Those who need saving

“It’s nothin’,” he shook his head, still looking away from you. “You don’t need to see it.”

“Look at me,” you instructed, trying to turn him to face you. “Arthur, please look at me.”

If he wanted to, Arthur could easily shake off your hand and storm out of the tent. But he knew that would only hurt you and he couldn’t stand that, although the alternative was sure to upset you as well. 

With a defeated sigh, Arthur moved to face you, allowing you to reach up and take off his hat. He hadn’t been lying, anyway. There was definitely dirt on his face, but it was smeared in with his blood. He had a nasty cut on his eyebrow, the blood spilling down around his eyes and a swollen lip that was adding to the mess. 

You stared up at him with sad eyes, moving one of your hands to softly push some of the hair out of his face. He stared back at you with a frown of his own. 

“I know I look a sight,” he sighed. “But it don’t hurt none, alright?”

You shook your head.

“Why do you always lie to me about this?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Something like that is gonna hurt, you can’t tell me different,” you argued. 

“It stings, sure, but it doesn’t hurt,” he explained. “Just looks a whole lot worse than it is.”

You cupped his cheek, unbothered by the blood on your fingers, and took in the sight of him once more. 

“Anything else?” 

He shook his head softly before he sighed once more, reaching down to unbutton his shirt. You watched his hands go to work, revealing his chest as he shrugged out of the material, allowing you to see the purple bruises forming by his ribs. 

“Gonna tell me that doesn’t hurt, too?” 

“Well it doesn’t tickle,” he huffed. 

You let your hand ghost over the bruises, feeling how swollen they were. You weren’t surprised that he had returned with a few injuries, as minor as they were. Arthur was the enforcer, after all. It was his job to take on the brutes, to take the punches and deliver his own. But his body was always covered in the marks of those responsibilities, and as tough as the man was, it all took a toll. 

You led him over to the cot and had him sit on the edge, moving to grab a piece of cloth and some water. He moved his legs apart when you approached, giving you space to stand between them, and his hands moved to hold your hips, resting comfortably. 

This was a routine you both knew too well. 

As he looked up at you, he could see just how concerned you were as you began to dab his skin, cleaning off the blood. Your fingers moved as gently as possible and if he wasn’t full of guilt and ache, he may have dozed off. 

“Hey,” he whispered softly. “Don’t you go worryin’ ‘bout this. I’m alright.”

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to keep it from wobbling as you cleaned him up.

“I know,” you whispered in return as Arthur ran his hands along your waist, up and down, doing his best to soothe you and himself. “But when you tell me it’s nothin’ when it is somethin’, it makes me think...”

“What?” he prodded gently.

“Makes me think you’ll hide something worse, something bad, and...and I'll lose you and I wouldn’t even know.”

That just about shattered his heart. 

“Ah, sweetheart,” he hung his head shamefully, leaning his forehead against your stomach. “Don’t be thinkin’ like that. You ain’t gonna lose me.”

“You don’t know that,” you shook your head, your hands moving to tangle into his hair. “I know what our life is like, I know what we do to survive, and I know you haven’t got much choice. I just wish you wouldn’t hide from me. I want to know when you’re hurt so I can help, Arthur. I want to help you.”

Arthur shook his head against your stomach, stretching his arms out to loop around you and pull you in closer until he was practically squeezing you.

“Just can’t stand it when you get upset, darlin’,” he admit. “Seein’ you cry hurts a whole lot more than all of this, trust me.”

“I don’t meant to cry,” you sighed, your fingers now tracing over the back of his neck. “Just don’t know what I'd do without you.”

Arthur lifted his head as you looked down at him, his face still swollen and red, but you could see him clearly now. The sincerity in his eyes, the guilt and the pain. You never wanted to make him feel bad for having to go out on jobs, but he was always the one taking the brunt force. Always the one charging into the fight when it became physical because he was the enforcer, he was the big man who could take it. 

“You know, when I'm out there doin’ a job, my mind ain’t even on the damn money. Sure, I want to get the job done right and get the cash, always want it to go cleaner than it does. But all I'm thinkin’ ‘bout is gettin’ back to you. It’s all I'm ever thinkin’ whenever I'm away from you. So don’t you go worryin’ that you’re gonna lose me, darlin’. You’re the very reason I keep comin’ back.”

You crumpled at his words, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, then his cheeks, over his bruises until you pressed your forehead against his own. Arthur pulled back for a moment, lifting you by the waist and placing you in his lap. You wrapped yourself around him, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he nestled into you. 

He needed to change his clothes and you needed to finish cleaning a few more scrapes on his face, but neither of you were willing to let go just yet. He pressed a few kisses just beneath your jaw before he settled in with his head against your chest. 

You scanned the room again, noticing the man still over in the corner, surrounded by a few men you could only assume were his buddies, his lackeys. The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene by telling Karen the truth, but if you continued to stay and drink, it would only increase the risk of him approaching you. 

You stood back and looked around the saloon once more, finding Arthur and the other men on the opposite site of the room by the end of the bar. If Thomas tried anything with you, they would surely step in, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want anyone getting hurt or drawing attention because of you. 

Mary-Beth noticed your hesitation, standing up and putting her arm on yours.

“You alright?” she asked sweetly.

“Yeah, just not feelin’ too adventurous today,” you smiled. “I might head back, get some rest.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, think I'll get an early night. You all stay and have a good time, okay? Don’t get up to too much trouble.”

Mary-Beth grinned, shaking her head.

“Us? Trouble?” she laughed. “Okay, well we’ll see you back at camp. You shouldn’t ride alone, though.”

“I’ll be fine,” you shook your head. 

As you made your way out, you tried to look over your shoulder toward Thomas once again, but you couldn’t see him now. Holding back your panic, you hurried out onto the porch and checked the holster on your leg, making sure you still have your revolver at the ready if you needed it on your journey back.

When you made it over to your horse, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Turning in fright, you jumped at the sight of Arthur Morgan now standing close by.

“Jesus,” you gasped, shaking your head. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, Arthur!”

He held back a chuckle, giving you a small grin as he moved his hands to rest on his belt buckle. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. You alright?” 

“Yeah, just not in the mood for drinking,” you shrugged. “I’m gonna head back.”

“On your own?”

“It’s not too far.”

“Thought you wanted a night out,” he watched you closely. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to avoid his gaze. Arthur was the only person who you had shared your past with and after spending so much time together, he seemed to be able to read you more than you thought. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lied. “I just want to go back.”

Arthur studied you for another moment, looking back into the saloon. 

“Why don’t you come back in and sit by me? I’m not too fond of dancin’ around either.”

“No, it’s okay, really. I-I don’t think I feel like it.”

“Come on, just for a little longer and I might head back with you.”

“No, you should stay. You never get a nice night out, you shouldn’t go back on my account.”

“Can’t have a nice time if I know something’s wrong,” he sighed, staring back down at you. “Somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me.”

You looked up at him with a frown.

“It’s nothin’ Arthur,” 

“It ain’t nothin’ if it’s got you runnin’ off,” he argued. Come on back in-”

“I can’t go back in,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “I want to go back.”

Arthur noticed your firm tone and his gaze darted back into the open doors of the saloon, wondering what you were avoiding. 

“Someone botherin’ you?”

You remained silent, digging your shoes into the dirt beneath your feet, fiddling nervously. A moment later, he reached out and tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Hey, c’mon,” he encouraged. “What’s goin’ on?”

“It’ll only cause trouble.”

Arthur’s jaw twitched a little. 

“What is it?”

“Please just let me go back to camp, Arthur,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to cause a mess.”

“If someone’s botherin’ you, I'm gonna sort it out,” Arthur assured. “But can’t do that if you don’t tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want you to sort it out, I just want-”

“Ahhh, there she is!” 

You both turned to the voice calling out, your eyes landing on a drunken Thomas standing just outside the saloon doors, looking right at you. He had a bottle in his hand and a grin on his lips, but you knew he wasn’t here to have a nice little chat.

Arthur looked back at you, wondering if you knew this man. You could only guess that the look on your face was giving off signs of pure panic and dread given that Arthur’s reaction was to move and stand in front of you protectively, his body shielding you.

“Think you got the wrong lady, mister,” Arthur called back.

Thomas laughed, shaking his head.

“Nah, I wouldn’t forget that lady right there,” he waved his hand in your direction. “She was supposed to be my wife, after all.”

It all clicked in to Arthur’s brain now. This was your ex-fiancee. This was Thomas. The man who laid his hands on you and treated you like no man should ever treat a woman, especially one he’s supposed to love and care for. 

“He did that?”

You ran a hand over the scar across your shoulder, feeling the bumpy skin beneath, knowing it would never fully heal and fade away. It was a deep slash from a knife. Arthur didn’t even have to ask. 

“Yeah, it’s uh...it’s not the nicest to look at,” you sighed, pulling your hair over to cover it. “I usually tell people I got it when I was a kid, runnin’ around doin’ something silly.”

Arthur had to contain his rage as he looked over the scar once more, his body going rigid with anger. 

Looking back at the man now, Arthur wanted to kill him. He was the reason you flinched when the men raised their voices, the reason you cried when you broke something accidentally, the reason you were so timid and afraid. 

Arthur imagined the bruises you had received by this man’s hand, the threats he threw your way, the force he used to hurt you, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting this man walk away tonight.

“Didn’t think I’d be havin’ a little reunion tonight but I gotta say sweetheart, it sure is nice to see ya.”

You glared toward the man, moving closer to Arthur’s back, wishing you could both disappear right now and avoid all this trouble. But instead, Arthur grabbed your hand and walked you back inside the saloon through the side door.

“Hey, don’t be stealin’ her away you bastard!” Thomas called out, his voice fading out as you made it inside. 

Arthur headed straight for the men, signalling for Lenny to come over.

“You take her, take the girls, and get ‘em back to camp, alright? Keep ‘em safe and get ‘em home,” he instructed.

Lenny sobered quickly, checking his belt for his weapons before he took your hand from Arthur’s, gathering the other girls. Arthur gave you a nod as you were pulled away, his eyes serious and angry as he then turned to Charles, John, Javier and Bill. You could only imagine the plan he had in his mind. 

Although Karen and Mary-Beth were less than happy to leave so early, they didn’t question the decision when they saw how upset you looked and how serious Lenny was acting. The ride back to camp was quiet, both on the road and with conversation. Lenny kept his eyes peeled for any trouble, but it seemed you had left it all back at the saloon instead. 

A few hours later, after the others had gone to bed and Lenny had taken watch, you heard the men return. You rushed out of your tent to see them, letting out a long sigh of relief when you noticed none of them were injured. A few bruises and ruffled clothes, but no blood. Although it had caused so much anxiety and worry, the men were still joking and cackling with one another and they hitched their horses. 

Trouble was not foreign to them. At least this time they were able to fight and have the excuse of protecting and defending you rather than just acting like drunken buffoons. 

“Never a dull moment with you lot,” John shook his head, laughing with Javier as they made their way over to the scout fire. 

Arthur gave his brothers a nod of appreciation before he made his way over to you, noticing you standing there in the dark, a blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. 

“You look like you’re freezin’,” he sighed. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I did! I had to know if you were okay.”

“I’m just fine, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”

You gave him a look, shaking your head.

“I’m always gonna worry about you. Especially when you stay behind to take care of my mess.”

“Weren’t your mess,” Arthur shook his head. “It’s not your fault he’s a no-good sack of shit.”

“I drew attention to us,” you sighed. “We’re meant to be laying low.”

“We’re still layin’ low,” Arthur assured. “Ain’t no problems followin’ us from that, don’t you worry.”

You wanted to ask if Thomas was alive, if they had killed him, but you were too afraid to know. The last thing you wanted to do was force Arthur’s hand in hurting someone.

“Listen, you’re part of this gang, alright? We’re...well, we’re like a big family. If you’re in trouble, we’re gonna protect you. What that bastard did to you...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Ain’t none of us gonna let him get that chance again.”

You stared back at him, nodding slowly as you let the weight of the evening really hit you. 

“I didn’t think I'd ever see him again,” you admit. “I didn’t know he was around here, I promise.”

“I know you didn’t,” he sighed. “You done nothin’ wrong, you hear? No one is blamin’ you. Hell, everyone still had a good night.”

You shook your head, giving him a small smile and a shrug of your shoulders.

“I don’t know, I think I owe Karen and Mary-Beth another night out.”

“Believe me, Karen care spare a night away from the bar,” Arthur chuckled. “As for you, I'd be happy to take you out for a drink to make up for cuttin’ it short tonight.”

Your heart almost skipped a beat at the idea of an evening with Arthur. Just the two of you, away from camp and all the prying eyes. 

“I’d like that,” you grinned. 

“C’mon, you should get back to bed,” Arthur smiled, sliding one arm around your back to lead you over to your tent. 

You found yourself leaning into him as you slowed, turning in his arms as you stood before the open canvas. With no one else around, you felt bold enough to wrap your arms around his middle and pull him into a tight hug. Arthur responded immediately, holding you close and tucking you into his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” you whispered into the collar of his shirt. “You really saved me, you know? God, you make me feel so safe. I’ve never had that before, so...thank you.”

Arthur moved his head a little to press a kiss to the top of yours, squeezing you tighter. 

You looked down toward your stomach, unable to see your feet or the ground below. 

“I’m miserable, Arthur.”

With a long sigh, Arthur moved closer and placed his hands on either side of your swollen bump. Your skin was tight, ready to burst, and yet the little babe inside seemed to feel no rush at all. 

“Listen to me,” Arthur began, his voice low and gentle. “I know you’re miserable, darlin’. I wish there was somethin’ I could do to fix it all, but we...we just gotta wait.”

“I have been waiting!” you cried, leaning forward to press your forehead against his chest. 

You felt his hand move from your belly to the base of your neck, his lips pressing a kiss to your hair as he held you close. 

“I know, honey. I told you any child of mine would be a troublemaker,” he grinned. “Just didn’t think they’d be startin’ so early.”

You shook your head against him, unable to let yourself laugh along with him. You were beyond exhausted and all you wanted to do was sleep, but something in your body kept telling you to move. You found no comfort in laying down, in sitting still and now even walking around was making you ache. 

“Abigail said this is what it’s like right before the baby comes,” you sighed. “She said she felt horrible for the whole day before Jack came. But it’s been three days, Arthur. I can’t do another like this, I just can’t.”

Arthur rubbed your back as you cried, his heart aching for you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he hummed. “God, the things you do for me. For us. I promise, I ain’t ever gonna let this kid forget the grief they caused you.”

You pulled your head up to look at him, your red eyes rimmed with tears. Arthur brushed a finger below them both, wiping away the drops as they spilled over.

“I just wish they were here already,” you sighed. “I’ve been so happy these past few months. Livin’ in this home with you, making it our own, having an actual life instead of running. It’s been a dream, hasn’t it?”

“Mm, sure has been,” Arthur agreed, giving you a nod as he looked down at you with dreamy, adoring eyes. 

“And I don’t wanna end it being like this,” you huffed. “Ain’t had a day all week that I haven’t cried to you ‘bout something.”

“Ah, don’t worry none ‘bout that,” he shook his head. “Cry to me all you want, you hear? Told you I ain’t goin’ nowhere and I mean it. Ain’t goin’ nowhere without you, ever. No matter how much you cry.”

You smiled at him, feeling a new wave of emotions come over you.

“You know, Abigail said she got real mad with John toward the end,” you explained. “Didn’t like bein’ around him at all ‘cause he was the reason she felt so horrible. But I can’t seem to stay mad at you. As miserable as I feel, you just won’t complain, will you?”

Arthur smirked down at you.

“No ma’am,” he answered dutifully. “You’ll hear none from me.”

“But I'm painful to be around these days.”

“Only ‘cause you’re in pain,” he explained. “Hell, I'd be cursing and hollering from sun up to sun down if I were you.”

You let out a little giggle at that, once again leaning down to rest against his chest. 

“When the time comes, I'll be cursing and hollering alright, you can be sure of that.”

“I got no doubt. You got a hell of a mouth on you, my lady,” he chuckled. “But I'll still be right there with you the whole time.”

Arthur ran his hand through your hair and kissed you once more, holding you steady in his arms as he looked out at the rain. 

It had taken so long to get here. To escape the life you were both tied up in, to find your way out of all the trouble that came your way. But this was it now. This was life, and you were lucky enough to share it together. 

⭐️Send prompts ⭐️

_________________________

Arthur/Reader 

“Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” 

“Always keep you safe”

Kidnapped 

Making it Official

Drunk Reader/Grumpy Arthur

Running into Mary 

"Will you please just let me help you” 

Hiding an injury

Panic Attack

Touch Starved (Arthur)

Shaving

“I think I love you”

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

“I don’t wanna be without you”

Saved (tw: SA)

“Stop acting like you don’t matter”

“What if you don’t come back?”

“I’m so damn in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself”

“I’m scared + It hurts” 

“I think you should kiss me”

_________________________

Arthur/OC Grace

“Come on, let’s get you to bed”

“I’ve dreamed about this”

_________________________

Arthur + Maya (Platonic/Mentor Relationship)

Maya 

_________________________

Arthur/Reader + OC Daughter Addie

Morning Ride

“You have my word”

Running into Mary

Arthur/Reader - Prompts inspired by songs/lyrics 

Once they were out of the tent, you allowed yourself to roll over onto your back and rub your eyes. The sun was still rising, the sky glowing brighter by the second, and you moved over slightly to look out the gap in the tent’s opening, spotting your little girl and her father. 

Arthur had her bundled up in a sheepskin coat and fluffy gloves as he lifted her onto the horse in front of him. He pressed his hat down onto his head before grabbing the reigns with one hand, the other wrapping around Addie’s middle as the made their way out into the open field. 

You were camped out by the mountain, spending some time away from the gang with just the three of you, and you were to head back today. Addie loved riding with Arthur, pretending she was the one spurring the horse on. He never rode too fast with his daughter, but lucky for him, she was more interested in pointing out every single thing they passed. 

“Daddy look!” Addie gasped, pointing out at purple flowers covering the field. “Pretty!”

“They sure are,” Arthur nodded. “Smell that? They even smell pretty.”

“What is it?”

“It’s lavender. Your mama had some in her hair yesterday.” 

Addie’s eyes widened.

“Oh, yeah! She looked like a princess!” 

Arthur grinned as they made their way closer to the stream, nodding in agreement.

“Sure did,” 

Arthur led the horse along the water, enjoying the sound of the running steam and the fish jumping beneath the surface. Addie clutched his arm as she leaned over to peek down at the water, making Arthur adjust his grip to hold her steady. Soon enough, her attention was taken by some of the deer taking a drink. They continued like this for a while, until Addie spoke up.

“Do we have to go home today?” 

Living with the gang was the only life Addie had known, and sometimes Arthur forgot how little she knew about living free like they had been for the last few days. She didn’t know that it couldn’t be forever. At least, not yet. One day Arthur would get them out of this life. It was a vow he had made to himself long ago, when Addie was still growing inside you, and one that he promised you when he first held her in his arms. 

Things just kept happening and the gang’s problems kept getting worse. They always needed Arthur’s help, and he couldn’t turn his back on them. Not until they were okay. But as each day passed and Dutch continued to make risky decisions, Arthur knew there would never be a good time to leave. His guilt kept him captive to a life he didn’t want for his daughter, and he was going to work as hard as he could to get them out, no matter what it took. 

“Yeah, we do, sweetheart. I'm sure they’re missin’ you ‘round camp,” he offered. “And we got all our jobs we gotta do.”

Addie sighed, leaning back against him. 

“But I like it here.”

“I know you do,” he grinned, leaning down slightly to press a kiss to her little forehead. “I like it out here too.”

“So why can’t we stay?” she pleaded, looking up at him with her brown doe eyes. 

Normally, those eyes could ask anything of Arthur and he would do it. 

“One day we’ll live somewhere even prettier,” he assured.

“Prettier than this?” she gasped.

“Mhm, prettier than anythin’ you seen before, just you wait.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, it’s far away from here, that’s why we gotta wait. But I promise you, we’ll be livin’ like this one day.”

Addie smiled, looking back out at the morning dew on the flowers. 

“Me and mama can pick flowers all the time,” she giggled. 

Arthur could picture that in his head and it made his heart soar. It was all he wanted in this whole world. The three of you settled down in a nice house somewhere far from trouble, surrounded by nature and animals and nothing but peace. 

After riding around the field a little while longer, Arthur turned the horse back in the direction of your tent, grinning as he watched you walk out, bundled up in your coat. 

“Look, your mama’s awake,” he poked Addie’s side for her to glance up.

“Hi mama!” she called out, full of glee.

“Hi baby,” you waved back. “You takin’ daddy for a ride, huh?”

“Yup!” she cheered, showing you her chubby hand gripping the reigns alongside Arthur’s. 

Once they were closer, Arthur lifted Addie off the horse and handed her off to you. You hugged your daughter close, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she pulled back to smile up at you.

“Mama, guess what?” Addie giggled. “Daddy said one day we gonna live somewhere so pretty!”

You looked up at Arthur who was grinning back at you, but you could see the slight sadness in his eyes. The shame that he held for not being able to provide that life for you right now.

“Is that so?” you sighed, running your fingers through Addie’s unruly curls. “Well, your daddy always keeps his word, doesn't he?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. 

“He’s got big dreams for us, you know? We’re very lucky to have your daddy,” you smiled, moving over to steal a kiss from the man. 

“Nah, I’m the lucky one here,” he chuckled. “Look at you two. I’m the luckiest son of a...well, I'm a real lucky man.” 

You gave him a little smirk at his words.

“C’mon now, I know you both went off without any food,” you turned toward the smouldering fire. 

As Addie got settled with some crackers while you readied some of the food you had packed, Arthur made his way over to you and put a hand on your hip to grab your attention.

“I’m gonna get us out,” he told you softly. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” you sighed, moving to cup his cheek. “I’ve never doubted you on that.”

Arthur gave a slight nod.

“I’m gonna put away everything I got, everything I earn, from now on-”

“Hey, I know that, and we’ll get there,” you assured. “For now, right here this morning, we’re free. Let’s enjoy it a little longer, alright?”

Arthur sighed and nodded once again, a smirk growing on his lips as he turned to head toward the little pile of wood for the fire. 

“There’s more there than we would have made today,” you told him, your voice shaky and strained. “Just gotta find a fence for the rest of it.”

“Well...” Dutch trailed off, looking between you and the satchel. “That’s...that’s much appreciated. Where did you get all this?”

You shook your head, giving a little shrug.

“Heard of a...a little hideout not too far. Thought I'd try my luck. Couldn’t get any worse, huh?”

Dutch watched you closely, noticing the bruises over your face and the blood seeping through your pants. 

“Miss Grimshaw can have a look at you-”

“No, I don’t need that,” you shook your head. “Just gotta get some rest, I think.”

Dutch looked like he wanted to argue with that, but you were already walking away. You passed by your makeshift tent, grabbing the small box of supplies, and made your way over to the trees. There was a small clearing not too far from the other tents, and you decided to set yourself up against one of the old tree stumps with a dim lamp. The last thing you wanted was Micah catching a glimpse and teasing you while you tried to stitch up your leg. 

it was hard to suppress the groan as you pulled your leg out of your pants, using your coat to cover yourself and focus in on the wound. The bastards had stuck a knife in your thigh, and it felt like they had only just missed the nerves inside. 

You hadn’t even started threading the needle when you heard footsteps approaching, and you looked up in a panic to see Arthur making his way over. 

“The hell did you get yourself into now?” he asked, his brows pulled together in concern as he caught a glimpse of your leg.

“Just a scratch,” you huffed, looking up to him. “What do you want?”

“Doesn’t look like a scratch.”

“Well it ain’t on your leg, is it?” 

“It looks deep.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back on the tree stump and took a deep breath. It had been a long, exhausting day. The last thing you needed was more unwanted prodding.

“Look, I know I screwed up today, but can you just leave me alone? I got enough from everyone else all afternoon, I just want a goddamn rest.”

Arthur continued to stare back at you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your leg and back. You could see him taking in your bruises as well. There was no hint of a smirk on his lips, no attempt to tease or insult. Instead, he only looked worried.

“That ain’t gonna be fun to do on your own,” he sighed. “I’m not the best, but I could help ya.”

You shook your head, sucking in a deep breath as your fingers grazed over the bloody wound.

“I don’t need your help.”

“I’m sure you don’t, but it'd be done a lot quicker if someone else did the stitching.”

“I’ve stitched myself up plenty, I know how to do it,” you bit out. “Why don’t you just go back to ignoring me, huh?”

“Jesus, I'm just trying to help!” Arthur huffed.

“Yeah, well that’s all I've been trying to do, too!”

Arthur put his hands on his hips, watching as you reached for the bottle of gin to disinfect the gash. You groaned in pain, biting down on your lip before you pulled the bottle up to your lips and took a long swig. 

“I’m not gonna stand and watch you tear your leg up even more,” he shook his head. 

“So walk away then, I never asked you to watch,” you growled. 

Arthur muttered to himself, moving around you to kneel down at your side. He took the needle from your hand and wiped your leg with the cloth, intent on doing it for you despite your protests.

“No, leave it!” you snapped, flinching at his touch. “I don’t want your help!”

“Stop bein’ so goddamn stubborn, woman!”

“I don’t want help! I want to fix it myself! It’s my fault, let me do it!” 

Arthur sat back for a moment, still holding the needle despite your hand reaching out to take it from him.

“You messed up today, sure. Don’t mean you gotta do this on your own. It ain’t a punishment,” he sighed. “I saw the score you brought in. Done more than enough to make up for it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re gonna be nice to me again? ‘cause I brought in some cash?”

“Because you’re hurt, you damn fool!”

“I don’t need your-”

“Would you just shut up? Just for a goddamn second. Is that possible?” he asked. 

“I don’t want your help, Arthur! I’ve had enough of it! This camp don’t need me around, you know that. All I been doin’ is eating your food, taking up a bed and causing problems. Just let me do this and I can leave.”

“You know that’s all bullshit,” he shook his head. “Listen, you’re hurt. Will you just...just please just let me help you?”

Arthur didn’t let the argument continue, leaning over you to begin the stitches. you groaned and clenched your fists at your side. It felt like you were being stabbed all over again with each pass of the needle through your skin.

“Goddamn it!” you cried.

“I did say I wasn’t the best,” he sighed. “Not too much more left.”

You sat silently as he worked, squeezing your eyes closed as the pain travelled through your body. Before too long, it was finally done. You looked down to watch his hands nervously cover your leg back up with your coat, using the cloth to wipe his bloodied hands. 

“Take it easy or they’re gonna tear,” he advised. “Should get you through the night, though.”

You gave him a nod.

“Thank you,”

“Ain’t nothin’.”

“Didn’t think you’d be stitching me up,” you sighed. “Micah told me you were just a grumpy asshole.”

Arthur shook his head.

“Mm, well, normally I wouldn’t advise listenin’ to a word from that bastard, but he was probably right.”

“Most grumpy assholes wouldn’t help stitch someone’s leg up after the mess they’d caused,” 

“Told you, bleedin’ out ain’t a punishment for messin’ up. We’ve all done it,” he shrugged. “Just happened to be your day.”

“Lucky me,” you sighed. 

You both sat in silence for a moment as you packed up the supplies, leaning back against the tree stump to let your body relax. 

“So you’re leaving then?” he asked, slipping a cigarette between his lips before lighting it. “Had enough of this lot?”

“I’d say you all have had enough of me, that’s for sure,” you huffed. “Made it very clear I ain’t too liked here.”

“Nah, you had a bad day,” he shook his head. “The amount of times Bill has messed up, you’d think he’d be long gone by now. But none of ‘em ever went back out there to bring back an even bigger score like you did.”

“I was an idiot,” you explained. “Actin’ all cocky, trying to prove myself. But I don’t need to. I got by just fine before I came here, I'm sure I'll be just fine if I head off.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you’ll be just fine,” Arthur chuckled. “Maybe not too fine if you end up needing stitches again, but I reckon otherwise you’d be alright. But you don’t have to leave, you know? Ain’t none of us wishing that.”

“Didn’t sound like anyone wanted me here this afternoon.”

“Look, we’re a bunch of assholes, you know that. We ain’t always gonna be nice, ain’t gonna say good job when it weren’t. But, well, that’s why we stick together. Keep each other goin’. There’s plenty out there you can’t do on your own, none of us can, and it’s always better to have people around who can watch your back, too.”

You looked over at him and he extended his hand, offering you the cigarette. You took it with a soft smile, taking a long drag before handing it back. 

“So, do you wait for everyone else to go to bed before you stop bein’ a grumpy asshole?” you asked. “’cause you’re kinda proving Micah wrong at the moment.”

Arthur chuckled.l

“Well, I'm less of an asshole when he ain’t around, that’s for sure,” he chuckled, standing up. “C’mon now, I’ll help you to your tent. Rest, make your mind up in the morning.”

You let him take most of your weight as you hobbled over to your bedroll, leaning on him as you lowered yourself down. Once you were laying down, you could barely keep your eyes open. You saw Arthur smile down at you as he turned out the lantern, making his way over to his wagon.

You kept your eyes on him as he walked away, thinking about what he said. He showed you more kindness than you deserved tonight, and you thought maybe you’d stick around a little while longer. Maybe. 

As lovely as the others were, welcoming you with warm clothes and a clean bed, you only felt completely safe with Arthur around. You would never forget the iron grip he had on you as he brought you back to this camp, shielding you from the danger you had endured for so long.

On the first night in camp, you had heard gunshots in the distance, jolting you awake. The others continued to sleep through the noises, snoring away as if there were nothing to worry about. You carefully stood, stepping around Tilly and Mary-Beth as you walked further into the camp, searching.

You found Arthur’s wagon thanks to the lamp he still had lit on his bedside table. You had hoped he’d be awake, but you found him sleeping soundly as well. Trembling slightly, you wandered into his open tent, crouching down on the fur blanket by his bed and curling up on your side.

When Arthur woke up a few hours later to take over the camp’s watch, he almost yelped in surprise to find you sleeping next to him on the ground. He had given you his coat earlier that night when he saw you shivering, and you still had it wrapped around you now as you slept peacefully. 

Arthur debated with himself for a moment about leaving you there on the hard ground before he gently leaned down and lifted you into his arms. You stirred immediately, grabbing at him with a small gasp of panic.

“Shh, you’re alright,” he soothed in that same gentle voice. “Figured a bed might be a little better for ya.”

He deposited you on his bed softly, pulling the blanket up over your body. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I heard noises and I thought...I thought they were coming for me.”

“You’re okay, don’t gotta be sorry,” he shook his head. “I know it’s scary, bein’ here. We’re not the best kind of folk, but we ain’t gonna let them take you, okay? You’re safe here, we’re gonna protect you.”

You nodded in understanding, but you were still frightened.

“Where are you going?”

“Takin’ over watch,” he explained. “We take turns, keep the gang safe. No one’s gonna get you here, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

“I didn’t mean to be a bother,” you apologised again. “I can go back to my bed-”

“Stay here,” he insisted. “Just sleep, keep warm, alright?”

“When will you be back?” 

“Few hours. By then Pearson will have some food ready and you can eat some more. For now, just rest.”

You gave him a nod, succumbing to your slumber once again. Arthur watched you carefully for another moment before he dragged himself away, heading out to take over from Lenny on the edge of camp.

Arthur didn’t know why you had taken such a liking to him, but then again, he also didn’t know why he felt so fiercely protective of you despite you being a stranger. You had looked so terrified when he found you. So afraid and so hurt, like a little animal cowering in the corner. You were only fifteen, after all. Too young to see such violence let alone be victim of it. 

You continued to sleep by Arthur’s bed over the next few nights, dragging your bedroll over in the middle of the night. He had told you it was safe to sleep by the other women, or even Miss Grimshaw, but you always wound up back at his side. Arthur didn’t want anything to seem inappropriate, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be firm with you on the matter. 

“That girl follows you around like a little puppy dog,” Susan had chuckled one morning once Maya left the table to clean up her bowl.

“No idea why,” Arthur huffed, slightly embarrassed. “I ain’t the most pleasant to be around.”

“She trusts you, Arthur,” Hosea explained, coming to stand by the table, sipping his coffee. “Can you remember when you first joined me and Dutch? You were about the same age as young Maya. Every move we made, you were there.”

Arthur shook his head.

“This ain’t like that,” 

“Sure, it is. You were the first person to show her kindness in a long time, Arthur. She trust you won’t hurt her.”

“’course I ain’t gonna hurt her,” Arthur huffed. “Don’t mean she won’t get hurt followin’ me around.”

And, unfortunately, Arthur had been right about that. He was out by the river one evening letting his horse cool off when you made your way down the trail toward him. You had a few apples in your satchel and a fishing pole over your shoulder, hoping to ask for some bait. You missed fishing with your brother, and after a few weeks growing comfortable with the gang, you felt like getting back to something familiar. Something calming and quiet.

But when you reached the river, you saw two men holding Arthur at gunpoint. They had their faces covered, most likely looking to rob. 

“Give us all you got, mister!” they threatened. 

You began to tremble with fear, but it wasn’t for yourself this time. They were about to shoot Arthur, and he didn’t have his gun ready at all. Panicked, you reached into your satchel and grabbed one of the apples, holding it firm as you debated with yourself. Then, as the man held his gun up higher toward Arthur’s head, you threw the apple with all your might. 

It didn’t knock the gun from the man’s grip, but it shocked him enough to stumble backward.

“Hey! You little bitch!” the other yelled, spotting you.

Then, Arthur finally had his chance to reach for his revolver. The two men dropped dead in a second, their bodies falling to the ground with a final thud. 

“What the hell was that!” Arthur boomed, making his way over to you. “Jesus, Maya! What were you thinking!” 

Your eyes were still wide, looking between the bodies and Arthur as he marched in front of you.

“They w-were gonna shoot you!” 

“They were gonna shoot you if they had another second! You could have been killed, Maya. What the hell are you even doing out here?”

Your voice was shaking as you answered him, your hands clutching at your satchel.

“I w-was bringing some f-food, and I was going to d-do some fishing,” you explained. “You said w-we could do that today.”

Arthur shook his head, hands on his hips as he turned his back to you.

“I told you not to be following me out of camp, kid. Jesus, what makes you follow me everywhere anyway? Can’t go anywhere without you trailin’ behind me, getting yourself into something you got no business in! I can’t keep worrying you’re gonna get hurt because of me, Maya. This could have gone real bad-”

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you pleaded. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Listen to me, kid. I am not someone you should be lookin’ up to. I’m not your father, I'm not your mentor, I'm not even your friend, you hear? You stay by me, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You fought back the sob that crept up your throat, tears growing in your eyes. Arthur knew he had gone too far as soon as the words left his mouth, but it was better this way. If you chose Hosea instead, you’d actually learn something. You’d be cared for, educated, mentored. Arthur couldn’t do that. He would only get you hurt just like everyone else he’s ever cared about. It was better this way.

“But you said you liked showin’ me things,” you reminded. “You said I wasn’t a bother.”

“Yeah, well,” Arthur sighed, making his way over to the bodies to move them behind some bushes. “Ain’t like that no more. Go on back to camp and stay out of trouble, you hear me? Go!”

So you did. You rushed back to camp crying, wiping at your tears as you hurried over to the shady clearing by a tree. It was your favourite spot to sit every day. Arthur had given you a pencil and a small journal, encouraging you to draw and get all your thoughts out onto the paper. Sometimes he helped you with your reading, too. You weren’t too bad, really. You were beginning to think he had you read to him because he liked it, not to give you practice. Because it calmed you both down. It made you feel safe.

But now it was different. Arthur didn’t want to be around you anymore. He didn’t want you bothering him. 

I’m not your father.

I’m not even your friend.

The others noticed your distant behaviour immediately. You moved your bedroll away from Arthur’s tent, opting to lay awake by the women at night rather than enjoy a peaceful sleep.

You had been such a fool to think that man cared beyond his duty. To think he would care to spend time with you. You knew he wasn’t your father, you didn’t mean to enforce that role onto him, but you couldn’t help feeling like a lost little child all over again. Arthur had made you feel so safe, so protected, so warm. Now you were cold, alone and scared once again.

A few days had passed without any communication with Arthur at all. He kept to himself in the camp when he wasn’t out on a job, and Hosea had taken his place with you by the tree each day.

“I annoyed him,” you told the man, shaking your head. 

“You didn’t annoy him, Maya,” Hosea assured. “Arthur...he’s not the best at showing he cares. He, well, he’s been through a lot. He had people he loved in the past, and they passed away, and he’s blamed himself ever since. In his mind, anyone who’s close to him will only end up hurt. He thinks he’s got some kind of curse because of the life he lives.“

“I shouldn’t have followed him around so much,” you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your chin on top. “Just wanted to learn stuff. I’ve never skinned a rabbit before, I thought it was pretty gross, but now I know. And I know how to tie a proper knot. And I can use a bow. He showed me all of that. I just didn’t know I was gettin’ in the way.”

“You weren’t,” Hosea promised. “I’d say he scared himself. I know that boy well. Can tell when he’s in a mood, when’s he’s bein’ a goddamn fool, and when he’s scared. Don’t happen too often, but that’s ‘cause he doesn’t let anything go on long enough.”

“He’s scared…because of me?”

Hosea nodded.

“Probably realised just how much he cares, Maya. Like I said, he reckons he’s cursed.”

“He said we wasn’t my father, or my mentor,” you told him. “Said he…he wasn’t even my friend.”

“He’d say anything to get you to stay away,” Hosea sighed. “He’s been like that since he was a young boy. Pushes everyone away so it don’t hurt as much when they leave.”

You stared back at Hosea, your eyes flickering between the older man and into camp where you could see Arthur smoking by the main fire. He always looked rather miserable, always irritated and seeking some peace, but he looked a little sadder now.

“But I won’t leave,” you shook your head. “How can I? I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“He’s tryin’ not to get attached. But it seems a little late for that.”

You leaned your head back against the tree, lifting your chin off your knees.

“I’m not gonna make him spend time with me if he doesn’t want to,” you shrugged. “I’m not his…he ain’t my father, I know that. I didn’t mean to make him feel like he had to take care of me.”

Hosea nodded, looking over to Arthur as well, wishing he could knock some sense into the man. He might have acted like an idiot from time to time, but Hosea knew he had plenty of sense to fix this situation.

As the days went on, you became more and more closed off. You went for walks on your own, your bow strapped to your back, and looked for some rabbits to bring back to camp. Eventually, Charles offered to take you out for a proper hunt. Instead of rabbits, you managed to bring back two deer from the hills around camp. Charles had encouraged you to skin one of them, coaching you through each step just like Arthur had done. 

“Well done Miss Daniels,” Pearson grinned when you threw the carcass down.

“It was all Charles,” you explained. “But I helped skin it!”

“You’re getting better with the bow,” Charles nodded. “Keep practicing your aim and we’ll go out again in a few days.”

Arthur was standing by the fire when you walked by, and he gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment. You smiled back at him softly, wishing you could just run up to him and tell him all about your hunt. You wanted to show him how much you had improved with the bow, to show him how you could skin someone bigger than a rabbit, but you held back. Arthur was only just starting to pay attention to you again, and you didn’t want to risk annoying him once more.

Although you didn’t see, Arthur rarely kept his distance from you, really. When you went for your walks, he made sure to stick close to the trail you were on. He made sure you ate, had all the supplies you needed, and that he could easily step in if you were in trouble. Even if he didn’t want to care, didn’t want to get too close, he couldn’t help it. You were so trusting and innocent to this life, he didn’t want to see you get hurt.

But he would soon learn that keeping you away from him didn’t mean you were out of danger. It was everywhere, no matter what anyone did. Rival gangs, masked raiders, the law. There was no real safety. 

Arthur returned to camp one evening just as the sun was setting, stretching out his legs once he climbed off his horse. He had been on an errand all day, riding out to meet a fence with Javier, and was finally feeling the brunt of his exhaustion. 

“Arthur,” Hosea called out softly, making his way over to the hitching post. 

“Hosea,” Arthur nodded. 

“Didn’t know when you’d be back,” the older man sighed. “We’ve given young Maya your bed for the night.”

Arthur frowned in concern.

“She alright?”

“Her and Sean had a run in with a couple of O’Driscoll’s out near the river. They were lookin’ to do some fishin’ and one of ‘em recognised her while they were riding, tried to take a shot.”

“Is she-”

“She’s okay, Arthur. Horse spooked and bucked her off. Got a few bruises and a bad leg, but nothin’ too serious. Scared her more than anything else, really.”

“Jesus,” Arthur shook his head. “What the hell were they doin’ over there on their own?”

“It’s been rather quiet, there’s no harm in going fishin’. Sean took care of ‘em, but Maya ain’t feelin’ too good as you can imagine.”

Arthur immediately felt regret for leaving camp. If he had stayed, he could have gone along and kept you safe. He told you he would protect you from O’Driscoll’s, from anyone trying to hurt you, but when it finally happened he was nowhere to be found.

“She’s been askin’ for you,” Hosea told him quietly. 

Arthur shook his head.

“She don’t need me-”

“I think it’s time you gave all this up, don’t you? You’ve been ignoring that girl for weeks now and I’ve understood your reasons, Arthur. But it’s time to stop pretending, son. It’s doin’ neither of you any good.”

“But she-”

“She’s terrified, Arthur. Not too long ago she watched her family die at the hands of those men, and she worries every day that they’ll be coming for her and everyone she’s started to care for, including yourself. What if Dutch or myself had turned our back on you when you came along? What if we left you in camp with the others to busy yourself, ignoring you and making you feel like a burden after we took you in? Just think about that, Arthur.” 

With that, the older man walked off, leaving Arthur to decide for himself. Arthur debated for a while, looking around camp where everyone continued on with their evening. Sean sat by the fire, his eyes flickering between Arthur and his tent where you laid. He looked like shit, nursing a bandaged shoulder and bloody nose. Arthur sighed and made his way over to the man, noticing how tense Sean became.

“Oh Jesus, here we go,” the Irishman whined. “Don’t go cursin’ at me Morgan! How was I supposed to know those assholes would come along?”

Arthur didn’t say a word as Sean defended himself, readying himself for a slap up the head or a barrage of nasty words. But Arthur only shook his head. 

“You killed the bastards?” 

Sean nodded, slightly confused by his calm demeanour.  “I sure did.”

“Good,” Arthur nodded, turning away and walking toward his tent. 

You were propped up against some pillows when he walked in, eyes growing wide as you jumped at his sudden appearance. Arthur cursed himself for not announcing or asking to enter but, out of habit, he had rushed inside. You had a few bruises growing on your cheeks and your leg was elevated on a pile of blankets, but otherwise you were okay. Alive and breathing. 

Arthur felt some tension leave his body at the sight of you, but it began to well up again once he noticed the tears growing in your eyes.

“Shit, you alright?” he asked, taking a step closer. “You hurtin’?”

“N-no,” you sobbed, willing your tears to stop. “I’m okay.”

“You’re cryin’,” he sighed. “Want me to get Susan for ya?”

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. You stared up at him, your eyes red and full of tears, and you broke down all over again.

“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I’m sorry, Arthur!”

Arthur crouched down beside the cot, taking your hand into his own. 

“Hey, hey, no need for that,” he shook his head. “Shh, Maya, don’t cry-”

“I got into trouble again, I k-keep gettin’ into a mess and everyone else has to fix it and I'm s-sorry that I’m so annoying, I’m trying not to b-be but I'm s-sorry!”

Arthur hated how cruel he had been. The last thing he wanted was to cause you any pain, but he had made you believe you were a problem, a kid who only got in the way. His heart ached as he watched you cry, doing your best to control yourself and stifle the tears, to stop acting like a small child. 

“You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You hear me?” he told you, moving his hand up to cup your cheek. “Nothin’.”

You felt his thumb brush along the skin beneath your eye, wiping away the warm tears and soothing you until they stopped spilling over.

“You’re not annoying, Maya,” he shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry that I...I shouldn’t have said all that to you, it weren’t right. I ain’t too bright, and I ain’t too good with words, but I sure know how to make a mess of things.”

You shook your head, sniffling. 

“I’m sorry I followed you around so much,” you sighed. “I just liked learnin’ stuff and watchin’ you. And I didn’t mean to be a bother sleeping by your tent, I just...I get so scared at night, I can’t help it.”

“Listen, after how we found you, and all you been through, ain’t no one blamin’ you for being scared, alright?”

You nodded as he spoke, hoping to be done with your tears. 

“I thought they were gonna take me back today,” you admit. “And I was so scared, ‘cause if they took me, I know you’d come after them, and then...then they’d kill you too.”

Arthur shook his head, a light smirk pulling at his lips. 

“I ain’t gonna die by an O’Driscoll, sweetheart. It’ll take a lot more n’ that,” he assured. “But you’re right, I’d come after ‘em, and I'd bring you right back. But you don’t gotta every worry about that, okay? As long as I'm around, as long as you’re part of this gang, you’re safe. I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. And I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, how to defend yourself for when...well, when I ain’t here someday.”

You looked up at him with a small smile, trying not to get your hopes up but unable to hold back the question anyway.

“You’re gonna teach me?”

“You should learn from me, not someone else,” he nodded. “And anything else you wanna learn, too.”

Now you were smiling, despite the ache in your leg. Somehow none of the day even mattered anymore.

“Is that gonna be okay?” you asked, cautious. “I don’t want to annoy-”

“Maya, I ain’t too good at none of this, alright? I’m not...I ain’t someone that anyone should be lookin’ up to. I’m not a good man, I'm not...not meant to be a father, of sorts. I’m a miserable old man, and I ain’t nice-”

“You saved me, Arthur,” you explained. “I’ve never seen you as anything but a good man. Before you came along, those men, they...they weren’t nice. They were bad man, and you aren’t. A good man wouldn’t have brought me back here to his camp. If you were truly bad, if you weren’t nice, you’d have left me there.”

Arthur shook his head. 

“Just doin’ the decent thing.”

“The good thing,” you assured. “The first bit of good that I'd had in a long time, you know?”

Arthur looked back at you, his eyes scanning over your face before he pulled your blankets up, keeping you warm. 

“I should’a been the one takin’ you fishing. I should’a been there to protect you, Maya.”

“I scared you, didn’t I?” you asked. “Hosea said you weren’t really mad at me, just...just scared.”

Hanging his head down, Arthur gave a small nod.

“Been a while since I had anything worth protecting,” he admit. “And Hosea...Jesus, that man thinks he knows me more than I do. But, s’pose he's right.”

“I’m gonna get better, you know? I’m gonna get better at hunting, and shooting, and I'm gonna be able to protect myself, and I can look out for you too, you know? I’m gonna be better.”

“You ain’t gotta be better, Maya. You’re a kid, ain’t your job to think of keepin’ me safe,” he insisted. “But I want you to learn how to protect yourself if I ain’t around, if anything happens, if you ever get stuck.”

You listened to his reasoning and gave a nod. You hoped he would take you hunting soon so you could show him how much you’ve improved. And how well you’re riding now. But that could wait. For now, sleep was pulling you under.

“Stop fightin’ them eyes, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Go to sleep, you need to rest.”

“Are you staying?” you asked softly.

Arthur already had his journal out, flicking through pages to find a spot to begin scribbling.

“Stayin’ right here,” he assured.

A few minutes passed as you closed your eyes, feeling half-awake and half-asleep, listening to the sounds of his pencil against the pages. 

“Arthur?” you mumbled, barely coherent.

“Mm?” he hummed.

“Can we be friends, then?” 

You tried to pry your eyes open, and through the blurry mess of your vision and the dim candlelight, you could see a genuine smile on his lips.

You shuffled uncomfortably where you sat, looking back down at the rifle you were cleaning. 

“I’m not running off,”

“That’s all you been doin’,” he argued. “Ain’t said a word to me all day.”

“I said good morning,” you reminded. 

Arthur huffed in reply. It was quiet for a moment and you peeked up at him, glad you wore your hair out today, using it to shield any of your face he could see. But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was staring down at his feet.

“Have I...have I done somethin’?” he asked, his voice quiet and insecure.

Your heart ached at the sound. It was then you realised how painful the day must have been for Arthur. You spent everyday together, even if you were off on separate jobs. You always had time for one another, no matter what. And today, out of nowhere, it seemed you couldn’t stand to be around him. You knew that was what he was thinking, too. He was thinking you were avoiding him because of something he had done, something he had said, or just because you were sick of him.

You could only imagine the horrible things he was telling himself. 

“No, you haven’t done anything,” you assured, voice firm.

“It sure seems like it.”

You shook your head, moving to stand up. He was watching you now, you didn’t even need to look up to know his eyes were on you. 

“I just don’t want you to be mad,” you sighed. 

“Why would I be mad?”

You reached up to lift your hat off your head, holding it in your hand by your side. By now, he could see the swelling on your eye. You slowly looked up to meet his gaze, watching his eyes widen and his brows pull together in concern. 

Quickly, you ducked your head down once again and rubbed at your eye to cover the bruise. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks, really, it’s just a-”

“Look at me,” he instructed, reaching his hand out to gently grab your chin. 

You lifted your head again, finally showing yourself to him. All around your eye was purple and painfully swollen, tender and fresh from the blow it had taken. Your eye itself was bloodshot and bright red, making for an awful sight.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, voice low and full of boiling rage.

“This is why I didn’t want you to see-”

“Who?” he asked again, cutting you off.

“Arthur, it’s nothing-”

“Don’t tell me this here is nothing,” he argued, still holding onto your chin and moving your face for him to inspect the bruise. “Jesus, how you even seein’ outta that?”

“Like I said, it looks worse than it is,” you told him again. “It’s just a bad bruise.”

Arthur stared down at you, moving his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Bad bruise,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I don’t care if it’s just a scratch, I want to know who did it.”

“Some drunk asshole who couldn’t see straight,” you explained. “I walked into a bar fight. Had nothing to do with me, I just got in the crosshairs.”

Arthur stared down at you, his hand now moving to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb beneath your eye. 

“So you been hiding from me ‘cause of this?”

“I wasn’t hiding,” you rolled your eyes, reaching out to hold his wrist. “Just didn’t want you worrying.”

“When someone puts their hands on you, I'm gon’ worry,” he huffed. “Ain’t no way ‘round that.”

“Well maybe now you know how I feel when you come back here covered in bruises and blood.”

Arthur’s lips quirked into a tiny smirk.

“Sure, but usually that’s ‘cause I was an idiot and got myself into the fight, not the crosshairs.”

“Oh I know,” you laughed. “Somehow you always find yourself in a situation like that, don’t you?”

“Situations find me, sweetheart,” he shook his head, a grin on his lips. “I’m just mindin’ my own business out there.”

You laughed at that, finally breaking eye contact to lean forward and press your forehead into his chest. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, realising just how much you missed being around him, even though you only went less a day without the closeness. You weren’t the same without him.

Arthur moved one hand to your waist and the other to your hair, holding you close. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Don’t go hiding from me, you hear?” 

“You really wanna see this ugly mug?” you joked, chuckling against him. 

“Ain’t a word I'd ever use to describe you.”

“Well you ain’t had a good enough look,” 

Arthur pulled back, waiting for you to tilt your head up and look at him. When you met his gaze, his lips turned up into a goofy smile. Before you could realise what was happening, he leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss to your cheek, right below the bruise. 

You had no doubt that Thomas would hunt you down now that he knew you were alive. As soon as your eyes had locked on his, you knew you were done for. You escaped tonight, but that did little to ease your fear. It could be tomorrow or the next day, or the one after that, or in a month’s time, but he would find you. There was no escaping it.

“He won’t touch you. We ain’t gonna let him get that close.”

You shook your head again, letting out a shaky laugh.

“You don’t know him, Arthur. You don’t know...you don’t know what he’ll do.”

“I know his kind. Dealt with plenty of them before-”

“No, you haven’t,” you argued. “The things I've seen him do...you don’t know his kind. God, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill all of us. He’s going to kill all of you to get...to get to me...shit, he’s going to-”

“No, he ain’t!” Arthur growled. “We’ve been fightin’ folk like him for a long time, and none of us gonna let him get ahold of you again. You hear me? Ain’t gonna happen.”

You didn’t realise how scared you were until you looked up to meet Arthur’s gaze. He was blurry in your vision, clouded by tears, and you brought a hand up to wipe them away.

“People are gonna get hurt because of me,” you whispered. “He’s gonna hurt everyone, he knows I'm with you, he knows-”

“Darlin’, hey, look at me,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “Can you do that?”

You squeezed your eyes closed as you tried to take a deep breath, tried to steady yourself, but instead you began hyperventilating. Your whole body felt like it was shutting down.

“He’s gonna come for me, he’s gonna kill all of you!”

Arthur reached out hesitantly, gentling placing his hands on your shoulders. You felt his touch, but only just. Your body felt like it belonged to someone else now, unable to be controlled. You were panicking, and you didn’t know how to stop the spiral.

“N-no Arthur, h-he’s dangerous. He’s so dangerous, he’s not like the others, he’s not like them O’Driscoll boys, h-he’s gonna...all because of me...all for me.”

Arthur ran his hands up and down your arms, trying his best to bring you back from your thoughts.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me, sweetheart. Me, the gang, we know how to protect ourselves. We’ll always protect one another, you hear? You’re one of us, and we ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to anyone.”

“I’ve p-put a target on you,” you shook your head. “I need to leave. I gotta leave, Arthur. I can’t have him chasing you down because of me.”

“That bastard can hunt me for the rest of his days, I ain’t lettin’ you go,” he promised, his voice firm. “You ain’t leavin’ me, don’t even think about it.”

You felt your knees giving out, and you lowered yourself down into the dirt. Arthur followed, kneeling down in front of you and moving to place his hands around you face, cupping you gently within his palms.

“Shh, just breathe,” he instructed, slowly moving his thumb in circles along your cheek. “Right now, here with me, you’re safe. You’re safe.”

You did your best to give him a nod, to let him know you heard him, but you couldn’t stop the tears. You reached up to grab one of his hands, clutching it within your own, and squeezed it tight.

“There you go,” he soothed. “I got you, darlin’. I got you.”

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to his and let your breathing even out. You didn’t know how long you sat there in the dirt, holding one another, before Arthur broke the silence.

“We should be gettin’ back,” he told you gently. “Get some sleep.”

You nodded against him, pulling back after a deep breath. He helped you stand, walking you over to your horse, and he rode close by until you made it back to camp. Everyone else seemed to be asleep already, save for a few still sitting by the fire nursing a bottle of whiskey.

Without saying a word, Arthur led you toward his tent instead of your own, closing the canvas behind him as he followed you in.

You felt exhausted from your panic and you had never been so grateful for a bed to fall into. Especially a bed with Arthur. He held you close as you climbed in, pulling your back into his chest so he could wrap around you properly.

“Get some sleep, alright?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Thank you,” you sighed. “For...for everything, Arthur. Thank you.”

“Don’t gotta thank me. Just don’t go speakin’ of leavin’ again, alright? Wherever you go, I'm followin’ sweetheart, so spare us both the trouble.”

You smiled against the pillow. Arthur Morgan was the only man you’d want chasing you, after all.

You still held fear for tomorrow, for whatever hell would come next, but you knew Arthur wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to let you face this on your own, and he wasn’t letting you go, and you had never been so glad to have someone willing to fight for you and protect you.

“I love you,” you mumbled softly, feeling sleep claim you.

She had barely aged a day, looking just as elegant and proper as he remembered. Her lips were curved upward as she let her eyes roam, taking in the sight of the man she assumed had died with the end of the Van der Linde gang.

“I...I thought you were...” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Oh, Arthur, it’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he gave her a nod, still stunned. “You look well.”

“I didn’t know you were around here.”

“We...uh, I'm not,” he shook his head. “Just passin’ through.”

Mary was about to ask something, and Arthur had a feeling he knew the question, but she didn’t get a single word out before someone else was calling his attention.

“Daddy!” the little girl chirped, running up beside him. “My shoe fell off.”

Arthur looked down at his daughter, her little white shoe clasped in her hand, and he leaned down to lift her into his arms. Mary watched on silently, unable to form any words, and stared at the child in his arms. She looked just like him. Those eyes. That smile.

When the girl noticed Mary, she suddenly wrapped her arms around Arthur’s neck and pushed her face into his chest, hiding. Arthur held her close, rubbing her back.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed. “This is my friend, Mary. She’s a real nice lady, I promise.”

But the little girl refused to move, so Arthur adjusted his hold and looked back to the woman, knowing she would be taken aback.

“How old is she?” Mary asked, voice gentle.

“Turned three just last week,” he told her, a proud grin on his lips. “Real troublemaker, this one.”

“A troublemaker who can’t keep her shoes on,” you laughed, finally catching up to your daughter by the wagon.

Your smile faded when you noticed the woman Arthur was speaking to, recognising her immediately. You looked to him, wondering if you should be concerned, if this meant trouble, but Arthur shook his head.

“Mary, this is Grace,” he introduced. “My wife.”

Mary gave you a warm smile, reaching out to offer a handshake before she noticed the large bump beneath your skirt.

“Oh!” Mary gasped, obviously surprised. “Oh, congratulations.”

“Thank you. Certainly makes chasing after this one a little harder,” you joked, reaching out to brush your daughters hair from her face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mary.”

“You too, Grace. I...forgive me, I wasn’t expecting to see...well, I thought Arthur was...” Mary trailed off. “I read about it in the paper. How awful it all turned out.”

You put your hand on Arthur’s back, knowing it hurt him to remember that particular time. When Dutch turned his back, when Micah tried to kill him, when he lost the only family he ever knew.

But you were his family now. You and this sweet little girl had given him more than enough reason to look forward rather than back.

“Was always gonna end badly,” Arthur sighed, giving a slight shrug.

“You look well, Arthur,” Mary smiled. “This kind of living suits you.”

Arthur’s cheeks reddened at her comment, and you couldn’t help smirking at his response. He had always been self-conscious of his rough appearance, his cold demeanour, and his ability to be a father. But ever since your daughter was born, his soul only grew softer and softer each day. Mary was right. This kind of life suited him well.

“Well, I'm lucky to have any of it,” he nodded, looking down at his daughter still clinging to his chest.

Mary stared at your daughter for a few moments, admiring her, before her glance flicked to you and then Arthur again. It felt like she was capturing this moment, remembering Arthur as he is right now, in case she never saw him again.

“Well, I best be on my way,” she sighed. “It...I'm glad I saw you, Arthur. And you, Grace.”

“Glad to see you too, Mary,” Arthur nodded. “You take care.”

You smiled at the woman, wishing you had more to say.

Mary lost her chance with Arthur a long time ago, and the trauma from that relationship had stuck with Arthur for years and years. You didn’t hate Mary, though. You felt bad for her. She would never know Arthur like this.

She would never hear Arthur telling her his deepest thoughts and feelings late at night, would never see how gentle and caring he was with their baby, how careful he was with his life now. He worked with horses, earning honest money, and would come home each night as if he hadn’t lived as an outlaw his whole life.

You knew his good side, his bad side and every piece of him in between, and you saw nothing but a good man.

As you rode out of town on your wagon, with your daughter wedged between you and Arthur, you saw Mary standing outside the general store. She watched as your family rode away, and you couldn’t help wonder if she felt envy.

“You alright?” Arthur asked, looking over to you.

“Yeah,” you gave a nod, brushing a hand over your stomach. “Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

The same thing happened when you held his hand for the first time, too. You were walking down by the river, not too far from camp, just to get some time away from everyone. No one was around, yet Arthur tensed up all over again when you laced your fingers together. After a moment, you let go of his hand, feeling a little rejected.

Arthur’s fingers chased yours as you pulled away, settling your hand by your side once more, and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. This was why he was so hesitant to embrace your affection, after all. He couldn’t let himself enjoy something that would eventually be taken away.

They all leave you in the end.

These were the thoughts that plagued him when everything began with you two. These were the thoughts that held him back for so long, and now they were tormenting him again.

All he wanted was to hold you. To feel you in his arms, squeeze your hand as you walked, wrap his arm around you by the fire, to show you that he cared and could show his affection just the same. But it was hard.

“I’m sorry,” he told you, his voice low and ashamed. “I ain’t too good at this.”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t push.”

“But you ain’t pushin,” he sighed. “It’s...it’s been a long time since I had anything good. Afraid I'll ruin it.”

You looked up at him.

“You’d never ruin this, Arthur,” you assured.

“Don’t be too sure on that,” he sighed.

“You’re in that head of yours too much,” you explained. “Stop thinking so hard. It’s just me, and I’m not going nowhere.”

Arthur put his hand out, pulling yours back into his grip, and laced your fingers together once more. Your heart soared at his gesture, giving his hand a squeeze of assurance. You noticed a small grin on his lips, finally happy that he could do this, and that you knew he was trying.

And each time he tried, he was rewarded with the idea that he could have this. You. When he walked by the fire and noticed you pouring some coffee, he could lean in and press a kiss to the side of your head as he passed by, leaving you blushing and smiling. When you were by the fire, he could press up beside you and sling an arm over your shoulder. No one said a word, and Arthur began to feel less and less self-conscious of his gentle side.

Kissing still took him by surprise. Even if you were far from camp or over by the horses, something about your lips on his made Arthur tense up and panic for a moment. But it was just that. A moment. Then, he would melt into you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. It was your turn to be surprised, then.

Arthur kissed you like you were the cure for all ailments, the key to all of life, the very thing he had been looking for his whole life. He made you feel it the whole time. All of his love, his affection, his care, his heart.

“Sorry,” he mumbled once you pulled apart, noticing your dazed expression. “Got...got carried away, I guess.”

“You...uh...” you stuttered, trying to gather your thoughts. “You should get carried away more often, you know?”

Arthur smirked, looking down at you as his cheeks turned red.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

As time went on, Arthur realised just how starved he was of affection. Years of loneliness had shaped him into such a cold man, but you had helped him see that he was still capable of happiness.

On late evenings when the breeze rolled through camp, providing just enough chill to cool your skin after a hot day of chores, Arthur would find you sitting by a tree, reading on your own. At first, he was hesitant to interrupt, but your welcoming grin would give him the assurances he needed. He would gently lower himself to the ground, resting his head in your lap as you leaned back against the tree, one of your hands dropping down to thread through his hair.

“You alright?” you asked, watching as his eyes closed.

“Mm, I'm just fine darlin’,” he smiled. “Just...keep doin’ that, would ya?”

You chuckled softly, running your fingers over his scalp, feeling his body vibrate with a rumble in his chest. You could tell he was happy, and you were so in love with this man, you didn’t even know how to say it.

“You gonna fall asleep, cowboy?”

“Mm, I just might,” he grinned. “That alright?”

“More than.”