Chapter Text
Arthur woke up to Sean spooning him. He elbowed Sean in the gut.
“Ugh, what the hell was that, English?”
“You got to sleep so close?”
“It’s cold!”
Arthur sighed. It had been a long few weeks. They’d made their way north after a close call with a bounty hunter. The rather loud man complained openly to his friend about how they were still patrolling Tall Trees when the Van der Linde gang had gone north of the river, completely unaware that Arthur and Sean were hiding behind a bush not ten feet away. They camped for a while near Owanjila after that, keeping an eye out for more law. But the patrols had almost stopped, with most of the bounty hunters keeping an eye on Blackwater itself. “We should head into Strawberry, I think,” Arthur said.
“Finally. I need real food,” Sean said.
“What, you don’t like my cooking?”
“You stick mint leaves on a fish and call it cooking!”
“Fine, make your own damn food next time,” Arthur grumbled.
“Hey, I hurt my head!”
“Yeah, weeks ago!” Sean was perfectly fine now. Arthur, however, was having trouble walking. After getting from Manzanita Post to Owanjila on foot, crawling and crouching and sneaking through the brush, his left leg constantly ached. His right foot had blisters, too, and Sean complained about blisters on his own feet. They both needed a proper rest. Give their bodies some time to recover.
Strawberry was a quiet town of tourists, if Arthur remembered correctly. It should be easy for the two of them to blend in and grab a hotel room, providing there were no bounty posters on the board. But it was a dry town, too, and considering how most bounty hunters relied on saloons for leads and entertainment, Arthur was hopeful that they could get in without being recognized.
“Come on, Sean, let’s go,” Arthur said, staggering forward.
“A real bed, English? You’re not just pulling my leg?”
“Yep, a real bed.”
“It’s about time. I bet we could have gone there a week ago, but no, you just wanted to camp in the dirt a little longer.”
“I was trying to keep us safe, you fool!” Arthur said.
“And you’ve done an excellent job!” Sean said, slapping him across the back. “But you went a bit overboard.”
“Well, next time we got bounty hunters searching the countryside for us, we can split up and you can get hanged in town.”
“Oh, they’d never catch me!”
“I doubt that,” Arthur grumbled. “But if you’re so confident, you can go into town first to make sure they’re no posters.”
“With pleasure,” Sean said, sarcastically tipping his hat. “You just sit yourself down on a rock and prop up that leg you lost… in an avalanche?”
“First of all, how would that even happen? And no, you’re wrong again.”
“Oh, come on! What haven’t I guessed yet?”
“The right answer?”
“One day, Morgan,” Sean said, stomping off towards town. Arthur laughed, and collapsed onto a rock.
He really could use a soft bed and a good meal. Maybe a hot bath, and then a nap. For a week.
In fact, he was just starting to doze when Sean came crashing back through the brush. “Arthur, get up! You won’t believe it!”
“What? What’s going on?” Arthur asked, fumbling with his revolver. Sean appeared, and right behind him was, “Lenny!”
Arthur hauled himself to his feet, smiling wide. “Arthur!” Lenny said, hugging him. “I missed you.”
“You alright?”
“Well, aside from Dutch sending me scouting with Micah,” Lenny scoffed, “I’m fine.”
“Isaac-”
“He’s fine. Hell, he and Charles kept us alive in those mountains. I don’t know how Charles found deer up there, but he did.”
“Is everyone else okay?” Arthur asked.
Lenny hesitated. “Davey’s dead. And Jenny.”
“I’m sorry,” Arthur told him.
“Damn, not Davey, too,” Sean said. “Those Pinkerton bastards killed Mac.”
“Is town safe?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, so far. It’s real quiet.”
“Camp nearby?”
“No, it’s on the other side of the Dakota in New Hanover. Micah and I were supposed to be scouting, but he’s been drinking ever since we left. I keep telling him we should head back.”
“Well, I think we need you to escort us to the new camp,” Arthur said with a grin. “Let’s let him know we’re leaving.”
“Alright, Arthur.”
“Though, I should probably swing by the stables, grab a horse for me and Sean,” Arthur said.
“I’ll meet you over there.”
Arthur dug through his satchel as he limped over to the stables. He didn’t have much money on him, but it should be enough for a Saddler or Tennessee Walker. He surveyed the horses in the pasture, about to go talk to the stable owner, when a familiar Suffolk Punch whinnied and wandered over. He couldn’t believe it!
“Hey, Rory. Good to see you, buddy,” Arthur said, rubbing his forehead. He quickly checked his satchel, relieved when he found Rory’s papers. “Hey, mister! This is my horse!”
“Sir?”
“My horse got a lost a few weeks ago. I have papers. Where did you find him?”
The stable owner looked over the papers and studied Arthur’s face. “Oh, yeah! Your kid was riding him. He wandered into Strawberry a few days ago.”
“Thanks for taking care of him,” Arthur said, handing him a few dollars for boarding.
“Arthur, you ready?” Lenny said. He and Sean were both on Maggie.
“Where’s Micah?” Arthur asked.
“Wouldn’t come with us. Said he had business to attend to, whatever that means.”
“Ah, who cares? I’d rather not ride with him,” Sean said.
“Lead the way,” Arthur said, hopping on Rory with a grin on his face.
Dutch sighed as he checked the mail, again. The clerk didn’t even wait for his question that time, just saying, “Sorry, pal, nothing for Kilgore.”
“Thank you,” Dutch said, rubbing his eyes as he walked back out. Arthur should have seen their newspaper ad by now, and he couldn’t be too far away. Right?
At least Isaac was out with Hosea. Dutch wouldn’t have to see the disappointment on his face again. He’d been so hopeful when Trelawny appeared. Now, it dwindled with each unsuccessful trip into town.
Annabelle knew immediately when he rode back in, his head hanging down as he gave the Count one more pat on the neck to delay talking to her.
“Nothing?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“It’s only been a few days,” she said. “You know Arthur. He’s probably drawing flowers and not checking the newspapers.”
“Sounds about right,” Dutch said. “Though being a father did give him some responsibility. I just… I was hoping to have news before Isaac and Hosea got back.”
“I know.”
“I… I messed up in Blackwater,” Dutch said. He’d been thinking it for days, ever since they’d settled into the relative safety of New Hanover. “I made a goddamn fool out of myself.”
“Not the first time that’s happened,” Annabelle said.
“I know. But if I… if I got our boy killed, I’ll be worse than a fool.”
“Dutch-”
“He went to town to help us, Anna! I didn’t know. Everyone on that boat agreed to do the job, and they knew the risks. Arthur wasn’t supposed to be involved! If he’s gone, then… I ain’t sure I could move on from that.”
He tried to meet Annabelle eyes, but she was looking past him, a smile growing on her face. “I don’t think you have to,” she said.
“What?”
“Dutch!” Karen shouted, running back towards camp. “You won’t believe it!” Two horses trotted up the trail behind her, Maggie and… Rory?
“Arthur!” Dutch, without realizing it, started running towards his son. Arthur slid off Rory and practically fell into Dutch’s hug. “Oh, son, you’re alright!”
Arthur began to laugh, relieved. “Hey, Dutch, miss me?”
“You have no idea.”
“Come here, Arthur,” Annabelle said, snaking her arms around Arthur and joining the hug. More gang members came over, greeting Sean and Lenny, but giving Dutch, Annabelle, and Arthur some space.
“Wait, Isaac. Where is he?” Arthur asked, pulling back a little.
“Oh, he’s fine, I promise,” Dutch said. “Hosea took him on a little hunting trip, get his mind off things. They should be back tomorrow.”
“Is he okay?” Arthur asked.
“With you here, he will be. Now, I think this calls for a party, what do you say? We need to celebrate!” Dutch said. “Uncle! Head into town, get us some booze!”
“No problem, Dutch,” Uncle said. “Good to see you back, Arthur.”
“Good to see you, too,” Arthur said genuinely, falling back into Dutch and Annabelle.
“Come on, let’s get you over to the fire. You can tell us all about your adventures.”
Arthur hesitated. “I lost Mac. He got shot pretty bad, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“I know. Trelawny heard from bounty hunters that they found his grave. It’s not your fault, son. I’m sure you did right by him.”
“I tried,” Arthur said.
“I know, son. I know.”
They stayed in their hug until Boadicea tried to shove her way between them. Arthur laughed, wrapping his arms around her neck and saying, “Hey girl, I missed you, too.”
Once they got Boadicea to go back to her hay, others started to approach him. Jack ran up, John and Abigail close behind. “Damn, that’s quite a scratch,” Arthur said. “Lenny wasn’t kidding. Didn’t think you could get any uglier.”
“Shut up, Arthur,” John said, laughing.
“Come here,” Arthur said, pulling John into a hug. “You sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me, too.”
The hugs continued as Arthur slowly made his way towards the fire and sat down on a log. Javier shoved a drink in his hand before opening his own bottle. Susan lovingly berated Arthur for the state of his clothes before sniffling and saying how much she missed him. The rest of the girls drifted between him and Sean.
“Wait, where’s Mr. Bell?” Dutch asked, suddenly remembering their other missing gang member.
“Apparently he likes it over in Strawberry and wants to stay a while,” Arthur said.
“What?”
“I don’t know. He told Lenny he had business to attend to. Whatever that means. Look, if he wants to stay in that boring town for a while, let him! There ain’t even a saloon.”
As the party kicked off them, Arthur slid onto the ground and lounged against the log, relaxed and happy. Dutch sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his back and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Most of the gang joined them at the fire, but Charles walked past with a rifle in his hand.
“Wait, Charles, where are you going?” Arthur asked, sitting up.
“I figured someone should keep watch while everyone drinks,” Charles said.
“Oh, camp isn’t going to get attacked for one night. What are the odds? We don’t have that much bad luck,” Arthur said.
Charles hesitated. “I’m not a big fan of parties.”
Arthur nodded and said, “I understand. Just… I want to thank you for looking after Isaac. Lenny said you took him hunting and kept him safe. So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Arthur. We can talk tomorrow. Come find me,” Charles said.
Arthur smiled as Charles walked away, and Annabelle nudged Dutch in the side. “What?” he asked, and she gestured to Arthur and Charles. “Really?”
“What are you two talking about?” Arthur asked.
“Nothing!” Dutch said quickly. Arthur and Charles. Now that he thought about it, they did have a lot in common. He’d never seen Arthur interested in a man before, but then again, he was rarely interested in anybody. And Charles was a good man.
Pearson appeared next, putting a bowl of stew in Arthur’s hands. “Here you go, Mr. Morgan! I bet you missed this!”
“Sure,” Arthur said. “This unknown concoction versus fresh rabbit over the fire.”
“You missed it. Even if you won’t admit it,” Pearson said, patting him on the shoulder.
As the evening continued, Arthur leaned more and more onto Dutch. As adorable as it was to have Arthur dozing on his shoulder, Dutch eventually said to Annabelle, “I think someone is ready for bed.”
“I’d say so.”
Dutch shook Arthur’s shoulder, chuckling when his son let out a groan and snuggled deeper into Dutch’s shirt. “Come on, son, bedtime.”
“Okay,” he mumbled.
But when Arthur tried to stand up, he swayed. He tried taking one step and stumbled. Dutch and Annabelle caught him. “Arthur, you okay?”
“Leg’s stiff,” he said with a groan.
“Alright, we got you,” Dutch said, pulling Arthur’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”
They helped Arthur to bed, slowly stripping off his jacket and boot and leg. “Oh, Arthur, you’re covered in blisters,” Annabelle said.
“I’ll be fine,” Arthur yawned.
“Maybe we still have some of that ointment,” said Dutch. “I’ll check to supply wagon. Why don’t you get into some fresh pajamas, Arthur, and then we’ll see to your leg.”
“Okay.”
Dutch spent a few minutes rummaging through their medical wagon, looking for the blister ointment Hosea sometimes mixed. Fortunately, they still had some left. By the time he returned, Arthur was half asleep on the cot in a fresh union suit. Annabelle was whispering something in his ear, and it made Arthur smile.
“Here we go, son,” Dutch said, sitting on the edge of the cot. He massaged the ointment into Arthur’s leg, smiling fondly as Arthur sighed and sank deeper into the pillows. Before Dutch finished, Arthur was snoring. “Goodnight, son.”
“Goodnight, Arthur,” Annabelle said, tucking blankets around their boy. They went back to the party, content for the first time in weeks.
Arthur woke slowly the next morning, forgetting for a second that he was back in camp. But between Susan and Pearson’s argument over the cooking, Sean’s complaining about being hungover, and Swanson’s drunken singing, he remembered soon enough. He basked in the noises of camp, not wanting to get up just yet.
Someone entered his tent, and he rolled his head towards them, finally opening his eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Morgan,” Susan said. “I was just checking on you. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“That’s alright, Susan. I wasn’t quite asleep.” Arthur sat up, stretching his arms and legs. Damn, he was sore. No more walking from one town to another over several weeks. He needed a horse, or it wasn’t happening. Just as he considered getting up, he looked around the tent and realized his wooden leg wasn’t there. “Susan, where’s my leg?”
“Somewhere safe. I didn’t want you getting any bright ideas of using it with those blisters!”
“Fair enough,” Arthur said. “You have my crutches?”
“Uh…”
“Susan…”
“We burned them,” she admitted.
“What?”
“Oh, don’t give me that! We needed dry kindling in those mountains. It was Annabelle’s idea, blame her!”
“Look, I’m glad you didn’t freeze to death,” Arthur said. “But now what am I supposed to do?”
“We’ll buy you new ones.”
“And until then? I kind of have to get up for… certain things.”
“I’ll bring you a bucket,” said Susan.
“I am not shitting in a bucket.”
“Well, I’ll get one of the boys to help you over to a tree, then,” Susan said, waving him off. And of course she brought back Charles. Arthur’s cheeks burned as Charles helped him over to the trees, hopping on one leg while Charles supported him under his left shoulder.
“This is awkward,” Arthur chuckled, trying to relieve some of the tension once Charles leaned him against a tree.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Charles said.
It was still awkward on the way back, especially because Arthur elected to sit by the main fire instead of in his tent, meaning a longer walk. “Bit embarrassing, hopping like this,” he said.
“I could carry you, if you think that would be better.”
“Faster, maybe,” Arthur said. “But more-”
His next word switch to an undignified yelp when Charles reached down and scooped Arthur into his arms.
“That better?” Charles asked with a laugh, enjoying Arthur’s surprise.
His face burned even more. “This might be worse.”
“Sorry, I’ll put you down,” Charles said.
“Ah, it’s okay. We’re halfway there. Just… warn a feller next time, alright?” Arthur said. Despite his initial shock, he was rather impressed at how easily Charles picked him up. Damn, Charles was strong! Right as he was set against the log, Arthur found his thoughts drifting to what else Charles could do with his strength.
Shit, no. He couldn’t think about that right now. He should think about… breakfast! And Pearson’s probably burned the coffee again. It was going to be gross, but he would drink it anyway because he’d missed coffee over the last few weeks. And Charles was the one bringing him coffee and breakfast, with that subtle half-smile and sitting next to him and-
“How was hiding in the woods with Sean for a few weeks?” Charles asked.
“Alright, I guess,” Arthur said. “It was a bit rough in the beginning, between burying Mac and Sean’s concussion, but we made it. The danger of bounty hunters kept Sean from talking too much.”
“That’s better than I expected.”
“How was it up in the mountains?”
“Cold, but we survived.”
“Who is the woman sitting with Abigail?” Arthur asked.
“That’s Mrs. Adler. Dutch found her in a homestead that the O’Driscolls took over. They killed her husband.”
“Damn. And who’s that feller tied to the tree?”
“That’s an O’Driscoll Dutch had captured up there.”
“And Dutch brought him with you?” Arthur asked.
“He did. I think he’s hoping for information on Colm,” Charles said. “Hosea… he told us what they did to you.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, staring down into his food.
“I understand why Dutch is so determined to find Colm.”
“I don’t,” Arthur said. “We should just avoid them, leave them alone. O’Driscoll’s boys ain’t good fighters anymore, either. Most of the originals have been arrested or killed, so Colm just recruits whoever he can find. They got numbers, sure, but no sense.”
“Not like Dutch’s gang,” Charles said. “I’m glad you’re back, Arthur. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. I’m glad Isaac had you with him, especially since John managed to get himself eaten,” Arthur chuckled.
“I was glad to do it. You’re a good… good friend, Arthur,” Charles said, hesitating slightly over the word friend. “I haven’t been close to anyone like this in a long time.”
“I feel close to you, too,” Arthur said, looking around the camp to make sure everyone else was busy, just in case this conversation was going in the direction he thought it was going.
“I’m glad to be friends, but if you… I don’t have to just- I like you quite a lot, Arthur Morgan. I could see us being more than friends.”
Arthur’s heart beat faster and faster, but he swallowed down the urge to just say yes. “Charles, I have to put Isaac first.”
“Of course, I understand,” Charles said quietly.
“That ain’t a no,” Arthur said. “I just mean that I have to talk to him first. I ain’t ever been in a relationship with him around and… I just need to talk to him.”
“Okay,” Charles said with a smile.
“English!” Sean shouted, stomping over to Arthur. Arthur jumped, sitting up away from Charles. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all this time!”
“What?” Arthur asked.
“You lost your leg to a shotgun? And because of the O’Driscolls at that?”
Arthur’s jaw dropped. “You never guessed it!” he said.
“I guess everything from a horse kicking you to a bear trap, and it was just a shotgun?”
Behind Sean, Lenny was trying to sneak out of camp, his head ducked low. “Dammit, Lenny!” Arthur shouted after him.