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eaaaazygurl · 2 years

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Take A Gamble That Love Exists

Chapter 2 of 3

Pairing - Arthur Morgan x F!reader

Summary - You awaken to three extremely worried women claiming to know Arthur and belong to the Van Der Linde gang. Arthur has vanished after Dutch and Micah returned to the camp of Clemens Point alone, tricked by Colm O'driscoll's fake parley. Now you find yourself on the trail of Arthur Morgan, coming to terms with your ever growing feelings just hoping to the skies above that he hasn't been killed.

Wordcount - 7000+

Notes - Another long read, buckle down for this one. Not entirely impressed with this one, so apologies if it isn't brilliant. Maybe I'll return one day to remaster it but didn't wanna leave you lot hanging ^^' AU with your own posse. You can imagine how they'd look when mentioned!

Warnings - Mentions of blood, torture and kidnapp.

These goddamn tracks feel like they go on forever...

Perhaps it had been your anxiety, bubbling away within the very pit of your stomach, spitting flecks of seering hot stomach acid into your throat as you swallowed thickly. Maybe it had been the way you woke, resting against the belly of your blue roan Missouri Fox Trotter stallion some ways away from your own camp, dishevelled and still extremely tired from the raid on a lone O'driscoll camp the night prior just south from your own camp, woken to three rather panicked looking women who had introduced themselves as members of Dutch Van Der Linde's gang: Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth and Karen. Just Karen.

"Woah woah okay, slow down ladies. I can't understand all three of you at once-" your feeble attempts at calming the women had all but failed, though you had at least managed to get them to explain the situation one at a time.

Tilly had spoken, or rather worriedly babbled, first, "It's Arthur! We need your help findin' him."

Karen threw herself into the conversation haphazardly, her eyes wild with concern, "Look we know you two spend a lotta time together, we was hopin' you could go on yer horse and track him down!"

Your eyes widened and you swore you felt your stomach tie itself into knots. Arthur was missing? More importantly, why weren't any of the others from Arthur's gang going out to track him down? Then your mind wandered to the much more confusing question of how these women knew who you were and where to find you. Afterall, you had decided to take a nap in the middle arse of nowhere.

Karen explained how Arthur had told the girls about you, how he seemed rather fond of you so much so that when Karen had managed to get a breif and sneaky look into Arthur's journal, she had stumbled on one page in particular displaying an extremely detailed drawing of you. That's how they recognised you. As for finding you so easily, Sean had brought up a 'lovely lookin' girl takin' a nap on her horse just a few ticks from camp' and explained what you had looked like; a description fitting yourself. It turns out, you had chosen to have a snooze not far from Clemens Point at all, and you were lucky enough for Dutch to not see you as much of a bother, so long as you didn't stumble too close to the camp border. The girls had taken that opportunity to sneak off and beg for your help, seeing as Charles had apparently been unsuccessful and no one else had taken leave to try and figure out where Arthur had been taken.

"Where was he taken? And who took him, exactly?" That should have been the first question you'd asked... you silently cursed yourself for not asking it sooner.

"It was the O'driscolls." Mary-Beth now took a step forward, her sparkling eyes full of worry, you could see the fear in her expression.

O'driscolls... maybe they'd finally had enough of your games. Both you and Arthur had spent countless weeks together drawing Colm's men further East, picking them off like flies. Perhaps your little side mission to rid New Hanover and the surrounding states of their 'pest problem' had gotten Arthur in trouble. Perhaps it was your fault...

With that knowledge and Mary-Beth confirming where the meeting had taken place, seeing as she had managed to steal the map Dutch had scribbled on to circle the area where the meeting had taken place, you promised the girls you'd get Arthur back no matter the cost. You took off almost instantaneously, making sure to pass by your own camp at Southfield Flats and posse members to have them aid in the rescue mission you set out to do.

With the thundering of horse hooves against the dry dirt road and roaring of the wind flowing freely against your face, you were off, racing towards New Hanover once more. Determination sparkled within your eyes and behind you Anna, Calvin, Harley, Amelia and your twin brother Archer, all saddled up and armed, too had determination plastered across their expressions. Arthur had saved you from the O'driscolls once, now it was time to return that favour.

We must've been following these tracks for hours now... come on Arthur, where did they take you?

Night had fallen. The lamp attached to your mount's saddles to your relief had been bright enough to illuminate the path ahead of you. These tracks had continued for miles right into the state of West Elizabeth, though the impressions within the now muddied road were damper and fresher with each passing step. You weren't far off.

"Okay, we're close see? There's fresh water in these hoofprints." You stuck your finger out to trace the outline of a track, a small collection of brown water within the center of it. "Guess they've got him hauled up in Lone Mule Stead..."

"How are we playin' this?" It was Harley who had questioned you, his steed taking a step forward to address you.

Your head twisted to catch wind of laughter up ahead. Drunken laughter, it seemed, and sounded all too familiar. You then met Harley's gaze with a lowered brow, "Try and get the horses as close to the camp as possible without them being seen, then hide. I'll give you a whistle, open fire when you hear it."

"What about you?" Archer came to your side, placing his hand against your shoulder with concern washing over his face. You were all the family he had left, visa versa. This was a dangerous thing, going in without prior knowledge. But it was what had to be done.

You offered your sibling a reassuring smile, patting him on the shoulder, "I'm gonna sneak into wherever they're holding Arthur. Don't worry about me, I can handle it. Got a gun and a knife ain't I?"

Departing from your posse you crawled up the brim of the hill within the small forested section that rimmed the camp. Your eyes met a number of makeshift tents scattered around in a large circle, two hitching posts with at least five to six horses on - including Pandora, Arthur's mare. The men were in small pockets surrounding the camp, drinking their Whisky and taking long drags on their cigarettes. Just off to the far side of the camp was an illuminated cellar door, it had caught your interest by the flickering lantern light that escaped the cracks.

That must be where they're keeping him...

A few loud and painful yelps only confirmed that theory.

It made your blood boil.

You longed to just charge in now and slit the throat of whoever had lashed out what sounded like ten beatings onto Arthur, but you knew that would only ensure his death. You had to be tactical and careful about this.

Suddenly, the cellar doors flung open. A tall lanky looking man appeared from the ground, hat just about covering his eyeline. His greying hair was practically down to his shoulders and he dawned a rather tacky looking suit with a green vest to compliment it. Your eyes were wide with rage.

Colm fucking O'driscoll.

The son of a bitch who had his men orphan you and your brother, burning your family ranch to nothing but charred, blackened beams of wood, forcing you both to watch your parents be consumed by the amber tongue of the inferno.

The same man who had taken you both hostage and physically scarred you in a sick way of tagging you both like cattle.

Now, he was inflicting those awful attacks onto the man you were sweet on, what else could such a rat do?

You could end him right now, put a bullet in his brain... but... that would get Arthur killed for sure. Arthur was far more important than your hatred for Colm. So, you let the man free. He took his position elsewhere in the camp whilst you began your careful decent towards the cellar door. It hadn't taken much effort. Nobody was guarding it afterall. You unsheathed your hunting knife, taking a deep breath as you began to quietly lower yourself down the stairs of the cellar.

A sharp Irish voice caught your attention, hissing snide remarks and throwing terrible insults. You got to the end step, took a step forward and then threw your spare hand around the O'driscoll's mouth, whilst your other pressed the edge of your knife against his throat. Your eyes narrowed to stare directly into the widened eyes of the man, "Usually I'd make my formalities before killin' folk. Unfortunately for you, hurtin' Arthur here just earnt you an early grave." Before the man could struggle or let out what muffled scream he could muster, your blade swiped through his throat like butter. An awful gurgle erupted from his spewing neck and slowly he fell to the ground, the light leaving his eyes. Your attention then turned to Arthur, wide eyed and practically hyperventilating at the sight of him.

"Arthur!" A flurry of emotions tore through you: relief, terror, shock... you couldn't quite pin point on what hit you the hardest exactly. You took little time to unlock the shackles that held Arthur suspended and upside down, attempting to catch his head before it had hit the ground on his decent. You fell to your knees beside Arthur, pulling him into your lap.

"Y/n? The.. hell you doin'... here?" Arthur's voice was hoarse and extremely fatigued, panting between words.

You gently removed the strange bag that had been forcefully shoved upon Arthur's head.

Your hands met Arthur's cheeks, your eyes wide and pinned onto his face as though you could hardly believe he was here, alive and in front of you.

You drew Arthur into a strong embrace, burrying your face into the crook of his neck with a shaken sigh, "I thought I'd lost you..."

You drew yourself up, gently lifting Arthur and encouraging one of his arms to loop around your neck and rest upon your shoulder, "Nevermind why I'm here, we found you and we're gettin' you outta here and back to Clemens Point."

Arthur groaned softly, his shoulder seering with pain as you gently set him down on a lone stool. The ghastly shoulder wound hadn't gone unnoticed by you and it needed fixing up - fast. Your eyes searched the cabinets and shelves before finally coming across a few odd utensils and a single candle burning bright before you, "Okay... this is gonna hurt, alright? The O'driscolls are still out there so if you need to make noise do it into my neck."

Arthur shot you a weak and weary gaze but gave you a nod nonetheless, bringing himself to rest against you in preparation for the onslaught of pain.

You grimaced at the idea of inflicting pain onto Arthur. The very thought of it gnawed away at your mind and made your palms break into a sweat, but you had to do it, lest Arthur lose anymore blood or end up with a fatal infection. He understood that and so did you, no matter how much you wanted to back away. You had to do this.

First came pushing a heated lockpick into the deep hole to pry out any fragmented bullets as well as burn off any traces of infection. You offered Arthur your spare hand to hold as you began the harrowing process.

Of course, Arthur began to writhe against you. He forced himself to be still, although the grip he had on your hand was almost bone shattering and he growled into the dip of your shoulder. The sheer sound of him in complete agony brought tears to your eyes as you began to force various debris from his shoulder, quietly sobbing during the process, hoping he hadn't heard. Finally, what appeared to be the last piece was freed from the wound and you ripped away a section of your shirt to mop up any blood.

"Okay, gunpowder next. This shouldn't be as bad... you ready?" Your voice was barely a squeak, quaking with anxiety and guilt for causing him so much anguish.

Arthur took in a deep breath and nodded, "I'll be alright... jus'... jus' do it."

Your teeth clasped onto the end of the shotgun shell and pulled the cap from the base, spitting it out onto the floor below you. Gently, you sprinkled the contents of the shell into the wound, feeling Arthur tense at the burning sensation he felt as the power came in contact with open flesh.

Now... perhaps the worst part, or maybe the least painful? Only Arthur could decide.

Your hand grasped onto the candle that flickered a little orange flame upon it's wick, slowly bringing it towards the wound. You have Arthur a silent gaze, catching those beautiful blue eyes of his as he met your eyes, blinking slow and tired. A pained sigh escaped your ribcage as you gritted your teeth, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye to land gracefully onto Arthur's skin. The flame met flesh, hissing and burning as it began to cauterize the wound. Arthur let out a pained cry, much louder than the last he had muffled into your shoulder.

"Shut yer hole!"

Oh for christ sake!

The doors of the cellar were thrown open, and quick advancing steps had you drop the candle onto the floor and hastily drag Arthur to the wall. You gently set him down, pulling out your knife once more and crouched at the very edge of the doorway.

"I don't wanna go to Mexico. I wanna go home... home! Hold on I'll be back in a minute."

The O'driscoll passed you, frozen on the spot as he lifted the lantern he had gripped in his right hand. His prisoner had vanished: "What the hell?!"

Like a Cougar striking for her prey, you ambushed the man, throwing him down onto the concrete floor and sunk your knife deep into his throat, sharp eyes glaring into your kill as you hissed, "Seems like you won't be making that trip to Mexico... Or going home."

You were quickly at Arthur's side once more. The poor man had slipped into a shallow sleep and regrettably, you had to wake him if you wanted to get him out of here, "Come on honey, let's get ya home - lean on me."

The accent into the open world and it's fresh breeze almost made Arthur's legs buckle, using you as support as he groaned painfully into you. You had to freeze on the second to last step out of the cellar, narrowing your eyes at the sound of approaching footsteps, your spare hand twitching over your pistol within it's holster.

"What's he still doin' down there? It's one thing torturing a man, it's another thing puttin' him through stories of the homeland..." two men strode past the enterance, puffing on their cigarettes exchanging not-so-quiet conversation, "He better hurry it up... I don't wanna be here when the law come for that side of beef."

You allowed them to pass. Shooting now would only get the both of you cornered in a one way exit cellar, that would be certainly death. Once the two had passed, you slowly set foot onto flat, solid soil, fixing your arm a little tighter around Arthur's waist to steady him as he stumbled, his arm coiling around your neck some more like a disturbed snake upon a tree branch.

Surrounding you from all directions were O'driscoll after O'driscoll. There was no sneaking out of here, Arthur was far too weak and bambi-legged to do such a thing. You gave the man a sweet smile, making sure he was still conscious and alert, "It's gonna get messy in a little bit. Think you can make a break for the horses with me once I give the signal? We'll be high-tailing it outta here as soon as possible."

Weak and weary, Arthur met your gaze which seemed to at least heighten his spirits a little, "Sure... what do ya mean... we?"

"I never invite myself to a shoot out alone." You gave Arthur a tiny smirk, making sure you had a good grip around his waist and took a deep breath, grasped your Volcanic Pistol in your spare hand and let out a long whistle.

You had caught the attention of every O'driscoll in camp now. But at that very same moment, a shower of bullets began erupting from the treeline, illumimating the O'driscoll camp as though daylight had broke through the thick, dark midnight clouds. Horses barreled into the clearing, rearing with loud whinnies and bucking legs, alongside the passionate war-cries of your posse as they opened fire.

"Anna!" You called out as best you could within the calamity of gunfire. She had heard you, her large chestnut Gypsy Cob stallion thundering to your side with a heavy huff: "What ya need?"

"Find Arthur's stuff, his gunbelt, guns, clothes and whatever else you think belongs to him. Steal whatever the fuck you want afterwards." You waved your hand towards the cobblestone house, suggesting his equipment may have been stored inside there, "Then you meet us at Clemens Point. It's where Arthur's gang's held up, just don't come barrelling in lest you wanna get shot."

Anna gave you a quick nod, discarding a number of bullets into the closest O'driscoll ahead of you, "Where's Clemens Point?"

You quickly retrieved the map Mary-Beth had offered you, tapping at the edge of Flat Iron Lake where Clemens Point was located, "There. We'll be there. Be safe, Anna."

Anna took the map from you, waved you off with a flick of her hand and reared her stallion into battle, leaving you and Arthur to finally make a break for it.

You took the opportunity to carefully yet quickly shuffle you and Arthur towards the hitching posts, your brother Archer skidding to your side with a single nod, helping Arthur onto your stallion whilst you removed Pandora from the hitching post. You gave the mare a tap on the rear, calling "Take us home girl! Get Arthur home!" And finally mounting onto your own horse, Arthur stationed in front of you. The poor man slumped heavily into your chest, forcing you to wrap your arms around him whilst also handling the ropes upon your steed, spurring him after Arthur's white Arabian mare as she tore down the slopes and into the open countryside.

Your posse came to your side, guns blazing and taking down any threat that came in your way. Two O'driscoll men had managed to charge towards your side, and you whipped your Volcanic Pistol out with a furious scream, pulling the trigger to nest a shower of bullets into their heads.

"We got a few under the bridge Y/n!" Amelia announced to your left, taking down one of the men with a precise aim of her Bow, a sharp arrow burying itself into the right eyesocket. Impressive, you had thought to yourself, a smirk forming against your lips as you unloaded a single bullet into the next man ahead of you.

"Wagon up ahead!" Harley spurred his black and white Kentucky Saddler mare to your side, to which you gave the signal with a determined nod, whipping out a stick of dynamite, "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be!"

"Alright - let it rain!" With a powerful throw, the dynamite tore through the air, now directly above the heads of the O'driscolls. Harley unleashed a single bullet from his rifle to land a perfect hit into the trajectory of the dynamite, a powerful explosion burning orange and red into the night. The path was clear once more, your horses galloping faster than ever after Pandora as she tore across the countryside.

The frantic yells and cries of the O'driscolls began to dampen and drown out as your horses galloped further from the scene. Hooves tore into the Dakota River, Bards Crossing looming overhead. Strong legs powered up the sloping hills and into the stretch of Heartland fields ahead of you. Pandora, as quick as she was agile, began to slow into a quick trot as to be sure her rider was closeby, still on track towards Clemens Point.

You felt your muscles begin to relax. There had been no gunfire and no sudden ambush since before crossing the river that separated West Elizabeth from New Hanover, and now you were approaching Flatneck Station, continuing on the path that stuck close to the lake at your right.

You could finally release a heavy sigh, holstering your gun and turning your attention to your friends and brother, "Thank god for that..."

"Glad that's over. Also glad we got to pop a few O'driscoll heads too," Amelia lightened the mood a little, enjoying the sentiment of ridding the world of a few more O'driscoll Boys. Harley guided his horse to your side, glancing down at Arthur who had now all but fallen asleep against you, his breathing shallow, "Do you think he'll make it...?"

You glance downward. Arthur... oh that beautiful man. How couldn't he? This man now upon your chest asleep and safe meant more to you than anything in the world. You just hoped you'd gotten to him in time...

"Arthur's a strong man. Believe me... I've seen it myself." A small smile formed upon your lips as you gently brushed away a small lock of honey brown hair from his closed eyes, drawing small circles into his skin in an effort to keep him calm and comforted, "If anyone can survive an ordeal like this, it's Arthur."

The remainder of the journey back at been silent, with just the sound of night life breaking the mold. Your horses remained on the tail of Pandora, a shooting star guiding weary travellers back home.

After some hours of travel, you recognised the red dust of Lemoyne that had been stirred up into little red dust clouds from the thundering hooves of your horses alongside the various shrubs and trees that littered the drought stricken landscape.

You were now deep into Lemoyne territory, passing through Scarlet Meadows and Southfield Flats just beyond, outskirting Rhodes until you could see the shimmering surface of Flat Iron Lake ahead, the low pale moon sparkling within it's reflection on the waters surface.

Pandora broke the treeline just ahead, following a slick, small path that weaved in numorous directions before she began to slow into a canter, a trot and finally a slow walk towards the hitching posts where the thick woodland opened up into a grand clearing, a huge tree situated in the center with various tents and wagons surrounding it's epicentre.

Clemens Point.

The Van Der Linde gang camp.

Arthur's home.

"Hey! Can we get some help here! I have Arthur - I found him!" Was all you could really say. You didn't know what to expect. Hostility perhaps? Much of the gang had never laid their eyes on you before, let alone six of you. You'd just waltzed right into their camp without a guard to warn them off. Luckily for you however, you had allies in the Van Der Linde gang. Sean Macguire being one such man, and the wonderful Hozier, too. Trelawny had made your aquaimtence a few times for job offers in the past, and Charles and Javier met you when Arthur had freed you and Sean from the O'driscolls many months ago. It had also been three of the women within the camp who had warned you of Arthur's disappearance. You needn't worry.

It was Mary-Beth who had raced over to meet you first, bleary eyed as though she hadn't slept in days, "Arthur!" She cried out, shooting you a terrified gaze.

You rose your hand a little to signal that everything was alright - for now... "He's alive, but he's real hurt."

Karen was now at your opposite side, her hands covering her mouth in an expression of shock as she too called out for "Arthur?" Offering her arms out so that you could gently lift Arthur down. He let out an awful groan of pain, eyes cracking open to take in the scene that he had woke to. Those beautiful blue eyes searched for your own, panic breifly flushing over his face as he left your side. You could have sworn that he had gripped onto you for a second, attempting to drag himself back to you, but his strength wavered and he felt his legs buckle as his feet touched the ground. Mary-Beth was quick to Arthur's opposite side, Karen holding him up on his left.

"Arthur!" A much lower tone now echoed out throughout the camp that had now ignited their lanterns in the dull dawn light, the sun barely piercing the horizon. You recognised that voice, so full of authority.

It was Dutch.

Dutch Van Der Linde, the head honcho of the gang. You had briefly met him during the seige on Valentine after Cornwall had his men open fire on Arthur, Dutch, John and Strauss. Having been close to the town at the time and spent many hours alongside Arthur on your little personal missions, you and your posse offered to hold Valentine off whilst Dutch fled back to Horseshoe, giving the gang enough time to flee to a new location before Cornwall's men and ultimately the Pinkerton's could follow.

The leader's eyes met your own after breifly examining Arthur - wanting to be sure it was really him as if he hadn't believed it, "You brought our Arthur back to us. All of you."

"Don't worry about all that now, Arthur's in a bad way." You gestured to the blood soaked shoulder of Arthur's union suit that grew wetter with each passing second, "They shot him. Beat him... I tried to clean the infection the best I could with what I had but it's gonna need more than that."

Dutch turned his attention to Arthur, eyes widening at the gruesome wound you had pointed to. The longer it remained in such a state the more the risk of an infection grew, it had to be dealt with swiftly.

Arthur inhaled sharply as he faltered on weak legs, dragging his gaze up to meet Dutch, "I told you it was a set up, Dutch..."

"My boy," Dutch ushered Mary-Beth away to take Arthur's side instead, seeing that the poor woman already worn down by little sleep had began to struggle keeping Arthur upright, "My dear boy, what?"

"They got me..." Arthur rasped, letting his weight fall against Dutch as he steadied him, "But we got away... Y/n got me away..."

Dutch glanced up to you and back down to Arthur with a quick nod, gently ushering Arthur to walk with him, "Yeah, that you did. You all did... Miss Grimshaw, I need help!"

Grimshaw was at Arthur's side within an instant, Dutch calling out once more for: "Reverend Swanson!"

A pained growl erupted from Arthur's throat, "They was gonna set the law on us..." earning a unsurprisingly pissed off, "Oh of course he was!" From Dutch, Pearson scooting to their side with a guilt-ridden, "I'm sorry Arthur!"

Dutch's narrowed eyes met Pearson with a sharp scolding, "It is a bit late for apologise..." Before throwing his head up to call for "Swanson!" Once more.

Reverend Swanson, although dishevelled and hardly dressed proper, made his way to Arthur's side, "Mr Morgan! Mr Morgan you're safe now!"

"Let's get him to bed!" Miss Grimshaw almost pleaded, wavering her hands in the direction of Arthur's quarters. As they began to move him along with a much more urgent pace, Arthur let out a disturbed snarl of pain, his teeth gritting to avoid letting out anymore cries of agony.

Finally arriving at Arthur's cot, they gently lowered him down. Dutch aimlessly fiddled with the various rings along his fingers, "You are safe now, Arthur. You're safe now."

Arthur's chest heaved, clawing for oxygen. He turned his tired gaze towards Dutch with a whisper of a laugh, "That's pretty Dutch..." He rasped, eyes slowly closing as he settled, finally able to rest, "That's real pretty..."

Dutch took a step back, turning to Susan who shared his worry, "Miss Grimshaw... Will you sit with him a while?"

"Of course." Susan came to sit at Arthur's side, gently brushing away the filth that had accumulated upon his face, "You'll be okay, Mr Morgan... you're home."

You watched on at the enterance of Clemens Point, eyes clouded with worry. With every groan of pain you heard earned you a wince, feeling the sharp stab of emotional turmoil.

Archer came to your side upon Nimbus, his dapple grey Missouri Fox Trotter mare and sibling to Starstreak, your own stallion.

"We best be off. It's almost light."

"Yeah... guess you're right." There was an air of defeat within your tired voice, taking one last glance towards Arthur as he fell into a slumber. You wanted nothing more than to be where Miss Grimshaw was sitting, to make sure he was okay.

This... however, wasn't your gang.

You gave your mount a gentle command, turning to face the exit pathway into the treeline and was about to spur Starstreak onward until a friendly voice stopped you in your tracks: "Where you goin'?"

You spun to face none other than Tilly Jackson. She had a rather confused expression on her, as though she had not expected you to leave so soon, "Ain't you stayin'?"

"Oh-" it had taken you back a little, frowning at the impossible idea of staying with Arthur, no matter how much you longed for it, "I can't overstay my welcome. Don't wanna tread on anyone's toes... besides, I ain't part of your gang."

"Hmm..." Tilly pouted a little, resting her hand against her chin before snapping her fingers, "Stay right there you lot. I'll be back in a minute."

"What's she doin'?" Archer whispered to you, giving Harley and Amelia a confused shrug.

You pursed your lips, your brow knitted together for you too shared that confused gaze, "I ain't so sure..."

You watched on as Tilly made her way to Dutch who had sat with Hozier upon the communal table in the centre of camp, his face buried in his hands. There was a brief conversation between the two of them with Hozier joining in, both the men looking over in your direction. Then, Tilly skipped a little - perhaps joyfully - and have Dutch a little wave as she left to return to you, "So, I've spoke with Dutch. He's more than happy to let you all join us! Says it's more than what he owes you all for saving Arthur."

For a moment you sat there. It had taken you a little while just to process what Tilly had just said, your breath hitched and your eyes wide. You slowly turned your attention to your Posse, who all exchanged glances with eachother as though unsure on what to say. Finally, you straightened up, forcing your smile to stay hidden at the idea of literally living alongside the man you had grown sweet to, "I... I'm honoured Tilly, thank you! But... won't it put pressure on the rest of you?"

Tilly threw a single hand up to stop you, a brow raised and a simple smirk dawning her expression, "I already ran that by Dutch and Hozier. They seem to think you lot can hunt well, given you're all not skin and bone. You'll make stockin' up on food for Mr Pearson a lot easier."

"Well you're right on that, we can hunt just fine. Just... let me run it by these guys."

Tilly gave you a little nod, stepping back, "I understand. Let me know!"

Your eyes met your Posse. Your family. What would happen now? There was stability in what Dutch was offering. There was Arthur, of course... but also an opportunity to live in a community, protecting one another. There was a chance of living free - much more free than you had ever lived before.

You took some time explaining the pros and cons of such an offer to the others. Finally, after a long deliberation, you had all come to the conclusion that joining with the Van Der Linde gang would be in your best interests.

"Yes, I think we'll take Dutch's offer. Thank you Tilly, it means so much to all of us..."

There was an extra set of hooves galloping through the treeline. You turned your attention to none other than Anna, her shoulders slung with various thick bags, "I got 'em! Got all of Arthur's guns, money, clothes - you name it! And look! Colm may have escaped but we got a good chunk of payroll they stole!"

Astonishment washed over you and Tilly, and Dutch too had caught wind. He came over, Cigar nestled between his fingers with Hozier at his side, "This must be another one of our new members, I presume?"

Anna blinked rapidly, visually confused as she glanced between you and Dutch, "What's going on?"

"We're joining Dutch's gang, Anna. He offered us a place for rescuing Arthur." You explained with a thankful smile upon your lips, "Dutch, this is Anna. She stayed behind to get Arthur's belongings back, and to uh... make Colm's pockets lighter. We all have a pretty similar rivalry with the O'driscolls if you couldn't tell."

Dutch gave Anna a confident smirk, hand outstretched to take Arthur's belongings, "Thank you Anna. We all appreciate the efforts you people went through to get Arthur back to us. Living with us might be tough at times but I can assure you it is rewarding."

Hitching your horses, Dutch sauntered off to the table once more, offering you all a seat to go through a few ground rules. You remained for the most important parts but eventually took your leave to head off towards Arthur's tent. Before you could make it to his side however... Hozier stopped you: "Thank you Y/n."

You turned your attention to Hozier with a soft smile. He was the man who had found you all many years ago during his travels around the states, taking a small absence from the gang. A reunion between two good friends...

"You don't need to thank me, Hozier. I needed to do it. Couldn't imagine what I'd have done if Arthur was killed by those... those-" anger began to well in your throat, causing the muscles to constrict and cause an awful ache. Hozier calmed you with a hush and a hand against your shoulder as he walked you over to Arthur's side, quietly dismissing Susan from her post to get some sleep despite Dawn light now casting a pink glow across the camp, "Don't fret Y/n, Arthur's back now. You saved him and that's all that matters." He paused, beckoning you to take a seat beside the now sleeping Outlaw, watching you with a soft smile against his lips as you gazed down at Arthur, taking his hand into your own.

"I'll leave you to it. Gonna go make sure your lot know what happens round here." With a wave, Hozier had left.

Now it was just the two of you. The world around you felt as though it simply didn't exist within the moment. All noise and clatter fading into nothingness. Just... you, and Arthur. You felt his hand squeeze around your own as you held it there against his palm, a tiny fleeting smile forming upon his lips. He was safe, and by god were you gonna make sure from here on out that nothing was gonna happen to him again. At least... you'd try.

"Hey, who's there?"

"Just me Javier," calling out to Javier, you gave the man a friendly smile once you had broken the treeline to the edge of Clemens Point, tugging gently against Starstreak's reigns to slow him and eventually come to a hault just beside him. It had already been a week since your integration into the gang, today was your first time away from camp after spending a large majority of it at Arthur's bedside.

Javier returned a smile, beckoning to your rather fat looking satchel, "How'd the trip to Rhodes go? Got everything you needed?"

"Yeah it went really well," digging through your bag, you revealed a number of pencils and a new Union suit, "Arthur lost his last pencil and his current union suit is... well. It ain't getting fixed put it that way."

Javier pressed his lips together and took in a deep breath, sighing outward with a heavy "Yep," Before glancing over towards Arthur's tent, "It's seen better days. No way the girls are gonna be able to patch up a hole that big, let alone get all that blood out."

You began replacing the items onto your satchel once more, folding the bright red new Union suit back into a little square, letting out a sarcastic, "Hopefully he doesn't bleed all over this one." You rose your foot to spur your mount towards the hitching posts, but not before narrowing your eyes towards Javier, "Oh, by the way... if you or anyone else are planning on going into Rhodes anytime soon, keep an eye out. Folk round there were acting real shifty when I showed up..."

"Noted. Thanks Y/n," Javier waved you off and soon you were quickly maneuvering yourself back into Arthur's tent.

To your surprise, Arthur was awake.

"Y/n?" Arthur's low rumble was weak, tired and exhausted but also pleasantly surprised. He was sat upright, his back leaning against the wooden surface of the wagon that acted as one of four walls to his tent. Mousy brown hair fell messily over his ocean blue eyes that lit up at the sight of you stood in the enterance of his tent.

You flicked your attention up towards Arthur at the sound of his voice, your lips shaping into an excited beaming smile.

"Arthur!" You came to his side almost instantaneously, sliding yourself to Arthur's side feeling the sweet relief of his body heat radiating against you, "How're you feelin'? Last time you were coherent was when I got you back here..."

With a heavy sigh, Arthur pressed his head against the wagon and turned to face you, a fatigued smile plastering his face, "Well I feel like I just got shot in the shoulder and tortured for three days. How about you?"

Oh that devilishly handsome smirk, that whitty sarcasm... it was enough to have you internally melt.

"I feel like I haven't slept for a week, but other than that, pretty good." As you returned an equally humorous smirk, you felt yourself studying Arthur's tired face. His eyes were half lidded with a slack smile, hair obscuring his vision. His beard had grown out somewhat, too. You could tell. It was a lot darker, and Arthur would give his jaw a slow itch every now and again out of irritation. Arthur had been far too weak and weary to even think about handling a shaving blade, and it would be a while yet before he would be able to shave again. So, you had an idea. However, just before you decided to hoist yourself up, Arthur caught your attention with a curious question: "How are you still here anyway?"

"What do you mean?" You slumped back down, unaware that Arthur had now shuffled himself a little closer to you: "In camp, I mean. Dutch doesn't usually let people leave alive or without some sort of bribe to stop you giving away the location of the gang."

Your reply came with an excited grin, tweaking a brow as though pride surged through your veins, "Yeah about that... Tilly managed to convince Dutch to let us stay. He said it would be good payment for saving ya,"

There was a brief silence, only broken by the mingled chatter from the members of the gang outside of the tent. Arthur's brows were raised in shock, his jaw slightly parted in a silent gasp. There was a hidden excitement to his expression, perhaps even relief in knowing that he wouldn't have to search for you across Lemoyne again. Knowing that your little side hustles won't be so suspicious, that you could both spend as much time as you wanted together. Arthur felt his stomach flip and his brow begin to furrow ever so slightly - you hadn't noticed. Worry began to settle like sand in water, his palms starting to moisten with anxiety. He was sweet on you, so much so that it almost hurt. Nobody had realised - at least he hoped not. Love was a painful memory for him, something that was seemingly cursed. His love either drove people away or had them killed... but no matter how hard he didn't want to feel these feelings, he had yielded long ago. They weren't going to vanish, he'd already tried forcing his emotions away. It had only made the situation worse and he found himself drifting back to you for your company. He'd hoped he hasn't made it obvious... what if you didn't feel the same? What if the sheer idea of such a brute of a man loving you would make you uncomfortable and run for the hills?

"Arthur?"

His thoughts broke at your voice beckoning him back to reality. His eyes met your darling smile, so soft and sweet.

You'd noticed him drift, his mind elsewhere as he just gazed directly at you. Had joining the gang been too much for him?

"Sorry- I'm okay, truly!" Arthur bit the inside of his cheek as he flicked his attention to your spare hand, "Jus' real glad you're stayin'. At least I ain't gonna have to try find ya around Lemoyne anymore,"

You replied with a soft, amused snort, your attention having also flicked down to both of your hands, now dwindling closer to eachother at a snails pace. You weren't too sure whether or not Arthur was deliberately shifting his hand towards yours, but the idea made your stomach fill with butterflies and your cheeks flush red. You decided to speak out before your own emotions had you make some strange odd and otherworldly noise, "Shame you won't be chasing me around anymore huh?"

"Oh is that so?" Arthur bit back with a smirk, attempting to hide the giddiness that grew inside of him, "What? Did you like me chasing ya?"

"Perhaps I did. Maybe I didn't. I'll let you decide on that one, Mr Morgan." Oh the sarcasm that spewed from the both of you like blood spilling from an open wound. You were both so blissfully unaware of the obvious flirting between eachother, the sly remarks, the playful banter. You hadn't even realised that your fingers were mere millimetres apart until the tips connected with one another, causing the both of you to fall silent and gaze downward. You both seemed pretty dumbfounded, not quite knowing what to do or say. You hadn't even pulled away.

Arthur was the first to dissolve the tension, doing what he did best - be a sarcastic arse: "Afraid you're gonna have to pay for that miss. Touchin' an Outlaw comes with a price."

This gained a rather tacky and over the top gasp from yourself, "Well I never! I'm an Outlaw too!"

"Well it looks like we're both gonna have to pay eachother then, don't it?" Arthur lurched forward, a smirk so devilish and playful it had almost taken you by surprise. It wasn't until Arthur's bad shoulder shifted that he flinched backward in a hiss of distress, eyes squinting shut. He removed his hand from yours to instinctively grip onto the now weeping shoulder of his.

Your eyes widened, feeling guilt pang at your stomach as you watched Arthur recoil. Quickly you came closer to his side, your hand reaching over him to grasp the discarded cloth beside his cot and soaked it in clean water that was situated in a little silver pail below. You gently removed Arthur's hand from his shoulder, patting at the small vein of blood that trickled freely from the agitated wound. You then set your hand against it, eventually curbing the bleed, and replaced the bandages with clean ones you had also picked up from the general store.

"Hand." You outstretched your own, raising a brow and glancing back at Arthur when he didn't follow, "Gimme your hand you dafty," your tone was calmer now, amused and soft. Arthur blinked, slowly understood your command and offered you his blood stained hand. You were ever so gentle, cleaning away the sticky crimson substance from every crease. You hadn't even noticed the moony expression on the timed Outlaw's face as he gazed down at you.

Once you had finished up, you threw the fabric down onto the floor, silently telling yourself you'd have it washed later. You then dug your hand through your satchel, pulling out a fresh new Union suit that you'd only just remembered you'd brought, offering Arthur a cheery smile. Arthur however shot you a much more confused glance.

"Surely you brought the wrong size..."

"What?" You held the suit up a little to investigate. No, you were certain it was right. You'd even asked the girls what sized clothes Arthur wore, "Hmmm no, pretty sure this is correct."

"So you're gonna walk round in that? You'll trip over your own feet..." Ah. Arthur must've assumed you got yourself one. You let out an amused chuckle, rolling your eyes to earn a rather displeased "What?" From Arthur.

You sighed, placing the red suit onto your lap with a smirk, "It ain't for me, silly... I got it for you! I mean- look at your suit... it's torn to shreds and full of blood. Figured I'd get you a new one."

Arthur paused for a second, raised his eyebrows and replied with a rather embarrassed "Oh." He then screwed up his face in a confused expression, "Why'd you do that for? You didn't need to-"

"Hush. No more questions. Can you manage getting out of that one yourself?" With a smile you stood back, content in seeing that Arthur could stand also as he came to your side, a little wobbly at first but stable nonetheless. You gave Arthur a pleased nod, "I'll head out and wait then-"

"No!"

"Huh?" You spun round to face him, a little shocked.

Arthur swallowed thickly, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck, "I mean- stay. Just in case... jus- turn round. I'll ask for help if need be. Don't wanna go hurtin' myself even more..."

You understood, although it was a little alien for someone as stubborn as Arthur Morgan to almost beg for your help. Nonetheless you smiled, turning to face your back to him, pleased that he trusted you as much as he did. Soon Arthur had discarded of his old suit and shuffled into his new one, setting himself back down on the cot.

"Better?" You set yourself down beside him once more. Arthur gave you a single nod and exhausted sigh, "Loads, thanks."

"Good. Did you need anything else? Noticed you've been messing with your beard, need help shaving?"

Arthur shot you a glance, "You know how to shave?"

"Had to shave my Pa's face every now and again. Poor man was notorious for injuring himself so he'd have me help whilst Ma was busy tending to other things." You shuffled across the cot to come to the side of the box that had Arthur's shaving blade, taking it into your fingers and then wiggled yourself back to Arthur's side, "I promise I won't shave all of it off. I know how you like it."

Arthur agreed, perhaps a little haphazardly. You were gentle, removing at least half of his beard's length to leave a fine layer of short stubble in its wake. Just how he liked it. Once you had finished up, brushing away any loose hairs away, you brought Arthur's mirror to his face. His expression was priceless, shocked and pleased with the result, "Well, that's probably just as well as I'd do it. Thank you."

You offered Arthur a sweet smile, coming to his side once more though you were closer than you ever had been. Arthur had noticed, though he didn't shift away. In fact, he pulled himself closer too.

"Don't thank me, I just wanna make sure you're comfortable." You turned your vision up to meet Arthur's. He was gazing at you, a look that you'd never seen before. For a moment you wondered whether you'd accidently offended the man, but there was something so alluring and hypnotic about that expression... drawing you in as though you had no control. You felt yourself lean closer, eyes locked onto Arthur, feeling the warmth of his body caressing your skin until-

"Miss Y/n, Micah, Charles! Could you come see me please!" Dutch...

You let out a pained sigh, narrowing your eyes to the enterance of Arthur's tent and gazed back at him. An almost sad and disappointed expression dawned him, but he understood and flicked his hand away, "Go on, best go see what he wants. You can always come back."

"I'll be straight back I promise." With that promise came confidence, and with confidence came a very soft, quick peck against Arthur's cheek with your lips. Excitement suddenly flared in your stomach and you quickly stood, smiling back at Arthur breifly and left.

Arthur gazed after you, slack jawed and blushing like a heathen. He felt his entire world buzz and brighten, his stomach flipping and heart thundering against his chest. He had questions, thousands of them. He longed to have you back, to pin you against his chest and breathe you in, to have his lips caress yours in a beautiful dance of love. What you had just offered him was something he never thought he'd have again - a chance. An opportunity to be happy. Another shot at love. He knew it had meant something. He knew that there was a particular tension between the two of you. If it hadn't been for Dutch, perhaps that would have been a kiss you were both leaning in for.

Arthur let out a deep sigh, a blissful smile forming against his lips. He knew what he had to do. When you return, he'll be vulnerable. He'll talk a gamble. He'll tell you how he truly feels, and maybe... just maybe... you'll share that kiss.

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