Arthur awoke, his blue eyes opened. The world around him was spinning. He looked around him, the birds chirped softly, the cold wind blowing against him. Arthur shivered and squinted his eyes. His whole world was a blur for a moment or two.
His blue eyes finally fixed on the world around him, he was on the mountain range where he and Micah fought. He leaned against the cold mountain, his head ached with pain. The young man touched his head briefly, he hissed. A knot from where he was knocked out from Micah's gun. Snake. Himself known, he should have killed him a long time ago.
Arthur took his time getting up. He grabbed the rock he leaned against and pulled himself up. He quickly sat on the rock, his head pounded. Arthur groaned everything hurt. Arthur looked around, his vision cleared slightly. The sun was just rising a pretty pink filled the sky as the sun rose, making it a peaceful sight. He looked to his left, blood and his hat was the only thing to be found.
Arthur leaned against his knees with his elbows, the dizziness was faltering. He stood up slowly, his knees buckled as he hissed at the soreness. He stood up completely and screamed in pain and delight. He walked slowly to his Gambler Hat, picking it up and placing it on his head with care.
He limped down the mountain. Everything felt so gloomy. The air smelled different, the grass seemed to be better on the other side. Arthur continued walking, thinking of that Snake. What about Dutch? Was he okay? Where would he be now?
Arthur looked around and his eyes snapped to the round when he saw his horse. Dead. Arthur cared about the horse than he thought he would, he went up to his horse feeling its cold body.
He bent down and leaned his forehead against the horse's cheek, mumbling, "Thank you." he looked at the saddle and took what he needed from it; guns, medicine, food, etc. He needed it. Arthur continued walking down the trail, his boots scraping the dirt as he walked.
There, Arthur heard the sound of approaching hooves nearby. Arthur puts his supplies carefully in his satchel, his pistols in his holster, rifles on his back.
A decent man on a horse was walking his way, Arthur waited until he was closer. The man got closer as the horse trotted, Arthur called out, "Excuse me?"
The man halted his horse and looked down at Arthur with grim eyes, "What do you want?" Arthur could care less about the attitude, he just needed a ride.
Arthur cleared his throat, "I need a ride to Valentine if you don't mind." Arthur asked he was surprised at the way he talked. He usually demanded, never ask questions or answer them. Concerned was all, if the gang had dumb plans, he would ask, "Is this a good idea?" It was always a horrible one. Sean was killed, Hosea, Lenny. All because of dumb plans.
The man thought about it before answering, "Fine, but don't do anything stupid or I will shoot you." Arthur didn't give him an answer he simply hopped on the back of the horse, hissing from the ache.
The man arched his eyebrow, "None taken, sir, but you look like you've been through hell." The decent man spoke, he kicked at his horse. The horse snorted and cantered towards Valentine.
Arthur held the back of the horse's saddle with a tight grip, "I have been," Arthur whispered, his deep voice was scratchy. He cleared his throat and the ride was silent until they got to Valentine.
About 20 minutes later they ended up in Valentine, the man halted his horse. Arthur hopped off the horse. He stared at the man grabbing hold of his hat and nodding. The man nodded back and continued on his way.
Arthur walked through the slick, wet mud. He made his way towards the saloon. He opened the door and everyone gave him a glance before going back to what they were doing.
Arthur looked around, the lights were dim and everyone was fairly drunk. Arthur walked up to the bar and the bartender greeted him, "Good to see you again. What can I get you?"
Arthur looked down at the menu, he needed something to eat, "Can I have the Beef Stew please?" The man nodded. About 10 minutes later the man came out and handed Arthur his food.
The young man nodded and set a few coins on the counter. He went to the far side of the bar, making sure he was away from the crowd. He wanted to think, he took a spoonful of stew and slurped it down. The hot, salty liquid went down his throat. Arthur moaned at the warmness of the meal, his stomach begging for more. Arthur continued eating his meal until he was full.
What was going to happen now? He was randomly sitting at a table doing nothing, but what more could he do? Arthur didn't know where everyone went, he just hoped they disappeared far away. He gave them the money they needed.
But if Micah ran, where is Dutch? He wasn't there to see anything? What if Micah was with Dutch now? Is Micah dead? Arthur's head filled with questions he was so desperate to know about.
The squeaky bar door slammed open in the bar and everyone peered towards it, calling out, "What the hell?" or "What's your problem?"
The man walked in and that's when Arthur almost spat out his stew he just took a bite of. It was an older man, red and black vest, white shirt, black hat, black pants, the cold gold rings around his fingers, curly dark as night hair. He was facing a certain way so Arthur couldn't see his face.
Arthur coughed as he swallowed the stew. The man ordered a drink and his attention turned towards the coughing. Arthur reacted quickly, he put his head down so that his hat was covering his face. He hoped that the man wouldn't notice his hat.
Arthur peered to look at the man, only to find him gone. He perked his head up all the way, looking around him. Arthur turned around and looked out the window, squinting his light blue eyes. He was nowhere to be found.
Arthur finished his stew. He thanked the bartender who gave him a nod, Arthur walked out of the bar. The sun was up now, he could see a little better. He looked around trying to find his victim, but he was just gone.
The blonde man stopped his foot in frustration. He wanted to get out of these thoughts. He looked towards the stables. He needed a horse so maybe this would work to keep his mind off of things.
Arthur finished getting the horse he needed, he patted the horse. The younger man had a stupid yet quite peaceful plan. He kicked the horse's making it go into a full gallop. Arthur listened to the horse's hooves beat against the dirt. The horse kicked up dust as it galloped. He missed the sounds of the gang riding together as one. The way they have been through hell together, taking down anyone who stepped in their way. They were there for each other.
Arthur finally reached his destination, it was the first camp, they rested at (besides the one in the mountains), Horseshoe Overlook.
Arthur got off his horse carefully, he went up to the view and leaned against a tree. He sighed, taking in the clear air around him. For once in his life, he felt peace. He felt the wind in his hair and it made his hair flow. The thick and warm air blow around, the birds chirping, the sun shining in his face making it warm and humble. He closed his eyes, listening to the world around him.
"Quite a view, huh?" A man with a deep voice asked him.
Arthur's eyes widen from the recognition of that voice. That deep sexy ass voice. He sighed. Dutch van der Linde.
He turned around and became face to face with Dutch, they were too close. Arthur could smell his smoky cigar breath, he flushed and backed up.
Dutch gave Arthur a deep yet quiet chuckle. It stopped when his face darken like he was about to kill someone. Arthur's blood turned ice cold at the stare.
The older man walked closer to Arthur and Arthur dared not to move. Dutch was close again, those dark eyes staring into his. Dutch grabbed a hold of Arthur's chin with a bruising force, Arthur flinched at the sudden movement, "Where have you been? I've been worried sick, looking all over for you." Dutch said with cold eyes, he was pissed. Why?
Arthur was forced to look into Dutch's cold brown eyes, "I... Dutch, do you know what happened, with Micah?" Dutch gave Arthur a confused look. He let go of Arthur's chin and Arthur moved his jaw, grimacing.
"I just talked to Micah..." Dutch responded, his eyes full of confusion.
The blue-eyed man rolled his eyes and spoke honestly, "Micah is a snake. Don't trust him, ever! He left me to die while you were gone, Dutch. He... Almost killed me." The last words came out like venom.
Dutch looked at Arthur with a determined look, "I'll see what I can get from him, son. But I don't think he would do that. Are you sure it was him?"
Arthur sighed in frustration, he didn't get it, "Of course I knew it was him! Do you think I'm blind or somethin'?"
Dutch gave him an angered look, "Watch your tongue talking to me, Arthur Morgan!" Arthur stood strong, "I'm leaving if you are going to stick up for some snake. He has been with us for a few months! I have been with you for years, Dutch. His words are not true, he is not true." Arthur explained.
"I... Arthur, I'm coming up with a plan. I will get us out of here soon. Have faith, son." Dutch replied he backed away from Arthur.
"You've been saying that, Dutch. You have been. The gang is gone, Dutch, what would be a point of going somewhere when we don't have anybody anymore?" Arthur asked.
Dutch chuckled, "I know, son. Just think of it you, me, Micah. We can get out of this place, go where no one can find us." Arthur looked at Dutch with an are-you-fucking-serious face, "We are not bringing Micah along. Matter of fact, Dutch. There is no point in going somewhere anymore, it wouldn't even matter if we brought Micah along!"
"I'm sticking up for him because he has loyalty. It couldn't have been him, Arthur. Couldn't have." Dutch said, he ignored Arthur's protest about his plan. Arthur was in disbelief, "All I ever did was give you loyalty. Ever since I rode with you! You believe him because of loyalty...? I still give you loyalty now. When you needed me, I was the first to be up, Dutch. I must've been a fool."
Arthur scoffed and headed for his horse. He flinched when a bullet was shot by Dutch's gun. Arthur hissed in pain, he held his arm as it burned. Arthur looked at his arm, only a brush burn.
Arthur turned around to see Dutch holding up his pistol, "Don't you walk away from me now, son." Dutch said, his forehead creased as he looked at Arthur harshly. He put his pistol back in his holster.
The younger man was frozen. Dutch shot at him. He didn't want to reach for his gun, he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as it burned. He was flushed, his ears burned with heat, arm burned as he held it, his blue eyes widened. He looked at Dutch boldly, then it hit him. Dutch wouldn't shoot him. He has been with Dutch for years, why would he shoot him now?
He walked up to Dutch in a slow, fair manner. When he was in the spot he needed to be in, they looked at each other with simple glances. It was like a staring contest.
Dutch spoke, "I don't want anyone else to leave. I have already lost enough. I can't lose you too." Dutch breathed a harsh breath.
Arthur's face was in shock when Dutch hugged him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Arthur hugged back, he felt a warm, liquid dripping onto his neck.
Did he make Dutch cry? Arthur tugged at Dutch to looked at him. Dutch looked at Arthur with tears in his eyes, the warm liquid going down his face. Arthur, on instinct, cupped Dutch's cheek, rubbing away the tears with his thumb. Dutch tensed for a moment before leaning into the hand. He closed his eyes and held Arthur's warm hand in his.
Arthur sighed in relief, "I'm sorry, Dutch." Arthur had never seen Dutch cry until now. His salty tears run down his warm, blushed cheeks.
"I'm sorry too, son," Dutch responded, his free hand grabbed the back of Arthur's neck, pulling their faces closer. Their foreheads collied, Arthur was turning red all over. They both looked down and closed their eyes. He had been loving Dutch for years now.
"What the hell are y'all doin'?!" A man with a scratchy voice asked.
They were off of each other in an instant. Dutch wiped his tears and stared to look at the man. Arthur was off of Dutch quick, almost tripping over his own feet, he coughed and looked at the man.
Only for him to pull his gun out, he cocked it pointing at the man. A deep chuckle came from him. Micah. Still ugly, slimy, and no good. He pulled his gun out as well, pointing it at Arthur.
Dutch reacted and placed himself between the two.
"Move out of the way, Dutch," Arthur demanded, he kept his eyes on Micah's every move.
"No, this feud is getting out of hand. Put your gun down, Arthur." Dutch said in a deep voice that made Arthur tingle all over. "And you as well, Micah!"
Arthur groaned as he hesitantly put his gun in his holster. Micah did as well, he glared into Arthur blue eyes. Arthur glared back.
"Get out of here, Micah," Dutch said fiercely. If Arthur didn't believe Micah, neither did he. Anything for his brother, son, lover.
Arthur looked at Dutch in shock. He believed him. Arthur breathed out in happiness. Dutch, for once in his life, listened.
"Dutch, what are you doing here with that traitor?" Micah questioned still looking at Arthur with grim eyes.
Dutch gave Micah an exasperated look, "You have no right to question your leader. I said get out of here! Get out of my sight!" Dutch yelled he wanted Micah out of his eyesight.
Micah heeled at his horse stomach. The horse snorted and galloped away. Micah then slowed down the horse and turned it, the horse pawing at the ground in agitation.
"You're going to wish you never made that decision, Dutch. You're next, cowpoke." Micah said, his expression darkened as he took off, his horse kicking up dust as he left.
Dutch let out an aggravated sighed. Arthur was still frozen in his spot, he spoke out, "Thank you."
Dutch turned his head to look at Arthur, "Don't mention it." Arthur stepped closer to Dutch.
"He isn't going to get us ain't he?" Arthur questioned.
The older man let out a humorous laugh, "Please, against us two. He could bring all the police in the world and not get. He is wanted himself. He couldn't do shit to save himself."
Arthur gave Dutch a cheeky grin, then he paused, "Us two?"
Dutch put his warm hand on Arthur muscular shoulder, "If you want it to be that way. We could go somewhere, son. Up to you."
How could Arthur take down an offer like that? They were both being chased anyway. It would be fun to just be with Dutch.
"Hell yeah!" Arthur said with glee.
Dutch shined his white teeth at Arthur, "Well, what are we waiting for. Ready for some fun?" he questioned Arthur, he walked up to his horse The Count.
"Fuck yeah," Arthur said, he climbs onto his horse and sat neatly in the saddle.
"Lets ride," Dutch says as The Count took off in full gallop. Arthur lets out a breathy laugh and kicks at his horse. His horse stood up on it's hind legs before taking off after Dutch.
That's when the fun begins.