Discover Top Posts Tagged with #dad hosea

Meant to Be

Over the span of a relationship, a lot can happen. Things keep happening even after that span is over.

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader - mildly NSFW, failed pregnancy

Word Count: 14.1k

The sun poking through the cracks of your tent opening, despite the tight knots that held them closed, was a grim reminder that the world was still spinning, and a new day had begun. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, the crisp spring air filling your lungs once you inhale again. You glance at the wilted flowers adorning the vase on your table, another reminder that time was passing.

With a kick to the warm covers enveloping your chamise-clad self, you were up. Deciding against pants today, you pull on your skirts, which did not happen often. Not that you had anything against a nice skirt, you just knew you could keep up much better in a well-worn pair of jeans. Another plus side of pants was hearing the snide comments from people you did not care one bit about, they made you laugh. You looked in your mirror, wiping a hand over your eyes and handling your bed head. A deep breath in, and a deep breath out, and out of the tent you went.

"Well look at you Miss y/l/n! You're looking as beautiful as ever." Tilly exclaimed, chuckling a bit, and patting your arm. You return a smile to her "Oh stop," you said, waving a hand at her, "this isn't anything special." "Nonsense, you look great. Are you sticking around camp today?" She questions, "Yep, can't be evading the law in this old thing." You brush your skirt a bit, turning your head to the voice of Miss Grimshaw, "Ladies, I don't believe anything happens whilst you stand there and chit chat." Tilly rolls her eyes, "C'mon y/n, you can help me with the washing." You nod and follow her to the wagon where she and the rest of the women of the camp slept.

For the first morning in a while, you didn't check if his horse was there, didn't search for his presence in camp. It almost felt normal. Talking and doing the chores with Tilly felt good, and it kept your thoughts off him. That was until you picked up a certain someone's shirt, a shirt you bought him. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you held the soft material. Noticing your sudden silence, Tilly glanced up and noticed the shirt. She put her hand over yours, "I can wash that." Tilly offered, taking it gently as you agreed. You took a moment to sit up, leaning back on your calves.

A gruff voice made you look up from your lap, "Well who do we have here. y/n, might I say, that skirt fits you a lot better than that sad puppy look you've had on your face the past while. Maybe now that you're up and at em', and away from him, we can plan a little getaway." The unpleasant tone of voice came from non-other than Micah Bell, who was also in the act of leaning backwards to observe your backside. You stood up, "Micah, I suggest you turn right around and crawl back into whatever corner of Hell you came from." You snapped angrily, causing a few gang members to look over at the scene. Young Lenny, who was closest to you and Tilly, busted out laughing. "Sour bitch." Snarled Micah before moving on. You huffed, your face feeling hot, "Um, please excuse me, Miss Jackson, I just, need a moment." She nodded in understanding

Tilly didn't notice the tears gathering in your eyes, neither did Micah, or Lenny. But Arthur did. Arthur always noticed you. Even when you truly thought he didn't. Sitting at a table, he watched you from across the camp, a half-empty tin of lukewarm coffee in his hands. He looked down at the black liquid. You two had always made fun of each other for the way you made your coffee, Arthur kept his simple, nothing added, "bitter, just like you, Morgan” you would say with a laugh while handing him his coffee. But you liked sugar in yours, too much in his opinion. He scoffed at himself and dumped the coffee. When he looked back up, you were out of sight.

Arthur always felt like a fool when he spent his time trying to figure out where you were and what you were doing. You weren't together anymore; he didn't need to do that. Somehow, he always did though. His name pulled him out of his head, "Morgan." John tipped his hat at him, sitting down on the chair adjacent from Arthur. "Marston." He greeted back, lighting up a smoke afterwards. "How are things between you and y/n?" John questioned, "Haven't really spoken to her since, well, y'know." Arthur shrugged, John also lit up a cigarette, watching Abigail walk past, "What about you and Abigail?" Arthur asked John, "Oh I don't know, always something with that woman." John scoffed and Arthur noticed Abigail's head whip around to the two of them at John's comment, causing him to chuckle and stand up. He took that as his cue to leave.

He walked back to his wagon, grabbing his hat and second gun out of his chest. As he held open the top, it felt like the little green box made eye contact with him first. It wasn't an engagement ring, neither of you had been quite ready for that. He shut the chest with a bit more force than necessary. Seeing the box made him wonder where you had put the ring. He knew you no longer wore it, maybe you had thrown it somewhere, maybe sold it, or kept it somewhere safe, yet out your view. Thinking about that also caused him to think back to when he gave it to you.

◊

A day away from the Van der Linde crew was just what the both of you needed right now. Not that things were going badly, things with the gang were good at the moment. It was just that there was nowhere to share a quiet moment within the confines of camp. Today, both of you rode on Boadicea, "I thought riding side saddle wasn't your thing Miss y/l/n?" You laughed, "It's not, I just couldn't be bothered to move much today." Arthur returned the laugh. You leaned on his shoulder and shut your eyes, the breeze feeling too nice not to. Arthur smiled to himself, he genuinely thought life could not get much better than this.

Arthur pulled his mare to a stop, patting her neck and getting off after you had hopped down. He grabbed the wool blanket from the saddle, laying it under the shady canopy of a large oak tree that you two had decided was the destination for today. Arthur sat down and leaned against the great tree's trunk, pulling out his journal. You were laid close but not touching him. On your stomach, feet in the air, and a book in hand. You were the most wonderful sight that Arthur had ever laid eyes on, especially like this, without a care in the world.

"She looks so peaceful, I'd like to see her like this more." Arthur wrote on the cream-coloured pages of his journal, following that with a rough sketch of your position and the meadow beyond you. He flips through past pages, the edges ripped and soft from use. The multiple drawings of you and your features made him smile. That's one thing Arthur noticed the most with you, he'd never felt himself smile so much. When first you came into his life years ago, the foreign pull of those muscles which caused his mouth to curve up, felt odd. For so much of life, it felt like he'd worn a frown. You were always smiling, well, when you weren't practically leading the group through the messes you all created. He knew how much you would help the gang when he witnessed you showing Dutch and Hosea your shooting skills when you were both a bit younger, and the gang was smaller.

Growing bored of reading, you saved your page with the fancy bookmark you had 'found' and swung yourself up, moving to lay your head in Arthur's lap. He looked down at you, not missing a beat as he was already running his fingers through your hair. You sighed contently, watching some rabbits scurry in and out of the taller patches of grass. "I have something for you," Arthur says softly, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere. "Don't get the wrong idea from it though, I don't wanna scare you," He chuckles, "I saw it and it made me think of you." Reaching into his satchel which he had abandoned on the blanket, he grabbed hold of the little green box. You move down a little on his legs, simultaneously turning around to face his stomach. He hands the box to you. After looking up at him with eyebrows that were knitted together in confusion, you open the box.

The pure joy you expelled at the sight of the dainty ring could have cheered up the saddest of men. You frantically sit up and slide it onto your index finger. Your next movement was grabbing hold of Arthur's cheeks and pulling him into a kiss. He laughed against your lips, and then settled down, bringing his hand up to the side of your head to cup your jaw. He deepened the kiss somewhat and you both melted into each other. After what felt like a beautiful eternity, you pulled away, a blush very apparent on your cheeks. "Arthur, thank you, I love it, almost as much as I love you." "I love you too sweet pea, so much." Arthur took your hand with the ring into his, kissing the back of it.

◊

You fought yourself on the choice of whether to leave again for the day or not. You couldn't, it was making you seem weak, you were anything but weak. You rubbed your temples once more and got up from your seat on the edge of camp. You would tough it out. You took notice of Tilly gone from the wash bins, feeling guilty for leaving. You rubbed your hands together awkwardly. With no big jobs currently running, there was no reason for you to go out and shoot and rob, you would have to find another distraction for now. You walked over to Dutch's tent, checking the schedule for guard duty. Tonight, was Javier. You made quick work of asking to take his shift. "You don't want anything in return mi amor?" Javier asked, very grateful for your offer, you chuckled, "No, no need, just feeling gracious today." He thanked you and back you went at the call of Miss Grimshaw to help prepare tonight's dinner.

Arthur watched you talking to Javier, shaking off the twinge of jealously he felt. He decided it was time for a ride in order to clear his head. He informed Hosea that he was leaving on his way to his horse, he then mounted Boadicea. His gaze fell upon your senior horse, Cisco. That old boy and you had taken care of each other for a long time now, he looked back down at the leads of his horse, spurring her into a trot out of camp. After riding for a short while, Arthur thought he could get a little hunting in to take his mind off you, and feed everybody while he was at it. He took out his bow, looking out at the field he spotted a small group of deer grazing, occasionally lifting their heads to check their surroundings. Arthur dismounted and got to it. Back at camp, you had just finished cutting up all the vegetables for the daily stew. You wiped your hands and continued making yourself useful as Miss Grimshaw would say.

By the time Arthur returned, the sun was setting, and he came with two deer’s worth of meat, and a few turkeys to boot. Pearson was more than happy with Arthur's bounty. You had gotten comfortable by the fire, you talked to Mary-Beth. "You must read this book I have y/n, it's about a love from different sides of a hierarchy, it's quite dramatic." Mary-Beth spoke with the usual passion when talking about stories, she leaned closer to you to say, "And the man sounds so dreamy, it's a shame the men around here aren't more like him." You let out a snort, laughing as Sean came by to ask what the noise that you just let you was all about. "I don't think I've eva' heard such a sound, y/n!"

"Oh, here comes the Englishman. Evenin' Mr. Morgan." Sean cheered as Arthur sat in one of the chairs across the fire. "Hi, Sean." Arthur said, lifting a spoonful of stew to his mouth. You had stopped laughing, smiling even. Mary-Beth hummed and tried to say more about the book, her words trailing off as she took note of the awkwardness making itself present. You stood up a tad suddenly, startling her. "I'm off to guard duty, have a good night you guys." With a quick turn, you were out of Arthur's sightline once again. He coughed a little and glanced at Mary-Beth and Sean, who were both looking at him.

The whole gang had felt the effects of your breakup. Everybody adored you and Arthur together, you guys just made sense. When you guys first announced your relationship as teenagers, Dutch made a big spectacle of it. "Never have I known two people greater..." The once moustachless-man went on and on.

◊

"Let us celebrate this young love with a party, shall we?" Dutch finished, earning a cheer from the gang, which was a fair bit smaller back then. Everybody quickly had drinks in hand, John laughed in triumph as Bill handed him the winnings of the bet that John had won on you two getting together. Some people began singing the usual songs, Uncle inappropriately clapping young Arthur on the back at one bit of a dirty rhyme, causing him to groan and blush a little. Tilly gushed as she spoke to you off at the side of the whole affair. "Oh my gosh y/n! How did he ask you to be his lover?" She giggled with you as you told her all the details.

Hosea was sat next to Arthur by the fire, the environment a lot calmer now, the only noticeable noise amongst the chatting being one of Dutch's crackly sounding records. "You better treat her good Arthur, you hear?" Hosea says, catching Arthur's attention, he nodded quickly and responded, "Of course Hosea." Miss Grimshaw walked up to the fire, sitting on the other side of Arthur, "And for God's sake, try not to get her pregnant." Miss Grimshaw's words caught your attention, you then cried out, "Oh my god Miss Grimshaw!" Causing everybody but you and Arthur to laugh.

As the teasing cooled down and the normal conversation resumed, you and Arthur had nonchalantly as possible moved next to one another. You sat quite comfortably while you listened to one of Hosea's stories, your arms wrapped around one of Arthur's, and your head leaning on his shoulder. The gramophone was playing quietly as a few people had gone off to bed. That didn't stop you from pulling Arthur up by the hand, going around to the other side of Dutch's tent, away from the eyes of others. Before Arthur could ask what you were doing you placed his hands on your waist and put yours around his neck. He blushed, not visible to you as he still stood about a head taller than you. You both swayed softly, and you laughed joyously as Arthur spun you around, pulling you back against his chest.

"Who knew the gruff and tough Arthur Morgan could dance so well with a lady?" You asked, smiling up at him, he chuckled, quipping back with, "I didn't know I was dancing with a lady." You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

Back over at the fire, Dutch and Hosea were each enjoying a cigar, when Hosea noticed the movement of you and Arthur out of the corner of his eye. "Look at that Dutch." Dutch moved his gaze to where Hosea mentioned, a smile settling on his face. "They've always been sweet on each other." Hosea speaks again and Dutch responds, "I know, seems like it was meant to be."

◊

You're pulled out of your daydreams at the rustle of a bush, you pick up your rifle, sighing as a black squirrel runs out and then up a tree. You shake your head to try and wake yourself, stretching out your legs. You hum a tune quietly, kicking at the ground. The boredom of watch duty begins to set in, and you start to wonder why the hell you did this to yourself. A throat clearing causes you to turn around and look at the source, the one and only, Arthur Morgan.

You purse your lips together, not sure what to do, "Can I help you?" You inquire, meeting his eyes. "I just, uh, couldn't sleep, thought maybe we could talk." "Okay..." You reply, taking a seat on the large rock at your watch post. You pull your coat closer as the chilly night's wind whips past you, Arthur sits next to you, but not too close.

◊

You were both sitting on Arthur's cot, the curtains shut. You picked at your nails, unsure of what to say. "I think we should end things." You say, looking over at him, your face beginning to feel flush as you held back the tears. He takes a deep inhalation, his whole body going tense. Things hadn't been the same lately. You fought, and you barely spent any time together, and when you did, it certainly did not feel like it used to. "Okay." He said a bit colder than you were prepared for. It scared you a little. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, y/n?" Arthur rebutted, the tears now forcing their way out of your eyes, falling over your cheeks. "After all this time together, that's all you have to say to me now that it's over?" You further scrutinized, growing more upset. "Damnit y/n, what do you expect? That I'm happy about this?" Arthur raised his voice slightly, pulling out a cigarette. You shook your head, "You're a bastard Arthur Morgan, you really are."

You continued arguing for some time, over this, and then over that. Taking turns being the ones with their tail between their legs. At some point you had finally had enough, storming out with tears still sliding down your face.

◊

"I miss you." Arthur spoke first. Your mouth felt quite dry all of a sudden, and your natural response just fell from your lips, "I miss you too." You felt his gaze, it was heavy. You weren't ready to look at him yet, choosing to look at the rifle leaned against the rock next to you. He looked down at you, the guilt of causing your sorrow rising in the pit of his stomach once again. Even though you had both agreed to break it off, it still hurt both of you a lot.

Arthur can still remember about a month ago when he walked past your tent rather early in the morning and heard you weeping. The sound made his heart break even more. He chose to take his emotions out on the open land, hunting a lot more, robbing a lot more as well. The extra money and food kept the rest of the gang happy and not pitying the two of you all the time.

"Do you think we could ever make it work again?" You ask, almost in a mumble, Arthur responds with, "Dutch always said it was meant to be, right?" "But do you think it was meant to be, Arthur?" You sniffle, holding back your emotions, finally breaking, and making eye contact with him, "Do we think this was meant to be?"

-

The conversation between you and Arthur that night on the rock did not end how you two thought it would. An inkling of hopefulness bloomed in your hearts as you sat together once again.

"Do we think this was meant to be?" You asked, looking at him in the eye, the same bright blue eyes that you had found comfort in for so many years prior. What replaced that comfort for you was discontent. And he felt the same.

Arthur shook his head solemnly. "I guess not." He spoke in a low voice, but the words still fell out with his familiar Southern drawl. You nodded, pulling up one of your legs to rest your head on your knee. "I want to get along. I don't want everybody to pick sides, at the end of the day we're still part of the same team. Living this life for same reason." You said, your gaze slipping back to the ground, not afraid to look at him, but finding more comfort in the mossy forest floor than his blue eyes. "Of course." He finished, scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was uncomfortable. Arthur left you there without another word, so unsure of what to say that he said nothing. He asked himself what you are supposed to say to somebody you once held at night, somebody you loved more than anything in the world, but no longer. Hosea would probably know. But not him.

You were unsure of what to say at the moment as well. How do you bid somebody farewell that you used to dance with? Somebody who has shown you parts of their heart others aren’t allowed to see. You didn't cry. The silence still didn't quite feel like closure to that interaction, but it was something.

That night felt slower than they usually did for you. The past month or so you only noticed how fast time went. Your mind wandered to the dry, crumbly, flowers still sitting on your bedside. Flowers that you picked for yourself to attempt making your tent feel like yours. It didn't work very well. Arthur's wagon had been your resting place for so long before, and you felt familiar with the items decorated around what was his and no longer yours too. The vase on your table was missing the photo of Arthur's mother, and the books you two read together. The vase looked lonely without them. Just how you and Arthur looked without each other. The day that vase found a permanent place on Arthur's bedside table was a happy one.

◊

"Why don't you just stay here?" Arthur spoke, muffled by the side of your head as he placed kisses there. "Well, I wasn't planning on leaving, especially like this." You laughed softly and motioned to the bare state that you found yourself in while lying next to him. He laughed, moving his kisses down from your head to your jaw, and then to your shoulder as he replied, "What I meant was, you should just take down your tent, move your things in here." "I think I would quite like that Mr. Morgan." You ran your fingers through his sandy blonde hair, making it look no better. "I love you." You spoke again, "I love you too, Miss y/l/n." You let out what could only be described as a giggle as Arthur then kissed his way down to your body.

The next morning, the both of you moved all your things to his wagon and began making it look like a place shared between the two of you. You picked up the vase from your trunk, examining the fine crystal. You decided it would look nice on Arthur's table, it looked out of place really, but there it would stay. Along with the vase, your few pictures made their way up along Arthur's, your books stacked under and over his, both of your clothes folded together. Upon seeing the vase, Arthur got an idea to welcome you to, officially, staying together.

He wandered off outside of camp, keeping his eyes peeled for flowers that would suit the empty vase. With a small bouquet collected, fit for the crystal piece, he headed back. Now the sight of Arthur Morgan holding a bouquet is an odd one, and Bill had the pleasure of seeing that. "Oh, Morgan!" He nearly doubled over in laughter, Arthur rolled his eyes, "That woman has you in a chokehold!" Arthur ignored him, making his way to the wagon to put the flowers in the vase. Arthur could see you talking to Tilly from the wagon. You looked so, well, Arthur couldn't think of the right word, but it was genuine. Genuinely invested in this gang and its many affairs, genuinely caring about what others had to say, genuinely in love with Arthur. An attribute that he was familiar with because even though he didn't recognize it, he was also genuine, in the exact same ways as you.

He sat on his, no, your shared cot. Smiling at the sight of your items already perfectly entangled with his. You finished your conversation with Tilly, cleaning up your dish from dinner and walking over to the wagon. Your gaze was pulled to the beautiful arrangement of wildflowers filling the vase, you smiled, per usual, and sat next to Arthur, your leg touching his. "They're beautiful," you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder, "thank you, Arthur."

◊

You stared at the few flowers in the pages of your old journal, now sitting on the side of your own cot. The flowers were pressed flat, and their colour almost completely faded. The date Arthur put them in the vase was written on the corner of the page. Accompanying the first bouquet in the journal was the next bouquet he surprised you with, and the next...

You were dead tired after guard duty, not acclimated to the late hours like the usual night watches were. The empty vase was the last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered close for a while. "I'm worried about that poor girl." Miss Grimshaw said to Hosea, the first two people awake in camp. "She's strong, Susan, we know that." Hosea replied, taking a sip of his coffee afterwards, she nodded, pursing her lips together in a frown, looking at your lonely little tent, just as he was too.

Arthur had barely slept a wink that night. Your words still processing, "Do we think this was meant to be?" He wrote in his journal and he drew a picture of you from yesterday, the skirt you impulsively put on, and the awkward hands you kept held together in front of you all day. He snapped the book closed, getting up and preparing for the day ahead of him, which felt like it would include more than a few drinks at the saloon in town.

Climbing on Boadicea, he put on his hat and rode off without a word to anybody. It was pretty sad that at this early in the morning, he felt like a strong drink. He shook those thoughts away, not letting them discourage him. To distract himself, he began to sing a tune to himself, letting Boadicea's hoof trots be the beat. The vast land of the West was empty from what his eyes could see, the only thing surrounding him was nature. He found comfort in nature; he could feel however he wanted to because there was nobody but him to decide how he could to feel. That ended sooner than he hoped though because before long he was in the middle of a busy town, bustling with people who looked just as tired as him. The saloon wasn't far, he hitched up and waltzed inside. The bartender didn't give him a second glance as he ordered a whiskey this early in the day, more than used to the mopey cowboys that wandered into his saloon.

Arthur looked around the place, antlers of all sorts and sizes decorating the walls, countless candles that probably once stood alive and aflame, but were now lifeless and lightless pools of wax. The only people in the joint were men sadder than him, a few of them asleep at the tables. He sighed, fiddling with his empty shot glass. Arthur sat there for hours, drinking slowly as to not get wasted. By the time lunch rolled around, the bar was a bit livelier, and Arthur kept himself resident at one of the many tables. Facing the door, he watched all sorts of people walk in. A man that looked he had just finished a job that entailed harder work than what he was being paid for, a man and woman that looked like they hadn't worked a day in their lives. It was then that he made eye contact with a lone woman that walked in. Her brown hair was neatly tied back in a low bun, and she was wearing a simple yet elegant deep blue dress. Arthur stopped sipping his beer midway to stare back at her.

It was now the late afternoon, and back at camp, you had just awoken. You haphazardly freshened yourself up, changing into a pair of pants and a button-up. As you scooped some food into your bowl, you overhead Dutch grumble that Arthur had been gone all day. You glance over to see Boadicea gone as if to confirm what he had just said.

The soft sound of Javier strumming his guitar was what filled your ears as you sat by the main campfire. "How are you doing mi amor? How was night watch?" Javier's words pulled you out of your trance, looking over at him as they did. "Oh, it was fin- oh what am I saying? It was horrible, I don't think I can do that to myself again." Javier laughed at your words, "It takes some getting used to, that's for sure." You smiled at him as he spoke, turning your attention back to the crackling fire. Two other members of the gang caught your attention, it was John leading Abigail into his tent, quickly tying the curtains shut after. You chuckled to yourself. Their on-and-off relationship was always amusing. But you did feel bad for Abigail whenever John was truly being an ass, which you had always tried to tell him when he was being one. Arthur did too. You hoped that they would work out.

◊

A blind man could see the way John was looking at Abigail, you gave him a shove, "Marston, stop staring like some sort of hungry dog, she's not a piece of meat." He batted you away, "Shut up y/n, you're just upset that I'm not looking at you like that." John joked, you laughed loudly before telling him, "Just go talk to her, she's very kind." "Maybe I will." He said with a cocky tone. He finished the rest of his drink before standing up and making his way over to her. You crossed your arms and watched him approach her, you were unable to hear his scratchy voice or her replies, but you figured things were going okay by the way she laughed and blushed.

"Is he finally talking to Miss Roberts?" Arthur asked he come up from behind, wrapping an arm around your waist. You nodded happily, "Yes, it looks like he's doing pretty alright too." You told Arthur, kissing his cheek.

You, Arthur, and John were the original proteges of the Van der Linde gang, Dutch and Hosea were the ones to teach you all how to read and write, and how to be proper criminals. John had always felt like a teammate, the relationship between you and Arthur always felt like something different, something more than partners in crime. And you were more than that as time proved. The odd family portrait on Arthur's wagon was always your favourite, two crooks and three children who were quickly turning into crooks themselves. Those two old crooks found you when you were about eleven. Your mother had died of scarlet fever a few years prior, and due to that, your father became a no-good drunk. He usually disappeared for the night, but you had been alone for a few days now, and you didn't know what to do. With your dirty dress, knotted hair, and empty stomach, you left your house and wandered the streets in hopes of finding some food.

You had been trying to get some food for a while now, you were shooed away from the restaurants and kicked out of the nicer bar in town. Your last hope was the run-down bar on the corner, your dad spent a lot of time there. The bartender was absent which made it easy to slide into the place, and its few patrons were far too drunk to notice you. Looking around, your gaze fell upon two smartly dressed men standing at the bar. You couldn't help but notice the gold pocket watch chain hanging out of the taller of the two men's waistcoats. You could steal that no problem, you had seen your father steal things plenty of times, once you did it you could buy yourself some food.

Well, that didn't exactly work out so well, the man you would soon come to know as to Dutch Van der Linde, caught you immediately, grabbing your small hand and giving you quite a scare. But the two men went on to talk to you like a human being, not a street rat like everybody else did before. They bought you a hot meal, some new clothes, and brought you back to their camp where Hosea's wife, Bessie, and Dutch's girlfriend at the time, Miss Grimshaw, cleaned you up. You knew they weren't good men, but they were good to you, and they were the only reason you didn't fade away into an empty life. You quickly became the new pride and joy of the gang, which was only a few members strong at the time, including Arthur, who within a few years become your first crush.

◊

"Evening Miss y/l/n, how are you?" The deep voice of Dutch caught your awareness away from your wandering mind, "Oh, hi Dutch, I'm doing alright, can I help you with something?" You said, smiling at him, "Why yes you can my dear, Trelawny has just informed me of a high society party, and I know how you enjoy those." You chuckled at his sarcasm, "Will some people's pockets feel a little light leaving the party, Dutch?" You questioned, and he nodded in return. "It's not a big job, just a few people going." "Well count me in."

Arthur returned that night with a faint blush on his face, smiling too. His day was spent with the woman he saw in the bar, Mary Gillis, he had a great time with her, and planned to see her again soon. You watched him walk to his wagon, the elation on his face hurting your feelings some.

Dressed in your finest jewels and dress a few days later, you walked into the party alongside Mary-Beth and Hosea. You two would pose as Hosea's adoptive daughters that night, while he acted like a successful businessman from Europe. The party was taking place in was the most beautiful house you had ever seen. High ceilings adorned with shining crystal chandeliers, floors so spotless you could almost see your reflection in them, and the wealthiest of people filling the space. As you looked around, your eyes were caught on a man that looked right back at you. He was quite handsome, you smiled sheepishly at him, turning away, and taking champagne that one of the butlers had offered you. You thanked him and made your way over to a flock of the rich men's wives, where you had spotted Mary-Beth faking a laugh as she slipped a beautiful bracelet into her bag.

"I'm Vivienne Cromwell, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Thatcher." You had already begun a conversation with one of the women, introducing your alias. She went on and on about her husband's business, you began to grow bored, another woman who was only an extension of her husband. After she pointed to the man that was her husband, you kept your eye on him as he slid his hand around another woman's waist. You now started to pity Mrs. Thatcher as you half-listened to what she had to say, but that didn't last long as somebody else caught your attention. It was Arthur, and he had a woman wrapped around his arm, they were laughing and then he kissed her. It felt like your heart dropped into your stomach. What was he doing here? And who was that woman? "Miss. Cromwell?" Mrs. Thatcher's irritating voice brought you back. "Hm, oh yes, uh please excuse me." You explained before rushing down the hall to find a powder room.

Locking the door, the tears began to fall from your eyes. Already? He had moved on already. You stared at yourself in the mirror, the piano playing and the sound of people laughing and talking sounded like they were miles away. You wiped your tears away. You refused to be Mrs. Thatcher. You refused to be seen as nobody without Arthur. You were somebody. You made the decision then to take this new information with stride and move the hell on.

◊

"Arthur, I look terrible." You turned to him; you were fifteen at the time. Arthur was seventeen, and you couldn't be near him without getting butterflies so bad they almost made you sick. You were wearing a dress that Dutch had picked out for a job that he and Hosea were leading. He laughed, "Aw, c'mon y/n, its... It's not that bad." He lied straight through his teeth. The great big dress did not suit your style in the slightest, you wished that you could've chosen one yourself, or even Miss Grimshaw, but Dutch insisted that he would do a fine job. And God, that thing was itchy. You adjusted the neckline again and fixed your hair again, and for the first time, you were not very excited to go out on a job. "Why don't you and John have to wear silly outfits?" You pondered aloud, looking at Arthur laying on your bed behind you. "Because we aren't doing the distraction, we're doing the robbing." "Well next time I'm making sure you're both the distraction and I'm the one robbing. Maybe you and John can wear jester suits."

The job went off without a hitch, with a bag full of cash, you all made your way back to the camp, ready to celebrate. The adrenaline from the robbery combined with nervous butterflies was a lot to manage, but you acted your part beautifully. Later on, you were sat at one of the tables, watching Hosea and Bessie dance to Dutch's gramophone, he and Annabelle were also dancing. You laid on your arms, so content, and exhausted that your eyes were beginning to shut. A tap from John on your shoulder stirred you, "y/n, nice acting today, you did good." "Thanks, you did well too." You smiled, not bothering to raise your head, you look at him as he sits down next to you. John sipped his drink, fiddling with his hat which he had thrown onto the table. He sighed heavily, looking into the neck of his empty bottle before speaking again, "Arthur's in love with you y'know." He states, your silence causing him to look back down at you. What he saw was you asleep, your arms still acting as a pillow, and little puffs of air leaving your nose. He chuckled, standing up and wandering off to wherever again.

Arthur noticed you asleep at the table not long after John had left you. He smiled at the sight of you fast asleep there, still wearing your big puffy dress. He was in love with you. He hadn't admitted it to anybody, but everybody already knew besides you of course. All of your time was spent together. Arthur carried you to bed, your half-asleep mind and mouth mumbling incoherent things to him while he did. He kissed your forehead as he laid you down in your cot, "Goodnight y/n, sweet dreams."

◊

You held your fourth or fifth flute of champagne up to your eye, the shape of the glass making the room and the people in it look contorted. You smiled at the sight that wasn't true, but you did not smile at the sight of Arthur and his new girl, which was a true sight. Mary-Beth had seen them, Hosea too, they both gave you apathetic looks the whole night. But truthfully, you didn't care anymore.

The man from the start of the night also continued to look at you, he approached you with his hand extended. "Hello there, I'm Benjamin Pierce, who are you?" You shook his hand, smirking with amusement at his proper European accent, "Vivienne Cromwell." You responded and his eyes lit up slightly, "Oh you're Mr. Cromwell's daughter that he mentioned." You smiled bigger; a tad disappointed as you realized Hosea had already robbed Mr. Pierce blind. "Well Miss Cromwell, you certainly are the belle of the ball tonight if I do say so." You laughed along with him as Mr. Pierce continued entertaining you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Hosea speaking to Arthur and the girl you had yet to learn the name of. You felt embarrassed when Arthur made direct eye contact with you, he shyly turned back to his new beau. You learned that Benjamin actually was sort of interesting, he hadn't come from daddy's money like every other person at this party. He did it all himself and even though he was a bit stuck up for your taste, you agreed to see him again for dinner and a show soon. Arthur on the other hand, couldn't stop observing you while you spoke to Benjamin. He was having a great time with Mary, he couldn't get enough of her, but it was a force of habit that made him watch you so attentively. He knew very well how these entitled city folk could be, and he didn't want you to get into a bad situation. Mary noticed that his eyes would wander over to you every once and a while, rightfully so it made her feel uncomfortable. "Do you know her too?" She asked right as his gaze moved to you again, "Huh? Oh, um yeah, she works with me as well." He explained, using the same story he did for Hosea and Mary-Beth. Mary wasn't stupid though. She knew whatever 'business' Arthur the coworkers of his that she'd been introduced to were apart of, wasn't a lawful business.

You, Hosea, and Mary-Beth all left. You decided to take the long way back, assuring Hosea you wouldn't fool around. You wandered the empty streets of the town for a while, stopping to look at the shop window display, a crash from an alleyway caused you to almost jump out of your skin. You mounted back up on Cisco, squinting into the dark to try and identify the sound. Out walked a few kids, they were wearing dirty clothes and looked tired, and hungry. You relaxed seeing they were no threat. "Hey there." You said to them, digging into your side bag for something. They looked at you and stopped walking, but didn't respond. You told the oldest looking of them to catch as you threw him an expensive watch. "Go get yourselves fed and cleaned up." You said before picking up your reigns and heading home.

Arthur and Mary watched the whole scene unfold, stopped in their tracks on their way back to Mary's house. "That was nice of her. I've seen those kids around before." She spoke after the children were no longer in earshot. "Yeah, it was." He breathed out, the dull ache in his heart once again making itself present.

-

It had been years since things ended between you and Arthur now, it didn't feel awkward anymore, or make either of you upset, it was in the past now. You figured that out on the night of the party, that it was in the past. The world had done its job and continued spinning to make time move forward, and things changed, like they're supposed to.

Some things don't change though. Like, Micah was still a bastard, Uncle still liked to drink, and the gang continued making trouble wherever you went. Currently, the Van der Linde band of misfits resided outside of the pleasant town of Blackwater, and you loved it. The lake lapping at the shore was always calming, it wasn't too hot or too cold, but most of all, everybody seemed to be doing so well, including yourself.

You ended up going on a few dates with that man Benjamin Pierce and though he was nothing but a gentleman, something didn't feel right, so you ended things. After that didn't work out, you stayed single for a while, finding companionship with handsome strangers in the saloons every once and a while. It was kind of liberating not having to be committed, but after a while of that, you grew bored. Very briefly, you went out with a man named Quinn Davis, but after catching him chatting up a working girl, you didn’t see him again.

Arthur and Mary were no longer together either, they had gotten engaged, and then a disgruntle with her family happen, and they broke it off. Despite how the rest of the gang felt about her, you felt bad for Arthur. You knew how much he cared for Mary; you weren't bitter about it. You and Arthur weren't the best of friends, but once the awkwardness faded away it didn't feel so odd to talk to him. Besides, you worked well together, and things always got done whenever the both of you were involved.

◊

The tension within the gang was high, everybody was on edge because of a run-in with the law the other week. Some steam needed to be blown off, and you were determined to do something about it.

Making sure to keep quiet about it, you asked just a select group of people in the gang if they wanted to head into the next town for a drink, or two. Out of the people you asked, John, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Arthur, all decided to join. “Going to check out that new spot that you mentioned, Dutch.” You waved to him as you quickly walked to your horse, climbing on, and moseying on over to where you planned to meet everybody else. John and Arthur were already out, so they didn’t have to make up excuses like the others. You were the first one to arrive at the saloon, kicking up your feet as you waited.

The place was bustling with people, and once the others got there, there was no stopping a good night. “Sooo, what’s going on between you and Sean?” You ask Karen in a teasing tone, all of you a few drinks in already, “Nothing is going on between me and that fool! Trust me!” She slurred slightly and laughed along with the rest of you. It didn’t take long for the night to begin to blur together, in laughs, dancing, and more drinks. “y/n, do you remember that night Arthur drank so much that he tried to rob Hosea?” John asked you, wheezing so hard he could barely finish his sentence, another burst of laughter left the group of you.

The saloon's atmosphere had calmed down immensely, most people have left, or fallen asleep in their seats, the five of you having spread out some. You were sitting with Arthur at a small corner table, swaying in your drunken states and laughing at what the other had to say. “I asked Mary to be my wife, y’know.” He hiccupped and you stared blankly at him as you processed what he had just said. He interrupted the congratulations that took you a moment to try and spit out with, “I wish I got the chance to purpose to you.” You had to process his statement again, finding yourself unsure of what to say, “I would’ve -” He interrupted you again by placing his grasp under your chin and kissing you.

You pulled away, looking at him, anger bubbling in the pit that formed in your stomach. “Don’t do this now.” You said coldly, standing up and going to the bar again for a refill.

◊

“y/n, I need you and Arthur to go and have a talk with that man at the stables. See what he can tell you about old Mr. Carter.” Hosea commanded you, as you finished your coffee. With a nod and a pat on the back from him, you were up and ready to go.

Arthur was already at the horses. He fed his stallion, Memphis an apple as he rubbed his neck. Your horse, Argo, was grazing close by. “Hey there, cowboy.” You chirped, mounting up while Arthur did the same, “Mornin’, Miss y/l/n.” The two of you cantered off in the direction of town. “How have you been, I haven’t spoken to you ina’ few days.” Arthur asked, looking over at you, “A little bored, but not in a bad way, a relaxing type of bored.” He laughed at your return. You caught his loitering smirk afterwards, looking back down to fiddle with your saddle horn.

“Partner, I just need you to tell me where Mr. Carter lives, that’s the last thing and then we’ll be on our way.” Arthur spoke with growing irritation towards the peculiar man in front of him. The man shook his head, pursing his lips before repeating what he had been saying for the past five minutes, “I told you I don’t know a Mr. Carter, nuh-uh, nothin’ I can do for you.” “Edward Carter, you know him, you just told us all about he bought a horse from you last week.” You explained, putting your hat back on that you had taken off out of frustration. “Oh yeah! That fella!” He exclaimed.

◊

“Can’t you just stay here and keep your gun on the guard? I’ll go n’ do the talking.” Arthur pleaded, pulling up his bandana after, “No Arthur, you stay here and keep your gun on the guard, I can handle it.” You countered, shooting him a glare, “I know you can honey, but your leg hasn’t he-” You waved a hand at him, sticking with your choice to lead this robbery, and walking out into the road with the stagecoach coming into view.

You tugged up your bandana and pulled out your revolver. “Afternoon gentlemen!” You began, a grin hid away under the cloth currently concealing the lower half of your face. Arthur shook his head, impressed with your ambition but cursing the showmanship attitude that you’ve graciously adopted from Dutch and Hosea. “I will only be forced to use this gun if I receive any hassle from you lot, and with that, I ask for the money.” You lifted the revolver to the driver, making a sight of pulling out your second one to point at the man within the coach. “Like hell, get lost, little missy.” The guard sitting next to the driver barked, raising his gun right back at you. Arthur noticed the movement of his finger on the trigger, making a clean shot before that could happen. The two other men yelped, climbing out of the coach as quickly as possible. You huffed at the pain growing in your injured leg while you climbed up to get the stacks of money.

“I could’ve handled him, Arthur, I knew he was gonna shoot.” You scolded, looking over at him on Boadicea, “Sweet pea I know you could’ve handled him any other time, but what if you couldn’t move out of the way in time because of that leg of yours.” You bit back your smile, lowering your look towards your saddle. “You just love me too much.” It came out as a mumble, but Arthur heard you loud and clear. He took a moment, a slight blush appearing on his already sun-kissed cheeks, “I suppose I do love you too much.” Arthur said and you paused, deciding to make eye contact with him once again, “Well, I guess I love you too much too,” You both smiled at each other a moment, but the smiles turned into laughs when you rebutted, “Not so much that I won’t still beat you back to camp!” Your leg hurt much worse after that.

◊

Arthur hitched up Memphis, going to inform Hosea of the little but valuable information you had gotten off the stable man. After he did so, a commotion near the middle of camp brought him that way. To nobody’s surprise, it was Micah, talking in an obnoxious hushed yell. “Dutch this ferry is a big deal! I’ve heard fellers talkin’ about all the money on it. It’ll be here in a few days!” Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes as you placed a hand on your hip, “Dutch you know we have something serious happening with Mr. Carter.” Arthur argued, and you butted in as well, “And besides Micah, do you know anything about the boat besides that there’s money on it? We can’t run into something like that blind.” Dutch’s head whipped back and forth between the three of you, beginning to grow a bit red, “Off, with all of you, I will think of something!” He raised his voice, ushering all of you away.

Arthur shook his head, which he found doing himself doing a lot lately. There was so much to disagree with. Maybe all the shaking of his brain would scramble things back into place, he thought. Mr. Morgan pulled out his beloved journal whilst he took a seat near the water. He scribbled a few different animals he had seen today, which included an early robin who got the worm and a mud-covered pig he saw in town today. On the next page he wrote,

“I can tell Dutch is getting antsy with the money-making opportunities that keep managing to find us. It is nerve-racking having Micah Bell trying to take the wheel on this ferry job. It was nice though to take the day get some work done with y/n, she seems well. I do hope that this business that Hosea has stricken up with Mr. Carter gets us somewhere.”

Meanwhile, you were sitting with little Jack Marston, assisting him with his reading. “Sound out the word like Hosea taught you, Jack, I know you can do it.” “A-polo-guy?” He looked up at you, wondering if he was correct. “Not quite, but you’re close.” “A-polo-gy, apology!” You cheered with him, “Spot on, buddy.” You smiled up at Abagail who was watching close by, she returned the smile that she was already sporting on her face from Jack’s success. Jack’s presence in camp came at a time when everybody needed it. The whole gang was ecstatic the day he was born. Besides John, you had watched him go as white as snow.

◊

Arthur gulped after you said those four words, “I might be pregnant.” You looked at him for an answer as he rubbed the stubble growing on his face. You sighed at his lack of words, you weren’t upset, you were just as nervous as him. Arthur had only just turned 21 and you were 19, neither of you were ready for a kid because you basically were still kids yourselves. You grabbed his hand in yours gently, rubbing his palm. “Nothing is for certain yet sweetheart, a-and I’ve heard women speak about things you can make, to stop it.” You spoke in almost a whisper, partly not to further shock him and partly to not let anybody else hear. The last thing you needed was a rumour like that travelling around. Arthur got himself together, taking a deep inhale before giving your hand a squeeze and saying, “All we can do is wait, we’ll figure this out.”

You pecked his lips, he pecked yours in return. Arthur grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you tightly. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and Arthur began rubbing a firm hand up and down your back, muttering, “It’ll be okay.” To soothe you, and himself.

About a week had passed, and still nothing. And, neither of you knew exactly how you were feeling. You found yourselves laid in your shared cot once again, exhausted from another long day and happy to reconnect after being so busy that you’d barely seen each other. Arthur pulled away from your lips, smiling at you, who was smiling and blushing right back at him. You began to unbutton his union suit, furrowing your brows when he pulled away, lowering himself and lifting your nightshirt up past your stomach.

“What are you doing?” You grinned down at him. Arthur shushed you, proceeding to press his ear to your belly. “I can’t hear anything.” You laughed, running your hands through Arthur’s hair afterwards. He put a hand on your stomach, laying kisses across your skin. “You’d make a fine father, Arthur Morgan.” You whispered, causing him to look up at you, smiling bashfully. “You’d make a great mother, y/f/n.”

The following night was not so happy. You walked into yours and Arthur’s tent, biting your cheek. “You okay, sweet pea?” Arthur tilted his head, sensing your glum mood the second you walked in. “Sure,” You faced away from him, wiping your nose quickly, “I uh, got it.” He understood, “Oh, it’s okay, hey, it just wasn’t the right time,” You nodded, your eyes welling up at what you thought was his disappointment. “C’mere sweet pea, look at me.” Arthur beckoned, holding out his hands for you, continuing when you were in front of him, “It’s not a problem. Whenever we’re ready to try, we can try.”

◊

Arthur and you crept up to Mr. Carter’s small barn. It was the middle of the night, and you could see the old man passed out in his chair when you peeked into the window. It was a perfect opportunity to check if he was hiding anything. You stayed still while Arthur worked on breaking the lock silently. You closed your eyes and took a moment to listen to the crickets and frogs of the night. Your relaxation break was unfortunately cut short when you heard Arthur grunt in frustration. “Stupid lock.” “What’s the issue?” “It won’t bust, but I think I can pry this door open enough for us to slip in.” You nodded at him, taking one last look at the seemingly silent house before sliding into the barn. Arthur’s hand on your lower back made you stumble slightly upon entry, “Woah there cowgirl.” Arthur chuckled and you chose to ignore him, though you couldn’t ignore the burning blush sensation on your face.

“This looks promising.” You smile at him, motioning towards a dust-free lockbox, which caught your eye because the rest of this barn was definitely dusty. You nearly squealed when you opened it and saw the papers Hosea was missing for this job, along with a small stack of cash. You and Arthur made quick work of grabbing what you needed and getting out of there.

Gunshots. And a lot of them. “What have they done now!” Cursed Arthur as you both changed your direction from camp to town, where all the gunshots were coming from. You knew the ferry arrived at the Blackwater dock a few days ago, you even went to go see it with a few gang members, but you didn’t think Dutch was gonna hit it. You both pushed your horses, covering your faces as you got closer to town. Arthur found himself shaking his head yet again, angry that Dutch would put everybody in danger like this. You could hear Dutch, Micah, and a few other of the boy’s calls to each other from practically the other side of town.

With guns drawn, you and Arthur dive headfirst into the shootout, taking down the lawmen blocking the guy’s way out of here. Arthur hears you yell out in pain, one of the outlying officers had launched himself onto your horse and was currently trying to pull you off. All other sounds and commotion surrounding you all are cut off from him, his only priority was getting to you now. He skillfully turned Memphis around, racing up to be in line with you. Ending the man with a clean shot to the head. “Thanks!” You yelled over to him, slowing some to allow an injured Davey Callander onto the back of Argo. With a round-up call from Dutch, all of you were back off to camp, so you can get the hell out of here out of here.

◊

“Things ended with Mary.” Arthur blurts out, much like he did when he first told you they were getting married. “Oh. I’m sorry, Arthur.” You look over at him, you two were sitting in an abandoned house, waiting for the law to move on, well, three of you if you included Bill. But he fell asleep in the other room long ago. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask innocently, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel curious as to exactly why it didn’t work out. “Her father wanted nothing to do with me. Said I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.” Arthur told you, taking a swig from the bottle of rum that you had decided to split. “Suppose she didn’t want anything to do with me either if she suddenly decided to listen to that drunk.” He scoffed, taking another large drink before handing it to you to do the same.

You looked over at him, the familiar butterflies returning to your stomach, the ones you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. Arthur looked back at you, his heart thumping a bit faster in his chest, his breaths becoming intermittent. You silently placed your hand over his, words feeling causeless.

-

It was sunset and Arthur had just arrived back at camp. He could hear all of the sounds that the gang was making, Javier strumming his guitar, Pearson whistling, Molly and Dutch bickering. It all sounded like home. He climbed off Memphis, feeding him an oatcake as he did so. Arthur sat down at the campfire alongside some of the other boys. He did a look around of camp, his gaze getting caught on you. He had yet to truly admit to himself that he really did miss you. Because he did. You were nursing a coffee, no doubt trying to keep yourself awake for whatever job Dutch asked you to scout tonight. He could see the focus on your face from where he was sitting while you looked over something.

"She is something, isn't she cowpoke?" Micah cawed at Arthur, he turned himself to look at Micah, his nostrils already flared with irritation. "Too bad ya' left her. Well, not too bad for me." Arthur stood up, seeing you look over. "What is your problem?" He shoved Micah out of the way, heading to the scout campfire where he knew there would be peace and quiet. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, pulling out a cigarette for himself. Tilly noticed him alone from where she'd been sitting at the girl's wagon. She'd known the both of you for a long time now, when she first arrived you had been together for about a couple years already. She knew how well you worked together, and she also knew how much you two still needed each other.

"Evening, Arthur." Tilly greeted Arthur with a smile, "Hi, Miss Jackson." Arthur responded, putting his smoke out under his boot. "What happened with Micah over there?" Tilly questioned, fiddling with her hands, "Oh you know how he is, always running his mouth." She nodded, glancing over to where you were talking to Hosea. "Do you still care about her?" She asked, referring to you. There was no explanation on Arthur's half. He knew who she was talking about without having to ask. "Of course I do, I've known her a long time." He answered honestly, not wanting to take the question any further than what Tilly asked. She pursed her lips, playing with the fabric of her skirt. "I think you need each other, Arthur." He didn't say anything, he just looked over at you, smiling at whatever Hosea was talking about. He still cared about you, that was true, he just hadn't admitted to himself that he still really loved you.

◊

Everything was a blur of gunfire, loud voices, and haste. Cops were everywhere looking for the gang, you all had to bolt back to camp to get everybody packed up and out of there. "Miss Grimshaw, Pearson! Everybody! We have to move, now!" Dutch barked out, Arthur and Bill helping you get Davey off of the back of Argo and into the back of a wagon. But you all helped get things packed up, shoving things wherever they could fit and moving as quickly as possible. You shoved your belongings into your trunk, not batting an eye when the vase you had put fresh flowers in this morning rolled off the table, left in the dirt. "They're coming!" Javier shouted, everybody climbing onto the wagons and horses, not prepared to leave Blackwater behind.

"Go now!" Dutch shouted, the ones on horses, counting Arthur and yourself rode out, prepared to distract the incoming law. Yet another shootout began, all in the favour of the rest of the gang in the wagons. Jenny insisted that she could help shoot and you all knew that she was more than capable of doing that. But a sudden scream from her made everybody turn to look. You knew right away that she was hit. Arthur shot the last few officers, you slowed down Argo to make sure that Jenny was okay on the back of Lenny's horse. A collective nervous breath could be heard between the group.

You, John, and Javier all rode ahead. Scouting for more law. The rest of the group on horses fell behind the caravan, also making sure that no lawmen decided to follow. Arthur was on high alert, constantly trying to see the front of the group for you - the three of you, but also trying to watch his end of things. There was no noise within the group. Everybody was still too tense to speak. There was quite a bit of law to take care of, but they were no problem for you and the other boys. Your mind was racing this whole time, why would Dutch go after the ferry? Let alone without telling all of you. You also worried for Jenny, Davey, Mac, and Sean. It hurt your heart to see Lenny so distraught. You wished you could console him but right now you couldn't, you'd know what to say because you've been in his place more than once before.

◊

You gasped upon seeing Arthur slumped against Dutch on his horse. They had just raced into camp, and Dutch was yelling for some help. You felt a bit faint when a couple of the boys lifted Arthur, he was pale and there was so much blood on his clothes. After taking a seat to regain your balance, you rushed to the tent that they brought him to, trying to push in. "y/n, I think it's best you wait for us to take care of him." Miss Grimshaw said softly, placing a hand on your arm. You knew she meant well, but you didn't care to listen to her right now. You entered the tent where Abigail and Tilly were about to start stitching up what you could see was a large stab wound. "I've got it." You spoke firmly, tears brimming your eyes at the sight of him. "No honey, you're shaking." Abigail spoke calmly looking up at you from her seat. You bit your lip, deciding not to fight her, instead, you just sat on the ground at the foot of the cot. You watched them as they stitched his injury, also trying to busy your mind by taking off his boots and fiddling with your ring.

They left you with him when they finished, he was starting to look a little better. You watched his chest rise and fall, and all over again for what seemed like days but was only hours. Miss Grimshaw popped in a few times, checking his pulse, bringing you water, and dinner. You were sat on the chair pulled close to the bed, you weren't surrounded by the comforting smell of clean quilts or Arthur's pleasant scent of gunpowder and campfire, like you should be at this time. All you could smell was the alcohol used to clean him and rags covered in blood. You sighed, leaning your head against Arthur's thigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Arthur." You muttered, your tears soaking into the fabric of his union suit after they fell from your closed eyes.

With a deep breath you got up, you wanted to watch him, but you wouldn't be much help if you fell asleep. "Susan, could you take over." You asked, your voice still a bit hoarse. "Of course dear, you get some rest now." She smiled solemnly at you, going to take your place in the tent with Arthur. You ignored your gang member's sad stares while you walked to the wagon, quickly closing the drapes once you were inside. You undressed, grabbing one of Arthur's shirts to put on for the night. You put out the lantern, climbing into bed alone. A quiet plea left your lips, to whoever would listen, "Please let him be okay."

The following morning you were up with the break of daylight, two steaming cups of coffee in your hands as you entered the tent Arthur lay in. Your hopefulness melted away, he was still sleeping, but his cheeks were pink once again, this was a good sign at least. Once sat down, you ran a hand through his hair, caressing his cheek afterwards. Arthur stirred slightly and you nearly fell out of your chair. "Arthur? Hey, c'mon, wake up." You kept your voice soft, setting your coffee down on the table. You continued stroking his cheek, a smile filling your face once his eyes started to blink open. He groaned, squinting as he looked around. "What the hell happen?" He coughed out and you chuckled, tears of joy now filling your eyes. "Somebody got you pretty good there, sweetheart." You informed him, making him groan again.

You tended to your partner all day, keeping him fed and hydrated, keeping up with his doses of medicine. "Sit down there, princess, you've done more than enough for me today." Arthur laughed, patting the spot beside him. You rolled your eyes, taking a seat at Arthur's request, the only thing he'd requested all day, the rest was all you. "You scared me pretty bad, Arthur." You admitted, glancing over at him, "I know, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention to the guy, he got it worse than me though." He smirked, rubbing your palm with his thumb, you laughed, leaning down to kiss him.

◊

You huffed out in annoyance. You were growing colder, the leather coat you'd been wearing was no longer cutting it as the gang climbed up to a higher altitude. You were also annoyed because you were hungry, and tired, and overall upset. The gang had to bury poor Jenny not long ago, she didn't deserve any part of that. There wasn't snow on the ground but you could see your breath. You rubbed Argo's neck, she was growing tired too, you reached into your satchel, staring at the few sources of energy you had left, a couple sugar cubes. Some sugar wouldn't do much for you, so you leaned down and let Argo have them. The voice of Javier brought your attention up, "Dutch we have to stop for a minute, the horses are tired." You couldn't see your leader but you knew he nodded tiredly and did just that. Not only were the horses grateful for a break, you all were.

You dismounted, your muscles aching from being sat on your horse for so long. The other boys did the same. You walked to the front wagon which harboured Dutch and Hosea, Arthur was there too, presumably asking them the same things you were about to. "Dutch, where are we goin'?" Arthur asked, giving you a quick look upon your arrival, "Everybody is getting cold, and Davey isn't looking too good." He finished, taking notice of you pulling your jacket closer. Dutch shook his head, "My boy, I don't know. We will find somewhere soon enough."

And like that, the gang was moving again. The first snowflake worried you, Davey wouldn't last much longer in snow, and the ladies and Jack were shivering. You were cold too, you weren't lucky like everyone else who managed to grab their heavy jackets. Arthur fell to the back of the caravan, letting Hosea know he was going to check in on everybody. You were pulling on your gloves when Arthur fell in line with you. "It's getting cold, y/n, where's your coat?" Arthur pulled Memphis closer to you while he brought his cigarette to life with a match. "Got left behind." You looked over at him, Arthur sighed, calling to one of the girls in the wagon to get his extra coat from his chest. "Arthur, I'll be okay, I appreciate it." "You'll turn blue before we ever get to wherever the hell we're going." He said, his accent coming out more whenever he spoke with frustration like that. You nodded sheepishly, taking the coat when he handed it to you. The brown scout jacket was wrapped around you quickly, the fuzzy wool was heaven compared to the cold whipping you before. You buttoned it up to keep you as warm as possible and Arthur couldn't help but feel something at the sight of you in his clothes again.

Arthur pulled ahead of everyone again, the snow getting progressively worse. It was quite a storm, and even though it would keep you all safe from the law, you weren't safe from the elements. Dutch shouted that he needed a few of the boys to go ahead and look for some shelter, and fast. You hoped they would return soon.

About half an hour later, you faintly heard Arthur's voice appear upfront. You spurred on Argo to the front, much to her dismay. "An old mining town that'll do till this is over." Arthur explained, relieved that you could all finally get out of this weather. It wasn't long until the caravan got to the town, Miss Grimshaw was quick to get the girls to prepare the main cabin, a fire lit in no time. Davey had passed, you watched Reverend Swanson quietly read his passages for the Callander boy. Dutch and Arthur took off again to look for John, Javier, and Micah. You wished you could've gone, but your body was tired and the others needed help here anyway.

So instead, you helped the girls prepare rooms in the other cabins. You blew some dust off of a photograph left behind there, it was some rancher family, the wife was pregnant. You wondered where they were now. After returning it to where it was on the small side table, you poked the fire to keep it alive, taking a seat in front of it. This was to be Dutch and Molly's cabin, with Arthur in the other room. Hosea insisted on staying in the main building with nearly everyone else.

Despite the fire blazing in front of you, it was still so damn cold. As much as you tried to convince yourself this was fine, it wasn't, the place was horrible. The cold air nipping your nose brought you back to a time where your nose felt like it could melt off.

◊

"I think I might die." You whined, sitting down with drama and fanning yourself with your hat. Arthur felt the same way, he was so hot that he couldn't even bring himself to come up with a cheeky response to your complaint. He wiped the sweat from his brow for what felt like the hundredth time that day, popping another button open on his shirt. "I wish I could do that, but I'm already pushing immodest." You frowned, Arthur laughed at that, "I wouldn't complain." He smirked, he couldn't help himself with that one. You smiled, tossing your hat at him, he caught it, holding it to his chest. "Y'know, I remember passing this lake a couple days ago." Arthur drawled, he didn't need to say another word, you were already up and tugging him along to the horses.

You both mounted up and headed out, more than happy to feel the slight wind from your horses cantering towards this lake Arthur mentioned. It was too hot to push them to a gallop, which would have relieved you both even more. It seemed like the land was empty, everybody hiding away from the heat. Even the wild animals that usually roamed around were hiding somewhere today. You figured that if you could somehow see the place from space, it probably looked like it was on fire.

The ride to the lake was longer than you would've liked, but you both smiled when it came into view. The water looked so refreshing and you knew it would make you feel so much better. Arthur and you swiftly got off your horses and walked down to the water. You did a double-take to ensure that there was nobody around, but you honestly didn't care too much as you started stripping down. Arthur watched you a moment too long, catching your attention, the wink you gave him made him blush even more than the sun did. After he took off his clothes, you both couldn't get into the lake any quicker.

You were joyous, the water cooled your skin right away, same with Arthur. He splashed some water onto his face, running a hand through his hair. You took the liberty of dunking your whole head into the water, the burning of your scalp residing. "This feels so good." You swam closer to your beau, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I know, felt like I was gonna melt earlier" You smirked, running your thumb over his cheekbone, "I still feel like I'm going to melt." You countered, glancing down at your bodies pressed against each other, your flirty demeanour was shut down though as Arthur took the chance to splash water at you.

◊

The final splash of whiskey in your mouth burned slightly. You didn't have much left to begin with, but it would help you sleep and warm your soul slightly. You weren't sure if it was the wind whistling, the crackling fire, or the whiskey that caused you to doze off, but sure enough, you did. You were so tired that not even Dutch and Molly going to their room woke you. Arthur walked in not long after them, his eyes immediately casting down to your form, asleep in the chair. Still wearing his jacket. He sighed, just as exhausted as you clearly were. He could take you to the other cabin but he didn't want to wake you, nor let you sleep in that chair. His heart began thumping faster while he picked you up gently, thankful that you didn't wake up. Arthur carefully laid you down in what was meant to be his bed for the night, proceeding to trek out to the horses to grab his bedroll. He hurriedly got back inside and spread the bedroll out on the floor next to the bed. He checked that you were covered with the blanket a final time, tossed his hat onto the side table, and went to sleep.

You woke up, confused about where you were for a moment, but then confused again when you realized you weren't where you originally fell asleep. You turned onto your side, seeing his weathered hat, and then his still sleeping body on the ground. You tutted, he should've just left you to sleep there in your silly way and taken the bed. That wasn't Arthur though, he would give anybody the shirt off his back. Even if he denied that; you knew the truth. You studied his face from your place on the bed, it'd been so long since you'd seen him like this. There wasn't a crease between his brows, or a smug look on his face, or a sad one. You'd recognized his changes over the years now, but it wasn't your place to say anything. You faced the ceiling again, you still missed him dearly. In your time apart, no man ever came close to making your heart feel like it did with him. The idea alone of him carrying you to bed last night made you feel like a swooning teenager again.

Arthur began to wake up, his back aching from the uneven floorboards. He rubbed a hand over his face, sitting up and noticing that you were awake. "Mornin'." He grunted while rolling his shoulders around, sleep still present in his voice. "You didn't need to give me the bed, Arthur, I deserve the sore back for falling asleep out in the chair." He waved you off, "At least let me repay you somehow, share this can of peaches with me, it's my last one." Arthur was going to turn down your offer, but the growling in his stomach got the best of him. Sitting next to each other on the bed, you shared the can of sweet fruit. You chuckled as he finished the last of it, some of the nectar dripping down onto his chin. Unintentionally, you wiped it up with your thumb, but once you realized what you did, your stomach did a cartwheel. "Oh." That was all you could say, your face becoming scarlet-coloured. Arthur watched you but then looked down at his lap.

The awkwardness didn't have a chance to get worse because Arthur decided to speak his mind, not the first time he had, and certainly not the last. "I still miss you." His sentence was so familiar because he'd said the same thing to you so long ago now. He voiced his feelings towards you, "We were so young, and I was a stupid man to ever let you go, y/n." His volume lowered, and he convinced himself once he looked up, you would slap him. But you didn't. You were smiling, you responded to him in a whisper, "Dutch did always say we were meant to be for a reason."

◊

The smoke had cleared. You got out. And the man you once looked up to betrayed you all. But it didn't make you very sad, or angry. You were sort of glad.

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

The view from your cabin was truly something special. Not many better ways to pass time than sitting on the rock that overlooked it. You twisted your ring, the ring that somehow got moved to the fourth finger on your left hand.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made you look back with a smile. He was always loved your smile, it could brighten up the bluest of days. Holding two cups of coffee, one with sugar and one without, Arthur walked over to you, taking his usual spot next to you on the rock and handing you your mug. Words were causeless at the moment, the sunset too beautiful to interrupt it, the end of silence is always irrevocable though. "I guess Dutch wasn't completely wrong, in the end." You looked at Arthur with confusion, bringing your coffee down from your lips. "We were meant to be. Doesn't have to be by his proposition though." He explained, taking your hand into his. "I say that we were meant to be."

#dad hosea

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#dad hosea