods to himself.

"And you trust him?"

It takes a few heartbeats for you to answer. Trust is a strong word and you're not sure if you'd use it in this instance, but so far James hasn't given you a reason to doubt him. "Well, I think he's being genuine."

That's apparently a good enough answer for him and he drops the topic. It fills you with joy, knowing that someone like Hosea trusts and values your opinion like this. Lying to James this much has left you feeling guilty and awful, but at least you can find some pleasure to it all.

After crossing a few streets and turning around a couple corners, you arrive at a large building and James fishes keys out of his pocket. With a click, the front door opens and he steps aside to let you enter first.

Dust is flying around in the air and you cough into your fist. There is a wet, almost moldy smell and you wrinkle your nose. "How long has this place been standing empty?"

"A while.", James answers awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. "We've been trying to sell it for ages now."

Hosea makes a round, inspecting the walls and steel pillars that hold the structure up. All of the windows are in tact, but covered in grime, making it difficult for sunlight to enter. At the other side of the warehouse are metal stairs that seem to be leading up to some kind of office.

"I understand if you want more time to think it over.", James says, handing you a small card. "If you want to look at it again or have any questions, you can find me under this address."

With a mumbled 'thank you', you pocket the card and you all leave the building. Once you're outside, you fill your lungs with fresh air, but it still feels like there is a thick layer of dust coating your insides.

"Thank you so much, James.", you breathe out, you and Hosea shaking his hand.

"Oh, don't thank me. You're doing me a favor by taking that place off my hands.", he jokes, chuckling and bids you farewell.

Yes, that place will be gone alright.

As you watch him disappear into the distance, you can't help but feel even worse than you did throughout this entire interaction. He seems so nice and lovely and you're over here taking advantage of these traits that are so rare to find in people already.

Hosea praises your efforts while you mount your horses and return back to camp. "You did fantastic today. I'll make sure to tell Dutch and then I'll get back to you about how to proceed."

"Okay.", you croak out, only listening with one ear. It's a big thing you accomplished, yes. This will probably bring you higher in the gang's hierarchy, which is something you aspired in the very beginning.

Now you're just left feeling strangely off like when you bite into something and the consistency isn't what you expected. Maybe you're blowing this out of proportions. How long have you known James? Not long at all.

Then why does it feel wrong? A sigh escapes you as you push these thoughts to the far back of your mind. Once you're back in camp, you will seek out Sadie or Arthur and try to distract yourself.

Only that the image you're greeted with isn't anything you were ready for. Dutch, Lenny and Arthur are standing on the front porch of the large house, looking like they were run over by several horses.

Worry pierces your chest like a blade and you rush over to the three men. Your eyes scan Arthur's scratched up face and disheveled hair. At this point, the shadow of a beard is starting to take form on him.

"What happened?", Hosea asks before you can and he joins your side.

Your gaze wanders to the other two men. Lenny looks to be in a similar state as Arthur, but Dutch seems to have been hit the hardest. Blood is covering most of his forehead and his black hair is matted with the red liquid. He's holding his head, groaning and hissing.

"It was a set-up.", he grumbles through gritted teeth. His features aren't contorted in pain, but in fury. Flames of rage are burning high behind his cold, calculating eyes. "Bronte set us up with the trolley station."

Dread washes over you as you widen your eyes. Something must have happened for Angelo Bronte to set them up like that. Did Dutch insult him at the mayor's party? You throw Arthur a questioning look over your shoulder and he softly shakes his head.

Hosea and Dutch disappear into the house to talk more about what exactly happened and you place both hands on Arthur's shoulder blades. He mutters a few protests, but let's you guide him inside as well and up into his room.

There you gently push him down to sit on the bed and you search for something to clean the wounds and scratches with. It's funny how the situation is reversed now and you can only hope that it won't end in a fight this time.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?", you ask as you wet a clean cloth and softly dab it against his cheek. A pained hiss escapes his lips, but he doesn't flinch away under your touch.

"There was no money at the station. We barely scraped a few dollars together."

"That's much I understood.", you murmur, fully focused on getting all the glass shards out of his clothes and hair.

Arthur proceeds to tell you about the police chase, the crash and Dutch hitting his head. It's odd that Hosea and you didn't catch wind of any of that happening while you were in Saint Denis, but then again you were far away from the station.

"But what were you and Hosea doin'?"

"Planning the distraction for the bank heist."

"You found somethin' good?"

This isn't a topic you want to talk about, but you still force out an answer. "We found an empty warehouse to blow up. It's at the edge of town."

An approving sound comes out of his throat and you put the cloth away after finishing your work. It doesn't look like he got seriously injured and you sigh in relief.

"Your beard is growing back.", you comment, studying the stubbles with your lips curled up.

"You want me to shave?" His question isn't meant to be a joke. The look in his blue eyes is sincere and you bite back the silly grin that is threatening to take form on your lips. It makes you oddly happy, seeing that he'd shave it if it's something you'd want.

"No, I miss your beard. It suits you.", you answer and notice his shoulders relaxing. Judging by his reaction, it doesn't look like he wanted to shave either. You move your hand to cup his cheek and plant a gentle kiss on the other. "But you should rest up."

As you get up and your way towards the door, he calls out to you. You stand frozen in your tracks and turn around, worried that he might be more I jured than he has lead you to believe.

"Stay. Please.", he says in a low voice and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"Arthur-"

"No, I'm bein' an idiot aren't I? You don't have to stay here, sweetheart, I'm fine."

"No, I want to stay with you.", you say, voice stern and certain. His lips curl up ever so slightly as he moves aside for you to lay down next to him on the small mattress.

With his strong arms wrapped around your body and your head resting on his chest, you close your eyes and listen to the steady sound of his breathing.

Chapter Text

"We can blow that building up, alright, but we'd need to get inside. The pillars looked unstable to me.", Hosea explains into the round and everyone nods to themselves.

Dutch, Arthur and you are sitting on the balcony upstairs and listening to Hosea's plan regarding the distraction for the bank heist. He hasn't confided you in the finer details, wanting to have you present when he talks to the others.

"Didn't you say that the place was locked?", Arthur chimes in, scratching his cheek. The beard is a bit more visible now and you feel your lips curl up ever so slightly.

"It is, but I know how to get the keys and this is where you come on in.", the older man answers and his eyes land on you. "You said you knew him from before. I think, you should organize a meeting and get the keys from him."

It makes absolute sense for you to take the initiative in this, yes, but the weight of it makes you anxious. "Are you suggesting, that I steal them?"

"Precisely."

Everyone's gazes are on you and you feel an uncomfortable heat creep up into your face, but you mask your nervousness. Stealing something this small shouldn't put such pressure on you, but given the reason and importance behind it makes it a huge task.

"I can do that.", you finally manage to bring out and a pleased smile forms on Dutch's face.

"Perfect then!", he exclaims, throwing his arms into the air. "Whatever you need for the job, Miss, don't hesitate to ask. This is of great importance, after all."

You nod at his words and listen with only one ear as the conversation moves to another topic. The cogs and gears in your head are working on overdrive while you think of a good way to betray James yet again. The thought alone sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

As you get up from the chair to leave the balcony, Arthur falls into step beside you. His blue eyes fixate you from the side. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Tilting your head slightly, you contemplate his offer. Having a competent gun like him there would definitely make you feel more relaxed, but James isn't too fond of the outlaw. His presence might compromise your plans.

"No, that would be a bad idea.", you answer and shoot him a look that pretty much says 'after everything you've done to the poor man'.

Arthur immediately raises his hands in defence and shakes his head. "Hey, that ain't my fault. It was just one of 'em things."

"Sure. It's always one of them things with you." Your voice comes out more joking than upset and it earns you an easy and quick smirk from him. Then it vanishes as soon as it had appeared and is being replaced by a serious look.

"But you do need someone there with you. If things go bad..." Arthur leaves the rest unspoken and you nod.

"I know, I know. I already have someone in mind for the job."

"You do? Who?"

He follows your knowing gaze until his eyes land on a certain blonde woman, who is inspecting one of her guns at the moment. An amused scoff leaves his throat and he hooks his thumbs into his weapon belt.

"Sadie?", he ask, already knowing your answer.

"Exactly."

You wouldn't want anyone else riding with you (besides Arthur of course) and you trust her to have your back if things get ugly, which they most likely won't. Besides, you promised her to take her with you on a job at some point and James has seen her face at the saloon. It might be suspicious to bring someone new.

"Will you be leavin' now?", Arthur wants to know and leans against one of the pillars, crossing his legs.

"If she's ready, yes. I just want it to be over as quickly as possible."

A sigh leaves your lips afterwards and you run a hand over your face. Hopefully you all will be able to leave this place for good, once the heist is done with. And hopefully you won't run into James when he notices your betrayal.

"Are you sure you don't want me there? I'm not questionin' Sadie's competence of course.", the outlaw says and takes your hand in his. There is a certain hesitancy in that action, as if he's not sure you will let him touch you. "It's just that, this job is not not dangerous."

"I'm fine, don't worry. It's not the first time I'm stealing something."

And James won't suspect anything anyways.

Before pulling your hand away, you give his a gentle and reassuring squeeze. A smile forms on your face, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes. Arthur's fingers brush over yours as you turn away and walk towards Sadie.

Something flickers in her eyes when she lifts her head to meet your gaze, smirking. "Hello there."

"Are you busy?", you ask and she lifts her eyebrow in curiosity.

"Not really.", she answers, her voice laced with anticipation. She knows from your tone and expression that something is up.

"So remember how I told you that I'll take you with me on a job? Are you still interested?"

The woman's smirk turn into a wide grin and excitement washes over her face as she jumps up to her feet. "Are ya seriously askin' me that? When are we leavin'?"

"I was thinking about right now.", you answer, chuckling.

Next thing you know, she's dragging you towards the horses and you explain the plan to her during the ride. A thoughtful hum can be heard from her direction.

"And this guy isn't suspectin' anythin'?" Wariness laces her tone, but you don't share it. Rather confident, you shake your head.

"It didn't look like that to me when Hosea and I talked to him."

"Well, if anything goes to shit just say the word and I'll start shootin' up the place.", she exclaims with a heavy drawl and fishes a revolver out of her weapon belt to underline her words.

"Will do.", you murmur under your breath, hoping it won't come to that.

After a while the two of you find yourselves in a rather fancy neighborhood. Actually, you recognize riding through here in the coach with Hosea, Dutch and Arthur, back when you attended that garden party. James must live only a few houses away from that place.

You hitch your horse on the side of the street and take out the card he has given you. Checking if you're at the correct address, you step into the front yard and walk towards the door. Sadie is following close behind you, her hand always placed close to her holster.

After you ring the doorbell, it takes a few seconds for the large double door to be cracked open. An unfamiliar face greets you. It belongs to an old man with silver, slicked back hair and a face that strongly reminds you of an owl, but not in the same way the mayor did when you met him.

"How can I help you?", he asks in a slow way, dragging out pretty much every single word.

Clearing your throat, you show him the card James has given you. "I'm here on business matters."

His deep brown eyes read the delicately printed letters on that small piece of paper before nodding and he steps aside. With a quick look that you throw Sadie over your shoulder, you walk into the house.

The hallway is open and filled with all sorts of plants. It makes you feel like you're more in a botanical garden than a normal residency. The walls are painted in light colors and the floor is made out of white marble that reflects the sunlight coming through the many windows.

"If you'll follow me.", the old man rips you out of your thoughts and takes you up a flight of stairs, leading you into an office.

The room has a high ceiling with a chandelier hanging down in the middle and the walls are covered in book shelves. Your guess is that most of these books haven't even been read and are only here for decoration.

James is sitting at a wooden desk that is adorned with fine carvings and it seems like that piece of furniture is far too big for him. He's not a man of small built, but his surroundings really aren't doing him any favors. The wide windows behind him drown the entire office in warm sunlight.

Unfortunately there aren't any plants in sight, making the room a vast contrast to the rest of the house's interior. James looks up from the pile of paperwork infront of him and his entire face lights up in delight.

"You came already?", he speaks up and stands up from his desk chair. He gives the older man a quick nod to signal him that he can leave now.

"Yes, we'd like another look.", you answer, forcing a convincing smile.

"Ah and here I was, scared that you might back off from the deal.", he answers with a soft chuckle. A few of his blonde curls fall infront of his face and he brushes them back with his hand. Then his eyes fall on something behind you. "You're a familiar face, but I'm afraid that I missed your name."

Sadie steps forward to stand next to you, her stance more relaxed now than when you entered this place. "Sadie. Mrs. Sadie Adler."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Adler."

The two of you aren't wanted anywhere (yet), so you're free to give him your real names. Not that you believe that he will snitch on you anyways if he'd somehow find out that you're criminals. On the contrary, he seemed incredibly excited back in the saloon when he saw your guns.

"Shall we go then?", he suggests and you nod.

Outside, an open coach is already standing ready for your small group to use and you all climb in. Your eyes linger on the two horses that are hitched up infront of his property.

"Could you give us a ride back as well?", you ask, motioning with your chin towards Penthesilea and Sadie's horse.

"Of course! I was meaning to drop you off at wherever you're staying.", he answers in a matter of fact way. "Where are you staying, if I may ask?"

Sadie and you exchange subtle looks before you answer. "Hotel Grant."

It's the only hotel that you know of in Saint Denis. Much to your relief, James seems to buy it and he leans back into his seat, satisfied with your answer.

"Where is your business partner from yesterday?", he then wants to know with a raised eyebrow.

"He couldn't make it." Your answer comes out shorter and more curtly than intended, but he doesn't seem to take notice.

At this point you're starting to assume that James is naive and gullible in nature. You have given him plenty of reasons to be suspicious by now. What if he knows what you are and he just doesn't care? It's hard to say what would be worse.

"This warehouse.", you start, faking interest in the building. "Why aren't you using it anymore?"

The man sitting infront of you curls up his lips in an embarrassed way, as if he'd been caught doing something bad. "Well, I really shouldn't tell you this, but we've had some issues with mold the past few years."

That would explain the stench. You nod to yourself, but say nothing further about that topic. Mold is the least of your problems and you wish you could tell him that he shouldn't worry about it either.

As you get off the coach, you track every single movement James makes. From the moment he fishes out the keys from his pockets to when he stores them back. The location is a tad unfortunate, but nothing you can't manage. They're stored on the inside of his coat right at his chest.

Maybe I could pretend to trip and just slip my hand in there? Yes, that should work.

You walk around the building, careful not to breathe in too deeply. He wasn't kidding when he said that they've been fighting mold for a long time now. A quick look over your shoulder tells you that Sadie is on the other side, inspecting some pillars and the naked brick walls.

As you take a step onto the metal staircase, leading up into the office, you feel the structure wobble under your feet. A presence appears right by your side and you turn your head to face James. An apologetic smile is on his lips.

"That needs some fixing, yes.", he comments, his gaze set on the rusty stairs and you let out an agreeing hum. "I know it doesn't look too good, but I'll offer a great deal for the property. If you don't like the current state then surely you can tear this down and re-build it."

You pretend to think about it. "We'll see. I will have to get back to Hosea about that."

"I can send you a price, once I've gone over the logistics and documents. Hotel Grant was it?"

"Just drop it off at the post office.", you answer, not wanting him to snoop around at the hotel. If he'd do that, then your cover would be blown.

"And should I address it to you or your business partner?"

"Tacitus Killgore."

You take in his reaction with a subtle side glance. His eyebrows shoot up and he studies your side profile for a few seconds before responding. "Is that another partner or something?"

"It's kind of the boss.", you say, too unsure to possibly sound convincing, but nevertheless, he nods. Much to your surprise, he doesn't come off as suspicious at all and even drops the topic.

After Sadie and you have given the entire place a thorough look-over, you leave through the front door again and you observe where James puts back the keys. They're in his chest pocket again and you step aside to let Sadie climb into the coach first.

Just as you take a step forward towards the vehicle, you trip over your own feet, but luckily James catches you. He protectively wraps his arms around your form and you place both hands on his chest to support yourself.

An embarrassed chuckle leaves your lips and you look up to meet his gaze. Worry covers his expression and you force an apologetic smile as your hand slides into his coat. Your fingers find a small object and without him noticing anything, you grab it.

"I'm so sorry. I swear, these shoes will be the death of me.", you joke and pull away from his grasp.

The concern in his face is being replaced by relief when he sees that you're alright and he extends his hand to you to help you into the coach. "It's quite alright. The sidewalk here isn't the cleanest either."

"You really should stop falling all over the place.", Sadie chimes in, making your clumsiness more believable.

"This happens regularly, I take it?", James asks curious and Sadie gives him a big nod.

"You got no idea, pal. I'm surprised she hasn't lost a leg yet!"

"Real funny, Sadie.", you grumble with crossed arms and hide the key in your fist.

The ride back to James' house goes by with some light small talk and he shakes your hand before the two of you mount your horses. He waves you goodbye as you signal Penthesilea to carry you away, outside of the city. You feel his eyes in the back of your head, but you don't dare turn around.

"That went smoothly. You got the keys?", Sadie asks over the sound of galloping hooves. Once you're around several corners, you lift the metal object into the air for her to see.

"It was easy."

"I think that feller is sweet on ya.", she tease with a smirk, but you sternly shake your head.

"He knows that I have something going on with Arthur."

"That don't always stop folk from developin' feelings.", she argues and you let out a defeated sigh.

"Just don't tell Arthur about that. God knows what he might do to that poor guy."

And with that you're one step closer to your freedom.

---

"You did well, stealin' those keys." Arthur's rough voice brushes your ears as the tips of his fingers trace the outline of your knuckles.

The keys are now in Hosea's possession and him and some of the other boys will plant the dynamite inside that building, once the time comes. A deep sigh leaves your lips and the outlaw throws you a questioning look.

"Why do I feel like shit now? I didn't feel like that the other times I screwed people over.", you complain with your gaze set straight forward.

You find yourself resting on a chair at the front porch with Arthur sitting right beside you. A cigarette is tugged between his lips, a cloud of smoke covering most of his face. The both of you are sitting close together, fingers intertwined and thighs pressed together.

"You like him. For some goddamn reason." He grumbles the last part in an irritated way and you give his shoulder a playful slap.

That action earns you an amused smirk from him and he holds the cigarette between his fingers. Some of the ash falls down and you watch the glow die out on the wet wood.

"Don't worry 'bout it too much. Focus on the fact that you did a good job, alright?"

"Alright."

But it just doesn't want to let you go. 

Chapter Text

"I just don't understand. He always said that revenge is an idiot's game.", Arthur grumbles under his breath, careful to keep his voice low.

Him and some of the other men just returned from a rather peculiar job. Dutch has thrown all caution into the wind and went out to kill Angelo Bronte. Arthur is right when he says that it's very much not like the leader to take a risk of that magnitude.

Bronte is or rather was the one in charge in Saint Denis. That man had every single important person in that goddamn city in his pocket. You can't even begin to imagine the bounty that will be put on the gang's head now.

"Why would he do something like that?", you ask, brows furrowed closely together in concern as you watch the outlaw pace around in his room. You're sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting nervously with your hands.

"That set-up at the trolley station...I guess that pissed him off big time.", he answers with a lost look on his face.

A sigh escapes your lips as you stand up and walk towards him, taking his hands in yours. He relaxes under your touch and closes his eyes when you rub your thumbs softly over his knuckles. "It will all be alright."

He opens his mouth to respond, but a shout cuts through the air, startling you. Arthur hisses a few curses under his breath and together you make your way out to the front of the house.

Bill is dragging a man by the collar past the hitching posts and closer to the tents on the side. It's too dark to get a glimpse of the poor guy's features, so you push past some of the gang members to get a better look.

"Would ya look at that? I found a rat snoopin' around our camp!", Bill exclaims with both excitement and anger, waving his rifle around in the air.

The flames from the campfire illuminate the face of the stranger just enough for you to recognize him and your breath gets caught up in your throat. With a gasp, you clasp a hand over your mouth and your legs carry you even closer to the scene.

That's when you meet the intruder's gaze, his green eyes widened in terror.

"I don't mean any trouble!", he yells, fear and desperation lacing his voice.

His poor attempt to smooth the situation only riles Bill up some more and the outlaw shakes him violently in his grasp.

"Another word and I'll blow your head clean off!"

The other people who are watching the spectacle with you, mumble towards one another, but you can't catch a single word that is being said. Worry and especially confusion course through your chest.

What in the world is James doing here?

"What is goin' on?", a familiar voice yells from further away and Dutch steps into sight.

His cold, calculating eyes are falling on the squirming James and a deep crease begins to form on his forehead. Bill tells him how he found James hiding around in some bushes before dragging him here.

"Is he a Pinkerton?", someone asks.

"Or maybe an O'Droscoll?", another voice chimes in.

"It doesn't matter. I say, we kill him!", Miss Grimshaw roars and grabs the shotgun, she's holding, tighter.

Before anyone else can respond to her words, you throw your arms up and yell. "No! Don't!"

All the chatter dies down almost instantly and every single pair of eyes is set on you. The cracking of the firewood is the only thing that can be heard, followed by footsteps approaching you.

"Do you know this man?", Dutch asks, his tone making it more than clear that you better answer his question truthfully. It sends an ice-cold shiver down your spine.

The relationship between the two of you definitely can't be described as a friendship or anything close to that, but it has never been hostile. So far it has always seemed like he was quite pleased with what you contributed.

A long forgotten feeling stirs in the back of your mind, more like an instinct really. A voice from deep within you is commanding you, no screaming at you to run. With all your willpower, you force the voice back and keep both feet planted into the ground that you're standing on right now.

"It's the man with the warehouse.", you finally manage to breathe out, not daring to look away from Dutch.

He examines your face, taking his sweet time to search for an indicator that you might be lying to him.

"She's right. I recognize him.", Hosea speaks up and a great weight is being lifted from your shoulders.

Now with all the attention on the older man, you can take a moment to relax. You feel a warm hand on your back and you lean into the comforting touch. Arthur is standing close to you.

"Tell us what you're doin' here right now!", Bill demands and presses the barrel of his rifle against James' temple.

"I figured that you folk weren't business people!", he stutters, his arms thrown over his head as protection. "I was curious! I swear, that's all!"

"Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat, boy?", Micah spits out with murderous intent. "I for one agree with Grimshaw. We should get rid of him."

Everything within you protests. James hasn't done anything. It's wrong to kill him for simply wanting to know who's deceiving him. But before you can make your stand, someone else does it for you.

"Shut your damn mouth, Micah!", Arthur argues, his voice booming across the camp. "That boy didn't do anythin'!"

"Of course you're takin' your girl's side, cowpoke. I didn't expect anythin' less from a man gone soft.", the other man snarls.

Arthur squares up his shoulders, ready to throw an insult at his head, but Dutch silences him with his raised hand.

"Enough! I need to think."

Hosea steps forward. "If he wanted to rat us out at the police then he would have done it already. Look at him, Dutch. He's no threat to us."

The leader's eyes fall back on James, who is cowering under the weapon that is being pointed at him. The pearls of sweat that are running down his face must feel as cold as yours right now. After what feels like an eternity, Dutch let's out a defeated sigh and waves.

"Tie him up to some post, Mr. Williamson.", he says and you can't do anything but watch poor James being yanked away by the collar of his shirt.

Relief washes over you and all tension leaves your body. As you look down on your hands, you notice that you had them balled up into fists this entire time. Your nails have formed deep half-moon shapes into your palms.

Someone steps infront of you and you look up into Hosea's face. There is something odd in his expression, an emotion you can't place.

"Thank you for standing up for James.", you say, your voice barely even a whisper.

"Of course. It would be a shame to have an innocent soul die.", he answers, looking into the direction Bill and James have vanished to. "But you said that we could trust him."

"I had no idea that he'd come looking for us.", you quickly defend.

It's true. You genuinely didn't expect that he'd be so foolish to follow one of you, but is it really that far fetched? James did strike you as someone looking for the thrill. Frustrated at yourself, you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"What happens to him now?", you ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Oh, but you know what they will do to him. He will get the same treatment Kieran got when Arthur caught him in the snowy mountains. It will be a five star torture experience, pain and agony guaranteed.

"You should get some rest.", Arthur tells you and you let him guide you up into his room.

His presence is your rock in the storm that your thoughts and feelings are at the moment. As much as he keeps you grounded and calm, you still can't find any sleep that night. With your eyes shut tight, you try to distract yourself, but every now and then you think you can hear James' screams.

As the first rays of sunlight begin to flood the room, you sit up. Even though you couldn't get a second of rest, you don't feel tired. On the contrary, it's more like electricity is coursing through your veins and you find yourself longing for something to keep you busy.

Shortly after you get out of bed, Arthur stirs in his sleep and he cracks an eye open to look at you.

"Where are you goin'?", he asks. His voice in the morning is always raspier than usual and if the circumstances were different, a familiar heat would spread in your stomach from it.

"I just want to check on him."

A grunt can be heard from the outlaw and he moves up, supporting his weight on his elbows.

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I need to see if he's hurt."

Arthur gives you a knowing look.

Of course he's hurt. Goddamn Bill Williamson was in charge of taking him away.

The outlaw climbs out of his bed and puts on his black hat. With a quick gesture, he signals for you to walk first and together you step out of the house. It's still very early in the morning, so the camp isn't buzzing with activity yet.

As your eyes scan the tents, you spot James at a pole. His hands are tied up behind him and his head his hanging low. The blonde curls that usually seem to sit perfectly in place are now sticking to his forehead.

"Hey, how are you holding up?", you speak up, knowing how ridiculous that question sounds.

Much to your surprise, he begins to smile when he meets your gaze. "Couldn't be better."

"I'm sorry, James."

"Don't be. I brought this over myself.", he answers, his shoulders shaking violently as a coughing fit takes ahold of him. Then his eyes fall on something behind you and his face lights up. "Ah, your friend. I suppose I should thank you for standing up for me last night."

Arthur crosses his arms infront of his chest and grumbles incoherent words. Keeping James alive like this isn't really doing him a favor. Maybe death would have been more merciful than whatever Dutch has in store for him.

"Can I ask what you plan on doing to my warehouse?", James rips you out of your thoughts.

For a while you just open and close your mouth like a fish. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"I understand."

Shouting from the other side of camp catches your attention and you exchange looks with Arthur. Quickly, you excuse yourself to James and go to see what the commotion is all about. Another intruder perhaps? Lenny and Sean are loading up a wagon with crates and Sadie joins your side.

"They're preparin' the dynamite. I heard they'll plant it tonight, so everythin' is ready for tomorrow.", she tells you and your eyes widen in surprise.

"The heist is tomorrow already?", you exclaim in disbelief and she nods.

It only makes sense after what happened to Bronte. With every single police officer in Saint Denis after you all, it's only smart to speed things up. Then in the corner of your eyes, you spot Hosea walking up to you.

"You two.", he starts, addressing Arthur and you. "Follow me, so we can go over the plan."

He takes you inside the house to Dutch. There, he explains to you that you and Hosea will move to the warehouse to set the explosion off.

"Maybe bring that rifle of yours.", the old man suggests and you nod. "I'm estimating that we will make it out in time, but just in case we run into some trouble."

You haven't had the opportunity to practice with your rifle yet, but it can't be that much different from the handguns you've been using. The conversation continues with Hosea explaining some minor details in your part of the job, before the topic moves on to the actual heist.

It all sounds pretty solid. If it works out, you'll be long gone, before the law can even guess who's behind it all.

The rest of the day you spend with Sadie who is trying to teach you how to use your rifle. Arthur unfortunately had to leave for some other business. Without him by your side, you feel oddly exposed.

Micah has been glaring daggers in your direction every chance he gets and you're doing your best not to pay him any mind. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he unsettles you.

Time moves agonizingly slow and by the time the sun sets, exhaustion catches up to you. The effects of the sleepless night from yesterday are now beginning to show themselves and you're paying the price.

While you're sitting on your bedroll and struggling to keep your eyes open, a skirt appears in your vision. Abigail is standing infront of you with something soft looking in her arms and she hands it over to you.

Upon closer inspection, you see that it's a dress she's giving you and you throw her a puzzled look.

"It's for tomorrow.", she says and then it clicks in your brain.

The dress is meant as a disguise, so you don't stand out too much in your worn clothes. A smile spreads on your face.

"Thank you."

Careful not to get it dirty, you place the dress aside, expecting for Abigail to leave, but she stays put. Something in her expression tells you that she wants to talk, but by the looks of it, she can't seem to find the words.

"Can I help you with anything?", you ask instead, trying to get her to open her mouth.

"I...are you doin' okay? You've been so off lately."

"Off?", you repeat, confusion written all over you.

"Exactly." There is a pause. "I know we ain't that close, but you've always been so kind to Jack and me. If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open."

"Thanks, Abigail."

She nods, lingering for a few seconds more and then turns to walk away. This entire interaction has left you with a strange feeling. As you lay down to catch up with some sleep, you can't shake off the dark thoughts that are taking form in your head.

You can't place your finger on it, but your gut is telling you things will take a bad turn soon.

---

You're being woken up by the noise of hasty footsteps and many voices and you rub your eyes. If you could, you'd stay like this some more, but you force yourself to get up. With a groan, you stretch your stiff limbs and watch the gang.

For a while, bewilderment is the only thing you feel, but then your mind clears up and you recall the bank heist. It looks like the last preparations are being made and you quickly find a private corner to change into your disguise.

All the horses are ready and a coach is waiting at the front. Hosea waves at you, once you meet his gaze and you jog towards him.

"You ready?", he asks and you nod.

Since you can't be showing off your weapons just like that, you store the rifle and pistol behind the front bench. Someone approaches you in the corner of your vision and your lips curl up into a smile when you see Arthur.

"Stay safe." His voice comes out as a low rumble and he watches you with a serious, yet tender expression.

Your heart flutters in your chest as he lifts your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

"You too."

Unfortunately, he can't stick around for any longer and you watch him move further to the back where he mounts his horse. With a deep breath, you climb up onto the front seat of the coach to sit next to Hosea, who's holding the reigns with a firm grip.

"Let's get out of this godforsaken place and rob ourselves a bank!", he shouts, earning loud cheering from the others.

With that, everyone starts to move out and for a moment you can't fight back the wide grin that is spreading on your face. The enthusiasm is infecting you and you allow for excitement to settle in.

One last score and we're all out of here.

Hosea speeds up the wagon, leaving the others hanging behind. Just as discussed, you all can't be seen together. After following the road for a while, crossing the long bridge that leads into Saint Denis, he turns left and takes you to the other side of town.

You recognize the factories that you pass by and soon the warehouse appears in the distance. The sight brings your mood crashing down again and your thoughts wander to James who's still tied up back in camp.

The district seems peaceful, almost empty even. There are only a few pedestrians here and there and Hosea parks the coach a few buildings away. From this distance, the horses won't get startled too much from the dynamite setting off. As you both jump off the front seat, you can't shake off that strange feeling in the back of your head.

For some reason the hairs on your neck are standing up as if you're being watched, but when you scan the area, it all looks clear. You excuse it as your nerves betraying you and you follow Hosea down the street.

He extends his arm out to you, stopping you where you stand. "Wait here and keep an eye out while I set off the whole thing."

With a nod, you wait and watch him move out. The moment is being dragged out as he vanishes behind a corner and you keep yourself hidden behind a brick wall. If you can, then you'd like to avoid getting glass shards and other rubble thrown at you.

You count the minutes. Then something stirs behind you like hasty steps, but nothing is there when you turn around. Next thing you know, a loud noise cuts through the air and the ground shakes violently.

For a second there you fear that you can't hold your balance, but you find support on the wall next to you. Just as you compose yourself, something cold is being pressed against your temple.

"Don't move or I'll shoot.", a man hisses through gritted teeth and every muscle in your body tenses up.

A struggle can be heard ahead and you lock eyes with Hosea, who is also being held at gunpoint. Then an all too familiar face appears, looking so smug that you feel the strong urge to punch him square in the jaw.

"I gave you the chance to live a normal life.", Milton speaks and you press your lips tightly together until they form a thin line.

Hosea gives you a warning look that tells you not to utter a single word. Saying the wrong thing right now could cost you your life, yes. There is nothing you can do to stop them from taking you away.

But much to your surprise you're not stopping at the sheriff's office. In fact, you're passing the building and you exchange a puzzled look with Hosea. That is when it dawns on you. They're taking you to the bank.

Those damn Pinkertons have known about this plan all along and in great detail too it seems. Has James told them? No, because why would he risk his life by showing up at your hideout? Did someone talk then? Does the gang have a rat amongst it's lines? Your mind races with all manner of thoughts until you find yourself infront of the city bank.

One of the men is holding you in place with an iron grip, but you wouldn't have thought about fleeing anyways. You'd end up like Swiss cheese before you could even take five steps.

The street is swept empty from any civilians. A small army of Pinkertons are surrounding the large building across from you. You can see shadowy figures moving around in the windows and you hear familiar voices coming from inside the bank.

"Dutch!", Milton roars, pushing Hosea infront of him. "Get out of there!"

Panic threatens to bubble up inside your chest.

"Mr. Milton!", Dutch yells, but you can't pinpoint his exact location. "Let my friends go or folks in here will get shot unnecessarily!"

"Your friends?" He scoffs. "Why would I do that?"

The coldness in the agent's voice makes your throat dry up in fear. Something tells you that the man isn't willing to strike a deal anymore.

"It's over!", he says and your vision closes in.

Him and Dutch exchange more words, but you can't hear them. The sound of rushing blood is filling your ears and your breathing comes out ragged and heavy. This is it. You will die here, executed in broad daylight for all to see.

A flash catches your attention, the sunlight reflecting in Milton's revolver. Hosea stumbles a few steps forward and you feel your legs carry you towards him.

The older man's lips move as he turns around and locks eyes with you. His features are contorted in a weird way and you're unable to read his expression.

Then an earpiercing sound grabs your attention. A gun. It's as if you're pushing your head out of the water. An exploding pain rips you out of your daze and the ground is being pulled from under your feet.

Your knees buckle and your palms scrape over the pavement of the street as you fall. Someone yells your name, but you're unable to find the source.

Darkness falls over you like a blanket and you welcome it's embrace as if it's an old friend.

Chapter Text

A cool, comfortable breeze caresses your cheeks and neck like the gentle brush of the fingers of a lover. The tall grass of the meadow you're standing in sways and bends under the soft wind. It's green color is being painted with an orange hue from the setting sun.

The sweet and earthy scent of a late spring or early summer fills your nostrils and the tips of your fingers trace the pedals of a wild flower. A flash of brown appears in the corner of your eyes and you turn your head, facing a large stag.

He stands roughly 4 feet tall at his shoulders, but the antlers make him appear taller, practically towering over you. His deep dark eyes study you intently as if he's taking in every single detail in your face.

Careful not to startle him, you slowly reach out for him and much to your surprise, he meets your hand with his forehead. The sudden action scares you for a brief second, but only because of the unexpected nature of it.

You've seen many wild deers out in the forests and fields and they all have taken flight the moment you made even the slightest noise. Oddly enough, this one doesn't run away and you watch him with a puzzled expression.

There is something about this stag that draws you towards him. It's like something within you stirs in recognition, but you're unable to tell what it is. A thought pops up in your mind, but it vanishes as quickly as it had appeared.

There is a name laying on the tip of your tongue and frustration flares up in your chest when you fail to grasp it. It's like you're trying to hold onto sand, but it keeps running through your fingers.

The stag makes a grunting noise, ripping you out of your thoughts and he pushes his head closer into your hand, leaning into your touch. Your lips curl up into a sweet smile as you watch him get more used to your presence.

Then a loud bang cuts through the air. It's a sound you're familiar with, a sound you've heard many times before.

A shot.

A gun.

A heist...a heist?

The scene infront of you then changes and you find yourself laying on the ground, still on the meadow. The stag is next to you and his ragged and heavy breathing fills you with worry. Then anger grips you. How could someone hurt a friendly creature like this one?

Frantically and in a panic, your eyes scan the animal's form as you desperately try to find the injury. Maybe you can still save him. Maybe the wound isn't fatal.

The stag's eyes are filled with fear and at first you think it's because he's scared of dying. Then you notice that it's not directed at him, but at yourself. You reach out to touch his face yet again and all you can see is red.

Hot blood is covering every inch of your skin and you examine it for a second, before lowering your gaze. Your dress. It's drenched.

Images, memories rush past your inner eye. The wet stench of mold, which is being replaced by the smell of gunpowder. The feeling of the earth shaking beneath you and then something cold being pressed against your head.

Your stomach begins to pulsate and you touch it. A pained hiss escapes your lips when you make contact with the gaping wound there. Confused, you notice that it's still bleeding and it doesn't look like it will stop anytime soon.

The sight and bloodloss make you dizzy and you shoot the stag one last look, before you pass out. If you wouldn't be in such a delirious state then you would have sworn that he's talking to you.

---

People are yelling around you and you force your eyes to open, watching your feet drag across concrete. Waves of agonizing pain shoot through your body and you'd love nothing more than to curl over and lay down, but something is stopping you from doing that.

Or rather someone is stopping you from doing that. Two people, men, are holding you up by your arms and carrying you somewhere. Brick walls and lamp posts pass you by in a blurr or maybe you're passing them? Shooting can be heard in the distance.

"Lenny, stay with her in the back. I'll get us out of here.", a familiar voice says. The tone is strained, fearful even.

The person on the right leaves you and a pair of arms hoists you up. Your back meets a hard ground and something is being pressed harshly against your stomach. You groan.

"She doesn't look too good, Hosea.", someone next to you breathes out and the voice from before answers, but you can't make out the words.

Then you're being shaken around lightly, a rhythmic sound filling your ears. You recognize it. It's hooves on a plastered road. A mental picture of a familiar horse flashes in your mind and a warm feeling spreads in your chest. It's an Andalusian. Your Andalusian.

What was the name again? Peter? Penny?

Penthesilea.

Then another name pops up, followed by an image of a stag.

"Arthur." Your own voice sounds foreign in your ears, but you're pretty sure that you were the one to say it.

"He should be the least of your worries right now.", the first voice answers, Hosea.

You open your mouth, wanting to speak some more, but you can't command a single muscle of yours to move. At least you're laying down at the moment, one of your wishes from earlier being oh so mercifully granted to you.

Time and the world go by in a weird daze, but at least you're not being moved from where you're laying. More people are talking now, all sounding worried. You feel something warm touch your hand and you try to lift your fingers.

"Those damn pigs.", a woman snarls next to your ear and your eyes meet a freckled face. Her features are contorted in both fury and fear and you'd like to tell her that she looks stupid like that. It would get her to laugh.

"We need to move!"

"Everyone! Pack up your things, right now!"

"What about Dutch and the others?"

"We can't stay here."

Another face appears infront of you, one with disheveled hair and a thick mustache. Pity covers his wrinkled face and you notice a black book that he's holding tightly to his chest. "Oh, my poor child."

There are more footsteps, followed by more shouting and wood scraping over wood. With all your strength, you're trying to hold onto these things in order to stay awake, but your eyelids are so damn heavy and everything hurts. Shit, how it hurts.

---

Hot, agonizing pain cuts through your flesh and bone. You're on fire, only that you don't catch any glimpse of flames licking at your skin and hair. A guttural scream tears out of your throat and whips through the air.

You thrash with all your might, flailing your limbs which don't feel as heavy as stone anymore. Several hands are grabbing you, holding you down and you fight and squirm against their unwavering grip.

"Keep her still! I need to stop the bleeding!"

"Isn't there another way?"

"No, she has lost too much blood already."

Sweat runs down your face and neck as if you've been submerged into water. Strands of your hair are sticking to your forehead and the clothes on your body feel uncomfortably tight. No matter how much air you fill your lungs with, you can't seem to catch your breath.

But fate grants you sweet mercy and finally allows you to pass out.

---

Your head is being lifted gently and something touches your lips. For a second it feels like it's only cold metal, but then there is a small splash. You open your mouth just enough for the water to enter and you swallow weakly.

The thirst has an iron grip on you, but the pain is greater. Even the smallest of movements hurts like hell, but it's not as bad anymore as it was in the beginning.

"You'll be alright." There's that woman again. Sadie. "If you die, I'll kill you."

You want to laugh, but only a groan comes out. A wet cloth is being placed on your forehead and your eyes flutter open. She stares at you from above, her face a stern and unmoving mask. Determination flickers in her eyes and some of it seeps into you.

"Where am I?", you ask, voice raspy and barely more than a whisper.

This isn't your tent or any other that you recognize from the camp. Now that you're giving it a closer look, you notice that you're inside a rather flimsy looking cabin. The walls are made out of planks that seem to be more holes than wood and light enters through the opening.

A light splashing sound can be heard from outside, so you assume that water must be nearby. But it's different from before. This isn't Shady Belle.

"Some place called Lakay, but don't worry 'bout these things right now. Ya need to rest.", she answers.

"Arthur and the others-"

"They're fine.", she cuts you off and glances to the side. The way she says that and how her face twitches, is indication enough that she isn't telling you everything.

Once you regain your strength, you'll fight her about it. For now you have to be content with her poor answer.

"What happened?" Your words sound more like a plea than a question. With your memories still being such a blurr, it's difficult to tell the difference between reality and fantasy. Everytime you concentrate on what happened, your mind is being flooded by a meadow and a pair of antlers.

Sadie fills you in on everything. From the warehouse distraction to you getting shot infront of the Lemoyne National Bank. Yes, the bullet went clean through you, but luckily didn't damage any vital organs.

The wound has apparently been thoroughly cleaned to avoid an infection and the bloodloss seems to be under control now too.

"But don't think that you can go shootin' around now.", Sadie warns with narrowed eyes. "You keep scoldin' Arthur for never knowin' when enough is enough, but you ain't any better, you fool."

"Go easy on me, woman.", you croak. "I've been shot."

"Because you jumped infront of a gun! You could have-" She doesn't finish the sentence and you watch her bite her lip. With a shake of her head and a dry chuckle leaving her throat, she stands up. "You should rest some more."

Her boots sound heavy on the wooden floor as she walks away, the house creaking with every step. Throughout the day more people come to visit you. First it's the girls, all dropping by one by one to not overwhelm you. Then Kieran checks in on you, always fidgeting with his hands and nervously glancing everywhere except at you.

Relief washes over you when Charles enters your line of sight. He was inside the bank, so that means everyone else must be safe too. Then why hasn't Arthur come to see you yet?

Immediately you try to sit up, but Charles is right by your side, faster than you can blink and he gently pushes you back down. "Don't."

A sigh leaves your lips. Pearls of sweat cover your forehead from exhaustion and you pant heavily. Goddammit. Before this, you were able to take on a group of men with your handgun alone. Wait. Where is your pistol anyway?

"Where is everyone?"

He sits down next to you. "The plan was for Dutch and the others to get onto a boat headed to Cuba."

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

"They're in fucking Cuba?", you exclaim in shock. For a brief second you forget about your injury and move to sit up again, but a sharp pain shoots through your veins. "What the fuck are they doing there?"

"Sadie wasn't kidding when she said that you can't stay still.", Charles mumbles under his breath, earning a glare from you. Then he nods to himself. "It's temporary. They want to lay low there until it's safe to come back."

That means they might as well be gone for several weeks if not months even. With a defeated sigh you close your eyes and shake your head. So that is what Sadie didn't want to share with you. Now you're kind of thankful for her deception.

This new information is like a slap to the face. With half of the gang gone, you all might as well surrender yourselves to the Pinkertons right this instant.

"Don't dwell on it. They'll be okay.", Charles tries to comfort you, but it bounces off you like a solid wall.

"I know.", you answer, not sure if you believe your own words.

Shortly after your conversation he leaves you alone and you drift off to sleep. There your dreams are more nightmares and a couple times throughout the night, you stir awake, covered in cold sweat. In these moments, the bullet wound hurts the most.

Without anyone awake to give you something to ease the pain, you fight through it with gritted teeth. When the sun comes back up, you lay on your bedroll, more drained than ever. At least the wound seems to be healing at a decent pace.

Strauss' stitching hasn't opened so far and it's also free from any infection. Hopefully you'll be back on your feet before Dutch and the others return. That way you could help guard the camp, contribute in some way and not being a burden like you are at the moment.

Another day, another fight and another visitor by the looks of it. Hosea is sitting on a chair that has definitely seen better days and studies you with pity. You force a smile, which feels more like you're running a marathon.

"Don't look at me like that. It makes me think that my condition is serious.", you say, a poor attempt of a joke.

"I can't put into words how thankful I am.", he starts and you'd have raised your hand to stop him from talking, but only manage a shake of your head.

"Stop it."

"Don't downplay your actions. Getting shot isn't something you should take lightly."

But when Arthur got kidnapped and shot, he not only defended himself from a group of O'Driscolls, but also found his way back to camp on horseback. You on the other hand need the entire camp to keep you alive.

Hosea sighs, reading your thoughts in your expression. "You're an odd one."

"Everyone here is odd.", you comment, getting a dry laugh out of the older man.

"Listen, kid.", he starts and something in his tone makes you stiffen up. "You've been doing a lot for this gang. We haven't known each other for half a year and you took a bullet for me."

"Anyone in the gang would have done that.", you immediately counter.

"I'd argue that." True. There's Micah for example. "I know I've said once that we all have baggage, but who are you?"

His question hangs heavy in the air, just like your silence. For the longest time, the two of you simply stare at each other, the quiet chatter from the others outside being the only noise.

"I'm me, Hosea.", you then break the uncomfortable quiet and study him through narrowed eyes. His sudden curiosity makes you wary. "I don't mean any harm."

"I know that you don't. In fact, I believe you're here to do the exact opposite from harm."

That confuses you, but you still relax when you hear those words.

"You appear out of nowhere with a backstory that, conveniently enough for you, no one can check.", he continues, sounding like he's more talking to himself than you. "You didn't know how to prepare a wagon, even though you claimed to come from the countryside. You struggled to use a lot of the equipment in camp, actually."

You school your features, putting on an unreadable mask. The slightest twitch or blink could betray your cover. All this time, no one has questioned your lies, simple as they were.

Not only is the conman getting onto you, but also doing it while you're at your most vulnerable. Whatever he decides to do against you, you won't be able to prevent him from accomplishing it.

"Have I ever told you about that strange feller Bessie and I met during our travels?", he asks and you can't even shake your head as a no. "He too talked and acted in a funny way, much like you."

Now upon hearing that, your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up involuntarily. That means he has met a time traveller before. So he know what you are? Who you are?

"I won't pretend to understand what any of that means.", he explains with a raised hand and a shake of his head. "But I know that I can trust you and I do. I do trust you, kid."

"Thank you.", you breathe out. The relief you're feeling at the moment is unlike any other.

With a grunt, he stands up from the chair and stretches his back out. "Don't thank me. I have a feeling that difficult times are on the way and we need to stay strong now."

---

A few days have passed now and you're finally able to sit up. If you could then you'd rather be on your feet and walking around already. Sadie is by your side way more often than she was before all this. When she's not out guarding the camp or hunting with Charles, then she keeps you company in the small cabin that you have for yourself.

The others thought it would be better to keep you away, so you could have some peace and quiet while healing. At first you didn't even notice that you don't share the place with anyone, but now it feels kind of lonely. You've gotten so used to having a bunch of people around you at all times.

"How's James?", you ask and watch Sadie's expression change. She looks stunned, her mouth hanging slightly open.

She's sitting next to you on the bedroll, your shoulder leaned against hers for support.

"No one has told you?", she answers. "When we packed up everythin' to move here, he slipped away."

"You're saying he's gone?"

"Yup."

If you'd say that you weren't happy about that fact, then you'd be lying. It's one thing less to worry about. You just hope that he won't try to seek the gang out again, but you doubt that he's that insane.

"Have you heard anything from the others?"

She looks down at her hands and removes some dirt under her nails with a knife. "No, but we're checkin' everyday. I left a letter at Shady Belle to let them know that we're here now."

You lean your head against the wall and look up to the ceiling. How long is this going to take? With your mind wandering, you don't even notice how Sadie has been staring at you from the side.

"He'll be fine. He's gotten through worse.", she rips you out of your thoughts with her encouraging words.

She's right. Arthur is a fighter. Even an entire army would struggle and falter against him, but it doesn't change the fact that you miss him. Dearly. From the wrinkles around his eyes to the callouses on his hands, you can't help but long for his presence.

During the evenings, you lay awake and wonder if he's thinking about you too somewhere in Cuba. If he's yearning for you as much as you are for him. Sometimes when you close your eyes and focus enough, you can hear the ring of his laughter and the raspyness of his voice in the distance.

"I just don't know what I'd do if I'd ever lose him.", you admit in a low voice, afraid to speak the words too loud.

"You won't lose him.", she argues, stern and convincing. Lately she has been your pillar, your anchor. "And until he returns, I got your back."

You reach out for her hand and tightly hold onto it. Your fingers squeeze hers and she returns the gesture.

Chapter Text

"We'll get off the boat one by one."

Arthur is the first to step foot on solid ground again and his eyes scan the area. They have docked at a small village, which seems to be nothing more than a ghost town at this late hour. If he remembers correctly then it's too far away from Shady Belle to travel there by foot.

Just as he finishes that thought, he spots a lone stallion, hitched on the side of the street. No owner in sight. Tonight might just be his lucky night, as it seems.

He'll only lucky when he sees her.

Images of the woman, he has learned to love so dearly, flash before his inner eye as he mounts the horse and signals for it to move. Memories of her flood his mind and he let's them, allows himself to be completely and entirely engulfed by them.

But the last few scenes that replay in his head, send a cold shiver down his spine and have his throat dry up in a matter of heartbeats. Seeing her all bloody and limb in the middle of the street in Saint Denis, has been the single scariest experience he has ever gone through.

Arthur Morgan has stared right into death's eye more times than he dares to count, but none of these moment have shaken him up this much. The worst part is not knowing. Not knowing if Hosea and Lenny had managed to take her away in time.

And even if they did, there is still the possibility that she died in camp. Either bled out to death or had one of her vital organs damaged to an unrepairable extend. He forces those dark thoughts as far away as possible.

She's a fighter. She must have pushed through this. With his life and family slowly falling apart, she has remained a constant pillar of strength. During the long and humid nights in Guarma, his mind had wandered unintentionally and he had found himself wondering what it is they're fighting for anymore.

He recalls the words he said to her. It feels like years have passed since that conversation.

'You deserve an honest life.'

Maybe he can grant her that when all this comes to an end and he feels like it will. He could help her start that honest life he oh so wishes for her to live. God knows he has the cash for it. Perhaps even with an honest man by her side. With a lot of luck she might let him be that man, as undeserving as he is of her affection and attention.

For now he has to get to her though and then not even an army could tear him away from her. He will do right by her, goddammit.

May he stand as unshaken as she did when the world came crashing down around them.

---

It's been more than two weeks ever since that disaster in Saint Denis and there is still no sight of Arthur and the others. During that time Sadie has found your pistol and rifle and given them back to you. It was a relief seeing your weapons. You don't fancy the thought of having to buy new ones yet again.

Her and the others have managed to retrieve some of the other stuff from camp as well. Now you're sitting there, having something to fidget with for once. It's Arthur's hat. Being able to give it a closer look like this, you notice all the scratches and dents, all the marks time has left.

It surprises you that it doesn't have more holes, considering how often it gets shot off his head. An amused huff escapes your throat as you recall the face he always pulls when he picks up the hat from the ground after a struggle. He always looks almost heartbroken, seeing it bruised and battered like that.

Your mind wanders to darker thoughts, wondering what his reaction was when you got shot. Had he yelled? Screamed? Maybe cried even? No, a man of Arthur's caliber doesn't cry and if it ever comes to that then you know you all are in some deep shit.

Excited voices can be heard coming from outside, ripping you out of your thoughts. For a second you believe that you're under attack, but it doesn't sound that way. No, something good must have happened.

With a strained grunt, you hoist yourself onto your feet and find support at a nearby chair. By the unstable looks of it, it might just break if you put too much pressure on it. Sadie and the others are still keeping you locked up. Well, not really locked up. They just usher you back inside whenever you try to leave your cabin.

But you're curious and having to listen to a bit of scolding is a small price. Then the door swings open with such force that you're worried it might fly off the hinges. With widened eyes, you stare at the person standing in the frame and freeze.

It's as if you're seeing a ghost. He might as well be one with how beaten up he looks. Arthur's beard is longer, reaching the length it had before the Mayor's garden party and his clothes are so worn to the point that you can't even imagine what they might look like in a clean state.

The utter shock makes you lose all feeling in your legs and your knees buckle. The man infront of you catches you. Of course he does. If only you'd know how much he has yearned to hold you like this again.

"You're alive.", he says. You've never heard the outlaw so breathless, never seen him so shaken up either.

You want to joke to lighten the mood, answer something, anything. It seems like your voice is not yours to command right now. His strong arms are wrapped around you, securing you tightly and you know that he won't let you fall.

Your hand finds it's way up to his face, tracing the outlines of his features with your fingers as if you need to convince yourself that he's real. No one is interrupting you this time. They're all smart enough to give you the space you need after being apart from each other for so long.

Behind these closed doors, you're free to hold each other like you've always longed to, touch each other like you've always dreamed of. Staring into Arthur's eyes, you recognize something similar to fear. It's strange seeing him this scared when he always keeps his calm in dangerous situations, like when he's being accompanied by death.

You terrify him or rather the thought of you rejecting him does. He thinks himself undeserving of your time, but he's still hoping that you'd let him stay with you, pleading at the heavens and on his knees for it.

A shuddering breath escapes him as your lips meet his and you feel him practically melt under your touch. The kiss releases something in the both of you like a seal has finally been broken and you can let the contents of it flow freely.

Your hands claw at him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as if he might slip away at any moment. Arthur's own hands roam your body, careful not to drop you. He smells of gunpowder, sweat and the sea, his cracked lips tasting of rum and salt. You lose yourself in that combination, your senses getting drunk off of him.

The outlaw's lips move hungrily against yours like a dehydrated man finally finding some water, but not even the freshest and cleanest river compares to you. You're a force of unknown nature, driving him to the edge and even if he falls off it, he'd die a happy man.

Heavy breathing fills the cabin as you somehow manage to break away from the kiss, faces hot and lips red. A chuckle escapes you and you plant another kiss on the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, he turns his head to meet you with his lips, wanting to get another taste of you.

"I've missed you.", you speak and he leans his forehead against yours.

"I've missed you too."

"You need to tell me everything that happened." At this, his eyes flutter open again and a shadow falls over his face. His mouth has formed a thin, grim line and your stomach drops.

"Let's go to the others. They probably wanna know too."

Together you walk out of the cabin and you relish in the sensation of warm sunlight hitting your face. Fresh air fills your lungs and you squeeze Arthur's hand. He supports you, helping you walk to the main cabin where the others are.

By now your wound has healed enough that you can stand by yourself no problem, but everyone still coddles you. Though for now you'll let the outlaw take care of you. Inside, he sits you down on a chair and stays by you, hand on your shoulder.

The gang gathers around Arthur, listening intently to his story. From being washed up on Guarma to his encounter with the Pinkertons back in Shady Belle, it all sounds like a fever dream. It's a goddamn miracle that they all made it out in one piece.

"That's a lot.", Hosea comments once Arthur is done explaining and everyone nods along, humming in agreement.

The older man then proceeds to tell the outlaw what you all have been up to in the meantime. How Sadie, Charles and Lenny scared off the previous residents in Lakay and that you've been hiding here ever since.

"Your weapons and horse are here, Mr. Morgan.", Miss Grimshaw informs him and he murmurs a 'thank you'.

"And your stuff is in my cabin.", you chime in. "Clothes and such."

The floor creaks as Sadie pushes herself off the wall that she was leaning against up until now. With her chin she motions at your stomach. "We need to change your bandages."

You look down on yourself, worried the wound might have opened, but there is no red stain. Ah, but you've had these bandages for a while now. Nodding, you stand up from your chair and make sure that not a single sound leaves your throat.

If you show the others that you're still struggling then they might talk Arthur into keeping you 'locked up' some longer. Speaking of the man, he slides his arm around your waist.

"I can do that.", he says directed at Sadie and the woman takes a step back.

She is the one who has been tending to your wound the past few weeks, but it doesn't seem like she minds letting the outlaw take over now. Arthur grabs a roll and you make your way back to your cabin. With his belongings already there, he might even decide to make this his sleeping spot. You like the thought of sharing this small place with him.

He helps you sit down on the bedroll and goes down on his knees as well. His fingers find their way to the hem of your blouse and he meets your gaze, a question written over his expression.

"Is it alright if I...?", he asks, tugging lightly at the material and you nod.

"Of course.", you answer in a matter of fact way, but you'd be lying if you'd say that you aren't nervous.

Slowly, he lifts your blouse until the bandages around your stomach are completely revealed. With both hands you hold it up while he gets to work. After a few seconds, your naked skin and bullet injury lay open for him to see.

His eyes dart to the spot that's slowly, but surely been healing. It's obvious that a scar will remain, but you're not bothered by that. It will serve as a reminder for you of what could have been lost that day and so it does for him.

His features are contorted in an almost pained fashion and his fingertips hover over the wound.

"I'm so sorry.", he whispers, voice strained and raspy.

Gently, you lift his chin with your hand and lock eyes with him. You pull him in for another kiss. While the first one was desperate and heated, loaded with all the tension you two have build up over the month, this one is slow, tender even.

His face softens and he begins to apply the new bandages. His fingers dance over your skin, leaving the places he touches feeling as if they're on fire. Most of his life, the outlaw has used his hands to kill and rob, but now they're tending to you, keeping you safe and well.

Once he's done you lower your blouse and let yourself fall back onto the bedroll. The day hasn't even fully started and you already feel incredibly drained. Arthur makes himself comfortable next to you, brushing some of your hair strands out of your face.

"You don't have to stay here, you know? If you want to, you can go and be with the others.", you say, breaking the silence and he looks at you as if you just insulted his entire bloodline.

"Have you lost your mind, woman?", he retorts, sounding more shocked than genuinely upset. "I ain't leavin' you."

"I'm fine, don't worry."

"You got shot."

"Ah, 'tis but a scratch."

Sighing in frustration, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "What are you doin' to me?"

A wide smile spreads on your face as you watch him. You've missed the banter, missed how easily you can drive him crazy. Granted, getting shot at is nothing that one should downplay, but it's funny seeing him like this.

Another sigh escapes him, but he's smiling now too.

In the following days some of the other men begin to arrive at the camp. First Sean, who you can hear before spotting him. His entire face lights up in both delight and relief when he watches you stumbling out of the cabin to greet him.

"Look at you!", he exclaims in excitement and between barking laughter. "Standing as tall as ever!"

"I'm see happy to see you safe, Sean.", you answer with a grin matching the size of the one on his own face.

"I knew this entire time that you'll be fine! You should have listened to Arthur whining and crying about you, but I said to the old man 'listen, she's a strong one like me'."

"We might not have drowned at sea, but I sure thought he'll talk us to death.", Arthur grumbles at your side, earning a chuckle from you.

The next one to arrive was Javier, who looks to be sharing a similar fate like you. He limps into camp, bruised and battered, but still incredibly well dressed for the occasion. Now you have proof that even when held captive, he'll look good.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when he catches a glimpse of you and you return the gesture.

Shortly after, Micah enters Lakay and you can't help but feel your mood drop. As cruel as it sounds, you were hoping that he might have gotten lost or something along those lines. A dry laugh leaves his throat as he meets your gaze.

"Not dead yet, I see.", he comments, a sinister smirk taking form on his sun burned face.

"It takes more than a bullet to kill me.", you respond, your voice carrying a challenge. It get a scoff out of him, but much to your relief, he strolls away.

By the time Dutch arrives, the sun has gone down completely and everyone is sitting together in the main cabin. The man gets loud cheering from the gang once he steps through the door. The smile on his face grows even bigger when he lays his eyes on you.

"You're alive!", he says, spreading his arms. He reaches out to you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder and there is something in his eyes that you haven't seen in a while from the man. Sincerity. "What you did...thank you."

You all fill Dutch in on what has gone down in his absence, telling him how much Sadie has done to keep everyone safe and well. It warms your heart, listening to the praises that are being sung for your friend. God knows she deserves it.

"Here you is!", Bill shouts after barging through the front door, startling you. "I asked everyone I could find and eventually someone knew. Said you fools were hidin' out here!"

Your smile drops and you would have loved to give that thick skull of his a decent smack. What does he think, running around and asking random people about the gang? A sigh leaves your lips as you wonder how long it will take for the Pinkertons to find you again. Not long, you guess.

"Gimme a drink or somethin'!", he yells at Sadie, who's retort comes out faster than a bullet.

"Get your own damn drink!"

"In our absence, Mrs. Adler has been lookin' after things.", Dutch chimes in, voice low and irritated. He directs it at Bill while he hands him a cup. "Now sit down."

A pleased smile graces your lips as you watch Bill back off. Sadie's face is a reflection of your own satisfaction, nodding towards Dutch. Unfortunately, the moment doesn't last too long, a familiar voice booming in from outside.

"This is agent Milton from the Pinkerton Detective Agency!"

With a hissed curse under your breath, you close your eyes and lightly hit the back of your head against the wall behind you. Memories of indescribable pain flood your mind as you hear the voice of the man who shot you.

Fucking called it.

Milton yells some more, but you can't make out the words, the tightness in your chest being the only thing you can focus on at the moment. Everyone around you is up on their feet and on high alert and Arthur signals you to stay where you are.

Well, there isn't much good you can do anyways with your wound still taking a toll on you and your guns laying around in your cabin. Even if you'd had your pistol on you, you're not sure if you would have been so eager to throw yourself into the action.

Then Dutch screams. "Everyone, get down!"

Everything after that happens so fast. Shots are being fired at an incredibly rapid pace and you watch in horror how the wooden planks around you are being decimated. Someone throws themselves over you, pushing you down onto the floor.

Hot pain shoots through your stomach and you blink away the dark spots that are dancing in your vision from it. Lenny had dragged you down just in time to prevent you from ending up as Swiss cheese. If you wouldn't be in such a panic, you would have thanked him.

Desperately, you make yourself as flat as humanly possible and do the only thing you can right now. Wait for the led storm to be over. In the distance you can make out Sadie and Arthur crawling away. They're probably going to try and find a way around the Pinkertons.

"Asked everyone you could find, did ya, Bill?", Micah snarls and you can't believe that the day would come where you're agreeing with him on something.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, counting the gang members to see if anyone got hit. It's not an easy task with all the bullet and splinters flying around you and you cover your head with both arms. Quickly, you feel for your stomach, but your wound is fine. There is no blood seeping through the bandages.

After what feels like an eternity, the shooting stops. Sadie and Arthur must have succeeded and killed the man at the big gun. Now everyone else in here jumps up again and begins to drive the Pinkertons away. You and the people without any weapons on them still stay behind cover.

Some time later, the struggle stops and you can finally allow yourself to relax. Grunting and hissing, you force yourself back to your feet and Lenny jumps right to your side.

"Are you okay?", he asks, checking your form and you nod. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"It's alright. Thank you."

Arthur bursts through the door, his eyes darting around in a panic. All tension leaves his face when he sees you and he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You let out a pained yelp and he releases you immediately.

"Shit. Sorry."

"I'm okay."

"Sure?", he asks, concern lacing his face and he studies your face intently. "Did you get hit?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Did-"

"Arthur.", you say in a gentle, yet stern tone. "I'm okay."

It takes a few seconds for the words to settle, but then he let's out a long sigh. You follow him outside where Sadie, Micah and Dutch are standing close to a wagon. It seems like they're having a heated discussion about something, but you can't hear about what when you get there, because Abigail shows up interrupting them.

"What are you gonna do 'bout John, Dutch?", she asks, piquing your interest in the process.

He got arrested during the bank robbery. As much as Abigail doesn't want to admit it, it has been laying heavy on her.

"John?", Dutch repeats.

"He's in jail."

"We'll get him. Abigail, just...just not yet.", he murmurs, somehow sounding lost in a strange way.

"There's talk of hangin' him!", she shouts desperately. You understand. If there was talk about Arthur being executed, you'd raise hell to get him back.

"It's not gonna come to that!", the leader exclaims, rushing away. It almost seems like he's trying to avoid her. Almost.

Now it's only her, you, Sadie and Arthur standing. It started to rain a little bit, making your hair and clothes wet, but not drenching them. Abigail gives the three of you a pleading look.

"I'm beggin' you to help him. It would break my- the boy's heart.", she starts, holding her cheek and Sadie nods.

"Of course.", your friend says and you squeeze Abigail's shoulder reassuringly. You have no idea if you will be able to help break John out, but you want her to know that you will support her in all this.

After she walks away, Sadie tells you and Arthur that she will come up with a plan and that she will be waiting at a saloon in Saint Denis. The outlaw takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

"You should lay down."

"Not without you.", you argue and it's true. After all thus action, you don't think that you could find rest all by yourself.

Much to your relief, he doesn't refuse and lets you lead him back to the cabin you two share.

Chapter Text

"You found someone with a hot air balloon?", you ask, both fascination and disbelief lacing your voice.

Sadie is packing some things into the bags, that are attached on the sides of her horse's saddle. You notice that she's bringing awfully many weapons and bullets for a job as simple as scouting.

"You're really armed to the teeth, aren't you?", you comment, crossing your arms infront of your chest and watching her with a raised brow. She meets your gaze for a brief second, before turning her attention back to her work.

"Well, we will be scoutin' a prison.", she answers in a matter of fact way and your arms drop.

"Who's we?"

"Arthur will meet me at Doyle's Tavern in Saint Denis. My guess is that this Mr. Bullard will most likely only take a man up in the air. Said somethin' 'bout messin' up my vapors."

Granted, your bullet wound hasn't fully healed yet, but a normal scouting mission won't take too much of a toll on you. If you play your cards right, then you could convince your friend to take you with her to the saloon. All these weeks of being cooped up in that small cabin, have left you yearning for some action.

"Mind if I join you?", you start and she shoots you a look as if you just grew a second head.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?", she exclaims, turning her entire body to you now and letting go of the saddle bags. "Have you forgotten 'bout your condition?"

"I'm fine-"

"Fine, my ass! Arthur will have my head, if I take ya with me."

You're well aware that the last part is probably true, but there is still a way to get her on your side.

"Sadie, please.", you say with urgency. "You said that only Arthur will be on the balloon, right? I'll just wait with you on the ground then."

She studies your face a very long time and you're starting to fear, that she might still stand her ground. There is something shifting behind her eyes, but it vanishes quickly when she let's out a defeated sigh. Triumph already begins to bubble up in your chest, upon hearing that sound.

"Alright.", she finally admits, but then wiggles her finger infront of your face. Her tone carries a warning. "But don't you dare even think about reachin' for your gun! You ain't shootin' nobody out there!"

An eager nod is all you respond with, before carefully mounting Penthesilea. The action hurts you, but you do your best to mask it. Sadie watches your through narrowed eyes, before signaling her horse to carry her out of Lakay.

Quietly you follow closely behind. The name of the saloon sounds familiar to you, as you recall it again. Doyle's Tavern was the place the two of you went out drinking after your small fight with Arthur, wasn't it? That's where you met James.

Thinking about the business man and former prisoner of the Van Der Linde gang, fills your with a kind of worry. It's not that you're concerned about him running to the police or anything. More that he might be crazy enough to seek you out once again. Well, there is nothing you can do, except hope that he has at least some ounce of self preservation.

From what you've gathered, ever since the Pinkertons ambush, Sadie has been out finding information about John's whereabouts behind Dutch's back. It's strange to you, that the leader seems to not care what happens to the outlaw. Especially considering how he usually jumps when Micah is in trouble.

But then again, Dutch didn't really jump into action back when Arthur got taken by the O'Driscolls. You can't seem to wrap your head around what priorities the gang leader has. Did you simply mishear him calling Arthur his son or is that a way of keeping the outlaw on a leash?

Quickly you push these thoughts to the back of your mind, before they can give you a headache. This entire thing is fucked and you're surprised that not more people are seeing it. Maybe you just haven't been part of the group for long enough or it's the fact that you don't belong here in the first place.

"You okay back there?", Sadie rips you out of your thoughts. "You've been oddly quiet this entire time."

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

"If you want to, then you can turn back.", she offers and shoots you a quick look over her shoulder. Her eyes fall on the spot where your injury is. "Ain't no one thinkin' that you're weak, if that's what you're worried 'bout."

"No, I'm fine. Really.", you answer. Appearing weak has never been of any concern to you, when you're with her.

Soon you arrive at Doyle's Tavern and that is when you recognize the place fully. Yes, that is where you and her got hammered alright. Memories of that day flood your mind and your hand automatically reaches up to touch your hat. It was one of the first things you had requested to be brought back, when they went to Shady Belle to pick up some supplies and equipment that got left behind.

"So what exactly will Arthur be doing up there?", you ask, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the high bar stools.

"Just check if John is still there.", she answers, before ordering a drink. You decide that it would be better to not consume any alcohol until that wound of yours is doing better.

"And what happens after that? It doesn't look like Dutch is eager to help, to be honest.", you respond, observing her reaction to your words. You want to know, if she shares your view on the leader and his slow, but steady decline.

Much to your disappointment, she doesn't comment on him. "Arthur and I'll get him out then."

"Just the two of you?"

"That's all we need and don't think, that I'll be takin' you with us. This here is an exception." She says the last part sternly, her voice not leaving any room to argue.

"Of course.", you murmur and lean your arms against the bar counter.

Once you're recovered, you should maybe celebrate with a glass of sherry. Really treat yourself after taking a bullet. After a while of just waiting and talking more about the plan, Arthur steps into the saloon. The sight of him alone is enough to lighten up your mood, although you already were doing pretty well.

The corners of his mouth lift as well, once his eyes land on you and he gives your shoulder a fleeting touch as a greeting. Out in public, he's still a bit hesitant to put his affection on display, but you don't mind. Behind closed doors, he melts into a puddle like hot wax under your touch and those are the moments that count.

"Any problems comin' in?", Sadie asks with curiosity.

"Nah.", was Arthur's simple answer. Even if there were problems, they're no match for someone of his caliber.

"Guess now they know we ain't in the city."

"What? Mr. Milton's friends?"

"Yes.", you chime in. "They've had patrols out ever since you guys disappeared."

He meets your gaze and something flickers in it for a short moment. It almost looked like he wanted to apologize or something. Sadie clears her throat and she looks at the outlaw as if she's unsure about her following words.

"What happened in..."

"Guarma?", Arthur clarifies and she gives him a barely noticeable nod. "Nothin' nice."

He lowers his gaze and you feel an urge boil up within you. It's an itch that's building up and you can't quite stop it.

"What happened with Dutch?", you blurt out, before you can even process the question in your head. Before the bank heist, he was acting weird, but now it's more obvious than ever. You've caught onto the way Hosea looks at the man and it only confirms your suspicions. Dutch Van Der Linde is not the man he used to be.

"Seems as...", Arthur starts. "What began happenin' in Blackwater, began happenin' years ago. Maybe."

Relief washes over you. At least now you know that you can voice your concerns to them about this topic. They're the people you're closest with in the gang and if you can't confide in them, then you can't confide in anyone.

"But what are you doin' here?", the man then asks, straightening his back. "You should be restin'."

"This is just a simple scouting mission, right? No, guns.", you argue, ready to fight for your part in this.

"Relax, Arthur. She promised me not to overdo it.", Sadie adds and you instinctively square up your shoulders, now that you have her support on this.

Arthur looks from you to Sadie and then back to you, before doing a throwaway gesture. He knows that he can't win an argument against the both of you and you give your friend a thankful smile. Together you make your way out of the saloon and walk up to your horses.

They keep a close eye on you, as you mount up your Andalusian and again, you don't show how much of a strain it puts on you. Joining them could be one of the most stupid decisions you've made in a while. This entire time, you're scared that riding your horse alone will be enough to rip the wound open.

Every now and then, you subtly check the bandages, but there is no blood leaking out. As long as you're extra careful, then it might turn out alright for you. Sadie leads you to the outskirts of the city, where you spot a man standing next to a hot air balloon. The sight of it fills you with disappointment, knowing that you won't be able to try it out together with Arthur.

"By the way, I've been huntin' O'Driscolls.", Sadie mentions after explaining the finer details of the plan to Arthur. Her statement catches you off guard though.

You remember sometimes seeing her coming back to camp covered in blood and with a shadow cast over her face, but she never told you a thing. It's possible that she didn't want to upset you during your healing process, but it still feels like a knife piercing your heart.

"What?", Arthur exclaims, equally as surprised as you are.

"Seems like they drifted down here now."

Before you can make a comment about it as well, you arrive at the balloon. You slide off your saddle slower than usual, but it doesn't seem like anyone is taking notice of it. Sadie calls out to the man and introduces Arthur to him.

"Mr. Arturo Bullard at your service, sir.", he says directed to the outlaw and falls into a deep bow. Then his eyes land on you and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "And who is this beautiful lady, may I ask?"

You give him your name with a polite smile and his eyes twinkle apologetically.

"Ah, my apologies, Miss, but I'm afraid you can't join us on the ride."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Adler already told me.", you answer and he visibly relaxes at your words.

Arthur throws you and Sadie a confused look, before hesitantly following Mr. Bullard to the balloon. "She can't?"

"Oh no, sir!", the man shouts in shock, as if Arthur had suggested to shoot you on the spot or something along those lines. "It does terrible damage to them! To their vapors! I thought everyone knew about that."

Sadie spits on the ground when he proceeds to call her a delicate flower and you barely stifle a laugh. Then you meet the outlaw's gaze, who looks a bit lost and out of place in that basket. His eyes dart around the balloon like it's going to fall apart under him any second.

"You sure 'bout this?", he asks.

"Certain, sir, quite certain.", Mr. Bullard mumbles while finishing up the last preparations.

Shortly after that, Arthur has to pull on a rope that is dangling above his head and you watch in wonder as they take off. Mr. Bullard strikes you as quite the colorful character and it's almost a shame, that you can't listen more to him and Arthur talk. Sadie moves in the corner of your eyes and you turn your head to her direction.

"Where are you going?", you ask, as she walks back to her horse.

"They're gonna land near Annesburg, so we should meet them there.", she answers and you climb back onto your horse. "There...ah, there's also some business I gotta attend to."

The alarm bells in your head ring. "Business?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to get involved. You wait, while I take care of it." She signals for her horse to start going and you follow her.

"Sadie?" Your voice carries a certain urgency, letting her know that you won't let her off the hook so easily.

"There's this O'Driscoll camp-"

"And you'll fight them all by yourself? No, I'm coming with you." Your words come shooting out faster than a bullet and she gives you a sour look.

"I was scoutin' them out before and it's just two of 'em. Nothin' I can't handle.", she argues. "Besides, you said that you won't go out shootin'. That was my one condition."

Damn that woman and her stubborn head. Through gritted teeth, you reluctantly agree to not get involved and wait at a safe distance from the camp. The rest of the ride, you're just mumbling under your breath. It's loud enough for her to hear how much you dislike the idea of her getting herself into danger like this.

She stops on the side of the road, just outside of Annesburg, and gets off the horse. As you take the reigns of her horse to make sure it doesn't run off, you watch her disappear between the trees. The wait is awfully long, but you assume that it's simply because the camp is a bit deeper in the forest. Then you hear a few shots fall in the distance and you flinch.

Penthesilea's disinterest to the noise calms you down a bit and you tell yourself that it's nothing to worry about. Those were two shots afterall, so Sadie probably just took care of the guys she told you about. But then another one falls and you think you can hear shouting from further away.

That is when you spot a flash of white and she comes sprinting from out of the bushes.

"We need to run!", she yells, not giving you the time to respond.

Something flies dangerously close past your head and you motion for Penthesilea to gallop. By now, your pistol is in your hand and you fire the trigger a few times behind you, hoping to slow down the men who are chasing you. All of them are wearing the same green bandana.

"It will be fine, you said! Just two guys, you said!", you shout over all the chaos and Sadie scoffs.

"How should I have known that these bastards were plannin' to ambush me?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe because you've been out slaughtering them all one by one the last few weeks!"

That shuts her up and you gather all your energy into not dying. Pain courses in large waves through your body with all the moving and turning. Something flickers in the corner of your eyes and as you turn your head, you find yourself face to face with an O'Driscoll.

He's riding beside you and has his revolver pointed right at your face. There is no time for you to raise your own weapon. He will pull the trigger, before you can even get your pistol to a level to damage him. You really thought you wouldn't get shot again so soon and now it will even end with your death.

But then the man goes limb and slides off his saddle. With wide eyes, you lift your head and spot a familiar hot air balloon flying above you. Mr. Bullard is now in charge of the rope while Arthur is firing shots at the O'Driscolls. Relief washes over you, as you realize that you've been given a second chance.

The fight continues and you're now fleeing over some train tracks. At this point, the men have noticed that someone has been decimating their lines from the air and they're now aiming their barrels at the balloon. There is nothing you can do, except watch in horror as Mr. Bullard clutches his chest and stumble out of the safety of the basket. If the shot didn't kill him, then the fall surely did.

Frantically, you signal for Penthesilea to go faster, knowing it won't do much. Your girl is already running at top speed. More bullets fly around you and you duck, in hopes that none of them will find their target. Every now and then, you twist your upper body to fire some shots yourself and every single time the pain in your stomach grows.

Arthur calls out to you and Sadie and throws over two ropes. The moment it's in your reach, you grab it with both hands. Sadie is already starting to climb up, but you're not sure if you're able to do the same. Every muscle in your body aches and when you try to hoist yourself up, you slip from the pain of your injury.

Then something tugs at your rope and you look up to see Arthur pulling you closer. He grabs your by your shoulders to help you into the basket. Quickly you notice that even now you're not going to be allowed to catch your breath. The balloon is losing height at a rapid pace and you hold onto the edges.

"I think we're gonna crash!", Arthur shouts, as you rush closer to the river.

"You have a real habit of statin' the obvious!", Sadie responds, who has managed to get inside all by herself.

The bottom of the hot air balloon scrapes over the water, making the entire thing bounce up, before gliding over the river again. It's bumpy, but fine until you reach the other side. The basket gets stuck on one of the many rocks at the shore and you're being catapulted forward.

With extended arms, you try to catch your fall, scratching up your palms in the process. Pebbles cut your hands and cheeks and you can't do much, except curl up into a groaning ball and clutch your stomach. You can't tell if your blouse is wet from the splashing water of the river or from your own blood.

A shadow falls over you, as Arthur rushes to your side. Pure terror is written all over his face and he hastily inspects you. Soon enough, Sadie jumps up and points to the other side.

"Look! The must have followed us!"

Arthur helps you up to your feet and together you take cover behind a boulder. Exhausted, you lean your back against it and hold onto your pistol. Good news is, that you're not bleeding. Bad news is, that the slightest movement overwhelms you, meaning you can't help fight off the group of O'Driscolls that is threatening to close in on you.

I should have stayed in my small cabin, goddammit.

After an agonizingly long time, the shooting comes to an end and by the look on both your companions faces, you have won. Arthur is kneeling next to you with his hand on your shoulder and you wave him off.

"I'm good.", you say, your strained voice sounding anything but convincing.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea they was expectin' me.", Sadie chimes in, her features contorted in genuine sorrow and regret.

"Don't worry. I was the one who pushed on joining you today."

Arthur slings an arm around your waist and he carefully lifts you back up onto your feet. As you lean on him entirely, you just take a moment to enjoy the warmth of his body seeping into yours. That alone makes you feel a bit better. But then you notices how his face is twisted in fury and it's all directed at Sadie.

"The hell is wrong with you?", he roars, your protests falling on deaf ears. "I only left you for an hour! You can't stay out of trouble for one goddamn hour? You got that poor bastard killed for his troubles! I kind of liked him! Not to mention-"

He stops himself from finishing the last sentence, as if he doesn't even want to voice it out loud. His eyes flickers to you for a moment and you immediately take his hand in yours. Maybe that will soothe his anger. Not that you don't understand him. You might have reacted the same if you and Arthur would swap places.

"They got Colm. The government has Colm O'Driscoll.", Sadie then says, ignoring the man's outburst. "They plan on hangin' him in Saint Denis."

"Hang him? Okay.", he answers, sounding extremely uninterested. Unlike you. This has your full attention.

"Nuh-uh! He's already been tried twice for murder and found guilty."

"Sure and no doubt he'll escape again!"

"Not if we make sure that he hangs.", you add and you feel Arthur's gaze on you.

"Dutch'll wanna see him swing too.", Sadie agrees, but the mention of the leader's name has the outlaw shake his head in disapproval.

"Dutch wouldn't even wanna help us with Marston!", he retorts and throws up his free hand. "And in case you two haven't noticed, we got our own problems at the moment!"

With every word, his voice becomes louder, but Sadie doesn't seem too fazed by his harsh reaction. "I'll make sure that that bastard will swing."

"Closely followed by Marston!", he shouts and you find support at one of the trees, letting him pace around in frustration.

"So you saw him?", you ask, trying to steer the conversation to another topic before this escalates any further.

"Yes. In the fields."

"Good.", Sadie says. "Then we'll go rescue him."

He scoffs. "From a state penitentiary?"

"It should be easy to get him, if he's out on the fields.", you counter and he points his finger at you.

"You ain't gettin' involved in this. Today was already...goddammit." Arthur runs a hand over his face and you furrow your eyebrows in worry.

Sadie says that she will work out a more detailed plan with how to break into the prison to get John out and rides off into the distance, leaving you and Arthur alone. Biting back pained grunts, you limp over to him and cup both his cheeks in your hands.

"Hey.", you softly call out and stare into his blue eyes. He looks incredibly tired and you pull him in for a kiss.

His lips gently move against yours and you feel his arms wrap themselves around your form, his hands grabbing a fistful of your blouse.

"We'll see this through. We'll get John back and have Colm pay for what he did.", you speak in between kisses and he leans his forehead against yours.

"And then what?", he asks. "I'll wait until you get hurt again?"

"I won't get hurt, Arthur."

"No. No, you won't."

There is something about his words that make it sound final. All this. The gang, the outlaw life, it all is slowly coming to an end, as your enemies close in and Arthur knows he has to make a decision soon.

He couldn't do it for Eliza and he couldn't do it for Mary. Can he do it for you?

Chapter Text

Without saying another word, he bolts out of the police station, the chief throwing a baffled look after him. With one swift motion, he mounts his Nokota and signals the stallion to start galloping. In his hurry, he almost runs over a few pedestrians, who are now yelling various profanities at him.

But now is not the time to follow the traffic laws precisely. If he ends up getting fined, then so be it. His horse carries him at a remarkable speed, one he probably shouldn't be riding in a city like this, but time is of the essence.

If his sources are correct, then the man he has to find is somewhere holed up in the swamps up north. He recalls the map of the area in his mind. The name of the place the man is hiding at is on the tip of his tongue, but it just keeps slipping away everytime he tries to grasp it.

It doesn't matter as long as he knows which direction to ride in. Maybe it's foolish to show up unarmed and without anyone at home knowing where he's headed. He might get shot on the spot, but dammit he's left without another choice.

In the distance he spots a small, rundown village and he signals for his Nokota to slow down. Smoke is rising up into the sky. So that place is clearly habited. As she squints his eyes, he can make out a few people walking around. Unfortunately, he's too far away to tell if he recognizes ant of them.

From this point on he can't continue on horseback or rather shouldn't. That would alarm them. The muddy ground let's out a wet sound when he slides off the saddle and he wrinkles his nose in dismay. These shoes and pants are definitely ruined now. On any other day, he might have mourned them a bit more.

He crouches down and begins to sneak from tree to tree. His heart is in his throat and he has a hard time keeping his trembling hands still. Some shouting can be heard and he takes a peak from behind the tree trunk.

A man with long dark hair comes rushing in on horseback. He exchanges a few words with another guy, who has jet black, slicked back hair. He remembers that man only all too well, the authority around here.

His eyes scan the small village for the one who's least likely to shoot him on the spot (and that is not exactly a low probability either), when he suddenly feels something cold and hard pressed against his temple.

"Not a single word.", a woman next to him drawls and he studies her from the side.

Her long, unruly blonde hair is tied into a braid and her freckled face is staring down at him with murderous intent. It's difficult to make out a lot from his position, but it's enough to recognize her.

"Mrs. Adler, was it?", he stammers, raising his hands to show her that he means no harm.

"Well, I'll be damned. I didn't think I'd see ya again.", she says, her tone both surprised and amused. "You are dumber than I thought."

Quickly, he says the name of the woman who has saved him from an early end, as if it's a spell that keeps her from blowing his brains out. Mrs. Adler freezes on the spot and all hostility from before is back again ten fold. She pushes her gun more harshly against his head now and he almost winces from the impact.

"What is it with her?", she demands. "Talk or I won't think twice 'bout shootin' you."

"For Christ's sake. I would have told you even without all your threats.", he hisses in irritation. This one really doesn't waste her time on pleasantries. "You need to get your friend. Arthur was his name?"

"And why should I do that, huh?"

"They got her. Bounty hunters. She's being held at the police station in Saint Denis."

For a few long seconds, there is nothing but silence. Much to his dismay, she shakes her head.

"Why should I believe you?", she asks, voice low and menacing.

"Because if you don't, then she will die." His next words make her heart almost stop. "There's talk of hanging."

A few hours earlier

"We'll break him out, when he's workin' on the field. Arthur and I got this, Abigail.", Sadie says, sounding more than just convinced of her plan.

Abigail on the other hand still looks like the world around her is ending, but you don't blame her. With a reassuring smile on your lips, you take her hand and give it a light squeeze.

"I know it's easier said than done, but relax.", you attempt to comfort her. "If Arthur is on the job, then it's halfway done already."

Your words get a sigh out of her and she nods barely noticeable. There isn't much to argue with your statement. You don't even remember the last time Arthur had failed on a job. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure that has never happened. At least since you've joined the gang.

Sadie gives your foot a light tap with hers and motions with her chin behind you. Immediately, you understand what she wants and the two of you get up from the table to walk over to a pile of crates. She lights a cigarette, a veil of smoke covering most of her face.

"I actually need your help with this.", she starts in a hushed voice. The topic of rescuing John is still a taboo around Dutch, so talking about it alone is quite the risk.

"Of course.", you answer in a matter of fact way. Who would you be to refuse?

"Dutch got me on a shit ton of patrollin' and watch-out duty and Arthur is out with Charles to look for a new camp." She pauses to blow out some smoke. "I need you to ride into Saint Denis and find someone with a rowin' boat we could borrow."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You want to row to Sisika?"

Sure, you haven't looked over it with a balloon like Arthur, but you don't need to fly to see that the small prison island is extremely far away.

"What else do you expect us to do?", Sadie retorts and you rub your forehead.

She's right. It's not like they could fly there again and finding a captain who'd be willing to help them break out a prisoner would prove to be difficult, impossible even. A defeated sigh escapes you.

"Okay then. I'll go and get you a boat. Anything else?"

"No, not at the moment, but I don't think we need more than that.", she answers with a shake of her head.

Yesterday's disaster with the O'Driscolls has left it's marks on you. The wound is doing worse now, but that's something you decided to keep to yourself. There's no need to have anyone worry.

"How about we tell Hosea about this?", you suggest and she studies you with an unreadable look. "I can't imagine, that he shares the same opinion as Dutch about all this."

No, he wouldn't leave John behind. You're convinced of that.

"Arthur said he'd talk to him, but he ain't told me nothin' yet."

You simply nod and make your way to Penthesilea, but then Sadie grabs you by the wrist. It's not a strong hold, you could easily break free from her grasp.

"Listen..." There is a troubled look in her eyes, but it vanishes as quickly as it had appeared. "Just be careful out there, okay?"

"I'm always careful."

With these words, you pull away and mount your Andalusian. It's good to get out of the swampy area again. You hope that the next camp will be far as away from here as possible. At this point, you're kind of sick and tired of Lemoyne and it's dangers.

Knowing that the law is patrolling the city's outskirts, you do your best to avoid the main roads and take turns whenever a rider or two are approaching from the opposite direction. Granted, it's taking way longer to reach Saint Denis than usual, but these are necessary precautions.

You'd feel safer with someone else at your side, but you can't risk Dutch finding out about your plans. Although you're quite sure that Lenny and Sean would have been more than happy to join in on this.

Once you reach the outskirts, you move east towards the coast. Someone at the docks could have a rowing boat for rent, but you hope that you find a kind and helping soul close to the bluewater marsh. Surely there must be some fishermen who'd turn a blind eye for a few bills.

As you follow the road, keeping an eye out for anyone, you spot two riders in the distance. They're riding along the road just like you, but you can't shake off the feeling that they're heading straight for you. Listening to your gut, you signal Penthesilea to turn around.

As the men come closer, the wind carries their voices over to you. It's not enough for you to hear what exactly they're talking about, but you can tell that it's a heated discussion. The hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You can't recall if you saw any weapon on them, but even if. That wouldn't be too strange. Almost everyone here has a gun strapped around their hips or torso. These are wild times after all and it's almost foolish not to leave the house armed. You know that more than anyone by now.

Behind you, you hear the sound of hooves becoming louder and you try to stay calm. There's no need to make them suspicious by running away. Maybe they're simple travellers. At least it didn't look like they were wearing the same suits as the Pinkertons.

"Hey, Miss! Could you help us for a second?", one of the men calls out to you, but you know better than to stop.

Much to your dismay, they catch up to the point where they're riding beside you now. Without even blinking, you keep your gaze set straight ahead and your hat deep in your face. There's no need to show them what you look like.

"We was headed to Van Horn, but got lost.", the other speaks up and you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

Van Horn? The trading post? If you're not mistaken, then that town is somewhere in the direction they came from. This means they're lying. The realization hits you like a slap to the face and dread settles deep within your stomach. It's laying heavy in there like one of Pearson's worse stews.

What now? The men are flanking you on each side, so if you pull out your pistol now, you will only be able to shoot one of them. By the time his body hits the ground, you might have a bullet in your head already.

Without saying another word, you snap the reigns and Penthesilea breaks into a sprint. Here's hoping that she can outrun the other two horses. The men yell and shout after you and you don't have to turn around to know that they're chasing you.

One hand is gripping the reigns tightly, while the other fishes out your pistol from the holster. You have the option to try and lose them in the many streets and alleys in Saint Denis, but there you might attract the wrong attention. So you decide to take a sharp turn and head for the swamps.

If you're lucky, then the fog might provide enough hiding. All you know is that you can't lead them to camp, as much as you would have liked the extra guns and support from the others.

Suddenly you feel a sharp pain around your arms and chest and next thing you know, you're being yanked off your saddle. The collision with the ground doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would, but the force is still enough to push out all the air in your lungs.

For a few minutes, you're just laying in the wet mud and desperately gasping for air like a fish on land. Your bullet wound is pulsating uncomfortably, but thankfully there's no blood seeping through the bandages and clothes.

"They said you'd be a handful.", the man holding the lasso says.

He turns you around on your stomach and ties the rope around your wrists and ankles. It's so tight that it feels like it's cutting into your skin. With all your might, you try to wriggle free when he picks you up and throws you on the back of your horse. You groan in pain.

"Is this the right one?", the other asks and the first one pulls at your hair to get a better look at you.

Without giving it a second through, you spit in his face and he contorts his features in ugly disgust.

"You-", he starts, but doesn't voice the insult that is dancing around on the tip of his tongue. "You're lucky, that they want you alive."

So they are bounty hunters and professionals too, by the looks of it. They each have two guns hanging at their belts and upon closer inspection, you notice that their horses are carrying a small arsenal of weapons around. From shotguns to bows, they have it all.

They continue talking about you as if you're not even there, while they make their way to the city.

"I wonder what exactly she's done to have a bounty this high."

"It ain't our job to ask questions."

"I know that, but still. 250 dollars is a lot."

250? Under any other circumstance, you might have been impressed by that large sum. The bounty must have been put up by the Pinkertons, no doubt. And here you were hoping that they thought you dead after what happened at the bank.

Either Agent Milton thinks you as incredibly resilient or he doesn't rest until he sees a body.

"Didn't a warehouse blow up the other month? You think it was her?"

"We ain't bein' paid to think."

"Ain't you at least a little curious?"

"No."

Sure, you could maybe offer them money to let you go, but you like to think that you're above begging. If they're going to hand you over to the police, then the least you could do is endure it all with dignity.

Soon you arrive at the police station in Saint Denis and the guy who tied you up, throws you have his shoulder. It's pushing against your stomach and hot pain courses through your veins to the point where you see small dots dancing around in your vision.

"Where do you want her, chief?"

You hear doors being unlocked and the ear piercing squeaking of metal, before you're being places rather harshly on a bed. If you can even call it a bed. With its lack of a mattress and pillow, it's more some wooden planks nailed together than anything else.

Hastily, you blink the dots away and sit up with a pained hiss. Most of your clothes and hair are covered in dirt that has dried up during the ride here and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. As you take in your new surroundings, you see the chief of the police handing over a stack of dollar bills to the two bounty hunters.

There's a fourth man standing close to the group, one who seems to not fit in at all with his fancy three piece suit. You widen your eyes as you recognize him and he meets your gaze. Something akin to horror is written all over his face. You can't hear what the chief is saying to him, but next thing you know, James bolts out of the station as if the devil himself is after him.

His strange course of action confuses you, but you can't dwell on it for too long. The chief of the police walks up to your cell and studies you with an unreadable expression. To you it looks like you're a puzzle he's trying to solve.

"We don't have it everyday that the Pinkertons make such strange demands.", he comments and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What do you mean?", you ask, your owm voice sounding foreign in your ears. It's like someone else is speaking for you.

"Well, Miss, the bounty posters say they want you alive."

"And what's so strange about that?"

"You don't know?", he asks, looking at you in slight amusement. "You're planned to hang, Miss. When we got someone on the death row, they usually don't care if the bounty comes in dead or not. You must have done somethin' to piss 'em off real bad."

Both your face and heart drop and you fight back the upcoming panic. When you open your mouth, your question isn't more than a whisper. "When?"

"Hell if I know. They'll send someone, once we notify the agency."

You want to ask him more things, but he turns his back to you and leaves. Now that you think about it, maybe you should have offered these bounty hunters money or other riches to let you go. Now you're only left hoping that someone from the gang will come for you, before you swing.

---

Time passes and so does your patience. This cell has you feeling anxious and skittish and your clothes have begun smelling sour. Couldn't have the bounty hunters caught you under more dry circumstances instead of tossing you into the mud?

The Pinkertons have probably already received the chief's letter about you and now it's a race between them and the gang. You hope to see Arthur pick you up, before Milton even sets foot in this city. During the days, you try not to overthink your current situation, but it's impossible considering you have little else to distract you with.

The officers who work at the station are not too keen on talking to an outlaw and with the way you started to smell, they're pretty much doing everything to avoid your cell. On day three, you hear voices at the entrance and you try to catch a glimpse of what's happening.

Then a loud thud echoes off the high walls of the station and the door to the cells is being swung open. A man steps in and the sight alone is making your eyes well up with hot tears.

"You came.", you breathe out, as Arthur fumbles with the keys and unlocks the metal door.

Without hesitation you swing your arms around him and he holds you close.

"I'll always come for you.", he says. The lower half of his face is hidden under his black bandana, making it nearly impossible to read his expression.

"Guys! Hurry up!", someone at the front entrance calls out and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as your eyes fall on James, who is holding onto a revolver so tightly that the whites of his knuckles are showing. It seems like none of the officers in the back have noticed the small group and with a little luck, it will stay that way.

Arthur drapes a long coat over your shoulders, hiding the crust and mud of your clothes. Something dark flashes in the corner of your eyes and you see, that he's holding out your hat to you. You thought you lost it somewhere in the swamps when you got caught.

With a wide, thankful smile on your face, you place it atop of your head. The outlaw puts his hand on your back and keeps his handgun close to him, so that it's not visible on the first glance. Without any further ado you, Arthur and James walk out of the police station as casually as possible.

Playing a game of pretend like this isn't anything new for the outlaw and you, but James on the other hand looks like he's about to shit himself. You have no idea if you should feel pity or amusement at the sight.

Not much to your surprise, you spot Sadie and Charles waiting with some horses a few houses down the street. As you follow the sidewalk towards them, none of the pedestrians seem to take any notice of you. You would have loved to pick up the pace a bit and hastened to your friends, but you're very well aware that you need to keep pretending.

Once you're there, Sadie grabs you by both of your shoulders and stares you down. It's impossible to read her expression, as she finally let's go of you after a while. Arthur helps you climb his horse, noticing how your movement has become more limited now.

Being chased and tossed around really didn't do you or your injury any favors. And here you were thinking, that the time with the gang has hardened you to the point where you'd easily overcome a struggle like this.

Hunted down by bounty hunters is something you had imagined a bit differently though. For example, you didn't expect to be caught in the first place. Arthur throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, worry written all over his face.

"Are you hurt?", he asks with a strained voice.

"I feel a bit sore, if that counts.", you lie and hope he doesn't catch on. You feel way worse than just a bit sore.

"Those bastards better be far away, 'cause if I catch 'em...", he mumbles through gritted teeth.

In an attempt to comfort him, you squeeze his torso a bit tighter with your arms and lean your head against his back.

"I'm fine, Arthur. We have other things to worry about.", you protest.

While riding, you notice that your party missed a turn that leads to Lakay and that is when they explain to you how the gang has moved north. Charles and Arthur have found a cave close to Annesburg up in Beaver Hollow and how it used to belong to this Murfree group. All in all it sounds like they had their hands full with all sort of things.

Then suddenly the horses come to a halt and James clears his throat.

"This is the furthest I should go, I think.", he starts, scratching the back of his neck. It seems like he's struggling to find his words. "Will I be seeing you all again?"

"Let's hope for you, that you won't.", Sadie answers and the man chuckles dryly.

Before he turns around to return back to the city, you call out to him. As you look at him, you can't help but think how much of a shame it is that you met under these circumstances. He would have been a great friend.

"Thank you, James.", you say and then laugh softly. "And I'm sorry for blowing up your warehouse."

"Ah, it's no big deal. You guys actually helped me out with that."

He lifts his hand and you tip your hat in his direction, before watching him riding off and disappear into the fog. That was a nice way to say goodbye, actually. It has always bothered you how you couldn't see him again, before he ran off after the failed bank robbery.

Right after this, Arthur turns his stallion back around and you all continue following the road again. Soon the scenery begins to switch from grey swamps to green forests and you breathe in the earthy scent that is mixed with the saltiness of the sea.

It takes a while, travelling through two small towns and making you way up a slim road, until you reach Beaver Hollow. The moment you take a step further into camp, you notice the defeated mood in the air. Everyone seems to be hanging on by a thin threat.

The feeling of Arthur's warm hand on your lower back brings you back and he gently guides you to his tent. It fills you with relief and happiness, knowing he still wants to share a bed with you. Despite the bad energy around you, you can't fight back the smile that takes form on your lips.

"You need to rest.", he tells you and you sit down on the edge of the bed.

"I've been doing nothing but resting, Arthur. What I need is a proper bath.", you argue and wrinkle your nose in disgust when you sniff your blouse.

You spot the girls walking up to the tent, concern written all over their faces. Karen is the first one to throw her arms around your neck, followed by Tilly and Mary-Beth.

Something catches your attention on the other side of camp and you lock eyes with Micah. He watches the small reunion through narrowed eyes, before turning his back to you and strolling to where Dutch is sitting.

That whole interaction is leaving a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Chapter Text

As the sun slowly begins to set and drowns the camp in a deep orange hue, you pick up a fresh pair of clothes to take with you. There's still dried dirt stuck to your skin and hair and you don't feel like riding all the way to Annesburg just for a bath. So you take a bar of soap and make your way to the nearby river.

"And where do you think you're goin'?", a male voice calls out to you and you turn around on your heels, slightly startled by the sudden appearance.

Arthur has his thumbs hooked into his belt and strolls over to where you're standing. At the sight of him, all tension immediately leaves your muscles and you let out a relieved sigh.

"Thought I could head to the river and wash off properly.", you answer, pointing with your thumb behind you. Much to your surprise, he shakes his head and takes the stuff you're carrying from you.

"You ain't goin' there alone.", he says, his tone making it clear that he won't tolerate any protest. Not that you care though.

"I think I'm pretty capable of washing off by myself.", you argue and follow him down the small path, that leads away from camp.

"I ain't doubtin' your skills, sweetheart." There is a heavy pause. "It's just...lately you've been gettin' shot at everytime I look away."

His concern warms your heart and you reach out to touch his arm. You can't blame him for feeling that way. If the roles were reversed, you also wouldn't be comfortable letting him go out by himself. Even if it's just a few minutes walk away.

"And here I thought, you were just trying to catch me naked.", you tease with a mischievous smirk beginning to take form on your face.

He let's out barking laughter and shakes his head with an amused huff.

"That ain't the case."

"Sure. Whatever excuse makes you feel better."

Once you arrive at the river, you sit down on the shore and start to take your boots off. As much as your remark was only meant to be a joke, the prospect of being completely exposed to him still makes you nervous. Maybe you could ask him to turn away or something? While you contemplate, you come up with an even better idea.

With the speed the sun is setting at, it will be dark by the time you're undressed and then he won't be able to see much anyways. Besides, he did say that he doesn't want to leave you alone, right?

"Do you wanna join me?", you hear yourself ask, before you can even properly process the thought.

Arthur's head snaps in your direction and he awkwardly clears his throat.

"Why? Do I smell?"

His reply makes you groan in feigned annoyance. As you go to open up the first couple of buttons on your blouse, he quickly looks the other way. Respectful as always.

"That's not what I meant and you know it.", you answer, letting your blouse slide off your shoulders. It falls to the ground without producing any sound.

Once you've removed every piece of clothing you were wearing, you tiptoe over to the outlaw and intertwine your fingers with his. You don't want to push him to do something he doesn't feel comfortable with, but you're also aware that he's holding back with you.

It's both kind of silly and endearing to see a man like him this bashful about seeing you all naked. Though when you think about it, it makes sense. From what you've found out, Arthur hasn't really had what you'd call a wild love life. He rarely shows his vulnerable side to others.

As you stand up on your toes to plant a soft kiss on his jawline, you hear his breath getting caught up in his throat.

"I won't force you into the river, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.", you say in a hushed voice and make your way into the water.

At first it doesn't look like he's planning on moving from his spot at all, but then he begins to unbuckle his belt. It takes everything within you not to stare at him, so you distract yourself with brushing the dirt out of your hair.

When Arthur finally enters the cool water, he creates small waves and you notice how nervous you're becoming again. The outlaw keeps a respectable distance between the two of you and you turn to face him entirely. It's impossible to fight off the excited grin on your face.

"Hey.", is all you're able to muster up and he clears his throat again.

The awkward silence between you two hangs heavy in the air, until he takes the brush out of your hands and runs it through your hair. You can't imagine, that he's doing any progress with how gentle he is, but you don't complain. It feels too nice for it.

"Sadie wants to break into Sisika tomorrow.", he starts and you hum in acknowledgement. You know, that they won't let you join, so you don't even try to argue. "We'll need you to keep an eye on Abigail."

"Why?", you ask, throwing him a puzzled look over your shoulder.

"Seems like she wants to come with us."

That would be dangerous and she most likely already knows it. It must be tough. First she looses Jack and shortly after he comes back, John gets put behind bars. All that makes you wonder why some people willingly choose the outlaw life.

"What about Hosea?", you say.

"He said he'll make sure, that Dutch doesn't notice our plan."

It's still so strange that the leader isn't taking any actions to save John, but then again he has Micah whispering God knows what into his ears. Thinking about that man has you recall the way he stared at you after you got broken out of the police station. There was something off with the look on his face, but you can't quite place your finger on it.

"Listen.", Arthur starts, ripping you out of your thoughts. His voice sounds hoarse. "I got a bad feelin' about all this. If things get bad out here...then I need you to run."

It's like he has touched you with hot iron and you spin around, splashing water all around you.

"What are you saying?"

The look on his face is contorted in pain and something else. You can't decipher it with how dark it is.

"Hosea and some of the others think the same. The gang won't last much longer with how it has been goin'.", he explains, brushing loose hair strands out of your face. "Promise me to run when it goes to shit."

"I'm not running anywhere without you, Arthur.", you quickly argue. "You wouldn't leave without me either, so don't even try to fight me on this."

In one swift motion, you find yourself scooped up in his arms and his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes are fluttered shut as if he's aching and he whispers your name like a plea. It's so sweet and tender, but at the same time you feel like a sharp blade is piercing your heart, when you hear it.

"How 'bout this." He pauses to take a deep breath. "If you run, I'll come find you like I always do and then we start over."

Finally he opens his eyes and you stare at him in disbelief.

"Start over?", you repeat in bewilderment.

"Yes. As honest people."

But can you even do that? Can I even do that anymore?

That question is laying on the tip of your tongue, but you don't voice it out loud. Tonight, you want to allow yourself to be delusional. Mental images of you and Arthur living together in a cozy house, flood your mind and you relish in it.

"I think I quite like that.", you answer after a while and the corners of his mouth curl up.

Arthur's fingers trace your collarbone and run down the curve of your back. His touch leaves a hot trail, leaving you longing for more. Your hands cup his cheeks and you quickly pull him closer for a kiss.

As your lips move in sync together, you press your chest flush against his. It feels like your bodies fit perfectly into each other like two puzzle pieces. One of his hands is nestled in the crook of your neck, while the other is holding onto your hips as if you're his lifeline.

Gasps and pants fill the peaceful quiet around you, mixed together with the rustling of leaves and the rushing of water. He kisses you more, until your lips are red and your face is burning.

It takes the two of you longer than it should to wash off and by the time you're back in camp, most of the people have gone to bed. You're holding hands, hair dripping wet and an unwavering grin plastered on your face.

Together you sneak to Arthur's tent, where he drapes a thick blanket of your shoulders and pulls you down to lay next to him. Your fingers are tracing the outlines of his face and you watch him drift off into a deep slumber.

As you observe the way his chest slowly rises and falls and listen to his light snoring, you can't help but feel blue.

If things go bad I will run, but not to where you want me to go.

---

Arthur is taking you with him to the spot Sadie will be waiting at. At first it came to you as a surprise when he woke you up early in the morning, telling you that he has prepared the horses. Then said surprise got replaced by understanding, when he mentioned that Abigail is nowhere to be found around the camp.

As you approach the shore, you can hear the two women bickering about something serious. Sadie is busy getting the rowing boat ready, while Abigail is closely by her side and flailing with her arms.

"Arthur tell her!", the blonde woman yells, as you slide off your horses and walk up to them.

"Tell her what?", he asks.

"That she ain't comin' with us to collect her husband."

Abigail opens her mouth to protest, but Arthur cuts her off.

"Abigail, you ain't comin' and that's the end of the matter."

Quickly you rush to the woman's side and gently guide her away from the water. You shoot her a reassuring smile.

"Leave it to the professionals.", you say and weirdly enough, she doesn't fight you.

Sadie points her finger at you. "Make sure she doesn't swim after us."

Without saying anything, you simply nod and watch them row towards the small prison island. The thought of letting these two break John out all by themselves scares the shit out of you, but you can't show that now. Instead you put on a brave mask and walk Abigail to your horse.

"We should go back to camp and then we will wait with Jack there.", you suggest, as the both of you mount Penthesilea. "Trust me. Around afternoon or evening, you'll have him back."

Throughout the ride, you keep talking about this and that to get Abigail's mind off of things. She only ever replies with short hums, seeming to not even listen with one ear. As you pass through Annesburg, you hear shouting and slow down.

It sounds like a woman.

"Stay here.", you tell Abigail in a demanding voice. "If anything happens, ride back to camp."

"Where are you going?", she asks, worry lacing her voice, but you're already on the move.

With your hand placed firmly on your pistol, you turn around the corner and find yourself between some small houses. This must be where the mine workers live. Your eyes fall on a man, who's currently cornering a woman of a concerningly thin stature.

"Don't you have better business to do?", you call out to him and he looks over to you.

"Just keep walkin', lady. You don't want it to get ugly for ya.", he snarls and turns his attention back to the other woman. She's made herself small, pushing her back tightly against the wall and holding her hands out protectively.

Anger flares up in your chest and without hesitation, you grab the man by the collar of his shirt and yank him back. He stumbles back, startled by your sudden outburst and falls to the ground with a dull thump. Fury is written all over his scarred face, but it vanishes into thin air when you point your gun at him.

"Don't tempt me, buddy. I've killed men for less.", you hiss through gritted teeth.

The strain of pulling him away has exhausted you more than you'd like to admit and the injury in your stomach is pulsating again. Pearls of sweat are beginning to take form on your forehead, but he doesn't notice your struggle.

Instead, his eyes are fixed on the barrel staring at him and he scrambles back up to his feet. With raised arms, he starts to slowly and carefully back off, before falling into a sprint. A relieved sigh escapes you and you slide your gun back into the holster.

"Are you okay, ma'am?", you ask as you turn around, but stop dead in your tracks.

You recognize the woman infront of you and at the same time you feel like you're looking at a stranger. Edith Downes is a shadow of her former self and her face darkens, as her eyes light up in recognition as well.

"You lot just can't seem to leave my family alone, can you?", she snaps and rushes past you, not giving you a single look. "I already send that brute of yours away."

Brute?

"Mrs. Downes!", you shout, jogging after her without a second thought.

"Don't!", she barks and turns sharply around on her heels. She shoves her finger into your face, her features contorted in irritation and anger. "Isn't it enough, that you ruined my life? Have you come to laugh at me now?"

"That's not-"

"I don't want to hear another word from you!", she snarls, cutting you off and you immediately close your mouth shut. "You have taken everything from us and all I'm asking now is to be left alone."

With these words, she stomps towards a house and slams the door shut with such force that the structure is shaking. You stand there for a while, stunned and ashamed. Then you feel something warm on your shoulder and you come face to face with Abigail. She studies you with a concerned look.

"Who was that?", she asks, but you wave it off, not wanting to dive into that now.

The ride back has your mind wandering to dark places and you're gripping the reigns so tightly that the whites of your knuckles are showing. Once you reach camp, you go hole yourself up in Arthur's tent in an attempt to avoid the others.

Tilly walks up to you, carrying a bowl of steaming stew that she holds out to you. A bit confused by the action, you take it and place it on your lap.

"I haven't seen you eating enough lately.", she starts and takes a seat on a chair closeby.

The gesture makes you smile weakly and you breathe out a 'thank you', before digging in.

"How are you holding up?", you ask in between spoons and bites and she lowers her gaze, sighing in defeat.

"Barely.", she admits with a dry chuckle. "The gang seems so divided. It feels like everyone is choosing sides."

You nod with a hum. You have noticed the shift too and a certain hostility in the air. The gang members have started to sit in groups now or keep to themselves entirely. So many people have pointed it out to you before, but this entire time you were hoping that they were wrong.

"Things will get ugly soon.", you say, looking up from your empty bowl. "Just be prepared to run."

"You're startin' to sound like Arthur."

Before you can comment on that, you hear a familiar voice. Tilly and you exchange puzzled looks, before stepping out of the tent to go see what's going on.

Molly is stumbling through the camp, clearly drunk out of her mind. The other gang members drop everything they're doing to watch the spectacle as well. Dread begins to settle in your gut.

"So, Dutch! Did ya miss me?", she yells with Uncle following closely behind.

"I found her drunk in Saint Denis.", he tells the leader, confirming your suspicion.

Guilt washes over you at the realization that you haven't even noticed her absence at all.

"How funny, Miss O'Shea.", Dutch starts and she throws her arms up.

"It's Molly, you sack of shit!" Under different circumstances, you might have chuckled at the insult, but now you're just watching the whole thing with a grim face.

Dutch looks anything but happy, as she throws more insults at him and for a brief second you're ready to mark it off as another one of their fights. But then she drops something, that has you freeze in place entirely.

"I told them!"

Dutch's face drops, as he stares at her in utter shock.

"I'm sorry?", he says and you hope to God that it's just a misunderstanding.

"I told them and I'd tell 'em again!"

Molly faces his wrath head first, her stance unwavering. She has never looked so sure of herself like she does now and something stirs in the back of your mind. This isn't right. She must be lying.

"Molly...", you start, taking a step forward, but she doesn't pay you any attention.

"I told Mr. Milton and Mr. Ross about the bank robbery and I wanted them to kill ya!", she continues, swaying slightly from side to side.

With each passing second, Dutch grows angrier and you see his hands balling up into fists. If you don't stop her now, then she's going to die.

"She's drunk.", you speak up in an attempt to smooth the situation over, but it falls on deaf ears.

As he pulls out his revolver, you quickly step infront of the woman with your arms spread out. The look he gives you shakes you up to the core and you know what you're doing might end in your own death.

"Dutch, she's a fool. Please. She doesn't know what she's saying.", you try again.

Molly cackles. "Not so high and mighty now, your majesty?"

"Dutch, the girl is right.", Hosea speaks up as well now, taking your side in this matter. "Let's have her sober up first and then we can talk about this."

For a moment there, you think that you're on the safe side, until a loud bang cuts through the air. With widened eyes you turn around just in time to witness Molly clutching her stomach and falling to the ground. A gurgling noise can be heard from her throat, as she struggles to fill her lungs with air.

A glance to the side tells you all you need to know. Smoke is coming out of the shotgun, that Miss Grimshaw is holding and she gives you a grim look. Her lips are pressed together into a thin line.

"She knew the rules and so do you.", she says and you take in a shaky breath.

You try your hardest to keep your trembling hands still and you feel your knees give in. Lenny is immediately by your side, keeping you upright as you keep your gaze fixed on Molly's dead body.

As the others slowly get back to what they were doing, you stay and force back the hot tears that are welling up in your eyes. The two of you weren't anything you'd call close friends, but you had the feeling that you could have become close. If you only had the time.

"We gotta burn her.", someone says next to you. Micah is looking down on the woman as if she's an inconvenience and you scoff.

"She deserves a proper burial.", you argue and he stares you down.

"Traitors don't deserve a proper burial."

You completely ignore him and kneel down to pick Molly up by her shoulders, when you feel a hand grab you. Quickly, you jump up from your position and shove the barrel of your volcanic pistol into his ugly face.

"Don't touch me, you bastard.", you hiss through gritted teeth.

Instead of being intimidated by the prospect of having his brains blown out by a single pull of your finger, he laughs.

"Careful with that, darlin'. Someone might get hurt.", he purrs and that's when you feel something cold against your stomach.

You lower your gaze, seeing his own gun pointed at you and reluctantly, you step away. A pleased smirk is spreading on his bearded face and he casually strolls over to Dutch's tent.

---

By the time Arthur, Sadie and John arrive, it's late in the afternoon and you feel absolutely exhausted. After last night's thorough bath, you find yourself covered in dust and dirt yet again. The smell of Molly's blood hasn't left your nose all day.

Lenny, Karen and Sean were kind enough to help you bury her somewhere outside of the camp and you have taken your time to pick some flowers. Dutch has been eying you intently ever since you've come back from that.

"You brought him back to me!", Abigail exclaims, slinging her arms around John's neck.

Arthur spots you from across the camp and rushes over to you, worry written all over his face. With his thumb, he brushes off a speck of dust from your check and studies your form.

"What happened?", he asks in a low voice and you just shake your head, unable to speak.

"John!", Dutch calls from the other side and comes closer. "What are you doin' here?"

"It's good to see you too, partner.", John says, still wearing the striped prisoner attire.

"I meant I hadn't sent for you yet."

"I went.", Arthur chimes in, shielding you from the others with his broad shoulders.

"But I said-", Dutch starts, when he gets interrupted by another voice.

"We know what you said.", Hosea chimes in and grunts when he stands up from the crate he was sitting on. "We felt different."

The betrayal depicted on Dutch's face is so evident, that you almost feel it too. He would have bought it from Arthur it seems, but hearing it from his oldest ally hits him pretty hard. There is silence for a long time, until he catches himself again.

"And when springing John brings the law down on all of us? What then, Hosea?"

"Then we'll have another fight on our hands.", the older man replies. His voice is strong and convincing, but you can see in his eyes, that this breaks him.

Arthur moves to stand by his side, chin held high and his back straight as a candle. You've never seen him defy his father figure with such resolve and you quickly step next to him. You take his hand, letting him know that he can count on your support.

"Loyalty.", Dutch starts. "It ain't...I had a goddamn plan!"

Then his attention shifts to John and he continues. "You are my brother. You are my son. I was coming for you."

"They was talkin' of hangin' me, Dutch.", John protests. After he finishes his sentence, Abigail looks like she's about to rush the leader if it weren't for John holding out his arm to stop her.

"They was talkin'. They was talkin'!" Dutch slowly backs away. "And now they might come and hang us all!"

With that you pull Arthur after you, leading him to the tent. Today is laying heavy on your shoulders and you don't want to see anyone for now. As you bury your face into his chest, you let it all spill out.

Through sobs and gasps, you tell him about the events from today and he holds you until your throat is sore and your cheeks are dry.

Chapter Text

This morning you wake up to an empty bed. Either you have slept longer than usual or Arthur had gotten up at an ungodly hour, because you don't even feel the remnants of his body heat. With your mouth cracked open to a yawn, you scan the camp.

Most of the people are still in their sleeping garments. While rubbing your eyes and stretching your back, you climb out of bed and make your way to the fire. Sadie, John and Lenny are sitting there, their faces grim. Though that's not an unfamiliar sight nowadays.

Sadie hands you a steaming cup of coffee, as you sit down on the log next to her. You mumble a quick 'thanks' before taking a careful sip. After giving yourself some time to wake up properly, you clear your throat.

"Where's Arthur?", you ask her and she scoffs.

"Out with Micah and Dutch, I think." Her answer makes you frown.

Him being on a job with Micah isn't good news. At this point you're genuinely beginning to worry that that fool would do something to him. An exhausted sigh escapes your lips and you walk back to Arthur's tent to get ready for the day.

Since moving to Beaver Hollow you have kept your belongings in his tent. It has given you the illusion of a domestic life with the outlaw and you often times catch yourself fantasizing about the softest of things. Dreams about being married and owning a stable or a ranch flood your mind during the rare occasions, when you don't think about death.

As you button up your blouse and throw your coat over your shoulders, you decide to pay Mrs. Downes a visit. Granted, last time you saw her she wasn't too happy about meeting you again, but maybe you could offer some help. As proud as she is, she can't deny that she could find use in it.

No one pays you any mind when you saddle up Penthesilea and ride down the mountain towards Annesburg. On the way there, your stomach starts to growl and you mentally scold yourself for not eating some of Pearson's stew for breakfast. Perhaps you can buy something in the small mining town.

The road through the forest is empty with only a few riders passing you every now and then. So far you can't spot any Pinkertons, which is a good sign. You recall Charles mentioning that some Murfree folk are still roaming the area and you tense up a bit.

Imagining them running up to you with a machete held high sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine and you dearly hope not to encounter any of them. If you're struggling to fight off regular bounty hunters, then you definitely shouldn't go toe to toe with one of those cold blooded killers.

Fortunately enough the ride goes by rather peacefully and you hitch your Andalusian on the side of the street. You don't quite remember which house belongs to Mrs. Downes, but you try your luck somewhere in the middle row and you're right.

The door is being opened only a little bit and a familiar face greets you. A shadow falls over it the moment her eyes land on you and she goes to close the door again without a word, but you stop it with your foot.

"I just came to talk.", you say, earning a bitter scoff.

"I don't want to talk with the likes of you.", she snarls, pushing the door against you, but you're stronger.

"Mrs. Downes, please. Give me a moment of your time."

After a while she stops, but doesn't open the door any wider. She scrutinizes you with a mix of suspicion and dismay. You want to shrink under her piercing gaze. That's when you realize, that you haven't seen her son around.

"Your son.", you start, unsure how to word your question. "May I ask where he is?"

There is a long pause and for a brief second you fear, that she won't answer you at all.

"Out working in the mines.", she responds curtly, her voice strained as if she doesn't want to talk about it. Understandable.

But the mines aren't a place for a young man such as him. In fact, you're pretty sure that he's still a boy if you remember his looks correctly. If he continues working there, his lungs will most likely give in.

Quickly, you search around in your satchel until you get ahold of a clip with some dollar bills attached to it and hold it up for her to see.

"Please take this and move to another place."

A better place.

Much to your disappointment, she wrinkles her nose almost in disgust as if you're presenting her a pile of shit and not money.

"I don't want anything from you.", she hisses, earning a sigh from you.

"Mrs. Downes-"

"Leave us alone."

With that she slams the door shut with brute force and you barely pull your foot out in time. If she won't listen to you then perhaps her son will. As you put back the clip and turn away from the house, you hear gun shots coming from the docks.

The people around you scream in terror and flee like rats caught roaming around in a cellar. You too crouch down on instinct and rush towards your horse. Whatever is happening over there, you don't want any part of it. Right before mounting Penthesilea to ride into safety, you spot three men running towards the train tracks.

Your heart drops when you recognize Arthur amongst them and a deep pit forms in your gut. Armed men seem to be all over the town and they're all chasing after them. You watch them run up a pair of wooden stairs at a structure towering over the train tracks and you hoist yourself up the saddle.

In your current state, you won't be of much help if you follow them on foot, but you can try to make their escape easier. Without hesitation you signal your horse to take you up the hill, careful not to run any civilians over.

There in the distance, you make out a handful of riders who seem like they're attempting to cut off the three outlaws. Instead of fishing your pistol out of the holster, you grab your rifle that is securely stored on the side of your saddle and you aim.

The recoil is harsher than you expected, but you quickly steady your grip. You're anything but used to this weapon, but after a couple attempts you start to get the hang out of it. Not all of the bullets hit their mark, but enough to be effective and the dead riders slide off the back of their horse.

Once you reach the other side of the wooden bridge over the train tracks, you lock eyes with the three outlaws. Arthur's expression is filled with both worry and bewilderment at your sudden appearance. Dutch on the other hand eyes you up and down with an unreadable look on his face.

"Well done.", he says in your direction, after he notices the dead bodies further down the road. His voice carries another emotion, but it's too deeply buried for you recognize it's meaning.

With all the chaos surrounding you, you don't have the opportunity to speak up. Shortly after your small reunion more riders show up and you all take off into the forest. The chase continues, bullets flying around your head, but you're forced to store the rifle away to have a better grip on the reigns.

You cut deeper into the woods and away from the road to try to shake off the men, who are after you. With the pistol now firmly in your hand, you shoot behind you, not checking if you even hit anyone. It continues on this way to the point where you're completely disoriented.

The way from Beaver Hollow to Annesburg and from Annesburg to Van Horn is familiar to you, but now you're entirely lost somewhere in these dense woods. It's slowly turning into a struggle, avoiding rocks and threes that seem to just materialize out of nowhere.

After a while you arrive at a river, shooting the last few men and once you reach the other side you slow down. Desperately you pant and gasp for air, every muscle in your body aching.

"We're all okay?", Dutch calls out into the round, as you all jump off your saddles.

"Interestin' social call.", Arthur comments, his voice carrying a hint of discontent.

"Oh don't play superior and dumb at the same time, Morgan.", Micah chimes in and you glare daggers at him. "We all knew, that sooner or later Cornwall had to go."

Hearing this, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you give Dutch a puzzled look.

"Cornwall is dead?", you ask, disbelief lacing your voice and he nods without answering.

Micah hands him over a small stack of papers, which you assume are bonds or something along those lines.

"It's attention we don't need.", Arthur speaks up. "It feels like the world's closin' in on us."

Arthur walks up to the leader and they exchange a few heated words, which you can't hear from where you're standing. Much to your dismay, you feel a pair of cold eyes burning themselves into you.

"I must applaud your timing, darlin'.", Micah says directed to you and you cross your arms over your chest. "What lucky coincidence, that you were there."

"I had some business in town.", you respond, not gracing him with a single look and he hums in feigned agreement.

"Sure."

That's when you turn on your heels to face him and your expression darkens. "What are you trying to say, Micah?"

"Nothin'.", he says, his voice oozing with sarcasm. "Nothin' at all."

Before you can say anything else to him, Dutch and Arthur return to you. The leader tells you about Cornwall's oil factory sitting on a pile of money and he mentions a distraction. The crease on your forehead deepens when you hear that it involves explosives and a bridge.

"Micah, take Bill with you when you get the dynamite." He pauses and his gaze lands on you. "You'll be joinin' them."

"Dutch!", Arthur immediately protests, outraged and with a raised voice. "She's still hurt!"

"We need as many people on this as possible."

"Then let me come with 'em."

The two stare at each other for a long time and that is when it hits you.

"No, I need you on somethin' else."

Micah has convinced him that you're the second rat. With a hollow feeling in your chest, you watch the two men ride off into the distance, leaving you and Arthur standing here alone. The outlaw hisses profanities, as he takes off his hat to wipe away the sweat on his forehead.

"I ain't lettin' you go there alone.", he says, his tone making it clear that he won't be swayed.

"Bill will be there.", you answer, a poor attempt to sooth his worries.

"Williamson?" He huffs. "I ain't trustin' that fool as far as I can throw him."

Humming, you cup both of his cheeks with your hands and gently turn his head to face you. Pain is written all over his features and you notice how the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth have become deeper. In the last few days, he has aged a lot.

"I will be fine." You do your best to sound convincing.

Arthur takes one of your hands in his and places a soft kiss on the inside of your palm.

"I'll get you out of here.", he murmurs.

"Arthur.", you say.

"Hm?"

"Can I ask a favor of you?", you ask, unsure if this is even the right time.

"Anythin', sweetheart." The nickname mixed with his raspy, deep voice makes your heart flutter.

"I was in Annesburg, because I went to see Mrs. Downes."

At the mention of the name, his face darkens a bit. "I tried talkin' to her too, but she wouldn't hear me out. Can't say I blame her."

"Me too." You nod. "She said her son is working in the mines and I thought, that maybe you could talk to him? She didn't tell me any specifics, but it didn't sound too good."

"Course. I'll get to it as soon as I can."

With that, his lips meet yours. It's a gentle action at first, but it quickly turns into a more heated kiss. Arthur burries his hand in the crook of your neck, while the other slides down to your lower back. His touch is warm, comforting. After a while you break away and pant against his lips.

"I'll try to talk to Dutch again 'bout having me come with ya.", he breathes. "If he still ain't lettin' me go, then I'll threaten Williamson to keep you away from the action."

"There's no need for that.", you argue, chuckling softly.

"There is.", he says, voice firm and serious. "If anythin' happens to you on that goddamn job, then the Pinkertons will be the last thing they gotta worry about."

"Let's just head back to camp and wind down for now,okay?", you suggest, wanting to change the topic to something more lighthearted. "I'm starving."

---

Right before nightfall, you find yourself sitting at the campfire next to Arthur and with some of the others. You've noticed that Charles has been gone for a while now and Sadie seems to be riding out of camp regularly too. Once you have the opportunity, you will ask her about it, worried that she might be taking on the O'Driscolls all by herself again.

The soft crackling of the burning wood fills the air and you lean your head on Arthur's shoulder. He wraps an arm around your form, pulling you a bit closer to his side. While in camp, you do your utmost best to ignore the strange looks some of the people around here give you, but it's hard.

Not too long ago, you were sharing drinks with them. Though you're not the only one who's experiencing some hostility. Just earlier today you heard Dutch and John fight, loud enough for everyone to listen. Sighing, you push those dark thoughts to the far back of your mind and Arthur plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"You good?", he mumbles into your hair and you only manage a weak nod.

Sensing, that you don't want to talk about what's bothering you, he doesn't press the topic further. Your eyes flutter shut and you relax against his broad frame, but unfortunately the moment doesn't last long. The sound of horses echoes in the distance and you make out two silhouettes approaching the camp.

Arthur is immediately on his feet and takes a step forward, shielding you from whoever just showed up. Your own hand twitches towards the gun holstered at your hip. Once you recognize Charles amongst them, you quickly relax again and so does the outlaw.

There is a man you have never seen with him, but you notice how Arthur's eyes light up in recognition. He walks over to the two men and you follow closely behind. In the corner of your eyes, you spot Dutch approaching your small group as well.

"Dutch! This is Eagle Flies.", Arthur call out to the leader. "His father is a great chief. Charles and I uhm..."

"Pretended to be mercenaries.", Eagle Flies finishes the sentence. "Did me a great favor."

There is a pause where Dutch throws Arthur an odd look, but then he shakes the man's hand and introduces himself.

"How do you do?", the leader asks politely, still seeming a bit wary of the newcomer.

"Not well, sir."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Arthur clears his throat after the short conversation between these two. "How's your father?"

"Father has confused wisdom with weakness.", comes Eagle Flies' rather harsh answer. "His people, my people. We've suffered too much, been lied to too much. Now they've taken our horses."

"Who?", you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in both confusion and concern.

Charles is the one, who answers. "The infantry division posted at Fort Wallace."

"Why?" Dutch's voice comes close to a demanding roar.

"Colonel Favours is a liar and a murderer. His people won't stop, until we're all dead. Without horses, we cannot hunt. Without hunting, we will starve. This is another act of war!", Eagle Flies declares, growing louder and more furious with each passing second.

"I see that.", Dutch comments.

You watch Eagle Flies fish out some cash from his pocket. "Your men have helped me before and I have money."

"Put your money away, son." Dutch turns to Charles. "What do you think?"

Charles stares at Eagle Flies for a while, before speaking up. "You know, I have told your father, that I won't fight over some horses."

It's a sound argument. With the gang on the run and everyone after you all, it really isn't smart to get involved in yet another conflict. It's bad enough to have the Pinkertons on your tail, but the army? Those are forces you can't afford to mess with.

"But I made no such promise.", Dutch says and you watch with wide eyes, as he tells Eagle Flies to follow him.

"Arthur, we must stop them before things get out of hand.", Charles says, his voice urgent and pressing.

"Let me come with you!", you exclaim in a plea, but Arthur raises a hand and shakes his head.

"Absolutely not."

"I can help."

"Not in this state." His eyes travel down to your stomach and instinctively you go to touch the spot where you're injury is.

Obviously he's not wrong, but you're sick and tired of watching him go and risk his life all by himself. Granted, Charles will be by his side this time and you trust that man with your life, but you can't sit and wait alone at camp anymore.

Every single goddamn time he's out there, you're just pacing around the tent, hoping and praying that he comes back to you in one piece. The anxiety will kill you sooner than any bullet. Quickly, you open your mouth to argue some more, but shut it when he cups your cheek.

His rough thumb brushes gently over your skin and you feel like you're going to melt on the spot with the way he looks at you.

"I'll come back as soon as possible.", he murmurs, planting a quick kiss on your forehead.

With that, him and Charles leave and you do what you always do when you're alone waiting. You hole yourself up in the tent the two of you share and lay in the small bed, breathing in his musky, earthy scent. At times like this you're tempted to light a cigarette and smell the smoke just to pretend he's nearby.

All night you toss and turn, unable to close your eyes even for a minute. Only when the sun begins to rise, drowning the camp in a rich orange color, do you hear the sound of hooves. Immediately, you jump up and stumble out of the tent. It feels like a great weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you see Arthur hitch his horse at one of the posts.

He looks tired, dark circles marking the underside of his eyes. When he pulls you in for a hug, you almost fall over with how much weight he puts into it.

"Sorry.", he grumbles into your neck and you rub circles over his back.

"Don't be." You take his hand, guiding him towards the tent. "Come. Let's rest for a moment."

He let's you push him onto the bed and you bury your face into his chest. His clothes smell slightly sour as if they've been drenched in water and not left to dry properly.

But now, with Arthur here again, you're able to drift off into a comfortable slumber.

Chapter Text

You're supposed to meet Micah and Bill at an abandoned house right outside of Van Horn. A wagon filled to the brim with dynamite is due to drive through the trading post and you need to steal it for Dutch's 'big distraction'. How on earth a blown up bridge is going to help you get away from the law is still beyond you, but no surprise.

On the contrary even, everything the leader has done lately is nothing but one large red arrow pointing right at the gang. At this point you're beginning to believe, that there in fact is no rat. It doesn't take a genius to know where you're hiding.

Oh no! How did they know where our camp was? Maybe thanks to the fact, that we keep going for the biggest scores this damn country has to offer?

You smack your lips in annoyance, as you think about having to work with Micah today. It would bother you way less if you could have at least Arthur with you or someone else you trust to have your back. Sure, Bill will be there too, but he has grown quite hostile towards you as well.

They weren't the only ones. Javier has been distancing himself from you, which is a damn shame, because you genuinely liked him. Now he's a vast contrast to the man who has helped you out in the snowy mountains in the beginning of this fucked up journey.

Ah, yes. The beginning. Images of your friend flash before your inner eye and you try to shake them off, but to no avail. Francis' voice is so clear in the back of your mind, that it almost feels like he's here with you. You wonder what he'd say to you now.

He would probably give you hell. If not for you turning into a ruthless murderer, then for the fact that you chucked the time traveling device into a lake. You don't want to begin to imagine how expensive that thing must have been. No, scratch that. It's most likely priceless.

In the distance you spot a run down house, looming between the dense trees and you signal for Penthesilea to follow the trail towards it. As you come closer, you hear the familiar voices of two men and you slide off the saddle after coming to a halt.

The action makes your injury ache and your hand instinctively moves to your stomach. You mask the pain and suck in a sharp breath. Micah's face is anything but welcoming when his eyes land on you. In fact, he looks rather pissed.

"Was you followed?", he almost immediately barks at you, making you stop dead in your tracks.

"Excuse me?", you ask, stunned by his audacity to speak to you as if you were his to command.

"I said, was you followed?", he repeats like you're a toddler, who asked him a stupid question.

Irritated, you narrow your eyes at him and decide, that you won't let him intimidate you that easily. If he wants to act all high and mighty, then he can do that with the other fools back in camp, but not with you.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Your voice comes out louder than intended and you feel your fingers twitch, itching to either reach for your gun or punch that ugly beard off his face.

"Sure. You're Morgan's whore, but that ain't what what I'm aimin' at right now.", he spits, standing up and stepping closer. He towers over you, using his size as a scare factor. "All I know is that there's law everywhere you go."

It's dumb of you to rile him up out here, in the middle of nowhere. Who's to say that he wouldn't shoot you where you stand and then blame it on the guys guarding the dynamite wagon? But you want to show him that you're bite and not only bark. That you can and will stand your ground even without the security of your man being present.

Your man...Arthur would have knocked out his teeth clean for talking to you this way.

"I could say the same thing about you, Micah.", you snap and he raises his eyebrows in amusement. As if you've just told him a joke.

Shut up. You stand no chance against this asshole and Williamson sure as shit won't help you.

Much to your disbelief, Micah just let's out a scoff and completely ignores your statement. He takes a few steps to the side and turns to both you and Bill.

"Dutch says we is to go on with plans and create a diversion.", he starts to explain. "We gotta get some explosives to blow up the bridge. Keep the army out of here for a few days."

This time you stay silent, biting down on your tongue to prevent a snappy comment from leaving your lips. As much as you would have loved to push all his buttons, you're still smarter than that.

"We gotta confuse 'em one last time. Then Dutch and I will head to Blackwater to get the money and help everyone leave. There is a stage full with explosives comin' from Annesburg and the two of you will rob it."

"You're not coming?", you ask, watching him with a puzzled expression.

A big part of you immediately relaxes, knowing you won't have to deal with his antics after this talk.

"I got my own plannin' to do. You two got this."

"Shit!", Bill exclaims, visibly unpleased with the situation. "I guess we have!"

With that he mounts his Ardennes and you quickly follow by hoisting yourself onto Penthesilea's back. Together you ride along the trail that leads back to the road and make your way to Van Horn. The silence between you is heavy and uncomfortable, but you're not particularly in the mood for conversing. Especially not with him.

On your way to the trading post, Bill abruptly stops and you almost crash into him. Before you can ask him what in the nine hells he's doing, you see the Pinkerton patroll further ahead. It doesn't consist of too many riders, but it would be unwise to let them spot you.

The moment the coast is clear you're on the move again. Once you arrive at Van Horn, you jump off the horses and get your weapons ready. The rifle feels heavy around your torso.

"They're gonna come from that way.", Bill says, pointing straight ahead and you nod. "So I was thinkin'. You go over there and play dead and then I'll take care of 'em."

At the last sentence, he brings the sniper rifle closer to his chest and the corners of your mouth point down in a frown. You're not too fond of the idea, that you're just going to lay there in the dirt. And at the front line nonetheless, but he is the better shooter.

After a while you let out a defeated sigh and wave your hand around in the air.

"Just don't miss, Williamson.", you mumble under your breath and get to position before he can answer.

Soon you can hear the rattle and clatter of wagon wheels and you tense up. Playing a distraction so close to the action isn't anything you particularly enjoy doing. Sure, fooling some drunk guys to gain intel or to pickpocket is fine, but throwing yourself infront of several armed men is an entirely different thing by itself.

The sound of your blood rushing in your ears drowns out the noises of the approaching dynamite coach and you would have almost missed your cue. With one deep breath, you force your legs to carry you out from your hiding spot and you stumble onto the street.

As expected, the group stops the moment you appear and, in the corner of your eyes, you see one of the men ready his gun. You pay him no mind as you put on your best act, producing strange gurgling noises, that kind of hurt your throat. The next second you let yourself fall and try not to cringe at the thought of all the nasty stuff that you're getting into your hair right now.

Confusion and bewilderment settles in and a guard gets off his horse to check on you. His heavy boots stomp and thump, as he approaches you and you practically feel him bend over to get a better look at you.

"What in the-", he starts, but doesn't get to finish his sentence.

A loud bang cuts through the air, followed by something wet and warm hitting your face and you quickly scramble back to your feet. Men are shouting and cursing and bullets fly over your head. You duck away and slide behind a wooden crate, holding your rifle firmly in both hands.

Every now and then you peak from behind your cover and fire a couple shots at the guards. Some of them land, some of them don't. Splinters and rubble whizzes through the air and you make yourself as small as humanly possible to avoid getting hit.

After what feels like an eternity, the shooting dies down and you stand up with wobbly knees. Even with all the blood tainting your hands, you still could shit your pants everytime you find yourself in a conflict like this.

There's no time to calm your trembling hands and you dash for the wagon, climbing into the front seat. Bill is next to you shortly after, taking the reigns and signaling the horses to get you the hell out of here.

"Nice shooting back there.", you manage to breathe out through panting and gasping and the ghost of a proud smile graces his lips.

"Nice drunk playin'.", he says in return and you lean back, allowing yourself to catch your breath for a second.

Though the peace doesn't last long. The heavy galloping of hooves can be heard coming from behind you and you hiss a curse.

"Take care of 'em!", Bill yells. "Don't let them hit the explosives!"

You haven't even thought of that. If you fail, then you either end up yet again with a bullet inside you or your body parts scattered all over the place. With weapon in hand, you twist your body and aim.

This time you don't have Bill backing you up, so you gather all your focus into steadying your grip. A long, slow breath leaves your lungs and you pull the trigger.

Calm now.

The bullet shoots right through a skull and your muscles want to flinch, want to act on the remorse spreading in your chest. But you push the feeling aside and point the barrel at your next target. You will mourn them when you make it back to camp.

"I thought there was no law in Van Horn!", Bill comments, ripping you out of your thoughts. You silently agree with him, but it doesn't really matter what you or he thought.

He follows the road at an ungodly speed. There are moments when he hits a particularly big bump and almost sends you flying out of the front seat. A startled yelp escapes your throat, but you catch yourself and hold onto the back rest with one hand.

"Watch how you drive!", you hiss through gritted teeth and he answers with an irritated groan.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Want me to slow down, so they can catch up to us?"

He's right of course, but you're not too keen on having him catapult you onto the gravel. More lawmen show up closely behind you and in the corner of your vision, you see another group ride through the forest and towards you.

Quickly you re-load your rifle and raise it. Even as they shoot right at you, only missing you by so much, you do your best not to falter. While everything within you screams at you to take cover, you force yourself to stay in position.

Damn it all. Micah must have known, that this place is crawling with law.

A cold shiver runs down your spine when you think about the possibility of this job being a set-up for you. These explosives are extremely valuable and vital for Dutch's plan and it simply doesn't make any sense to have someone like you steal it.

It would have been way smarter to send someone like Arthur or Charles out for this. Hell, even Sean is a better candidate with your injury still taking a toll on you. After this is done you should probably talk to Arthur. Maybe this time he won't tell you to run away alone, but actually pack his bags and leave with you.

Once the last man has fallen, you allow yourself to take a breather and sit back down. Most of the adrenaline is still coursing through your veins, making the rifle rattle in your shaking hands.

"Think that was all of them.", you inform Bill and he let's out a pleased hum.

"Good. You're a better shot than I thought."

Reluctantly, you mumble a 'thank you'. Your skill with the gun is nothing to celebrate, considering the reason why you've gotten so much better at it. Most of your abilities you have gained on the field instead of your makeshift practice grounds.

Further ahead, you spot a person standing in the middle of the road and you pull your weapon closer to your chest. You squint your eyes to get a better view and realize with much disappointment that it's Micah waiting for you up ahead.

"You got it?", he asks, as if he can't see the damned wagon under your asses..

"We got it.", Bill answers before you can, which is probably for the better. There was another snappy remark on the tip of your tongue.

As you climb off the seat, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you and you turn around to face John. You haven't even noticed his presence at all. Micah barks orders at him, telling him to get the explosives to Bacchus Bridge. The man's face drops and turns into a grim mask, reflecting the way you feel about the whole situation.

"He really does think he's in charge.", John mumbles in your direction, as he passes by you and you just grunt in agreement.

Bill rides off on Brown Jack and John takes the wagon up the mountain. You want to leave as well, walking up to Penthesilea to climb up onto the saddle, but something or rather someone stops you.

"You did a good job, darlin'.", Micah drawls and gives your shoulder a friendly pat.

Every fiber in your body wants to flinch away, but you force yourself to stay put. The words are meant as praise, but it sounds anything like that, coming from his mouth. When you don't answer he hooks his thumbs into his belt and locks eyes with you. His gaze is piercing, staring right through you.

"Just keep doin' what you're doin', provin' yourself and we'll get along just fine. I know we got off the wrong foot, but you're a fine gun." Not a single muscle in your face moves as he speaks, but you place your hand on your own belt as well now, keeping it close to your pistol. "I reckon we'd make a pretty decent pair, you and I."

At that you scoff, not breaking eye contact with him. "I already make a good pair with Arthur."

"Ah, Morgan's gone soft. I bet he doesn't even know what to do with a woman like you."

With these words, you decide to not entertain this conversation any further and mount your horse. "See you at camp, Micah."

Like the wind, you ride off and leave him standing alone on the road. Micah's words cling to your skin like a disgusting layer and you can still feel his hand on your shoulder. That man is out of his damned mind if he genuinely believes that you'd ride with him.

What was that all about anyways? First he calls you a whore and then shoots his shot with you? A shiver runs down your spine and your stomach turns upside down at the thought of having caught Micah Bell's interest.

You ride straight back to camp, already yearning for Pearson's hot stew and Arthur's tent. Maybe you will even find the outlaw there and you get to wind down in his arms. As you leave Penthesilea at the hitching posts, you spot two familiar figures up on the hill. Sadie and Arthur are overseeing the camp and you hear the faint noise of a conversation.

They're talking in hushed voices, not wanting for the wrong ears to listen in on them. Huffing and puffing, you let your heavy legs carry you up the hill. Every muscle in your body protests and aches, exhausted from today's action.

"We're more ghosts than people.", you hear Arthur say and stop in your tracks.

The talk they're having seems serious, private and the last thing you should be doing right now, is eavesdropping. But your feet stay planted on the ground, completely unmoving.

"When it goes to shit, then I want you to take John, Abigail and Jack and get 'em to safety.", he continues. "They're a family. They shouldn't be gettin' caught up in this mess."

Sadie looks up at him and speaks your name quietly.

"You take her with you." His answer comes shooting out like a bullet.

"I don't think she'll let me do that so easily.", the woman exclaims with a shake of her head and crosses her arms infront of her. "She'd rather raise hell than have you risk your head for her."

"I know", he grumbles, a hint of softness lacing his voice. "Do whatever you have to to get her away. Tie her up or somethin'. Last thing I want is for her to get hurt just because Dutch is on some...God trip or whatever. She's a good woman."

Sadie hums in agreement. "She'll be pissed at you though."

"I know."

"Do you plan on tellin' her? That you won't leave with her?"

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you hold your breath, fearing it might give your presence away to them.

"Don't think so, no." Sadie shakes her head disapprovingly and stares at him, but Arthur's gaze is set straight. "I'm tryin' for her. Tryin' to be a better man, a man she deserves, but I don't think I know how to anymore."

Your throat dries up instantly and you bite back a gasp, your knees trembling.

"She became a worse woman for you, you know? Killin' and robbin' folk.", Sadie comments and he runs a hand over his face with a groan.

"I know, I know. I...that's why I want a good life for her. Honest. Safe. Promise me you'll help her get that." His voice is at a breaking point.

"Of course! You ain't the only one who cares for her, you know? She's been kind to me. Real kind. Got me out of a tough spot." There's a pause, before she quietly adds. "I'd go through hell for and with her, if I must."

That's enough. If you hear another word you're afraid, that you might blow up. Quietly you make your way off the hill and walk over past the others, heading straight for the tent you share with Arthur. Inside it, you feel like screaming.

Everywhere you look, you see him and it feels like a thousand blades pierce your heart. How are you supposed to feel now? What are you supposed to do with this information? Part of you wants to confront him, yell at him and another part wants to slide down to the ground and sob pathetically.

Everything spins when you recall Sadie's words.

'She became a worse woman for you.'

And for what? There was a purpose once. Saving him from an early death, but if he's going to play the martyr, then everything would be for nothing. As you take a deep breath, you collect your thoughts and plan out your next steps.

Sadie will try to take you away, even if she has to drag you across the dirt. But you won't let her. You will kick and scream and give her hell if you have to.

The sound of heavy footsteps rip you out of your thoughts, immediately recognizing them. Even blindfolded and in a crowd of people, you'd be able to hear him. Arthur places a warm hand on your lower back, his thumb rubbing circles over that spot. It's hard to stay upset at him, when the sight of him alone brings you peace.

"How'd it go?", he asks, voice rough and low. His beard is scratching and tickling your ear and you feel his broad chest brush your shoulder.

"Fine.", you manage to bring out, sounding anything but fine.

"Sure?" Gently, he grabs you by your arms and turns you around to face him. "Did somethin' happen? Was it Micah?"

At the last part, his expression darkens and his eyes scan the camp, ready to throw a punch or two in your name. Obviously it isn't Micah (or at least he's not the main reason for your mood), but you can't bring yourself to tell him how you overheard his conversation with Sadie.

You're angry. Furious even over the fact, that he'd so easily lie to you, but there's another emotion mixed into it. You love him. Too much to hold a grudge against him, even though he deserves it after feeding you lies and filling your mind with fantasies about a normal life together.

"He wasn't with us when we robbed the wagon. It just...it got a bit heated. The law was there, but we got out.", you explain and hope, that he buys it.

His calloused hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch, your eyes fluttering shut. All the tension of today melts away with just the feeling of his skin on yours and you could have let out a content sigh.

"Course you got out. You is tough." Arthur presses a soft kiss on your forehead. "Williamson was damn lucky to have you there."

That gets a chuckle out of you and you playfully slap his chest.

"You overestimate me, Mr. Morgan."

"I ain't doin' no such thing, ma'am."

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug, letting his hands glide over your back. The motion sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"I was thinking. When we make it out of here we could maybe buy a stable. Take care of horses.", you start and wait impatiently for his reaction.

For the longest time he doesn't utter a single word.

"I like the sound of that.", he then finally says and you shut your eyes tight.

Liar.

Chapter Text

As your eyes flutter open and you stretch your muscles with a sigh, you notice that the spot next to you is empty. Arthur is standing by a crate, polishing some of his guns. By the looks of it, it seems like he's going to ride out soon.

"Where are you going?", you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

His rough features soften, as his eyes land on your tired form. "This Caprain Monroe needs my help. The army, they...they're doin' some nasty things over there."

"And you're going to run in all Dutch style and shoot up the place or why are you bringing a whole arsenal with you?", you ask and climb out of bed to watch his work more closely.

"I ain't shootin' nobody. The chief insists, that I don't use violence.", he explains with a huff and a shake of his head. "I'm preparin' just in case."

"Sounds like you need someone with some finesse." Your eyes scan the camp. "You could ask for Trelawny's help."

"Trelawny left." Arthur's answer comes out short and curtly and you lower your gaze.

It's understandable that he'd leave, but it's a shame. You were quite fond of him. That's when you start to get ready, putting on a pair of clean clothes and throwing on your weapon belt. As you change, Arthur gives you a puzzled look.

"I'm coming with you.", you answer his silent question and he immediately shakes his head.

"I don't want you gettin' caught up with the army."

"I don't care what you want." The words come out harsher than you have intended and you avoid the outlaw's gaze.

The conversation between him and Sadie is laying heavy on your chest and you can't stop your mind from wandering to it at every wake moment. After a while, you finally face Arthur, who looks like you just spat in his face with your small outburst.

"You okay?", he asks, worry lacing his voice. There's a hint of something else beneath it all. Something close to fear.

"I'm fine.", you bring out with a rather strained tone and pinch the bridge of your nose. You quickly come up with a lie. "I don't want to stay here without you. What if Micah sends me on another one of his stupid jobs?"

Understanding spreads in his eyes and he nods. It's insane how easily he believes you and you feel your chest tighten with guilt, but it quickly fades away.

"Alright. Fine." Then he points his finger at you. "But you follow my lead on this, ya hear me? Don't want you runnin' into shit head first."

"I always listen to you, Arthur.", you protest and he raises his eyebrows in disbelief.

"I can count on one hand the times you've listened to me."

"And when you don't listen, huh? Then it's one of 'em things.", you drawl, dropping your voice low to imitate him and he scoffs in both amusement and offense.

After your little 'argument' you make your way to the hitching posts and mount your horses. Arthur leads the way since you have never been to the reservation. It's a nice day with the sky being clear and a comfortable, warm breeze flowing through the air.

"I paid Mrs. Downes a visit.", Arthur starts, breaking the silence and you speed up to ride alongside him.

"How did it go?"

"They're out now. Gave 'em some money."

A sigh of relief slips past your lips and you smile softly at him.

"Thank you. It was the right thing."

He grumbles something under his breath and nods along with your words.

"I saw Mary-Beth pack her bag last night.", you then add, as you replay the memory in your head. "Do you think she will run away with Kieran? They seem sweet on one another."

Arthur hums curtly in agreement. "If they know what's good for 'em."

You turn your head to look at him, but it seems as if he's trying to avoid you. Then you move to watch the road infront of you, falling back a little again. The rest of the ride goes by in silence with your mind racing with all sort of thoughts.

None of them are being voiced and you soon arrive at the reservation. In the distance you see a man, wearing a blue army uniform, rush from person to person and tending to them. That must be this Captain Monroe, that Arthur has mentioned. Together you walk up to him and the outlaw clears his throat to get the man's attention.

His eyes light up in recognition when they land on him, but he pulls his eyebrows together in confusion once he meets your gaze. Though there's still a polite and friendly smile on his lips, as he firmly shakes your hand and introduces himself.

"She's here to help.", Arthur explains and Monroe only nods without a comment.

"Chief's gone out to try and find medication. It's quite a business.", he says, handing a bowl to one of the women.

Arthur spins slowly to take in the sight, a frown on his rough features. "I thought we were through with this?"

"Colonel Favors seems to think, that the natives have broken a promise they never made and apparently he's punishing them by withholding vaccines sent down by the Federal Government."

"Really?", you gasp in utter disbelief and disgust.

"I was supposed to oversee the administration of vaccines. Now I hear the wagon's been diverted.", Monroe explains and Arthur shakes his head. His face is a mirror of you emotions.

"Why would he do such a thing?", he asks outraged.

"To be honest, I truly don't know." Monroe pauses and scratches the back of his neck. "They say he didn't have a very good war, so maybe he's trying to start another one?"

Arthur and you exchange worried glances with each other.

"Is that what you think?"

"I'm trying to find out and he knows, that I'm trying to find out." The Captain let's out a bitter scoff. "He'd love to provoke me almost as much as he'd love to provoke these poor bastards."

Arthur and him talk some more, but you're not even listening with one ear anymore. You're standing next to the fireplace and take in everything. Then an idea pops into your head and you step between the two men.

"Where is this wagon? Where can we find it?", you ask in a rather demanding tone and Monroe's eyes widen in surprise.

The look Arthur shoots you tell you enough to know, that he's aware of what your plan is now. He gives you a faint nod, signaling that you have his full support.

"It's supposed to be headin' to Wapiti after passin' through Valentine.", Monroe starts. "But it's been diverted south instead."

"Come on, Captain." As you speak these words, you catch a glimpse of adoration on Arthur's face, but there is no time to react to it.

You rush to the horses, the two men following closely behind you.

"We must act with due caution!", the Captain calls out after you and you mount your horse.

"And we shall. We surely shall.", Arthur chimes in.

Captain Monroe tells you, that he might know of a place where you can intercept the wagon and you let him take the lead. Your trio rides fast, hurrying to catch up to the wagon. The two men continue talking to each other while you hold onto the reigns so tightly, that the whites of your knuckles are showing.

'She became a worse woman for you.'

Now it's finally time to put all these nasty skills you have learned during your time here to some good. Enough robbing, killing and exploiting good folks. It's slowly coming to an end and you sense, that you have to choose between blind loyalty and what's right. Only, that your decision is slightly different from the others in the gang.

They will have to choose between Dutch or their soul. You on the other hand will have to decide if you're going to follow Arthur down this dark path or be smart and run. Someone calls your name, ultimately ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Please be discreet! If anything happens to the soldiers on that wagon, then Colonel Favors will find a way to blame the natives for this.", Monroe yells over his shoulder, loud enough for you to hear over the sound of hooves.

He leads you up a hill and you all dismount. You crouch down at the edge of the cliff and Arthur takes out his binoculars.

"Why don't you go up to Washington and tell 'em what kind of a fool Colonel Favors is?", the outlaw suggests.

"The government doesn't quite work like that.", the Captain responds with a not so surprising answer. "Are you sure about this though? I fear this is a fool's errand."

"You can trust us, Captain.", you speak up and meet his gaze with strong resolve. "They won't even know we robbed them."

"Just make sure, that it stays clean.", he repeats in a pleading tone. "I will wait for you in the reservation."

As Monroe rides off, Arthur hands the binoculars over to you and you observe the wagon that's slowly approaching in the distance. There are only two people sitting at the front and there are no guards hiding further ahead or in the trees. Of course not. Who would be dumb enough to take on the army?

"So how'd you wanna do this?", Arthur asks and you stare at him in bewilderment.

"You're asking me?"

"Course. You just robbed a heavily guarded coach with an idiot like Bill Williamson on your side." He scoffs in amusement. "I trust your judgement."

Speechless, you nod to yourself and give back the binoculars. It doesn't take long to come up with a plan. It's nothing special, but so far it has worked everytime for you.

"I go play the damsel in distress and you sneak onto the back and steal the vaccines.", you explain plainly and stand up.

"I could also be the one to distract 'em.", he offers, but you immediately wave it off.

"No, they'll be less suspicious of me."

With that you jump onto horseback and you two make it separately off the hills towards the road. As you approach the wagon, you make sure to hide your pistol under your coat and force a wide smile onto your lips.

"Howdy, boys!", you call out and match their speed. They both throw you looks, that hold a mix of confusion and slight interest. "Oh! I see, you two are soldiers! I reckon my luck has finally turned 'round."

The facade you put on lights up in delight, as you closely examine their uniforms. One of the men clears his throat, his eyes flickering all over the place.

"Can we help ya, ma'am?", he asks and you immediately search around in your satchel to fish out a small map.

"I'm afraid I've gotten quite lost. You see, I'm not from around these parts and was wonderin' if you could point out where Valentine is?" You speak with a sweet voice and a thick accent, holding up the map for them to see. "You boys have kind faces. Surely, you could help out a lady in need?"

In the corner of your eyes, you see Arthur in the distance, but avoid looking in that direction. For a moment you fear, that they won't bite the bait, but then the driver stops the wagon. The man closest to you, scooches to the side to make room for you and you quickly jump onto the seat.

"I'm from far down south and it's my first time travelin' alone.", you explain to them, unfolding the paper in your hands. "You see, my mamma always said, that I can't make it all by myself and I left to prove her wrong. Maybe she was right though, but I ain't givin' up so fast."

Even after they point out where the town is on the map, you don't seize your yapping and keep going. The sound of your voice is supposed to drown out whatever noises Arthur might be creating in the back. Everytime one of the soldier's eyes begin to wander around, you call directly out to him to grab his attention again.

Once the coast is clear you begin to climb off the wagon and mount Penthesilea.

"You were mighty helpful! I can't thank you enough!"

The soldiers exchange weird looks between each other, as if there's something they want to say to you.

"It's dangerous out here, Miss. We could escort you to Valentine.", one offers.

"Precisely!", the other chimes in. "We'd feel bad to leave a lady like you alone out here."

"Aw, you is too kind, boys!" You let out a soft giggle and pretend to be all bashful. "But I wouldn't wanna distract you from your duty. It looks mighty important to me."

With that, you blow them a kiss and ride off, making sure that you're going into the direction Valentine is located. Once you're out of sight, you cut into the woods and meet up with Arthur.

"You got the vaccines?", you ask and he raises a wooden box for you to see.

"Sure do." His lips curl up into a teasing smirk and he leans forward in his saddle. "That was some fantastic actin' out there. Really loved the accent. Suits ya."

"Oh, stop it." You ride past him in hopes, that he wouldn't tease you any further. "We should bring this to Captain Monroe."

"You lead the way, ma'am."

The horses carry you at top speed and you make it back to the reservation faster than when you had left it. There, Arthur hands over a few boxes to the Captain, who looks like a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

"And it didn't go too bad.", the outlaw assures him, as he gives him the last box.

"They didn't notice a thing.", you chime in with a smile.

"I hope Colonel Favors will think that it was bandits who robbed him and not..." Monroe trails off and his eyes flicker between you and Arthur. It looks like he's unsure about what to call you.

"We're still bandits.", Arthur protests. "There's no doubt 'bout that."

"Well, bandits or not. This was a good thing you did. Maybe it'll get us all killed, but it had to be done."

You nod and hum in agreement. After that, Monroe goes back to work, putting the vaccines to good use and you leave the reservation with Arthur by your side. Arriving back at camp, your mood drops as it usually has been doing lately.

The two men, that Micah has brought in, linger around the campfire and you hear the soft tunes of Javier's guitar. There was a time where you loved to sit with him and listen to his songs, but not anymore. Whenever you get to close, the music dies down and he glares daggers at you.

You didn't expect for the robbery to take this long, but it was mostly the way there and back, that took up most of the time. The sun is beginning to set and you run a hand over your face. That is when you spot two figures approaching Arthur and you. It's Charles and Rains Fall.

"Found a friend looking for you.", Charles calls out.

"Mr. Morgan. How are you?", Rains Fall asks and for a brief second his eyes flicker to you. But you might have just imagined it.

"A little better."

It seems like they're referencing a conversation they had before, but it's not your place to ask about details. Shortly after, the chief gets straight to the point and tells you about Colonel Favors wanting to meet Rains Fall to discuss some matters. It sounds suspicious to you, but the older man believes, that he might come to a peaceful solution this time.

"Since my men aren't allowed to carry weapons, I was wondering if you could come with me to this meeting."

"You want us to keep the peace?", Arthur asks and you rest your hand on your belt, as you continue to quietly listen.

"There will be a lot of dull talking and ceremony, but I feel with some non-tribe members present their chances of lying or worse will be reduced."

Arthur runs a hand over his beard, letting out some grumbling sounds. He seems reluctant to agree to help and you quickly clear your throat.

"I'll join you.", you declare and the outlaw shakes his head.

"No, you ain't. You've already messed enough with the army."

Your gaze goes to Charles in seek for his support, but he sighs. "Arthur's right. Besides, and I mean no offense, the Colonel doesn't seem like the type of man who would be easily intimidated by a woman."

Frustrated, you bite down on the inside of your cheek. He's right of course, but you want to help wherever you can. Then you turn to Arthur, your eyes holding a plea.

"Then you must go.", you say and he opens his mouth to most likely protest, but nothing comes out.

It's easier for him to say no to the other two men, but he doesn't have the same resistance when it comes to you. Defeated, he agrees to help and you give his hand a soft squeeze before he rides out of camp.

Now you're left standing on the edge, alone. As you observe your surroundings in an attempt to find something to keep yourself busy while you wait for them to return, you spot Kieran sitting further away by himself. It looks like something is troubling him and you make your way to where he's sitting.

"Hey.", you softly make your presence known, but he flinches anyways.

Ever since the abduction he's been more jumpy. Whenever you approach him, you try to keep in mind to do it on the side where his good eye is, so that he sees you in the corner of his vision.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.", you quickly apologize, but he smiles.

"It's okay."

You sit down across of him and lean forward, so that no one can overhear your words too easily. "Is everything alright?"

Kieran lowers his gaze and fidgets with his hands. For the longest time he doesn't utter a single word and you begin to think, that he won't open up to you.

"I just...", he then starts. "Do you think I should stay?"

The question catches you off-guard and you blink a couple times in silence. Then your gaze wanders over his shoulder to Mary-Beth. Her packed bag is hidden under a thick blanket close to her and she's reading.

"I think you should go with her, yes.", you answer and he nods to himself.

"I'm afraid, that Dutch might get mad. Everyone is so on edge and I feel like everything I do is being watched."

"I know that feeling." You pause to think. "I can get you on a train in Annesburg."

His eye goes wide and he stares at you dumbfounded. "What? You'd help?"

"Of course." With your chin, you motion behind him to Mary-Beth. "Talk to her and then come to me. I'll get you out of here tonight."

Before he stands up, your hand shoots forward and you hold his wrist in an iron grip. The look on your face is dead serious. "Make sure to be discreet."

Kieran mumbles a 'yes of course' and then rushes away. You stay seated and take out your pistol, taking your time to polish it. Maybe if you have your weapon out, then the others will leave you alone.

---

It's late, most of the gang members having gone to bed. Arthur and Charles still haven't returned and you're waiting next to Penthesilea. The sound of quiet footsteps can be heard coming from behind you and you turn around to meet Kieran and Mary-Beth.

Each of them has a bag over their shoulder and you nod. Before taking off, you look around to make sure, that no one is watching what you're doing. If the wrong person catches you, then you might meet a fate similar to Molly's.

No one talks, as you ride down the mountain and into the mining town. You leave the horses on the side of the road and enter the train station. Kieran moves to buy tickets, but you're faster than him and rush to the counter.

"You didn't have to pay. You're already doin' so much for us.", Mary-Beth complaints and you hand over the tickets.

"You need the money for your new start.", you insist and she watches you with wide eyes.

"And what about you?"

That is a question you can't answer so easily. Yes, and what about you exactly? Arthur and Sadie already made plans for you to start over, but you have other things in mind. Things, that might very well result in your end and then you won't need the money anymore.

"I'll be fine. Go now. You got a train to catch.", you say, your voice sounding awfully hollow in your ears.

Tears well up in your friend's eyes and she pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You didn't mean to make this such an emotional goodbye, but you feel a sudden wave of sadness wash over you.

"Please stay safe.", she whispers into your ear and you pull away, keeping your hands on her shoulders.

"You too."

Kieran places a hand on Mary-Beth's back and throws you one last look before they disappear behind the door. A strangled sob escapes your lips and you bring your fingers up to your wet cheeks.

You hadn't realized, that you started crying too.

Chapter Text

"Micah told me that you did a fine job robbin' those explosives with Bill.", you hear someone say to you and you turn around to face Dutch and Sadie.

It's odd to hear him talk to you again, let alone give you praise, but you mask your surprise. Instead you only nod your head in his direction, thanking him. For a brief second, your eyes flicker to the side in a silent question, but you can't read anything from her expression. Though you can tell, that she's serious.

"Mrs. Adler informed me that you'd like to see Colm O'Driscoll hang.", the man continues on and realization washes over you.

You recall the time she has dropped that information. It was right after Arthur scouted the Sisika Penitentiary and her and you being chased by what you can only describe as a small army of O'Driscolls. You also remember mentioning something about making sure that he swings.

"I do.", you answer, your resolve strong. You haven't forgotten the time his men abducted you. The memory still haunts you.

"Good." His eyes darken, as he nods, pleased by your words. "We was headin' to Saint Denis right about now. Arthur will meet us there later."

As you walk to the horses, someone else joins your small group. Hosea has a pained expression on his face and is shaking his head profusely.

"This is crazy, Dutch.", he exclaims, his voice laced with desperation. "We shouldn't be going for- for Colm O'Driscoll with all the fronts closing in on us right now. You always said that revenge is an idiot's game."

When Dutch doesn't answer, Hosea steps right infront of him and forces him to stop.

"You're not thinking this through.", he adds and Dutch's features contort. The crease between his eyebrows becomes deeper.

"I am thinking.", the leader snarls and balls his hands up into fists. "It was about time, that Colm hangs and you're either with me on this or against me, friend."

The silence between the two men is louder than any words ever could be and you fear for a second, that Hosea might push the matter further. But he only sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat and he steps aside. Immediately, Dutch continues walking without gracing the older man with a single glance.

Hosea places his hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around to face him. "You understand, that this is madness right?"

You feel Dutch's dark eyes bore into you and you close your own eyes shut. It's not that you don't share Hosea's standpoint on this. Arthur was also very much against intervening with Colm's business. He still is. Part of you agrees with them. The last thing you should be doing is meddle with things like this.

Though another part of you wants to make sure, that that bastard swings for his crimes. It's not only about you. That pig needs to pay for what he did to Sadie, Arthur and Kieran and a thousand other sins. Hosea's pleading face drops, as he recognizes the decision behind your eyes.

"We can't let him get away this time.", you answer and he pulls his hand away.

Seeing him like this, so disappointed in you, pierces your chest like a sharp blade and you force your legs to carry you to Dutch and Sadie. Your trio rides off to Saint Denis, which takes quite a long time. Much to your relief, the way there goes by rather peacefully.

There are a few small Pinkerton patrolls popping up here and there, but you manage to successfully avoid each and every one of them. You stop at Doyle's Tavern and enter to wait for Arthur.

"How's your injury?", Sadie asks you, as she orders a beer at the bar counter.

"Better. Barely feel it anymore.", you answer and it's true.

Unless you're doing hard manual labour, you rarely feel the pain. Dutch explains the plan to you in great detail, telling you about the disguises and how you need to locate Colm's men to stop them from intervening the execution.

Some time passes and you notice in the corner of your eyes how the entrance door is being opened. Arthur strolls in with his thumbs hooked into his belt and your mood immediately lightens up. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, as his eyes land on your form and his hand trails along your spine in a subtle way.

"Here you are!", Dutch exclaims and Arthur raises his eyebrows.

Meanwhile Sadie chugs the rest of her beer in one go and slams the bottom of the bottle down on the wood of the counter.

"Today is a great day.", the leader continues.

"That so?" Arthur's gaze flickers towards Sadie. "And why are you so riled up?"

"Today is Colm's hanging.", you inform him and his entire face lights up in understanding.

"That boy's been on the gallow more than most. I wouldn't count on anythin' until his neck's broke.", Arthur protests, while Dutch leads you all to the back of the saloon.

Dutch answers something, but you're already being pushed into an empty room with Sadie to slip into the disguises. It's strange seeing her in a dress again, especially with that ridiculous hat and that large feather attached to it.

"Looking mighty fine, Mrs. Adler.", you drawl in a teasing manner.

It's partly to make fun of her, but also an attempt to lift her spirits a little. She has been incredibly tense and blue all day. Not that you can blame her.

"Shut up.", she snarls with a scoff and a wave of her hand.

She helps you put on an equally dramatic dress. The skirt is heavy, almost pulling you down and it's a rich navy blue, a vast contrast to the yellow she's wearing. Once you're done and step outside, the two men change into uniforms, making them look like two ordinary police officers.

Or at least as ordinary as two mean outlaws can look. When you step outside into the back alley, you put on your hat. It's black and wide, feeling unusually heavy on your head, but at least it doesn't have a feather.

Your eyes trail over Arthur's figure, taking in the way the fabric stretches over his broad chest and shoulders. There is something within you, that stirs when you look at him like that. All dressed up in a uniform. It's definitely not a sight you'd complain about.

The four of you cut through alleyways with Dutch and Sadie infront of you and Arthur right behind you. You fight the urge to constantly look behind you to make sure he's still there. That and to prevent yourself from staring at him in that disguise of his.

"Mrs. Adler.", he starts, his voice raised, so that she hears him. "Might I say, bein' a fancy woman of Saint Denis really suits you."

A snicker escapes your lips at the comment and she throws you a quick warning glance over her shoulder.

"I'd dress up as the queen of Sheba if it meant seein' that son of a bitch swing.", she answers, which you can only nod in agreement to.

"Colm hung me up.", Arthur grumbles and your heart sinks at the memory of seeing him ride into camp all beaten and battered. "Nearly butchered me. That don't mean I'm comfortable in this woolen coat."

You turn your head to meet his gaze and your lips curl up into a pleased smile, as your eyes trail up and down his body.

"It still looks good on you, Mr. Morgan. I rather fancy you in a uniform."

Your bold compliment makes him avoid your piercing stare and he bashfully clears his throat, before mumbling a quiet 'thank you'.

"Now keep those fingers off those triggers, 'cause we'll need cool heads and calm dispositions to see this done.", Dutch shouts over to you and you bite back a scoff.

Arthur on the other hand doesn't even try to hide what he thinks of that statement. "Practice what you preach, brother."

Immediately, you tense up, already feeling the argument approach.

"Whatever do you mean?", Dutch barks, already semi riled up.

"Are you gonna keep your cool? Really?", Arthur asks, poking the bear some more with a stick. "When you seem to lose it oh so often now."

You shoot him a look that pretty much says 'don't do this right now', but it doesn't look like he will heed your advice anytime soon.

"This doubtin' and questionin' of yours...reminds me of Hosea nowadays. I miss the old Arthur.", the leader continues.

Of course Arthur has a snappy remark ready on the tip of his tongue. "Don't we all."

"You two, quit it!", Sadie snaps and you almost let out a relieved sigh at the fact, that at least one person here seems to actually keep a cool head. And that says a lot when it's Sadie.

With each step you take, you can hear the excited shouts from a crowd more and more. In the distance you spot a large group of people, all standing around the gallows, as if they're waiting for a show. That's probably even the case.

Colm O'Driscoll isn't there yet though and your small group halts at the entrance of the park. Dutch motions with his chin towards some guys, who are messing around with each other like they're friends.

"See those assholes?", he asks and you all nod. "Those are his boys."

A bitter huff leaves your throat and you shake your head. Of course there is a plan to get that nasty son of a bitch out again. As you observe the men closer, you notice that they're pointing at something and you follow the direction of their fingers.

"What are they pointing at?", you speak up and the others look for it as well.

"I don't know, but we'll find out.", Dutch answers and orders for you and Sadie to stay here, while signaling Arthur to follow him.

Arthur's gaze flickers between you and the other woman. "Don't do nothin'."

After they've left, you place your hands on your hips and study Sadie's expression. It's a strained mask, filled with pure hatred. There's a wild fire burning behind her eyes and it looks like she's ready to blow up the entire place.

"How are you holding up?", you ask, knowing exactly how silly that question is.

"Doin' just fine.", she answers curtly and through gritted teeth.

"What will you do after he swings?"

There is a slight pause, before she answers. "Hunt down and kill the rest of 'em."

"Sounds like a solid plan."

You study her face, recalling her conversation with Arthur in camp yet again. It's not really recalling it when the memory constantly plays in your mind already.

"I helped Mary-Beth and Kieran get out of here.", you quietly confess and her eyes widen in both disbelief and shock.

"That was your doin'? Shit.", she drawls and shakes her head in bewilderment. "I saw, that they were missin', but...damn. when did ya even do that?"

"While everyone was asleep. I took them to the train station and bought them tickets."

Stunned silence hangs in the air and you feel her eyes bore into you. "How 'bout you?"

"What about me?", you ask and give her a puzzled look.

"You should be leavin' too. Get to safety. Live a good life."

"I'm not leaving Arthur." Your words come shooting out like a bullet and for the longest time, the two of you simply stare at each other.

For a moment there, it looks like she wants to tell you something, but then a bell is being rung. The crowd's mumbling dies down, as a man begins to hold a speech about justice and savages. Shortly after, Dutch joins the two of you and leisurely leans against the brick wall near you.

You look back up at the building, the O'Driscoll boys had pointed at and see Arthur standing at the edge of the rooftop. It looks like he's holding a gun and realization washes over you. Colm had planned to station a sniper up there, it seems.

Then they bring the man himself out, your breath hitches in your throat at the sight. Mocking laughter can be heard from him.

"As well you may. I've been a bad man.", he says, before being silenced by a rope around his mouth.

Right after that you, Sadie and Dutch move towards the O'Driscoll boys in the crowd. In one swift, yet subtle motion, your volcanic pistol is in your hand and you press it's barrel into one of the men's neck, while holding him in place with your free hand. A short glance to the side tells you, that your companions have the other two guys in check as well.

Colm's relaxed demeanor quickly shifts once his eyes land on your group, holding his men at gunpoint. Then his eyes frantically jump from one spot to another and you can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes, that he has lost. Even from the distance you can clearly see the panicked breathing and fidgeting.

Mental images of your abduction pass before your inner eye at this spectacle. The feeling of fear you have felt during that time is still very much prominent within you.

"Colm O'Driscoll!", the man, who has been talking the entire time shouts. "May God in his infinite wisdom have mercy upon your soul!"

Next thing you know, the lever is being pulled and a sickening crack cuts through the air. Your eyes stay glued to the gang leader, as he dangles on the rope, his legs kicking one last time before his body goes limp.

A breath of relief escapes your lips and you relax your muscles. Though the moment doesn't last long, because you hear Sadie mumble something next to you. As if something beyond your comprehension had alarmed you, you open your mouth to tell her to stop whatever she's planning on doing.

But you don't get to do that.

"You ruined my life!", she roars and slits the man's throat.

With a gurgling noise emanating from his throat, he slides down to the ground with a thud and all hell breaks loose. After that she shoots the men, you and Dutch are holding, clean in the head and you grab her arm to pull her away. More O'Driscoll boys show up out of nowhere and you drag her behind cover.

Bullets and small rubble whizz past you and you throw your friend a furious look. You want to yell at her, tell her how much of a fool she is, but something holds you back. The fire in her eyes that has been burning all day, isn't just from hatred. There's a deep sadness in it as well. Sorrow.

You focus on shooting and staying alive in this chaos. Arthur is covering your backs from the rooftops, killing everyone who gets near the three of you. But there is one O'Driscoll, who is too close for your liking and you raise your pistol at him.

Without hesitation, you pull the trigger and the gun clicks. Nothing happens. You're out of ammunition. Then, without giving it a second thought, you take Sadie's knife out of her hand and blindly charge at the man. The sharp blade cuts into his throat, tearing into skin and flesh.

You feel the motion, the resistance echo deep within your bones and your entire stomach turns upside down. It's like your very first kill all over again. Of course you always feel strong remorse and shame whenever you take a life, but it has been a while since you reacted this harshly to it.

Maybe it's because of how personal it is. This time you didn't pull a trigger, but raised a blade, casting judgment without any authority to do so. You buried it into this person with your bare hands. Someone pulls at the sleeve of your dress and you let them drag you away from the body. Your eyes are fixed on the pool of blood, that is slowly growing underneath the O'Driscoll member.

Dutch, Sadie and you climb onto a wagon and ride off into safety. Throughout the ride, you just sit in the back with your knees pulled close to you. You grab a fistful of the fabric of your dress to keep your trembling hands still.

---

Back in camp, you're sitting in the tent, that you and Arthur share and take a long sip from the whisky bottle in your hands. The dress you wore at the execution is long gone and replaced by your usual attire. When you took it off, you just stared at it for a long time, wanting to throw it into the fire.

Your throat burns, as the liquor slides down your walls and the alcohol begins to numb your brain. A familiar warmth spreads in your chest and you stare at your hands. After you have returned from the 'job', you went straight to a water barrel and scrubbed your hands clean until the skin on them started to burn. The blood is long gone of course, but you still feel it. Hot and sticky.

A shadow falls over you, but you don't have to look up to know who it is. With a low grunt, Arthur lowers himself onto the edge of the bed next to you and gently takes the bottle out of your hand. He doesn't say anything. Maybe, because there isn't a single word that could lift the pain and the weight from your shoulders or maybe, because he has no idea what to say.

"I stabbed a man today.", you whisper, breaking the silence. "Felt weird."

Weird. What an odd way to describe it. An awful way to describe it. It had felt dirty and wrong to stab that poor bastard. O'Driscoll or not. With a choked back sob, you bury your face in your hands and Arthur quickly wraps his strong arms around you.

He hums in an attempt to calm you down. The vibrations of his chest do feel nice though and you feel yourself relax under his touch.

"'S okay, sweetheart.", he softly murmurs and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I'm so sick and tired of it all." Your words come out muffled against his button up shirt.

"I know."

"I want to go home."

Home.

That is something you haven't thought about in a very long time. At some point during your journey in the past, you started seeing the gang as your home, but now it's all falling apart and you begin to miss your old life. The life you lived, that didn't have you constantly scared that you might die any second.

The life, that didn't include you being unable to move around without being armed to the teeth. The life, that didn't require you to dip your hands in hell to survive and see another sunrise. But the worst thing about it all...you'd do it all over again.

Arthur lifts your chin with his hand and you stare up at him. Hot tears well up in your eyes and he looks at you with an expression that seems to burst any second with all the emotions it's holding. Everything you know is in there, from adoration to sorrow.

"I'm sorry.", he mumbles, his voice almost breaking. "You shouldn't have to go through this."

Your eyes flutter shut, as he presses a kiss against your lips. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck and grab a fistful of his hair. His large hands snake up and down your sides, his fingers leaving a hot trail on your skin, even though there is a layer of fabric in between.

His lips alone are enough to make you lose yourself entirely in him and he pulls you closer, until you're pressed flushed against his chest. A low groan leaves his lips and you whisper his name like a prayer. With much effort you manage break away from his intoxicating lips and lean your forehead against his.

"Don't leave me, Arthur. Please.", you beg, desperation lacing your voice.

Don't send me away, so you can die for everyone here.

"I won't, sweetheart.", he answers through panting.

Next thing you know, he has you in his grasp once again. His hot kisses make you more drunk, than any liquor ever could and you let out a long and dreamy sigh against his mouth. A low rumble leaves his throat and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. It sends a pleasant pain through your body.

"Promise me.", you breathe out.

And there it is. That moment of hesitation, that you have dreaded. A deep pit forms in your stomach.

"Promise me.", you repeat, but this time with more urgency in your voice.

Pain flashes over his face and you wipe away your tears, as you abruptly stand up.

"I thought we were past this."

"It ain't that simple.", he argues, but it's weak even in his ears.

You run a hand over your face and let out a humorless laugh.

"You're a cruel man, Arthur Morgan."

With these words you leave the tent and him inside it.

Chapter Text

You sit in the grass, fidgeting with a daisy you have picked up and watch Sadie chuck knives at a tree. Each throw is more aggressive than the last, as if she's wanting to blow off steam. It makes sense. Ever since Colm's hanging she looks to be plagued by something from deep within.

You too have been restless, but for different reasons. The small argument with Arthur has left you with a heavy sensation in your gut, like you've swallowed a rock. Closing your eyes and wind down also isn't an option. Everytime darkness engulfs you, you see the O'Driscoll with a knife stuck in his throat.

The memory makes you sick to your stomach and you have to fight the urge to empty out it's contents. Sadie pulls the blades out of the wood and turns to you. Her gaze is lowered, as she tugs the weapons away and you can tell, that she has something on her heart.

"I need someone to ride with me.", she says and finally locks eyes with you.

"Yeah? To do what?", you ask, aware of how ridiculous sounds. It's obvious what she wants to do.

"To finish off them O'Driscolls.", she drawls and crosses her arms. "I hear the last of 'em is holed up at Hanging Dog Ranch."

With a grunt you stand up from the ground and dust off your clothes that have gotten dirty. You're unsure if you have it in you anymore to kill more folks, to ride into the fight once again.

"I don't know if I can, Sadie. I-", your voice cracks and you run a hand over your face.

Mental images of Colm's body hanging off the gallows and a pool of blood forming under one of his men, flood your mind. Quickly you remove your trembling fingers from your face and take in your surrounding to bring you back to reality.

Sadie has taken a few step away from you and puts her hands on her hips.

"Look.", she starts and stares right through you. "You're one of the only people I can trust. I've gotta do this."

With heavy footsteps you walk up to her and hold her by her shoulders. How can you turn your back on her now? Granted, her and Arthur agreed to decide your fate for you without your knowledge and you're still incredibly furious at the both of them.

But deep down you know, that you simply can't let your friend go alone. As she said, she'd go through hell for and with you and it's safe to say, that you would do the same for her. A storm rages inside you, as you slowly come to a decision.

"When are we leaving?"

Immediately, her strained features relax. "I was thinkin' right now."

"Let's go then."

You could use some time away from camp, away from everyone. Clear your head a bit.

---

You're standing at a meadow, the horizon in the distance as clear as day. There was no sun in sight for some reason, but everything was drowned in an orange hue of dusk. The fresh smell of flowers hangs in the air and you fill your lungs with it.

A warm breeze brushes your cheeks like the fingers of a lover would and your eyes flutter shut momentarily. Then the sound of flapping wings snaps you out of it and you search for the source.

Over there in the tree you spot an owl sitting on a branch, watching you with a knowing gaze. It's eyes follow your every movement, as your legs carry you towards it. There is a certain familiarity in them like you're looking into a mirror.

Next thing you know, the scene changes drastically. It feels like someone is ripping the ground from under your feet, but you manage to catch yourself before you could fall. As the world around you seizes to spin, you take it all in.

It's still the same meadow, but also not. The smell of flowers is gone, replaced by an iron scent mixed with a hint of decay. The comfortable breeze now cuts into your clothes and you shiver uncontrollably.

The tree the owl was resting on has been cut down and left to rot in the dirt. Beside it stands a fox, crouched down in a low position and with matted fur. It's eyes are widened alarmingly and your gaze falls on the thing in their mouth. There hangs the owl, feathers ripped out and neck twisted.

---

Something pulls you out of your deep slumber and you shoot up with a gasp. Sweat sticks like a layer to the skin of your forehead and you brush away a few hair strands, that are hanging in your face. For a moment there you don't recognize your surroundings, but then you spot Sadie standing not too far away and relax.

It was a dream.

"Hey.", she greets you and motions with her chin to the side. "There's a bunch of 'em down there. Mostly drunk."

"Great.", you mumble, followed by a huge yawn and you stretch your stiff limbs. "Shouldn't be too difficult then."

"One of them is a fat feller with a beard. He's mine." There is something about her tone, that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Sure."

With a groan you stand up and check your weapons. The pistol is securely tugged into your holster and the rifle is hanging over your shoulder. Without another word, Sadie begins to lead the way to the ranch and you silently follow her. The crunching of leaves and sticks under your boots is the only noise.

As you stroll over to the ranch, you decide to break the heavy silence. "So what's the plan?"

"You'll see.", she answers curtly and without even looking at you.

Worry washes over you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, as you watch her simply walk up to the two men at the entrance. Unsure of what exactly is going on, you follow her and open your mouth to speak. That is when she pulls something out of her satchel, something you don't quite recognize at first.

It's a bottle, but what's a bottle supposed to accomplish? Then you notice the cloth hanging out of the opening and realization hits you like a freight train.

"Sadie-"

Before you can continue what you started, the cloth is on fire and she throws it at the men. Only a heartbeat later that entire spot is engulfed by flames and your mouth is left hanging open in utter shock and disbelief. Though there is no time to linger or hesitate, as bullets already begin to fly around you.

Quickly you take cover behind the nearest rock and you throw your friend an angry glance.

"What the fuck? I would have appreciate a small heads up at least!", you snap at her, but she is in her own world.

She throws another bottle at the nearby house and the wood easily catches on fire. Shouts and screams can be heard coming from the inside and you wonder just how many of those she has at the ready.

"Cover me!", she shouts and before you can even process her words, she's already dashing for a small shed.

A variety of curses and profanities leave your lips, but you do as you're told and cover her. With your head and upper body now peaking out from behind the rock, you fire several shots at the O'Driscolls. Not all of them hit their mark, but more than you would have expected.

Once the coast is clear you make a run for another rock further ahead and slide over the dirt and dust. Not a moment too soon, because a bullet hits the spot you were only a second ago.

"There's a sharpshooter at the barn!", you warn your friend and she readies her gun to take him out.

Much to your surprise and disbelief, you make quick work of the O'Driscoll boys. The shooting comes to a halt and you take a deep breath, as you relax. With your back leaned against the cool and rough surface of the rock, you slide down to sit on the ground.

"You take the barn and I'll take the farm home.", Sadie tells you. "And remember! If he's fat and he's got a beard, he's mine!"

"Sure thing."

With your rifle close to your chest, you make yourself as small as possible and sneak up to the side of the barn. As you press yourself close to the wooden wall and wait at a window, you hold your breath to listen closely.

Muffled voices can be heard from inside and you focus on the footsteps to pinpoint the men's locations. There is one to the right and one to the left. If you're not mistaken, then it seems like there is a third feller up in the attic.

Once your heartbeat is calm again, you lean to the side and fire two shots. Both of them hit their mark, right through their skulls. This is the most accurate you have ever been and you flinch at how much of a skillful killer you have become.

Right after that, you climb on top of a barrel and hoist yourself onto the roof with a grunt. Silently, you sneak up to the window and wait a couple seconds. You can't hear the third guy and you enter the barn. One step is the most you can do before something hard and solid makes contact with the side of your head.

The rifle falls out of your hands and you hold the hurting spot with a groan. Hot, searing pain pulsates in your skull and you can't stop seeing double.

"Fucking fuck!", you hiss through gritted teeth, but you're not given the chance to compose yourself.

A figure appears infront of you, swinging something long at you again and you stumble backwards to avoid it. With your balance still being shit, you trip over a nail and land harshly on your back, your arms flailing helplessly around.

As you collide with the floor, you bite on your tongue and the taste of iron floods your mouth. Another curse leaves you and the figure is right over you. A barrel is pointing at the spot between your eyes and you knock it to the side. The same moment, a shot falls and the bullet lands next to your ear into the wooden floor.

With the world still spinning, you pull out your gun and aim at the figure. Or at least you hope it's the figure and not it's twin your eyes have conjured up. Without hesitation you pull the trigger and your opponent sacks to the ground like a doll.

For the longest time you just lay there, limbs sprawled out and staring up to the ceiling. Slowly you regain your senses and struggle to sit up. The man who has almost taken your live, is dead at your feet with a gaping hole where his eye once was.

More gun shots can be heard in the distance and you climb down a ladder to make your way to the house. You kick open the front door, pistol at the ready, but you're only being greeted with bodies. Sadie must have done quick work with them.

Then you hear a fight coming from upstairs and you run up, still feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. There you see a big man stumble backwards, closely followed by Sadie who is repeatedly stabbing him in the chest. You freeze in place, unable to break your gaze away from the brutal scene.

She wipes away the blood from her face and shakes it off her hands and arms, having the drops fly to the ground. A certain darkness grips you, seeing your dear friend like this. She looks miserable and you quickly push a chair in her direction for her to sit down on.

"He was a good man, my Jakey.", she mumbles and buries her face in her hands. Her voice breaks. "We was always sweet on one another."

A grim expression begins to take form on your face and you place your hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I miss him everyday. Every moment.", she continues on and her features contort into an angry mask. "They turned me into a monster. But my memories of him? They still pure."

Despite her clothes being mostly covered in blood, you still lean down and pull her into a tight hug. Sadie wraps her arms around you, her hands grabbing a fistful of your button up shirt and she sniffles against your shoulder.

"Let's get out of here.", you murmur against her ear and she only nods.

---

The ride back to camp goes by in complete silence, followed by a troubling feeling, that still clings to you when you arrive. On the other side, you see Arthur and Micah standing infront of each other with squared up shoulders and you rush over to see what's going on.

Before you can make it there, you hear a large group of horses and Eagle Flies comes crashing in. He yells for Dutch, Arthur and Charles.

"They killed our people for oil! For oil!", he shouts, sounding outraged and in pain. "Today we have to ride once more! Ride with me! Ride against the factory!"

Dutch and the others make their way to him and Arthur comes standing next to you. The two of you haven't talked to each other since that 'argument' of yours and it's killing you.

"I love your courage, son!", Dutch answers, his arms spread wide. "It is a thing of great beauty-"

"Stop!" The voice is coming from the right and Rains Fall comes riding in on horseback, as if he's being chased by the devil. "Everyone stop!"

He slides off his saddle and walks to his son. "My son...my last son. When I was your age, I fought. I saw death. I have killed. The men I knew were slain. My first son, your brother, had his head smashed by a drunken soldier. My wife had her throat slit. We made peace. I knew not to trust, yet I had no choice."

He paces around. "Maybe you were right. Maybe a slow death is worse than a fast one. Maybe none of these men are good. Maybe a world in which they came to us is a world we can not endure! But endure we must."

His speech, his words, they move you, striking a chord deep within you. Though Eagle Flies, his son, his last son, seems to not pay them any mind.

"Father, you are tired.", he says, the fire still burning hot in his eyes.

"Do not die for pride, my son!", the chief continues, unwavering in his attempt to stop him from fighting. "We have suffered too much in this trick! The earth, the water, they have no pride. They endure and we must endure. My only boy...my precious boy...do not mistake my strength for weakness. As your chief, I implore you."

Silence hangs in the air. Loud. Full of meaning.

"Your words mean nothing to me, father."

With that the group rides off into the forest and your heart breaks, as you watch Rains Fall stand there, begging them to stop. Then he turns to Arthur, hope ever so prominent in his eyes.

"Mr. Morgan! After you helped me, after we spoke. This is just a trap. My son, my people, will die."

Then Dutch lays his cold eyes on the outlaw, some unknown emotion flickering in them. It sends a shiver down your spine.

"You helped this feller, Arthur?", the leader asks, making it sound more like a test than a question.

"What else have you been doin' behind Dutch's back?", Micah chimes in and you ball your hands into fists.

"Watch your mouth, Micah.", you snarl, not knowing where this courage is coming from.

He raises his eyebrows in amusement, as if you've just told him a good joke. "You better watch yours, darlin', before I-"

"The war is over, we have lost.", Rains Fall interrupts him, catching the men's attention again. "These young men will be annihilated. Please."

"I'll see what I can do.", Arthur says and you straighten your back, both proud and happy with his decision. "Who's ridin' with me?"

As he stomps to his horse, you closely follow together with Charles and you hear a scoff from Dutch.

"Oh, I'll ride with you.", he says. "Who knows what other secrets you've been keepin' from me."

The other men follow. Dutch is at the front and you're riding behind him next to Arthur. They're both fighting again. About the leader urging Eagle Flies and his men to fight, about telling them of the oil factory and to attack it.

"You handed them a death sentence.", Hosea exclaims with a grim expression.

"Just like with John if we hadn't broken him out of prison!", Sadie joins in, mad.

"Hey!", Bill barks at her. "You show some goddamn respect!"

"Oh you'll know when I ain't showin' respect, Bill."

"I had a plan!", Dutch shouts over his shoulder. "I still have a plan!"

"What goddamn plan, Dutch? Tahiti? Timbuktu?", you hear John from further behind you.

Javier interrupts him, outraged. "That's enough! What's wrong with you all? What happened to loyalty?"

You turn your head to look at him, you both locking eyes with each other. "You ready to die for loyalty or for yourself?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but Dutch cuts him off. "Right now it doesn't matter how we got here. These men need our help. I have a plan, this is my plan! So you either stick with me or cut loose! Because I am tired of this constant dissent. Now come on!"

In the distance you see a lone rider meeting you from the opposite direction. You recognize him as one of Eagle Flies' men. He looks injured, barely keeping himself ontop of the saddle and he urges you to hurry. You all signal your horses to speed up immediately.

The factory is standing almost entirely in flames and your heart drops, as you fear that you might be too late.

"Can anyone see Eagle Flies?"

"Over at the walkway!"

Arthur turns to Dutch. "You ride to the side, distract 'em and I'll go get him."

"Whatever you say.", Dutch drawls and gathers the men to ride off.

Charles, you and Sadie stay behind and follow the outlaw straight towards the factory. Men are standing in your way, shooting at you, but you make quick work of them. After only a couple of feet further down the hill, you already begin to feel the heat and Penthesilea halts, standing up on her back legs.

"We should continue on foot!", you shout over the battle noise and jump off the saddle.

With rifle in hand, you sprint with the others to the walkway, taking cover behind crates and wagons. It's a mess. The entire area is crawling with armed men and you can't even move a muscle without a bullet coming your way. But somehow you manage, you survive.

With full force and guns blazing, you push forward, closer and closer to the walkway. The wood creaks underneath your boots and it looks like you're crossing a burning lake. Pearls of sweat form on your forehead, running down your brows and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

Further ahead is a shed and two men burst through the door, trying to wrestle one another to the ground. You recognize Eagle Flies, who is being pinned down by a soldier. Before you can even think about raising your weapon, Arthur already takes a shot, hitting the mark to no one's surprise.

Eagle Flies stands up and his entire face lights up, as he sees your small group approach. "Thank you! All of you!"

"We need to go.", Charles says in a strained tone, but his words fall on deaf ears.

"Where are my men?"

"I saw some of them fighting by the factory to where Dutch has gone."

"We must save them!"

Heavy footsteps appear behind you and you watch more soldiers charging right at you. Together with Sadie, you duck behind stacked up planks and wait for an opening to shoot them down. Adrenaline courses through your veins and every muscle within you screams at you to flee, but you stay put.

You force your will onto your limbs and steady you trembling hands to fight. Sadie and Charles dash ahead with Arthur, you and Eagle Flies following right after. The tents and buildings you sprint past are just a blur and you cough from all the smoke you have inhaled.

Once you arrive at the railway, bullets begin to fly down on you at a merciless pace. A machine gun is stationed inside one of the train carts, but no one seems to bother. None of your companions jumps into cover, but instead they press ahead, their resolve unwavering.

While the shooter at the machine gun is occupied with the others, you aim your barrel at him and pull the trigger. Instantly, the lead rain seizes and you finish off the remaining soldiers. Your group doesn't even give you an opportunity to catch your breath, as they all run ahead once again.

Your lungs are burning from the effort and the smoke, your thighs are aching and your arms feel heavy, but you push on, push through the pain. With gritted teeth, you jump onto the train and press your back against the cold, metal wall.

"Just how many men are there?", you yell, but get no answer. Everyone is too occupied with staying alive.

As you make your way around the factory, you meet up with Dutch's group and from then on it becomes easier. The remaining soldiers fall like flies under the skillful hand of the Van Der Linde gang. It felt like the fight had taken forever and with a weary sigh, you sit down on top of an empty barrel to rest your feet.

You hear yet another argument between Arthur and Dutch up ahead and you watch with tired eyes, as they approach the backdoor of the factory.

"Javier get them out of here!", Dutch orders and Eagle Flies steps up.

"Until I have all my men, I'm not leaving.", he says.

"As you wish! The rest of you get out of there!"

Charles goes to stand by Eagle Flies side. "I'm staying with you."

A shrill noise cuts through the air, as Dutch shoots the lock of the door and enters the building. Arthur throws you one last look over his shoulder before following him inside. With a grunt, you jump off the barrel and stroll over to Charles and Eagle Flies.

"I'm staying too.", you tell them and they nod. They know, that you won't leave without seeing Arthur leave the factory in one piece. Not that you doubt his competence in a fight of course, but you simply don't trust Dutch.

Who's to say, that he won't murder him in cold blood in there?

The two men and you get to work and search the area for the others. It all goes by smoothly, everything being quiet. It doesn't look like there are any soldiers left and your eyes trail over the many piles of bodies.

"What a massacre.", you breathe out and Charles hums in agreement.

Then a bang rips you out of your thoughts and you spin around on your heels. That sounded like it came from inside the factory. More shots follow and you fall into a full blown sprint. Charles yells after you, but you can't hear it over your blood rushing in your ears.

Eagle Flies reaches the building way before you do and you fish your pistol out of it's holster. As you arrive inside, you rush to kneel next to Arthur who looks shaken up. Eagle Flies had taken down the men, who threatened to take Arthur's life just a couple of moments ago.

Suddenly something stirs in the corner of your eyes and a bullet hits the young man in the stomach. Driven by instinct, you raise your pistol and kill the shooter. Eagle Flies is cowering on the ground, losing a concerning amount of blood and Arthur lifts him up in his arms. Together you hurry outside.

"You ran away!", the outlaw roars and your eyes widen in both confusion and disbelief.

"I did no such thing, don't be a fool!", Dutch protests and realization washes over you.

Dutch was ready to let the man he calls his son die. He urges everyone to move as fast as possible and you help Arthur get the injured man onto horseback.

"I gotta get the boy to his father.", the outlaw says and you mount Penthesilea.

"As you wish.", Dutch answers, sounding like a mox between disappointed and upset. "Usually is, nowadays."

"Sure."

"I'm coming with you.", Charles calls out and hoists himself onto Taima.

"Me too!", Sadie adds, but Arthur immediately protests.

"No! This ain't gonna be nothin' nice!" Then he turns to look at you. "You should leave with her."

"I'm not leaving.", you answer, your tone calm and clear.

"But-"

"I said, what I said, Arthur. Now let's go."

For a few seconds he just stares at you and you begin to think, that he will continue arguing, but then he nods. Together with Eagle Flies' men, you ride in full speed to Wapiti. Your lips are pressed together into a grim line, as you think about what will happen next.

The way to the reservation is long and tedious with the moon illuminating the road only sparely. Its hard to see, so you stick closely to the others. They talk about Dutch, the gang and the money, but you don't listen. It saddens you too much.

In the distance you spot lights and you slow down as you enter the reservation. People are dropping everything they're doing and turn around, their gazes following you. In the middle of it all stands Rains Fall.

"Bring him to me.", he calls out and you dismount.

Arthur and Charles carry Eagle Flies inside and lay him down on furs. You're walking behind the chief, making sure to leave him room. Rains Fall's shoulders tremble, as he let's out quiet sobs and his son draws his last breath.

It's too much for you. Your throat tightens up and you quickly step outside to fill your lungs with fresh air, but it still feels like you're suffocating. As Charles and Arthur join you, you quickly wipe away the hot tears, that are starting to spill.

"They need to move. Fast.", Charles speaks up. "I'll stay with them."

Your eyes go wide and you grasp his hand.

"You're not coming back with us?", you ask, your voice trembling. With a sad smile, he squeezes your hand and shakes his head.

Next thing you know, you're throwing your arms around his neck and pull him into a bone crushing hug. The tears you've been fighting from falling, are staining his shirt now and he rubs circles into your back.

"Stay safe.", you mumble into his shoulder and reluctantly break away from him.

"You too.", he says and gives Arthur a short hug too.

You throw one last look at your friend before you leave.

Chapter Text

You bring the steaming tin cup up to your lips and take a small sip of the bitter coffee. It's oddly quiet around camp. Oddly empty too.

"Pearson and Uncle left.", Tilly tells you, breaking the silence and you nod to yourself.

"They probably don't want to die.", you answer and stretch your legs out infront of you.

The light sound of liquid sloshing inside a bottle can be heard from your other side where Karen is sitting. She takes a generous swig from the whisky. Lately she has been drinking more liquor than before. For a moment it looks like she wants to say something, but then decides to stay quiet.

As you lean back into your chair, you let your eyes wander around. There on the other side, you see Jack playing with a stick, tracing patterns on the ground and Abigail is watching him. A deep sigh leaves your lips.

"Let's ride out, gentlemen!", Dutch shouts and everyone who was sitting around the campfire, walks towards their horses.

A bit confused, you stand up and place your coffee cup down.

"Are you not comin' with them?", Tilly asks you the exact question, that you are thinking right now.

Then Micah appears infront of you and shoves a Carbine Repeater into your hands. You stare at him in bewilderment, as he grins at you widely, baring his teeth.

"We'll be robbin' us a train and we need a fine gun to guard the camp in the meantime. You think you're up for that, darlin?"

Still a bit caught off guard, you lower your gaze to look at the weapon in your hands. You have never been ordered to stand guard, so it's a bit sudden and surprising, that you're expected to do it now.

"Don't you want me on the train job?", you ask and instinctively flinch away when he gives your shoulder a slow pat.

"Dutch wants you right here, darlin'."

With that he strolls away and rides off with the others. The repeater feels unusually heavy in your grasp.

"He gives me the creeps.", Tilly comments and you grunt in agreement.

"You don't say."

You take a moment to familiarize yourself with the new gun, before walking to the camp entrance and standing guard. So far, your camp hasn't been attacked up here yet. Not by the murfree gang and not by the Pinkertons either, so you don't expect for it to happen now.

It's an intimidating thought, being the only one to watch the camp while the others are gone, but you comfort yourself with the thought, that Grimshaw is here as well. She hasn't left the gang and she can work a gun just nicely. A mental image of Molly's bloody corpse flickers in your mind at that thought.

Behind you, the remaining members of the Van Der Linde gang are completely silent. Only the crackling of the fire and the occasional scraping of Jack's stick fills the air. Other than that it's quiet. You begin to play with the thought of getting the women out right now. Now would be an amazing opportunity for that.

But Miss Grimshaw might shoot you on the spot for it. Granted, Dutch and her have been going through some nasty fights and arguments the past week, but she is still loyal to the gang. At least you assume she is. It could very well be, that she might have a change of heart and even help you get everyone out.

A cold breeze tugs at your clothes and sends a shiver down your spine. Perhaps you should go and quickly grab your coat. Who knows how long you will be standing here. With the repeater slung around your shoulder, you turn around on your heels and walk towards Arthur's tent on the whole other side.

That is when the hair on the back of your neck stands up. It's as if something from beyond is yelling at you to stop, the alarm bells in your head ringing uncontrollably. In the same moment, you hear the sound of hooves and you immediately ready your gun.

"Everyone! Get down!", you shout from the top of your lungs and take cover yourself behind the weapon wagon.

Just a heartbeat later, bullets rain down on you and you hear the terrified shouts of your friends. At every given opening, you peak out from behind the wagon and shoot some of the men down. You recognize the suits they're wearing. They're from the detective agency.

You press your back tightly against the wood, as more shots fall and you scan your surroundings. Over at the food wagon, you see Karen and Tilly cowering and further down, closer to you, is Jack behind a barrel. He's making himself as small as possible and covering his ears with his small hands.

Your heartbeat picks up with fear and worry and you fall into a sprint while aiming at the armed men to stop them from shooting. In one swift motion, you pick the boy up with one arm and dash towards your two friends. They're staring at you with wide eyes when you arrive with the kid.

"I'll distract them and you two get him out of here.", you order through gritted teeth and reload your gun.

"Mamma!", Jack cries out in a high pitched voice and you cup his cheek to stop him from looking at the mess, the camp has become.

"I'll get her for you, honey. You just stay with aunt Tilly and aunt Karen and do as they say. Okay?" You talk in a sweet voice, hoping it would keep him calm.

Jack only manages a nod and you urge him and the two women to go for the horses. As they flee, you empty your gun, not aiming for anyone in particular and just shooting in the general direction of the men. You don't intend to kill, but to keep them busy.

Once the trio makes it safely out of camp, you frantically search around for Abigail. For a horrible moment you begin to believe, that she might be hurt or worse. Then you hear a hysterical scream from the other side of camp and you watch her being dragged away. She's kicking and screaming, putting up one hell of a fight.

Immediately you aim and pull the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. Another one of them falls by your hand almost right after and you're internally begging for Abigail to just get up in run. Though now you notice, that they've got her hogtied and you curse under your breath.

It's risky, maybe even foolish, but you make a run for it. Bullets whizz past you, but you keep your pace and slide over the grass to kneel next to her. Quickly you get to work to remove the rope around her wrists and ankles.

"Jack! My son-"

"He's safe. He got out with the girls.", you tell her and you can feel her relax under you.

Something cold is being pushes against your temple and you slowly raise your hands. You don't have to look to know who it is.

"And here I thought I had killed you back at the bank.", Mr. Milton drawls and you don't dare move a single muscle.

"Then why have a bounty on my head?", you ask, voice strained.

"Ah, just for safety. In case you did make it out alive.", he answers and someone else harshly pulls your hands onto your back to tie them together. "But you're a resilient one. You'd make a fine bounty hunter I must say, but one needs common sense and morality to pursue a legal profession."

"I have more common sense than you might think, Detective.", you snarl with a bitter scoff, as your legs are being tied together. Next thing you know, you're being carelessly thrown onto horseback and groan in pain from your wound.

"I highly doubt that.", Milton retorts, mounting the horse you're on and rides off to Van Horn.

---

You find yourself tied to a chair in a shack at the docks.

"Didn't you say, that you wouldn't keep a single one of us alive?", you ask, tugging at the rope to get it to loosen up somehow, but to no avail. It cuts into your skin instead.

"You'll be put on a boat and trialed for murder.", Milton explains, as he stares out of one of the windows. You wonder if he can even see anything through the dirt and the grime.

"And why exactly are we waiting here?" Then it comes to you and you let out a humorless chuckle. "Dutch won't come for us. He..."

You don't finish the sentence, but you don't have to.

"I don't expect Mr. Van Der Linde to show up, but some of your other friends certainly will. Mr. Morgan for example."

Upon hearing the name, you tug harsher at the rope, ignoring the sharp pain in your arms. If you stay here then you will be executed. That is for certain. But if Arthur walks right into this trap, which he will guns blazing most likely, then he will be doomed too.

The only thing you can do is hope, that Dutch does in fact have some decency left and will gather his men to come and save you. Though you're very well aware, that that's only wishful thinking. He's not the same man who welcomed you into the gang in the snowy mountain. In fact, you wouldn't even be surprised if this was a set-up. Micah was very adamant about having you stay behind after all.

"We offered you all a deal.", Milton continues on, watching you with cold eyes. "Not many of you have so many scruples. Old Micah Bell-"

"You mean Molly?", you interrupt him, thinking he might have mixed up the names, but you're not too sure. A pit begins to form in your stomach.

"Molly O'Shea? We sweated her a couple times. She never said a single word."

A choked back sob almost leaves your throat and you close your eyes. So the reason why she said, that she was the traitor was a different one.

"Micah Bell. We picked him up after the bank robbery and he's been a good boy ever since."

Dutch, you fool...you absolute moron...

Suddenly there are people shouting outside, followed by the sound of gun shots. Milton doesn't look caught off guard though. On the contrary, you don't think you have ever seen him so pleased and smug. He returns his attention back to the window and you resume your attempt on loosening the ropes.

For a dreadful second there, you almost give up hope, but then you feel it give in. It's not a little bit, but enough to fuel your resolve and you pull and wiggle harder until your hand can move freely in and out. You almost gasp in victory, but bite down on your tongue just in time.

It sounds like there is quite a struggle outside and you start to assume, that Arthur might not be alone. Of course he isn't. He most likely has John and Sadie with him and those three is all you need to get out in one piece. Without Milton noticing, you undo the rest and grab a knife to cut Abigail's ropes.

A familiar click stops you and you find yourself once again at the end of the detective's barrel.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?", he growls.

You don't know what exactly is driving you to jump forward and grasp the gun, but you do just that. It's an unnecessary fight. A fight you know you can't win. Even as you use your entire weight to push down the weapon, he still overpowers you and the revolver slowly aims at your face.

The bullet to your gut was a critical situation, one you barely survived, but survive you did. A shot to the head on the other hand? Not even you are this lucky. Knowing, that you can't turn this around anymore, you close your eyes and wait for it.

An earpiercing peng cuts through the air and you stare in horror, as Agent Milton falls to the floor. Your eyes wander and you see Abigail holding your pistol in her trembling hands. Smoke is coming out of the barrel and your knees buckle.

"Shit.", you breathe out with a dry chuckle. "Good timing."

"Yeah...I know.", she mumbles, just as breathless as you are.

Next thing you know, the door is being kicked open with such brute force, that the entire shed seems to shake. Arthur's eyes are wide open and he looks terrified. Soon he relaxes when he sees Milton's body and he scoops you up in a bone crushing embrace.

"Are you hurt?", he asks and steps back to get a better look at you.

"No, I'm fine."

Right after him, Sadie enters through the door, closely followed by Lenny and Sean. Your heart jumps at the sight and Arthur helps you back up to your feet. Everyone is rushing out of the shed and away from the scene.

"It was Micah.", you then break the silence and they all stop dead in their tracks.

"What?", Sadie asks, her features contorting into an angry mask.

"He is the rat. Molly never said a word."

"How can you be sure?", Sean chimes in and you feel Abigail's presence by your side.

"Milton told us.", she says and the tension hangs heavy in the air.

For a long time it's quiet, but then you see more lawmen charge you further down the road. A curse leaves your lips and Arthur helps you get onto the back of his stallion. You all ride off into the opposite direction and into the woods to lose them.

One hand is holding tightly onto the outlaw, so you wouldn't get bucked off and the other fishes the Cattleman out of his holster. Quickly, you twist your torso and pull the trigger a few times, watching two men fall to the ground.

"We need to split up! Lenny, Sean! You go left!", Arthur shouts over the sound of bullets and the guys vanish behind bushes and trees.

The chase continues, as you follow the road, but with less men on your tail now. It's difficult to keep a steady aim on horseback, but after a couple attempts and some luck, you manage to take out the last few remaining pinkertons.

Sadie and Arthur ride more ahead until you get to a cross section and you see Penthesilea hitched to one of the tree trunks. You could have cried out in joy upon seeing your girl and you immediately jump down to greet her.

"Where is John?", Abigail asks as you lead your Andalusian onto the road. "What happened to John?"

Sadie and Arthur exchange grim looks and you feel your throat tightening up.

"He..." It's so unfamiliar to hear the outlaw's voice shake this much. "He either got killed or he got captured."

Immediately, Abigail's legs seem to give in, but Sadie catches her in time. She sobs uncontrollably and you feel your own eyes begin to well up at the prospect of John being gone.

"Jack is safe. He's with Tilly and Karen. Mrs. Adler will take you to him.", Arthur continues softly, attempting to sooth her pain. "But John...I want you to know, that he loved you. He loved you and Jack, he did. He wasn't perfect, but he did. Now you gotta get that boy."

He gently pushes her towards Penthesilea and you watch in confusion, as he helps her onto the saddle. Sadie places a hand on your back and guides you to her own horse.

"Didn't you say you'd take her to Jack-", you start, but then freeze in place. That's when it hits you and you hastily shake your head. "No...No!"

"You're leaving with 'em and that's the end of the matter." Arthur's words cut through your heart like an axe. He might as well have put a bullet between your eyes. That would have been more merciful than this.

"I'm not leaving.", you protest loudly and run after him.

With one hand on the saddle, he looks at you, his expression filled with sorrow.

"I'm sorry.", he murmurs and you take his hand.

"Don't do this to me, Arthur. Don't you send me away now."

"It's for the better."

"Bullshit!", you snap and hot tears run down your cheek.

His calloused hand touches the side of your face and his thumb caresses your skin. Then he pulls you in and leaves the ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

"Understand, that I'm only doin' this, 'cause I love you."

"If you love me, then let me come with you. Let me be by your side.", you beg, desperation lacing your voice.

"I can't, sweetheart. I've lost too many people dear to me already. I can't lose you too.", he whispers against your lips and leans his forehead against yours. "If this was a different life and I was a different man, I'd have married you."

Arthur starts to pull away, but your hands shoot forward to grab him by his arms. "You can still do that! Stay! Stay with me and we will get married, Arthur, please don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry." He takes you by your wrists and gently, but firmly removes your hands from his sleeves. "I love you."

With these words, he mounts his Kentucky Saddler and rides off into the distance. Sadie keeps you in places even as you kick, punch and scream. Hysterical sobs and pleas leave your throat, as you fight against her iron grip with all your might and force.

"You come back here!", you scream from the top of your lungs. "I hate you! I hate you, Arthur Morgan!"

Your words sound hollow even in your own ears. A cruel lie, produced by your misery and despair.

"We need to leave. Now.", she insists, her voice soft, yet stern.

"I'm not leaving him!"

She drags you to her horse and you try to push her away from you.

"Let me go, Sadie! I swear to God, I will kill you with my own two hands if you don't let me follow him!"

Sadie buries her fingers deep into your shoulders and stares you down.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind, woman? You will die!", she yells and you shake your head.

"Then let me."

"Forget it."

Blind rage flares up in your chest and you harshly slap her hands away, backing off. An exhausted sigh escapes her lips and she pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Don't make this difficult.", she pleads. "I don't wanna have to knock you out."

"Would you have done it? Would you have let Jake go for him to die?"

The woman's face freezes into an unreadable grimace and you know you've hit her hard with this, hit a nerve. It's a low blow, but one you're ready to deal if it meant, that you can open her eyes like that.

"I promised Arthur to keep you safe.", she whispers, looking conflicted. Slowly you take both her hands in yours.

"I know...but we both know what happens if he dies and I'm not there with him."

I will suffer the same way you are suffering now.

Her resistance crumbles and she holds her rifle out to you. You take it with a mumbled 'thank you'.

"Now you go and give 'em hell." She mounts her horse and Abigail wraps her arms around Sadie's waist. "If you die, I'll raise you from the dead and kill you again, ya hear me?"

Tears glisten in her eyes and she rides off without another word. Quickly, you jump onto Penthesilea's back and signal her to gallop in full speed. Wind whips against your face and your body aches from all the tension in your muscles. Convincing Sadie to let you go might have taken too long. You might be too late already.

By the time you arrive at camp, you're being greeted with utter chaos. The tents and wagons are destroyed and bodies lay scattered carelessly around. By the campfire, you spot Miss Grimshaw on the ground, lifeless. Blood is oozing out of her chest and your eyes frantically scan the area.

If she's dead then-

A cough rips you out of your thoughts and you almost immediately find the source. There is a man sitting by the cave and your heart drops into your stomach, as you recognize the grey set of hair. Numb and in shock, you dismount Penthesilea and run to him.

Hosea is spitting and coughing up blood while holding his side. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when he meets your gaze.

"What happened?", you gasp and rip off a piece of fabric from your skirt for a makeshift bandage.

He pushes your hands away when you try to tend to his wound.

"Don't bother. It's too late for me anyways."

"Don't say that.", you protest and bite down on your quivering lip.

"But it's true." He pauses to cough, his shoulders violently shaking from it. "You shouldn't linger, my dear. Go. Do what you came here to do."

Your vision blurs and you choke back a sob.

"Hosea-"

"Don't. Save your energy.", he interrupts you and a raspy laugh leaves him. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess, but something tells me, that it was intentional."

The older man raises his hand and points towards the cave. "Arthur and John ran through here and probably came out from the other side."

"John? He's alive? Arthur said-"

"He's wounded, but alive." He waves his hand at you, indicating for you to leave. "Now go, my dear."

You hold your fingers together and whistle for Penthesilea. Hosea gives you one last soft smile, before you ride along the path that leads around the cave. There you come across an opening in the ground and follow the sound of battle.

They're far ahead, so you don't expect anyone near you. But you are wrong. Oh and how wrong you are. As you ride up the mountain in full speed, something catapults you forward. Hot, sharp pain shoots through you and you grunt, unable to even scream.

You lower your gaze and your eyes fall on a branch sticking out from your side and you feel sick. Then you look to your right to where your horse is. She's laying there, twitching and producing noises, that break your heart in a thousand pieces. It's hell, crawling up to her, but crawl you did.

With a shuddering breath you press your forehead against her cheek and stroke her neck. A bullet had pierced her stomach and she's losing too much blood too fast. You had hoped for Hosea to be the only goodbye you'd have to go through.

"It's okay, girl.", you whisper, your voice breaking in the process and you stay. You stay with her until she passes away and even after that, you linger.

Your loyal girl is staring right at you, her brown eye slowly losing it's light. Her breath goes ragged, her lungs struggling to take in and push out the air. In these last moments, she's struggling to hold on and all you can do is be there for her, soothe her pain with your voice and touch.

"You've been good to me.", you mumble against her cheek. "Rest now."

The shooter seems to have disappeared. That lucky bastard. You would have made minced meat out of him, given him the slowest possible death to make him pay. With a strained groan, you prop yourself up on your knees and feel the stab wound.

It isn't too deep, so it should be safe to remove. Air fills your lungs, as you wrap your hands around the branch and you tense up your arms, pulling out the damned thing. A loud, guttural scream leaves your throat and you use the ripped off fabric from your skirt to bandage it.

Like a drunkard, you stumble ahead, push forward. One heavy step at the time. Sadie's rifle is long forgotten, lost somewhere in the bushes when you fell off the saddle. Now you're holding your volcanic pistol, gripping it so tightly that the whites of your knuckles are showing.

The sun has long set and the moonlight only barely illuminates the path infront of you. But you walk. You fight. Somehow you make your way to the peak, growing more exhausted by the minute and becoming more dizzy with each breath you take. Each twitch of your muscles is agony and your clothes are drenched with your blood.

This could be your death. A slow one at that. You deserve it after everything you have done, but you refuse to kick the bucket now. Maybe the universe will be so merciful and grant a dying woman her final wish.

You raise your head, seeing two figures fighting up ahead. The moment you open your mouth to shout, they roll over and fall off the cliff. Your heart stops at the sight and you quickly find a way around. As you come closer to your destination, you hear voices talk.

Arthur, Micah...and Dutch? A dry chuckle escapes you. If you're lucky then you get to kill those two bastards as revenge. Grunting and groaning, you support yourself against the cold, rocky wall and stumble over pebbles and your own clumsy feet.

Your heart nearly stops when you get there. Arthur is on the ground, his messy hair matted with blood. It looks like he might have hit his head in a pretty nasty way when he fell off that cliff. As luck might have it, none of the men have noticed you just yet.

"It is over now, Arthur. It's over.", Dutch speak and you blow some loose hair strands out of your face to get a better view.

"I agree.", you snarl and Micah turns around on his heels.

Both of you raise your guns at the same time and two shots cut through the night air. Micah stares at you with wide eyes and slowly falls down on his knees. Your own gun slips out of your hand, as all strength vanishes from your body. With dread you look down on yourself and see another, bigger and darker speck of blood form under your clothes.

I can't catch a fucking break, can I?

Everything is a blur when you make contact with the ground. Arthur screams your name and you look up at the starry sky. It hurts. Your body is hurting all over, but then it stops.

Suddenly you don't feel the pain anymore, nor the small rocks boring into your back underneath you. Instead you feel feather light. A familiar face appears in your vision. Arthur moves his mouth, his eyes staring down at you in horror.

You fool. My fool.

I love you.

Chapter Text

The shire pushes his head closer into your hand, as you pat his forehead and brush some dried dirt out of his raven black coat. A chuckle leaves your lips when he shakes his head, whipping his mane against your face.

"Yeah, yeah.", you mumble under your breath, not noticing the man sneaking up to you from behind.

A startled yelp escapes you when Arthur wraps his strong arms around your waist and presses soft kisses to your neck. He hums against your ear, sending a warm feeling from your chest straight down to your stomach.

"Mr. Callahan!", you exclaim in feigned offense. "What if the customers see your unprofessionalism?"

He pretends to think for a moment before answering you. "They'd think, that I'm lovin' my wife."

Your husband's hands wander under your blouse, his fingers dancing over the soft skin of your belly. They stop at the deep scars there and you can already imagine the grim expression on his face without having to look at him. Two bullets and a stab wound.

Back then, on that mountain eight years ago, you thought you had died. Micah had shot you good and you had already lost tons of blood from getting pierced by a stick. You have no idea how Arthur managed to get you off that damned cliffside with his head injury and all. He never told you exactly what happened, always avoiding the topic.

Someone calls out your name and you turn around to face Agnes Neely, the eldest daughter of the general store owner in Blackwater. Her lips are curled up into a knowing smirk, signaling you that she has some interesting news. As her eyes fall on Arthur, she nods as a greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Callahan."

"Agnes.", he says with a short wave of his hand and then he hooks his thumbs into his belt. "I'll leave you ladies to it then."

With that he takes the brush from your hands and goes to work at the back of the stables to give you some privacy. Your friend leans over to you.

"Guess what I just found out.", she whispers excitedly and you pull off your working gloves.

"Why do I feel like you will tell me before I even try to do that?"

"So my Pa heard, that some feller bought the property up at Beacher's Hope.", she tells you, ignoring your question completely and your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

"What? Someone bought that place?"

She nods hastily, her brown locks bouncing up and down. "It sounds like he wants to make a ranch out of it."

"But there's nothing on there except for that run down shed and besides, what will his animals graze? Rocks?"

You know that place well. Before you and Arthur took on a loan to buy your stable, you have looked at Beacher's Hope. It only took one glance for you to immediately decide against it. Either the new owner is batshit crazy or loaded with money and recourses to build new buildings with.

"I don't know.", she answers with a giggle and pokes her slim finger against your shoulder. "But I smell a business opportunity for you."

That's not quite wrong. If that guy really is sitting on cash, then it would be a smart move to meet him as soon as possible. He could buy some horses from you or you could make a contract with him like you did with James. If there's transporting to be done then your horses and wagons are on the job.

"I don't have much time to chat.", Agnes says, ripping you out of your thoughts. "I just thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks. That actually was some useful information for once.", you tease and she playfully smacks your arm.

"Oh, shut up!"

With a wave of her hand she leaves the stables and not a moment later, Arthur is already by your side. His expression is one of curiosity and he leans against the wall with crossed arms.

"So what was that all about?", he asks and you raise your eyebrow.

"You nosy grandpa."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know, sweetheart, I'm in my prime."

You hum in fake agreement and take in his appearance. His hair is a bit longer than it was when you met him, slightly curling around behind his ears. Sometimes when the light hits him just right, you can see the few grey hairs, that have started to appear a few years ago.

Arthur would never admit it, but it makes him a bit more self conscious about his appearance than he already is. Though you think the grey hair looks incredibly handsome on him.

"Someone bought that place up in Beacher's Hope.", you tell him and his face drops.

"What stupid moron would buy that dump?"

"He wants to make a ranch out of it."

Arthur scoffs in mocking amusement. "What a fool...", he murmurs.

"Can you get a wagon ready for us?", you ask him and walk up to the desk next to the entrance.

"You ain't thinkin' about payin' that guy a visit, are you?" When you don't answer him he just sighs and throws his hands up in defeat. "Fine! I'll get right to it."

A short while later, you leave the building and close the door behind you. Your husband is waiting besides the wagon, holding out his hand to you to help you climb up into the seat. Throughout the ride, he still keeps grumbling to himself how unnecessary that trip is and how the new owner is most likely just nuts.

"But what if he isn't? If his ranch is a success, we can sell some horses or have him rent our wagons.", you explain, growing more and more excited about meeting this new potential business partner.

"Or he's as dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron."

On the side of the road, a halfway broken fence appears, indicating that you're close to the property. The wood is broken in some places and had started to rot even. That new owner must be pretty confident in his skills, if he genuinely believes, that he can fix up this place.

Arthur turns to the left, entering Beacher's Hope and you see a run-down shack in the distance. Two horses are hitched to a tree on the side and he parks the wagon close to them. He gets off first and holds onto your waist to help you back down. Together you walk towards the shed, hearing the crackling sound of fire.

"Excuse us for intruding, but-"

Your words get caught in your throat, as your eyes land on none other than John Marston. He too is standing there, stunned and frozen in place, until you throw your arms around him with a delighted laugh. Tears prickle in your eyes.

"I can't believe you're here!", you gasp and take a step back to get a better look at him. "It's so good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too.", he says with his usual raspy tone and a wide grin on his face. You don't remember the last time you have seen him like this.

"I shoulda known, that you is the moron who bought this dump.", Arthur calls out from behind you. The words might be harsh, but the glimmer in his eyes is soft, glad to see his brother again.

"You heard? Already?", John asks, stunned and confused and that is exactly when another familiar figure appears, stumbling out of the shed.

Uncle squints, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright light of the high sun and he grunts irritatedly. "What is all this ruckus 'bout?"

All gruffness and grumpiness leaves him the moment he lays eyes on your form and a wide grin forms on his face. With spread arms, he rushes towards you to pull you into a bone crushing embrace.

"That your ranch hand, Marston?", Arthur snarls with a mocking scoff. "You tryin' to see how fast you can fail at this thing or what?"

"Don't be like that, Morgan!", Uncle protests, letting out barking laughter. "Admit it! You is happy to me!"

"You wish. My day actually got a bit worse, if you ask me."

Instead of keeping the banter going, you clear your throat, grabbing the men's attention. "Actually we don't go by Morgan around here. We'd appreciate it if you stick to Callahan from now on. I don't think I need to explain why."

John nods in understanding and mumbles a quick 'of course'. Uncle on the other hand looks like he's going to burst from excitement any second. His entire face lights up, as he points his finger at you and Arthur.

"Don't tell me...you folk got married?"

John raises his eyebrows now, studying the pair of you with a curious gaze and you nod. His lips curl up into a pleased smile.

"Alright. Congrats to you."

"Thanks.", you answer and scan your surroundings. "Speaking of. Where are Abigail and Jack?"

It's been years since you have seen them and can't wait to catch up again. A grim feeling stirs inside you when you notice the way John's face drops. Rather awkwardly, he shifts his weight from one foot to another and scratches the back of his neck.

"About that...they ain't here right now."

That is all he needs to say for you to understand and you place your hand on his arm, giving him a soft squeeze.

"What? Did she see what you bought and left?", Arthur chimes in and you throw him a scolding look over your shoulder.

"No!", the other man argues defensively. "It was actually her idea to buy this property."

Your husband scoffs again, but refrains from another mean comment much to your relief. You put your hands on your hips and examine the area more thoroughly. A satisfied hum escapes you once you're done taking everything in.

"This spot has potential though. With a few uh...proper buildings, you can definitely run a fine ranch. We would gladly help you get started, right Arthur?" You shoot him a meaningful glance.

"Sure.", he adds curtly.

"I'm on good terms with the store owner in Blackwater. I can put in a good word for you once you start selling products."

John's features soften at your words and he looks speechless for a second there. "Thank you, guys. I really appreciate it."

"We was headin' to Saint Denis now!", Uncle speaks up and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Arthur subtly cringes next to you upon hearing the name. You visit the city every now and then for business meetings with James, but Arthur is doing his best to stay clear from the place. He only travels there when he absolutely has to and you make sure to limit it as much as possible for his sake.

"Why?", he asks, already sounding grim.

"Well.", John starts, giving you and Arthur a quick and easy smile. "We heard Charles was there."

Hearing the name makes something within you stir and your mouth stands agape. The last time you had seen Charles was after Eagle Flies died and you haven't heard of him ever since. In fact, you haven't heard of any of the former gang members. Granted, Sadie drops by your stable every now and then when she has work in the area.

"Then what are we waitin' for? Let's get him!", Arthur immediately shouts and makes his way towards your wagon with you following him closely behind.

---

Your small group gets off at the train station in Saint Denis and you make sure not to take in too deep of a breath. The air here still reeks of piss and all sort of other smells you don't dare to think about. It's always unpleasant when you find yourself in the area.

"John and I can ask around in the saloons.", you turn to Arthur. "You and Uncle could try the fences."

"Why am I stuck with that moron?", he immediately protests in a raised voice and you wave it off.

"Because I know, that you will keep him out of trouble."

He runs a hand over his face, visibly unhappy with the idea of being teamed up with the old man, but also unable to say 'no' to you. It's a power, which you use to your own advantage quite often. Not that you would ever admit that to him of course.

John and you walk off towards the nearest bar, falling into comfortable chatter. You tell him about what happened on that mountain. How you shot Micah and how he shot you. Arthur somehow got you off there and nursed you back to health, however he had managed that. Dutch on the other hand? You got no idea what happened to him.

"Abigail, the boy and I...we wandered around the country. We were livin' at a ranch close to Strawberry before I bought that place at Blackwater.", he tells you. "She had mentioned it before, so I thought..."

He trails off and you hum in understanding.

"She will come back. Just keep doing what you're doing right now. You're on the right track."

Once you arrive at a saloon, John asks the bartender about Charles, giving him a description of him. The man tells you to search at a place called Saint Saturnines. There at the entrance of a back alley are standing Arthur and Uncle. The latter is waving at you.

"What took you so long?", he asks and you exchange mildly annoyed looks with John.

As you take a turn into the alleyway, the sound of an excited crowd fills the air. It grows louder the closer you get and just around the corner, you see him. Charles has his hands on the edge of a crate, his gaze fixed straight forward. He's wearing no shirt and his skin is glistening with blood and sweat from what you assume is the result of a previous fight.

Another stranger stands beside him, leaned over and talking in a serious tone.

"You know what you gotta do.", he says, before throwing your group an unreadable look and walking away.

Arthur replaces his spot, but it doesn't seem like Charles has noticed him yet.

"He doesn't know the half of it."

Upon hearing his voice Charles jumps and stares at him in bewilderment. The two men share a heartfelt hug before his eyes land on the rest of you. His entire face lights up in delight and you feel like you're going to be crushed in his embrace.

"So you're fighting for money now?", you ask with a raised eyebrow, as you take in your surroundings.

"Yeah."

"And you like that?" Charles looks at you as if you just asked him if he likes to kick puppies for fun.

"Of course not! So..." He trails off and then something lights up behind his eyes. "Let me go place a bet."

With that he walks up to a guy holding a book and taking dollar bills from the others. Charles shoves some cash of his own into his hands and makes his way through the crowd. You bury your hand in your leather satchel and take out a money clip.

"I'll bet on the guy who just talked to you.", you say and he raises his eyebrows in utter shock.

"Ma'am...are you sure? $50?"

"As sure as can be.", you answer curtly and feel John's eyes bore into you from the side.

"Didn't hold you for a gambler.", he comments, before placing his own bet.

"I'm not gambling. I'm investing."

With that you join Arthur's side and intertwine your fingers with his. This place reeks even more than the center of the city and the strong smell of iron and sweat isn't making it any better. Aside from that, half the men here stink of booze.

Once the fight starts, the sound of obnoxious cheering, yelling and knuckles meeting cheek bones fills the air. It's bad enough to listen to, so you do your best to avert your gaze. Even regulated fistfights with safety rules make you uncomfortable and it has been a while since you have found yourself amidst violence.

Much to your relief, the fight doesn't last long and not much to your surprise, Charles comes out as the winner. After you pick up your winnings, he throws over a button up shirt and you walk towards the docks. He says there are a few things he needs to get before leaving.

"I'll meet you all at the bridge right outside Saint Denis!", Uncle calls out from behind you.

"Where are you goin'?" John already sounds beyond exasperated and done with the old man.

"Just got some errands to run.", Uncle mumbles, fidgeting with his hands.

"You're useless!"

"I'm a deep thinker!"

"Be quick!"

With that you part ways and follow Charles to the docks. On the way there you tell him the same story you told John. The gang splitting, the mountain, the fight and your near death experience.

"I saw graves when I returned.", Charles says and you exchange meaningful looks with Arthur.

"Well, we came back after a while.", your husband tells him. "Buried Hosea and Miss Grimshaw."

The two of you even made a grave for your precious girl. You had left a red apple on top of it, knowing it was her favorite treat. The memory of that fateful day still lays heavy on your shoulders and your fingers instinctively wanders to your stomach. Arthur places his large hand on the small of your back when he notices your fingers dancing over the spots where your scars are.

The wood underneath your boots thumps and creaks under your weight and your eyes land on a small group of fancy dressed men. For some reason a shiver runs down your spine and you furrow your eyebrows, as you try to remember where you have seen someone similar. It's just that they're radiating off such a familiar energy to you.

Charles head turns to them for a brief second as well and you can see his broad shoulders tensing up under the fabric of his clothes. A deep pit forms in your gut at his reaction.

"Careful.", he whispers to the three of you over his shoulder and Arthur pulls you closer to his side.

"Why?", he asks through narrowed eyes.

"These are Guido Martelli's men. He used to work for Angelo Bronte."

You could have groaned in irritation. So that's why they seemed so familiar to you. With an exasperated sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head.

"We've only been here for an hour.", you grumble under your breath.

Footsteps can be heard behind you. The men must have noticed you too and are now lining up to confront you. One of them calls out to you and you all turn around. As much as you would have loved to just keep on walking, you knew better than to defy him on his territory.

"Come over here.", he commands, waving his gloved hands.

The four of you don't need to talk to communicate, already knowing what will happen next. As if on cue, Charles and John jump to the left while you and Arthur take cover to the right. It has been years since you last used a gun, but you always carry it around with you. You never leave the house without it.

Pistol in hand, you aim and empty your lungs out from all the air. For a brief moment, you hesitate, asking yourself if you should really do this. If you should really kill again. A voice in the far back of your mind whispers sweet words to you. It's a voice you have buried a long time ago and now that it's back, you feel something inside you tear.

Without giving it much more thought, you pull the trigger and hit your mark. The force of the shot makes your arms tremble and you watch the gloved man sack down. His blood taints the wooden planks.

"There's a wagon up there! I'll just get my bag!", Charles shouts, ripping you out of your thoughts and your trio falls into a sprint.

He follows closely after. Arthur and John are sitting in the front while you're crouched down in the back with Charles. Several police whistles cut through the air and you curse under your breath

"I'm spending one day with you buffoons and I'm already wanted again?", you bark over all the chaos, your features contorted in anger. "I can't afford to have a bounty on my head here!"

But luck is on your side, because it doesn't look like the law is after you at all. Arthur is doing an incredible job of getting you out of there and away from the gunshots. It does not soothe your anger in the slightest, though.

You open your mouth to let a tirade of insults and profanities rain down on them, but are being cut off by Uncle. He's mounted on a horse on the side of the bridge and waves at you.

"You guys been off gettin' up to no good?", he calls out and you holster your pistol again.

"Don't get me started.", you hiss through gritted teeth and Charles gives you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into this mess."

"No, no." You sigh and calm your nerves. "It's fine. I'm fine. I just...we've been avoiding this violence for so long now. I don't want to get back into it."

"I understand."

You run a hand over your face and lean back.

Chapter Text

The Thoroughbred flaps his ears, as he happily munches on the oatcake you're holding out to him. He has been with you since he was a foal, born and raised in your stable. No one could ever replace Penthesilea of course, but you love the stallion just as much as you had loved your precious girl.

"What's his name?", you hear someone ask behind you and you turn around on your heels with a startled gasp.

"John! Don't fucking sneak up on me like that!", you scold him, your lips tightly pressed together into a grim line.

"Sorry. Thought I made enough noise when I came in.", he says, his hands raised high in surrender.

A sigh leaves your lips and you give your stallion a soft pat on the neck. "This is Montgomery. I raised him myself."

The man hums in understanding and studies the horse a bit closer. It's evident on his face, that there is something he wants to talk about, but you don't push it. Instead you continue spoiling Montgomery in content silence.

"This might sound crazy, but...", he then finally starts and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "I bought one of 'em pre-cut houses."

"You went to Mr. Cakes?", you ask with a raised eyebrow.

"You know that guy?"

"I sure do."

Everyone in Blackwater and around the outskirts knows at least of Albert Cakes. The building material he sells are of fine quality, but he's quite the personality to put it mildly. He's nice, incredibly helpful even, but also extremely all over the place. You can't even begin to count the amount of times he has mixed you up with someone entirely else.

But perhaps he just has a large amount of customers. It's difficult to keep track of all of them, you suppose. The ones you and Arthur deal with are mostly regulars, folk who come to rent your wagons and Shires every now and then.

Without another word, you signal for John to follow you to the back and hold out the reigns of a horse to him.

"Two wagons is all we will need.", you say and the two of you make your way outside. He throws you a puzzled look over his shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"The material.", you answer in a matter of fact way. "How else are you going to bring it to your ranch? You wanna carry all that by yourself?"

Then he stops dead in his tracks and turns his entire body to you. "How much would it cost? Renting out your stuff, I mean."

"Don't be ridiculous, John."

He follows you, as you get the horses ready, his expression a worried mask. "You're not lettin' me borrow this for free, are you?"

"Of course!", you exclaim and throw your arms up. "The road from Blackwater to Beacher's Hope isn't too far, but we'd need to make a stop up in the woods first."

"For what?"

"You don't plan on building your house with thoughts and prayers, do you?" You cross your arms and lean against a wheel. "There's this Norwegian feller, Nils. He makes very good tools and he knows us."

"I-" John's voice falters and he runs a hand over his mouth. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"You can thank me by using exclusively our services, once you get that ranch of yours going."

An amused huff escapes him. "Oh, now I see how it is."

As you walk back into the stable, you grab a Carbine Repeater you keep hidden under your desk next to the entrance and walk back out again. John scrutinizes you with a confused expression while you check the ammunition.

"Go grab Charles. Arthur and I will meet you in Blackwater and then we can load the material.", you tell him and he motions with his chin towards the weapon.

"What's that for?"

"There's a pretty mean gang around these parts at the moment. The Skinners. Have you heard of them?" He shakes his head as a 'no' and you continue your explanation. "They're real nasty, so take some strong guns with you."

A thoughtful noise leaves his throat, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he mounts his horse and rides off.

---

Arthur and you park the two wagons on the side of the road and he rushes over to help you off the driver's seat. A deep, worried crease has taken form between his eyebrows and he looks anything but happy.

"You should let us get the tools and stay back.", he grumbles and you immediately shake your head.

"Absolutely not.", you respond in a tone that won't tolerate any protest. "You guys will need all the guns you need."

"The three of us will be enough.", he argues, but you wave it off.

"But four is better and I can work a gun just fine. You know, that I won't let you put yourself in danger by yourself."

"And we all know how well that went last time, don't we?" His words are harsher than he has expected himself, judging by the way his eyes go wide in slight shock. Immediately, his rough features soften and he takes both your hands in his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"It's okay."

"No. It ain't." Arthur plants a soft kiss on your forehead. "I don't want anythin' to happen to you."

"Nothing will happen. We will have Charles and John with us."

As if on cue, the two men appear on horseback and hitch their rides close to you. Right after their arrival, the four of you get to work and load the wagons with planks and other material. Arthur and Charles are driving ahead with the first one leading the way to Nils. John and you are following behind.

"Have you heard anything from Abigail and Jack yet?", you ask and watch him from the side. Upon hearing the names, his face slightly drops.

"No, but I'll write them." There's a pause. "I just wanna get things goin' first. Have somethin' to show, you know?"

"I think that's a great idea, John."

The rest of the drive continues on in comfortable silence. That and your gaze scanning your surroundings and listening to every single sound. It's not that you're overly nervous about an ambush. Every sane outlaw would be thinking twice about robbing you and those three mean looking men you're with.

Once you arrive at the cabin, you tell Arthur and Charles to wait while John and you make your way into the garden. Nils is working in the back and you shoot him a bright smile when you get closer.

"Hey, Nils!", you greet him, but he keeps his gaze on his work. "We were wondering if you have some tools for us to buy?"

"Okay.", the Norwegian answers not much to your surprise. He has always been a man of very few words.

"My friend John here bought that place at Beacher's Hope."

"Okay."

"We can also pay you upfront."

The pair of you follow the man, as he picks up a tool box and walks to your wagon. "Okay."

Without saying anything else, he loads the box onto the back and disappears in his garden. John gives you a strange look, but you wave it off and jog after the Norwegian to give him the cash. Once everything is settled, you find yourself on the way again.

"That was...somethin'.", John comments while steering the horses and you hum in agreement.

"He is a bit odd, I agree. But his work is fantastic. You will see once you start building your stuff."

As you get closer to the edge of the forest, you begin to relax in the seat. So far you haven't been ambushed and you doubt the Skinners will do so when you're out in the open again. Just as you lean back and let out a sigh, something flies right past your nose and into a tree trunk.

Your eyes widen when you recognize that it's an arrow and you quickly push John off. The two of you crouch behind the wagon and you swing the Carbine Repeater off your shoulder. A fast look to the side tells you that Arthur and Charles have taken cover as well and relief washes over you.

Some of them shoot with bows and arrows, but others use guns as well. It's difficult to find an opening for you to shoot, having to be careful about not being impaled. In the corner of your eyes you spot something stir and you breath gets caught in your throat.

One of the men is charging at John, his machete raised high and you aim. The man goes down, producing a few gurgling noises before going completely limb. Your friend mumbles a breathless 'thanks' before focusing on the fight again.

"Those bastards stole the tools!", Arthur shouts and you hiss a curse.

Once all the Skinners are down and you get to catch your breath again, Arthur and John are already sprinting for the trees. Charles and you stay behind and on high alert in case more of them try to steal the rest of your cargo.

Waiting for the two men to return takes an agonizingly long time and you grow anxious. Your gaze is fixed on the tree line and you pace back and forth like a tiger in a cage. Charles eventually puts his big hand on your shoulder and you stop in your tracks.

"They'll be fine."

"They jumped us out of nowhere.", you murmur with a shake of your head and run a hand over your face.

"I know." He turns his head towards the direction Arthur and John had run off to. "But try not to worry too much."

A deep sigh escapes your lips and you let out a dry chuckle. "It was very peaceful before you, John and Uncle showed up, you know?"

Your words were meant as a joke, nothing too harsh. Charles laughs at that and nods along.

"That I can imagine."

A great weight is being lifted off your shoulders when the bushes begin to rustle and the two men step into sight. They both look exhausted, but all in all still in one piece. With a relieved gasp, you lean back against one of the wheels and you quickly resume your drive.

At Beacher's Hope, Uncle is sitting under a tree with his hat deep in his face. The volume of his snoring had probably alarmed every animal in the area and John looks like he's about to explode. With his features contorted into an angry mask, he stomps over to the old man and gives him a good, strong kick.

"Weren't you supposed to stand guard?", he shouts while the three of you load off the wagons.

"You took so long!", the older man defends himself and John waves it off before joining you again.

"You're useless!"

It takes almost the entire rest of the day to set everything up to get started and John is bend over the table, inspecting the instructions. His gaze is a mix of thoughtfulness and slight doubt. It seems like he still doesn't quite trust those pre-cut houses.

"We should get these wagons back.", Arthur starts, walking up to the first one. "I'll come back tomorrow mornin' again."

You shoot your husband a warm smile upon hearing that. The fact that he's going to come back to help build the house makes you incredibly happy and proud. He tries his utmost best to not make a big deal out of it, but you can tell that he's glad to have his family back.

Quickly you jump onto the second wagon and you both drive them back to your stable. After parking and getting the horses ready for the night, you retreat into your own home. It's a small and humble, yet cozy cabin. The cooking, eating and sitting area is all connected with a hearth in the middle to keep your warm.

On the side are two doors to separate the bedroom and washing room. Even though back then, your budget didn't quite allow it, Arthur had still insisted on buying a large tub. As you get on making dinner, he lights a fire in the hearth. Once you're done with your evening routine, you find yourself cuddled up to his side in the bed you two share.

"I'm glad they're here.", you whisper into the darkness, as your hand rubs his broad chest.

The moon shines a faint light through the window to the side, but the curtains block out most of it.

"I thought you was mad.", he counters with that raspy chuckle of his. "Seemed like it everytime we all got together."

"That's because everytime we got together, someone shot at us.", you immediately argue and feel his arms wrap around your hips.

In one swift motion he pulls you ontop of him and even in the dim light, you can see the lazy smile and gleam in his eyes. The way his hands roam your sides sends a warm feeling from your chest down to your stomach.

"We'll be alright. All this will be alright.", he murmurs against your lips, before pressing his own on them.

The kiss is gentle and slow, as if he's trying to savor you and your taste and you melt into his touch. Even after all these years together, he still manages to turn you into a puddle of molten wax in his arms.

---

The next few days, Arthur is a lot more absent. Half of his week he works at the stables, but the half he spends helping the others on the house. You ride over with Montgomery to pay them a visit every few days or so and the progress leaves you impressed everytime.

"My my, gentlemen.", you call out, as you dismount your stallion and walk over to the half-build structure. "Can't believe that this is still standing."

"You have no idea, my dear.", Uncle chimes in from the side and shakes his head, as if he's disappointed about something. "It's like these morons have never build anything in their entire life."

His words get a small chuckle out of you, but John raises his hammer in the old man's direction. The motion is menacing and you don't doubt for a second, that he's serious.

"If I hear one more goddamn word from that big mouth of yours..." He doesn't finish his threat, but he doesn't have to to get the wanted effect.

Uncle throws up his hands in surrender and backs off with a nervous laugh. While the three men get back to work, you try to help here and there as well. Though you can't linger for too long with your own business needing attention.

Once you lead Montgomery back into his spot and brush the dust off his coat, the familiar squeaking of the front door cuts through the air. A customer.

"I'll be with you in a second!", you shout over to them, not looking up from what you're doing.

"Don't let me wait too long.", the person answers and you nearly jump out of your riding boots.

As you take a peak from around your horse, you spot Sadie standing at the entrance with a bright grin on her face. Immediately, you run up to her and fall into her arms.

"You idiot! Why didn't you write me that you were coming?", you scold her half-heartedly.

"And ruin the surprise?", she asks with a raised eyebrow.

You usher her outside and towards your homestead closeby. There you leave her on one of the chairs on your porch and disappear inside, only to come back out with two glasses and a bottle of whisky. It's a special brand, one that Mary Linton had sent you as a wedding gift.

The whisky had been aged in sherry casks, giving it a sweet undertaste and you usually keep it stored for special occasions. Such as when your best friend spontaneously drops by. The first time you had opened one of the bottles was when Arthur and you bought the stables and the house. The second time was when you became business partners with James, an opportunity that had you pay off your bank loan in just a few months.

"What brings you here? Another bounty?", you ask while pouring in the liquor.

"Yes. It's kind of a nasty one. Ramone Cortez, if that tells ya anythin'." That name does ring a bell in your head and you nod. "I was thinkin' about askin' for Marston's help."

"John? You two have been working together?"

"Yes, when the reward is good enough to share."

"I see." You pause for a moment. "They're building a house right now. You could stay the night here, with us and then ride out with him tomorrow."

She seems to contemplate your offer for a while, swirling the alcohol around in her glass. "Sure. If you have room. I don't mean to intrude."

"You're not intruding at all.", you immediately exclaim, shaking your head profusely. "You could never."

"Oh, I don't know." A sly smirk begins to spread over her face and she throws you a meaningful look from the side. "Don't wanna interrupt whatever you and your husband dearest do in your free time."

A shy chuckle escapes you and you playfully slap her shoulder. "Shut up."

After a while of chatting and more drinks, the sun starts to set, painting the sky and prairie in a deep red. The sound of hooves can be heard approaching in the distance and you watch Arthur ride onto your property. An amused scoff leaves his throat when his eyes land on you and Sadie.

"I see how it is.", he grumbles, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "While I work my ass off, buildin' Marston's dream house, you two are sittin' here all comfortable and drinkin' the day away."

His teasing makes the two of you cackle louder than it should have. Arthur might be right. The whisky might have gone to your head a little and you press a hand against your cheek, noting how hot your skin feels.

"We was discussin' uh...business.", Sadie drawls, dragging the words out in a slurring way.

"What she said.", you hastily chime in and your husband waves it off while leading his horse away.

With wobbly knees, you push yourself off the chair and Sadie follows your actions. She helps you gather the glasses and the almost empty bottle and the two of you stumble your way into the house.

---

Several weeks pass after that until John has his house up. You wake up in the morning to an empty bed and pinch the bridge of your nose with a chuckle. It only makes sense that Arthur had stayed over there to celebrate their success. With a grunt, you kick back the blanket and get yourself ready for the day.

You do your morning chores as quickly as possible and prepare Montgomery to ride out. It won't cause any harm to drop by and see how the men are doing. Just making sure, that they didn't wreck the newly build house during their celebration.

The homestead is standing high in the distance, filling your chest with joy and pride. Those feelings are quickly snuffed out when you notice the many specks of blood on the ground. Quickly, you dismount and barge through the front door. Frantically, your eyes jump from one place to another.

There's Arthur and here's John. Charles is just over there in the back, so that only leaves...

"Where's Uncle?", you bark and they all groan in unison. They're all looking around, grunting and disoriented. Charles is the first one to be up and about, meeting your gaze with a clear expression.

"Uncle! Where is he?", you repeat and motion for him to follow you outside.

A concerned noise leaves his throat when you point at the blood and he searches the area for more clues. After a few minutes, Arthur and John come stumbling out and squint their eyes at the bright sunlight.

"Relax.", your husband says with a wave off his hand. "That old bastard is probably sleepin' by a tree or somethin'."

"No.", Charles argues, his shoulders all tensed up. "He's been taken."

"Taken? By who?", John asks and you feel a pit form in your stomach, already knowing the answer.

"The Skinner Brothers."

That sobers the other two men up right away and they grab their guns before rushing over to their horses. Before you can mount Montgomery, Arthur extends an arm out infront of you and you give him a puzzled look.

"You ain't comin'.", he says, his tone firm. "I want you to ride back home."

"Excuse me?" Your voice comes out harsher than intended.

"You saw them when we got those tools." He stares at you, his eyes cold and demanding, but there is something else behind them. A plea. "This is too dangerous."

"You should know by now, that I'd rather get killed than let you go off by yourself."

Pain flickers behind that stern mask of his and he let's out a defeated sigh. "You'll just follow us."

"Exactly."

With that you hoist yourself onto horseback and follow Charles to the forest. Before entering it, you all continue the way on foot under the cover of shrubs. A patrol passes you, which you successfully evade and then follow a wagon that is dragging a man behind it. His agonizing sounds send a shiver down your spine.

The driver stops momentarily and gets off the wagon to pick up the poor soul, who is now laying lifeless in the undergrowth. Charles shoots an arrow right through his skull, killing the gang member silently. After that is done, you find an elevated spot to oversee the camp. Much to your surprise, it's completely empty.

The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, as you take the chance to approach Uncle. They have tied him up over the campfire and your stomach turns upside down at the sight of his burned back. You and Charles quickly go to untie him and support him on either side.

"I don't like this.", Arthur grumbles and you hum in agreement.

It does seem suspicious that no one was guarding the camp or Uncle. Though before you can even voice your concerns, an arrow whizzes past your face and you almost drop the older man. He screams in pain at your sudden movement and you mumble a quick apology, unsure if he even hears it.

Armed men come charging you from all sides and you force your legs to carry the older man towards your horses that are waiting just up ahead. Arthur and John are firing shots left and right and you can't do anything but trust that they will keep you safe and untouched.

A hysterical shout can be heard and you lift your gaze to watch one of the Skinner Brothers sprint right at you.

What is it with them and their damned machetes?

Almost immediately he comes crashing to the ground, a gaping hole right between his eyes. You give Arthur a thankful smile, but he only ushers you forward. Even on horseback they chase your through the woods. Having the fastest horse out of all of the men, you're riding up ahead with Uncle sitting right behind you. Every now and then you feel his grip on you falter and you have to reach back to keep him steady and conscious.

Back at the ranch, you lay him down on the stomach and tend to his wounds as best as you can. Arthur rides into Blackwater right after to get the town's doctor. Uncle's pained screams and groans fill the room and you do your hardest to stay composed.

"You'll get through this, old man.", John says, directed at him.

---

A couple more months pass. Uncle's back is fully healed now and John has his ranch up and running. You and him are standing infront of his house and going over a contract when you hear the familiar rattling of wagon wheels. His expression changes from focused to utter shock when his eyes land on the two people driving in.

It's Abigail and Jack and you can't fight the grin that spreads from cheek to cheek when you watch him run up to them. You avert your gaze, giving their reunion some privacy. A couple moments later, a shadow is being cast over you and you look up to meet Abigail, who pulls you into a hug.

"How'd you like the place?", you ask, watching her as she takes everything in.

She looks like someone has handed her all the riches in the world on a silver platter. That is probably exactly what she's experiencing right now.

"It's amazing. I-" She turns to you. "John wrote in his letter that you and Arthur have been a great help."

"Of course."

Everything after that goes by slow, but in a peaceful and comfortable way. You manage to organize a partnership between John and Agnes' father, the shopkeeper in Blackwater. The ranch is booming with business and so are your stables.

Abigail's and John's wedding are a perfect way to finish it all off, only that you're forced to part ways with your friends again. Shortly after all that, Charles leaves for Canada. That already has your eyes well up, but Sadie's departure has both tears and snot practically shooting out of you.

"Oh can't you stay?", you ask through sobs and you watch her get emotional as well.

"There's nothin' left here for me."

You understand. Of course you do. Although she has become somewhat of a sister to you, you know that she has never been truly happy after losing Jake.

Arthur holds you close that night, not letting go for a single moment. His rough thumbs brush the tears away and he kisses you until your lips are red and swollen. Parting ways with her hurt, but you manage. Many years pass and you continue living a comfortable live with Arthur right by your side.

---

1934

It's a beautiful day out. The bowl hat on your head shields your eyes from the sun, but you still have to squint to see better. It's odd being back at where you started in that now old body of yours. Memories of a time long ago flood your mind, as you pass the streets of your old neighborhood.

Before taking the journey upon yourself, you were worried that you might not know the way anymore. How foolish. Of course you know the way. You have walked it in your mind and dreams many times. After turning a few corners and crossing the street a couple times, you stop at a door.

Doubts cross your mind, but you know it's important that you do this. Will he be furious? Surely. Will he yell at you? Definitely. But do you have to sit through it to stop him from bringing you back? Absolutely.

You would have almost forgotten about it, if you hadn't looked at the newspaper Arthur reads every morning. The date and year have hit you like a freight train and you had rushed out of the house, leaving your husband confused and worried. Though he trusts you and knows better than to question your odd behavior, knowing you have been this way since you first met.

Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell and wait. It only takes a few seconds, but to you it feels like years are passing until you're being greeted with a face you haven't seen in ages. The smile on your lips is awkward and unsure, as you stand before him, a graying and scarred woman.

"Hello, Francis."