I just realized that I fucked up the timeline but I also remembered that this isn't going through the exact years during the Epilogue of the game, but it's okay because I got this.
TWO YEARS LATER
Arthur woke up before the sun, which was normal. He liked to make coffee for the other two and hunt some rabbits or deer for the day. He felt as if it was good for Annabel, because then she didn't have to do everything for the household. Instead, she can focus on the important tasks – her patients. She got a lot more traction over the months, after running around from New Hanover all the way to Blackwater and due to that, she had more patients travel to be treated by her.
What wasn't normal was Morgan, who is never up before Annabel.
"Morgan?" the old man looked over to him with a sad smile. He knew that smile. He and Annabel furrow their brows and curl their lips the same way where something was wrong. Only difference was Morgan was open with his problems while Annabel holds the world on her shoulders.
Like he used to.
"Arthur…" he was breathless, and his voice was shaky, "Do you mind doin' me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?" Arthur was hesitant, knowing well enough that he wanted to go past the porch but Annabel mothers him too much for being his daughter.
"I want to watch the sunrise by the water fall, if you don't mind." He wheeled himself over to Arthur, looking up at him, "I'm sick and tired of being stuck in here and the porch. I miss the water and the sun and the grass." Arthur raised a brow at him, unsure of his request. "I also want to talk to you about something."
That caught Arthur's attention, but it was weird for Morgan to want to talk to him. Usually, Morgan wants Arthur to talk to him.
"Annabel should be waking soon."
"I won't take long, I just want out of here."
Arthur shrugged and sighed. He can't argue with the man, and it's not like he hasn't do this kind of thing before. He used to take Morgan out to overlook the waterfall and smoke a cigar on certain days of the year. He couldn't smoke in front of Annabel, she would give them hell about how it smells terrible and it gross and how an old man shouldn't be smoking something so intense.
"Alright, well. Let's get goin'." Arthur takes his time to get the man out past the rocks and at the edge of the river. The was just starting to rise as they sat next to each other and listened to the water flow over the cliffs edge and the wolves howl their last calls.
"Thank you."
"It's not a problem." Arthur took a pack of cigarettes and lit one for Morgan, who took it between his fingers.
There was an uncomfortable silence after that, and with every glance at the old man next to him, Arthur could see how tense he was.
"What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I'm dying, Arthur." Arthur exhaled smoke through his nose. He stayed silent for a moment, knowing the man just wanted to talk. All dying men wanted was to confess their sins to someone who might be able to help them atone.
Arthur; however, was a sinner just like him.
"Ya ain't dyin'."
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Arthur." He chortled, then coughed, "I'm dying. I've been dying for a long, long time."
Arthur was sat there, cigarette between his fingers and his eyes looking ahead of him. He couldn't look at the man next to him, only because he couldn't bear to think of losing this man. He let him stay in his house, live as if he was family and cared for him just like one.
And on top of it, the man next to him, with the gray hairs that stray from under his hat and the wrinkles that are under his eyes and his thick sarcasm and snarky comments, was Annabel's world.
Morgan dying would do more than crush her.
"Just… Listen to an old man's rambles, okay? Don't say anything and let me muse about my life. Please…"
Arthur could only nod, and watch as the train crossed over the river.
"I…" Morgan took a shaky breath, "I was just like you. An outlaw, killing the bad and rich and giving to the poor. I wanted change. I wanted to be that change, but my gang didn't want what I wanted.
"I left, and I ran. I ran away from them but I couldn't run from who I was. I still stole and killed and threatened. But it truly changed when I met my sweet Mary. Mary was pure spitfire and steel. She didn't allow people to walk over her, she didn't want to be taken care of. She didn't want or need a man in her life. And that enthralled me. It wasn't because I wanted to make her feel like she needed me, it was because I actually needed her. Her power and her grace kept me coming back for more and more and soon enough, we sealed the deal and eloped.
"We built our home merely days after getting married, that same house you live in now, with our bare hands. I thought that home and my wife was my pride and joy, but when she told me she was pregnant I could only be filled with more joy and excitement.
"But then… I hurt myself. I fell off a horse, hard and injured my back. I couldn't feel my legs and because of that things started to go downhill. I couldn't do the basic of chores for such a long time, and my wife had to take up all of the work around the homestead.
"After years of this, my wife grew sick and Annabel had to pick up the slack. It was extremely tough to put on such a young child like herself, but she did it was such a bright smile on her face and never complained. And I am still so grateful for what she did and does for this home and me.
"When her mother died, she was devastated. Things were such a mess, both physically and emotionally and I couldn't do anything. I had to watch as my young daughter – who was barely a woman – drag her mother to a set of logs to be cremated.
"After that, things were quiet. She cleaned, she cooked, and she studied. She studied all of the books you see in the house over and over and when she got accepted into the Women's college in Pennsylvania to study medicine, she was so excited. Her mother studied at that same college, and was an alumni. She wanted to fulfill something and make her mother proud, and me.
"She had a family friend come and stay to take care of me for four years while she attended college, sending letters every month with pictures of her and her classmates. I saw the pure joy in her letters about her studies that when she came home from college only to stay home and take care of me I felt like a burden.
"She was the top of her class, had opportunities everywhere, and she stayed to take care of me. She risked her career to take care of her dying father. I started to get worse, but she didn't want to accept it, and she still doesn't want to.
"Arthur. I'm telling you this because I'm dying and it's going to tear my daughter to shreds. I am asking – begging you to stay with her whether it's as a friend or as a lover, I don't care. I just don't want her to be alone once I am gone." Morgan sobbed before he looked over to Arthur, tears running down his cheeks, "Please…"
"Sir…" Morgan's closed hand reached out towards Arthur. Arthur opened his hand, even though he was hesitant to take what was in his hand.
"Take these. I told Annabel we never had rings after her mother died, but I just hid them. I didn't want to lose the few things I had of my wife…" the chain dangled before falling into his hand. They were gold rings attached to a silver chain. Simple and skinny rings that looked like they were polished and cleaned every day. They had engravings on the inside of each of them, only four words that meant everything.
"It'll always be you"
"I know you love her." Arthur looked up, embarrassed. His secret was found out, and by none other than the father of the woman he wanted. "You've been here for two years. You've danced with her when you both thought I was asleep in my chair by the fire. And the way you look at her isn't the way a man looks at just any woman."
"Sir –."
"You don't need to explain yourself. Just…" Morgan sighed, and wiped his tears away. "Take the rings and take care of her when I'm gone." Arthur saw the pain in his eyes, "love her, comfort her, hold her I don't care. Just don't leave her alone."
"Sir, please –."
"Just promise a dying man, will ya?" Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the rings in his hand.
"I promise."
"Thank you." Morgan closed his eyes and breathed in deep. "Let's go back. Annabel should be waking soon."
The trip back was quiet, and the atmosphere was heavy. Arthur wasn't sure what to do about this situation, or about the conversation he had just had with Morgan. The bundle of rings rested heavy in his pant pocket and he wasn't sure what to do with them. He also wasn't sure if his father just implied something handing him those rings as well. It was hard for Arthur to come to terms with the old man passing sometime soon. The same old man that gave him a home after all the terrible things he had gone through, letting him grow within that little cabin by the waterfall, letting him care for something he wished he had earlier in his life.
He didn't want to think about what Annabel would feel once her father passed.
Morgan's coughs brought him back to reality, and Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder to make sure he was okay. Morgan's shaky hand rested on top of his and sighed.
"Mr. Morgan, you must understand… even though you lost the battle, you ended up winning the war."
"How so?"
"You are finally free."
The days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months. The spring and summer passed by fast and soon fall over hovering over them, as the leaves started to turn yellow and fall slowly onto the grass and into the river below. The first day of fall was when he passed. He died peacefully in his sleep, holding a soft, sheer scarf that was once his wife's.
Annabel's screams were was scared him out of his skin. He ran into the house, still holding a knife that he was using to skin a deer and covered in blood. He had thought that someone had hurt her, but when he saw her on the ground in her father's' bed room sobbing loudly, his heart broke.
She was clutching the other end of the scarf, huddled over her legs. Her hair wasn't up in a braid yet and cascaded over her shoulders. She continued to sob and scream into the scarf, digging her nails into her arms so hard that she started to bleed a little.
He went to go comfort her, picking her up from the ground and bringing her to his chest but she thrashed against him, begging him to let go over her, to let rot in the room, screaming and asking him to leave her be. He never left, holding her with firm arms until she calmed down and her arms and legs ached and her throat burned.
Arthur knew this pain all too well. This burning, painful feeling that blinded the best of people.
He held her close, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bedpost. He rocked her like you would a child and tried his best to sooth the rest of her soft sobs and high pitched whines until her body turned weak.
They cremated him last that night, surrounding him in birch trees and dried flowers. She didn't move from her spot until the grave was completely burned and turned to ash and he didn't want to leave her alone. He watched as she waited until sun rise, before collecting the ashes that were left into a small leather pouch and placing it in a wooden box that sat on the fireplace mantle.
She still had her mother's ashes, he had almost forgotten about that.
After that night, Annabel stayed quiet for a while. She wouldn't speak or eat or even leave the house. He begged her to eat something but he was only met with a weak glare and a small sigh. She was punishing herself for something she didn't have control over and he hated it.
Oh, he hated it.
He was tired of not being able to help her, and he was tired of not being able to hold her at night as she cried into her pillows. But he understood the pain she felt, and there was nothing he could do to ease. He just had to let it run its course until she was ready to stand up and recover.
Arthur just had to let her grieve, but as she continued to hurt, she started to do it on purpose. Getting down on herself for making small but huge steps towards becoming better. She would give up easily, which was never like her.
She didn't read at night anymore.
He was getting annoyed, because he felt like this was all getting to extreme. It felt like she was just sulking because she could. There was no one else but Arthur and he wasn't going to barge into her room and drag her out just to make her see some sense.
She was trying to heal, but she wasn't doing it in the right way.
Soon enough, she started to lock herself in her room and no amount of pleas from Arthur could get her out of it. By the end of day three of this, he kicked down her door, angry and frustrated.
"Get up."
"What in the world are you doing?"
"Get. Up." He looked at her form. She no longer had those soft curves from eating too much stew on
certain nights, or the golden tan that she got from spending so much time working in the sun. Her eyes were dull and void of the warmth he was so used to seeing every morning. She covered herself in a thin robe, scowling at him. "Get dressed."
"No."
"Annabel."
"Leave me alone."
"I'm not leaving until you get dressed and get out of this damn room."
"Get out."
"Annabel, don't even try."
"GET OUT!" she threw a pillow at him, which he moved to the side to avoid. She started to sob into her bed and wither under her robe.
"Please, Anna. Just get something on and come outside with me."
"I just want to stay in here."
"You'll end up putting yourself in an early grave if you do."
"I don't care." Arthur groaned and rubbed his eyes. Why were women so damn difficult to deal with?
"I will drag you out of here if I have to."
"He's gone, Arthur. Why are you still here?" He froze in his spot and looked at her, "I mean, why did you even stay to begin with? You stayed weeks after you were healed, and I never understood why you did."
She sniffled and sat up, looking down and away from him. "You didn't have to stay."
"But I did."
"I don't know why you did."
"Because you and your father gave me something I wish I had years ago." He walked over to her bed and sat down next to her, pushing her hair out of her face, "Its different then from the traditional way, but you both gave me a family. My last family went crazy trying to seek freedom in the wrong places and my parents were never really… significant in my life. Staying was something I knew I wanted."
Things grew quiet as Annabel started to sit up and settle her hiccups and her sniffles.
"I lost my father…"
"That's not a good enough excuse to not take care of yourself." They sat next to each other in silence as she calmed herself a bit more. Shame burned deep in her belly after she settled herself down and started to comprehend their conversation. "You need to eat, and go out and find yourself again. You can't lock yourself up like this. It'll kill ya."
"I know…"
"Then why do it?"
"Control." He took a deep breath and rested his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hand. "I needed to feel control over something. Anything, really."
"Death is something you can't control…"
"I know…"
"Then why try?" she threw her arms up and huffed.
"Because I'm a doctor. Because he was my father. Because I am so afraid of never being able to save everyone or anyone in that matter." She was frustrated, throwing her arms in the air and the way her brows furrowed in anger and sadness showed it.
"A doctor with doubt in her skills, there's something wrong with that picture."
"Hush, you." She lightly slapped his shoulder, a small peak of a smile showed but soon faded as she sat and thought a little more.
"Anna." He was firm, but gentle with his words as he sat next to her, "You're allowed to grieve and cry and scream. You are going through a lot, but don't hurt yourself just to feel something. It won't do ya any good."
She wiped some stray tears from her cheeks and sighed before cursing herself for locking herself up the way she did.
"I'm sorry." She looked up and at Arthur, bloodshot and puffy eyes met his and he smiled at her. "I've been difficult lately, and you're right about wanting to feel something."
"You haven't… hurt yourself in other ways, have you?"
"No, I've only been sulking and crying." He let go of a relieved sigh, and ran his hand through his hair.
They sat there in silence for a while, taking comfort in each other's company. There was a silent air around them that seemed to bring them closer both emotionally and physically. She reached for his hand, slowly but surely and placed it on top of his running her thumb over his callused knuckles.
He wasn't sure what to do, she was still sad and he knew this kind of comfort was something she would need but he still wasn't sure.
"I'm scared of doing this alone." She was quiet, and it almost felt like she was making herself smaller.
"You don't have to do it alone."
Another deep sigh and she patted his hand. She sat up tall after his words and looked out of her window.
"It's a nice day today." She bit her lip, scared of going outside but she has to. "Why don't we go fishing?"
"That would be nice."
She forgot to mention that she was a terrible fisher. Which was why she always brought home game meat.
Arthur on the other hand, already had four fish in his bucket.
"I just remembered why I don't fish."
"You're being too impatient with them." She huffed at him and reset her cast. Even though he was right about her being too impatient with the fish, she still hated fishing.
"I think the four we have is enough for dinner." And as she said that, he reeled in a fifth one. She huffed at him again. "I hate you."
"At least we won't starve."
"Shut it, Arthur." She put her fishing poll against a rock before leaning against it. "It feels weird, you know… He's not gonna be up on the porch once we get back from here. He's not gonna be at the dinner table bothering both of us about weird topics we don't know about."
"Annabel, stop. You're gonna hurt your head thinking like that."
"I know but I just can't help it." Arthur pursed his lips as he grabbed the bucket and walked over to Annabel.
"Let's get back to the house and fillet these fish for dinner."
Her mood started to pick up every day after that. She started to pick up her old hobbies and taking care of the chickens and reading her books on the couch late at night. She started to pick up embroidery and even though she was terrible at it, she loved the techniques that it took to complete the task.
Fall turned to winter, and the river started to freeze, but not enough to stop the flow of the waterfall. He woke up late one day to the sight of her around the dining table, looking at large paper maps and small letters.
"What's goin' on?"
"I sent a letter to my Uncle who lives in California. I told him that my father – his brother – died."
"Okay, but that doesn't explain the large map of the United States."
"I might go to California." She didn't lift her gaze as she said that. "My parents always wanted to go do the west coast, but when my father got hurt they could never go. I was thinking of going to my Uncles place in Trinidad and spread their ashes in the ocean."
"That's a long trip."
"I know, but winter has just set in and leaving now would be easier when I hit the Shasta Mountains and the Grand Canyon."
"You're going alone?"
"I didn't know if you wanted to come along." She said, "And on top of it, I have to go down to Blackwater for a few days."
"Blackwater?" she reached for a letter and handed it to him.
"I have to help a woman give birth." He watched her walk towards the kitchen, "Do you want coffee?"
"Sure…" he sat down at the dining table and started to read the letter.
Dear Dr. Annabel Lee Fletcher,
Years ago, you helped my son get over a sickness that took a lot out of him and you helped an old friend with many things medical wise. I am sending this letter to ask if you would be willing to help my wife and I birth our second child into this world. This pregnancy has been extremely difficult on her body with high amounts of pain all over and high emotional despair.
I sent this letter as fast I could, and I am hoping this will get to you before she is due.
If you do come, we live in a ranch East of Blackwater called Beecher's Hope. It is about a two day ride.
We will have some friends here to welcome our new addition to this world and I hope that won't be a problem.
Thanks in Advanced
- Jim Milton
Arthur sighed, "When do we leave."
"I was hoping to leave today. It is a two day ride."
"Alright, I'll go pack and tack up the horses."
"Don't forget your coffee."
The two days were grueling and cold until the hit Blackwater. She was bundled up in thick coats while Arthur was feeling alright in a simple coat and his hat.
"I'm gonna stop in town and pick up some things. Do ya need anything?" Arthur dismounted his gray mare in front of the general store.
"If they have any simple herbs, I forgot to pack some." She looked down at him as he placed a hand on her thigh. "Remember, the homestead is East of here."
"I'll see ya there, don't worry."
She trotted the whole way down the path, until she hit ranch. It was a cute home, with crops growing out front, and a large barn tucked away against the rocky hill.
She hitched her horse near the house, removing her bag and walking up to the front door.
She knocked softly, biting her bottom lip and waiting for the door to open.
A blonde women, dressed in a white blouse and a green skirt answered the door. She could see that this woman had power behind her, and that threw Annabel off for a second
"Who are you?" Annabel cleared her throat and smiled.
"I'm Dr. Fletcher. I'm here for Jim Milton and his wife?"
"Jim Milton, huh?"
"Yes, I also have a friend with me who will be here shortly." As she mentioned him, he rode up the path softly transitioning from a canter to a trot.
"Anna, I didn't know which herbs ya wanted so…" he hitched his horse next to Annabel's and dismounted, "I got all of what they had."
"That's okay." She turned to the blonde woman, who looked shocked and confused and filled with too many emotions. "This is my colleague–."
"Arthur."
They all stood there frozen in time. Arthur looked up and removed his hat.
"Sadie?"
This is going to be a weird few days.
I've been really getting these chapters out because spring break is upon me and I finally don't have homework that needs to be worried about constantly, that and I really don't have a muse for anything else right now. I really love my Annabel.
Also:
CalcifersBacon: Thanks for the review and also make an account so we can talk about angsty cowboys and go yeethaw.
Let me know how you liked this chapter, because this chapter ruined my fingers.
