Archive of Our Own ^beta

"You're safe now, Arthur."

"That's pretty Dutch, real pretty..."

"Miss Grimshaw, will you sit with him awhile?"

"Of course..."

***

John lingered a few steps from Arthur's dimly lit tent, wondering if he should step inside or not.

He and Arthur hadn't been on the best of terms lately... still, John could see that something had been softening between the two ever since that train robbery back in New Hanover. It was progress, at least.

He wasn't sure if Arthur was asleep, or drugged. He seemed to go between the two almost frequently since he got injured. They pumped morphine into him as soon as he woke up to ease the pain, as he couldn't be taken to a doctor in his current state. They knew immediately when was wearing off, once they could hear the sound of pained moans or howls coming from his tent.

John hadn't even seen Arthur's wound, but he knew it was bad. He heard Reverend Swanson muttering something about "last rites" to Dutch... then, he heard Dutch, low and uncertain, about whether or not they'd be digging a grave come morning.

It was then that John knew he'd have to talk with Arthur, even if only for a moment. After all, this could be his last chance. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't.

Finally, he got the courage to pop his head in and say hello.

"Arthur? You awake?"

From the bed came a slurred mumble: "Whaddya want, Marston...?"

Arthur's voice drawled, heavy with morphine "Y'here to get back at me for what I said about in Colter...?" He said with a lopsided smirk. John wasn't sure if this was a joke, or a jab at him. These days, he rarely could.

"Nah, Arthur... I ain't interested in that... I just came by to see how you're feeling." John muttered, shifting awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

Arthur blinked, surprised. "...Y' did?"

" 'Course I did, Arthur..." John replied, softer than before.
"So? How y' feelin'?"

"Been better... as I'm sure you can tell." Arthur replied sarcastically, still having some wit under the haze.

John couldn't help but laugh. "I can see that..."

He paused for a moment, glancing around the tent. "Y' need anything?"

"Nah... I think I'm good. 'Less you wanna finish the job for me." He snickered.

"I'd... rather not..."

John felt a little uncomfortable hearing this, especially when Arthur dying was still in the realm of possibility.

Did he know that, though?

Arthur gave a weak chuckle, then let his head rest back onto the cot he slept on. "Didn't think you had it in you, anyway..." He murmured slowly, his eyes shut.

"Get some rest, Arthur." He said softly. "You need it."

"Love ya, kid." Arthur mumbled softly, opening his eyes to look at him.

"...sorry?"

"Nothin'..."

"...Love you too, Arthur." John replied, nodding curtly before leaving.

And with that, John left Arthur to rest.