Chapter Text
Arthur watches the sunrise, memories of his teenage days running in front of him, practically mocking with his situation, Dutch and Hosea and Little Marston riding together, alone, no Micah and No Pinkertons. Drinking with Lenny and joking about it, Pushing Sean in the lake and laughing when he screams about getting shot, Hunting with Hosea but ending up admiring the Deer instead. He blinks, and for a second, he can feel his chest get lighter; he can breathe. And then it’s dark. The wind must have picked up, it’s roaring against his ear and he wonders if death should be this cold. He hears voices and wonders if it’s true you see your beloved when you die.
He sure as hell is about to find out.
“Arthur!” He hears, it’s faint and overshadowed by the shriek of the wind, of the cold. He blinks, not realizing that the darkness changed and he can see again. It’s white, and it is dark but mostly white. He sees a light and squints, his hat almost blown off by a sudden burst of wind. But I was hatless when I died, He thinks unhelpfully, he looks down, it’s not Boadicea, He pats him and hears the shout again “Arthur! Did you find anything?”
Dutch? He thinks for a second it’s another memory. After Blackwater, undeniably now, he remembers well. He looks up and Sees Dutch and Hosea looking earnest and drained at him.
Hosea. He thinks, he knew he missed him something fierce but seeing him again; it ignites a pain in his chest. “Hosea?” He whispers in disbelief, feeling his heart stutter for a moment, this is different “I-I found a place, up ahead? We can get shelter there” He says, he remembers this conversation. The wind and cold make sense now. “It’s a mining town, abandoned, we uh, let Davey rest”
The memory doesn’t end like the others, Arthur leads them to the town, Hosea checks for anyone in the sheds, while Arthur helps the women down from the carriages. The move Davey, Arthur already expects when they announce Davey is dead. He expects Dutch’s speech, bitterness rising at the words. He can’t believe that he ever held on to the words of Dutch so foolishly, he nods though; The rest of the gang look solemn and he knows the path they lead from this moment forward. And now, he’s seeing it again. He fears if maybe, this isn’t a memory anymore and the years of murder and theft drove him crazy.
“come on, Arthur, we’ve got work to do”
They find Micah, Arthur has to restrain himself to not murder him on the spot. In front of Dutch at least. They find the O’Driscolls, Arthur finds his Tennessee Waker, Light. Arthur suffers again with his self-constraint as he watches Micah scare Sadie, keeps his mouth shut as he guides her to the horses, and in a moment of pure idiocy, offers her his coat. Seeing Sadie scared and weakened is far from what he’s used to, and she’d been one of the few ones to stand with him in the end. She deserves to not freeze on their way back. Micah calls him soft, Dutch give him a look and they ride back.
Tilly and Karen take Sadie and before they go, he hands Sadie a can of beans he had. Whatever he can do to make the situation better. He gives Jack a can of fruit and the rest to Pearson. Micah complains as Arthur goes to his cabin. Arthur goes to sleep.
He wakes up again, this time expecting maybe it would be a different memory. Maybe at Valentine Or Rhodes. But the cold settling in his lower back and neck tells him otherwise, He never got the Jacket back before sleeping, and if the horse ride hurt him, the frostbite on his calf laughs in its face and burns with a swell. Maybe he was an idiot.
He was definitely an Idiot, the trip to get back his jacket was short but colder than necessary and Sadie shakes his hand when he arrives. She looks better, less shaken and more settled. He goes to find Abigail, sure she’ll ask him about John.
He’s not wrong, he’s so right in fact, that he leads his entrance with “I’m going out to find John,” and Abigail lets out a breath, hugging Arthur around the neck.
“You’re a good man, Arthur,” She says with worried eyes as he exits, the cold not painful not with his jacket tightly wrapped around him. Javier rides with Arthur, and the trip is cut short as Arthur leads through a direct way.
When they find John, Arthur laughs, He can’t believe that he once stood in this position and held bitterness towards his little brother. “So funny, Arthur, Nice to see you enjoy the view” John grumbles as Arthur carries him to the horses.
“Shut up, John, be thankful you taste like shit," John laughs. They exchange retorts, Arthur threatens to drop John if he makes one more sarcastic comment.
“Look up there!” Javier says; Arthur remembers, Wolves, he thinks as he hands John to Javier. He reaches for his rifle but doesn’t feel it.
“Shit” He whispers, taking out his pistols, he points towards the first one running at Javier and shoots it, the other two run towards him and his shoots. He tries to fire at the third but forgets to reload and gets swiped across his chest, it tears through his jacket but doesn’t touch his skin, he reloads, as quick as he can but the wolf jumps at him; claws first and he has just enough time to hide his face. Don’t wanna look like Marston, he thinks jokingly. All the jokes go forgotten when the wolf bites on his arm though, forcing the gun out of his hand as it thrashes, trying to get to his face, arm still bit down on. He holds back a scream as the wolf tears at his skin and reaches for the gun, shooting it and letting the wolf drop to the snow.
“Arthur!” Javier shouts, riding his horse near, the Tennessee Walker behind him, neighing at the disturbance and the gunshots “Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing, Javier, let’s get Marston back to camp” Javier nods and they kick off. This is different from last time.
Miss Grimshaw, Hosea and Dutch flock around him, John now tucked and getting treated by Reverend Swanson. Hosea stuffed what little herbs they have around John’s wounds to stop infections so Arthur was left to drown his in rum. Miss Grimshaw wrapped him and Dutch clapped his shoulder and told him he did a good job. He still went hunting, alone that time after he told Charles he wants time alone, borrowing his bow and bidding him goodbye. Miss Grimshaw put up a fight about leaving, wounded, healing and in the calming storm, but Pearson said they’ll all starve and Charles can’t hold a bow straight yet.
So Arthur went, his bow skills gained from his... past life or other life or whatever, true life, maybe. He got the two deers, rode back with one on his lap and an unfortunate rabbit he rode over, hooked on his saddle. The camp was excited, to say the least, he helped Pearson skin the deer and greeted Uncle. Micah retorts he’s their knight in shining armor and Arthur, for the third time in two days, stops himself from sending the fool to the devil himself. He busies himself drawing the landscape and the images of Javier and Hosea talking while Abigail and John go back and forth on nothing. In the end, he finds himself walking in on Micah insulting Bill and Lenny. “Couple of days on the lam and you lot have all turned yella,” He says as Arthur grabs the Brandy from his hand. He doesn’t drink, just hold it as Micah scoffs “Except you of course” He says mockingly towards Lenny. Arthur doesn’t see why any of them kept up with him, and now, with the knowledge of the rest of his cut short life, he doesn’t like the implication that he can’t do anything different. Maybe not get tuberculosis but that’s it. He might prevent Sean and Hosea from dying, Lenny even but it all rides on if Dutch hears him out. If he can convince Hosea to convince Dutch that Micah is a bad man, more fit to be an O’Driscoll than a Van Der Linde. He doesn’t stop Bill from punching Micah, Javier and Lenny attempt to but Bill kicks Micah hard enough to fall.
Dutch enters “Stop it, Now!” He demands, Arthur grins, Micah collecting himself off the floor and scowling at Bill with something akin to murder in his eyes. “You fools, fighting each other when Colm O’Driscoll needing punching. Hard! You wanna sit around? Wait for him to come to find us?” Arthur almost snorts, Dutch’s conviction foolish to him now rather than inspiring He picks a cigarette and steps out, Bill and Javier following as Dutch changes the subject “We’ve got work to do” Arthur’s blood freezes, and it’s not the cold. They’re about to make their first mistake. Well, second if you count Blackwater.
"You sure about this, Dutch?" Arthur asks and Dutch fixes him a stare. He doesn't enjoy getting opposed much and even less when his 'prized pony', as everyone so kindly calls him, doing it is much less, especially when Arthur never really goes against Dutch's word. Arthur is-was-a good little outlaw, always following Dutch's commands like they were the Gospel. "Folks had a tough time, hardly back on their feet, nowhere near strong enough to go into a fight and risk Pinkertons getting on our backs again. "
"You doubting me, Arthur? Now you might fancy living in Deer piss and Rabbit shit, but I for one, am getting too old for this." Dutch says firmly "So are you with us or not?" he asks, grabbing hold of Arthurs' arm, seemingly forgetting the healing wound there. Arthur winces and Dutch instantly drops his hold "Sorry, son," Dutch says apologetically.
"Ain't nothing, Dutch." Arthur says with a sigh "Yeah, I'm with you"
"Good, now, Mister Matthews, Mister Smith, and Mister Pearson would you please look after the camp, there are O'Driscolls around!" Dutch yells as he kicks off his horse.