“No, you’re not.” Her voice was stern as she knelt beside him. Such a stubborn man he was. She couldn’t help but shake her head at his actions. Both her hands moved to cup the one coated in blood. She didn’t shrink back, she didn’t fear what could become of her. Perhaps in that moment she understood Arthur a bit better. She would still push on if she got sick. The very thing he was doing despite the threat of death. Of course...she wanted to die. She didn’t know how one got sick this way but she could imagine exposure to the blood would be more than enough to put her in the same position. Was that even how it worked? Perhaps not. She wasn’t a doctor. Either way she made sure to keep her fingertips away from the crimson smear.  “Is this what fine looks like to you Arthur?”  A question that placed him into a corner. She wanted to be supportive of him and his choices but it killed her to see him do this to himself--and for what? What reason did he have to keep pushing on so...so hard? Her gaze begged him to rest, the look on her face screamed something unspoken, something she wouldn’t even whisper. Oh how she cared for him. Of course she cared for the others, for John and Charles and the rest of them. There was something different in the way she cared for Arthur. They connected in a silent way she couldn’t express properly.  “Take care of yourself Arthur. Please.” Her tone was a soft but sad one. She knew his answer would be less than desirable. 

                 “   um , we got anything to clean this with  ?   ”   a bullet had gone straight through his palm . thankfully , there was an exit wound , but lucky was trying to hide the amount of pain he was in as he clutched the bleeding extremity to his now blood - stained white button down .

( I just assumed they were friends and Esther may have accompanied Arthur on some jobs. Let me know if you need me to change anything or if this doesn’t work for you! )

sadie hadn’t realized she had started to cry until arthur’s warm hand had pressed against her pale cheek. She looked up at him with wide doe-like eyes. The sliver of a genuine smile breaking through her features, and then turning into a warmer smile that brightened her whole face.     Watching him guide her hand back to laying against the pages of his journal and gently leaving the flower to rest there for as long as it never fell out.     she looked up at him again, eyes filled with curiosity, and questions.           “ can I stay with you tonight?” she asked gently, “I’ll sleep on the ground and I promise I won’t wake you up in the morning.” she said quickly with a nod. // cont. x  @troubledgunslinger

          “Not all mine,” he grunted. “Place was a bloodbath. I think my horse caught a slug...”

She reached to grab his arm, fingers digging into his skin. She had so many questions but she knew she needed to keep quiet. 

“...Arthur?” Usually rough and tough hands somehow managed to offer gentle touches. Two hands quickly went to grasp his shoulders, then one lightly moved to touch his cheek--then to his forehead--checking for fever. He had been swaying, doing a small dance with death that sent chills down her spine. “It’s gonna be alright Arthur, you just need some rest.” She moved to guide him downwards so he could sit comfortably. The damn stubborn fool would never rest for long. She knew that much was expected. It broke her heart, but he was his own man. He’d handle himself how he so pleased. “It’s gonna be alright.” Spoken again in a gentle whisper this time. For the first time since she’d joined the gang she allowed herself to be weak again. She allowed herself to hurt with him, to hurt for him. She mourned for him in a way that was ghosted with familiarity. He probably didn’t want it and she knew he didn’t need it. Something about it just felt right.