First of all, thanks for all the reviews! CH2 was way more...affecting, than I expected. Not much plot in this ch, but I do plant some landmines:P
Sorry for the late update, but Xmas turned out to be far busier than I anticipated -.-
Also, I've been having internet issues. Up and down, up and down, constantly.
Will probably go over this chapter again at some point, but wanted it up before the internet went down again.
Oh and also !MASSIVE IMPORTANT CAPS MESSAGE!
I'm thinking of making this story gen on ffnet, rather than Abigail/Arthur/John. So, only side pairings and no Arthur romance.
Do you guys want that? Please leave a review/pm me. Or vote on the poll on my profile page. (Poll is up).
message repeated below.
Sorry to rant. But it helps. Have this late New Year's gift everyone ;P
Happy NEW YEAR!
The next day, Arthur was woken up by a sharp, rapping knock on his door.
It was incredibly loud and echoed around his still bleary mind, forcing him into alertness.
Groaning, he raised his head and made himself sit up. Unlike the first night, this time he'd at least remembered to take off his coat before getting under the covers. Maybe he'd finally get down to small-clothes that evening.
Then there was a second knock, and it was just as bad as the first.
Arthur cursed under his breath.
"M' coming. Just lemme get decent." He yelled ferociously, almost growling.
"Mr Morgan! Do not take that tone with me! I just came to wake you up. There's food in the main hut. Or well...what's left of it. Dutch says you need to go hunting with Charles, and it's late enough already. So, get up and get on it." Miss Grimshaw shouted shrilly, making him pay for his mistake, and then she huffed and turned on her heel, leaving him on his own.
Arthur groaned again and fought the intense urge to curl up and go back to sleep.
What did I do last night? I met up with Lenny after...something. He'd found some whiskey somehow, in our leftover supplies. Not much, but jus' enough to get us both sorta drunk. Not even properly drunk. At first, I didn't want to drink. But Lenny said something about regret or something equally stupid, and then I gave in. Then we annoyed someone...Micah? No, it was The reverend. That's right. And I wanted to see John, but in the end I didn't. For some reason. He thought and wracked his brains to try to recall the previous evening.
They stumbled through camp, having just drank the entirety of what little alcohol Lenny had found.
It was still snowing thickly outside, and it was cold as fuck.
But with the spirits coursing through their bodies, thoroughly warming them up in the process, they didn't care one bit.
Eventually, they ended up just outside Pearson's supply area. The chef had long ago gone inside to sleep, so no one was there.
"Hey Arthur! Got any ideas? We have no booze left. I'd thought we'd have found some more by now. Didn't think beyond that." Lenny muttered and leaned heavily against the supply table, almost knocking it over. He hurriedly withdrew and dusted himself off, before leaning on the wall next to it instead.
"I dunno...maybe go n' see Marston?" Arthur said lowly and stopped as well. Even though he was drunk and his head was spinning, he was still fixated on trying to make sense of John's strange behavior towards him.
Through his fuzzy vision, he saw Lenny frown.
"Why? Ain't he mad at you?" Lenny questioned.
"Naw. We was bickering- but we got both our heads outta our asses and made up. John n' I are tight now. He saved my life, and I saved his." Arthur said somberly, remembering all that John had done for him.
"I know you went and saved his ass. But when did he save yours? Can't remember. Sorry." Lenny mumbled, looking apologetic.
"Eh. I forget when it was exactly. I think it was when he were barely more than a boy. Maybe I'm just tired...it seems so long ago, when we was family. Proper family." Arthur lied quickly, vaguely remembering his promise to himself to lie low and that he had almost fucked up just then.
"So, it was before my time. I only been a part of this gang…for about three years now. I ain't even seen John all that much before he left in 97', but I remember that you was both arguing all the time. About pretty much damn everything." Lenny said casually.
"Yup. It may have been before your time, but you are family as well Lenny. We all are. One big happy family. Dutch's gang. As for John and me, well, we are brothers again. Or summat like that." Arthur informed him.
"That's nice. But family...that makes me think o' her. Jenny, I mean. I ain't never got to tell her how crazy I was about her. I was tryin' to gather up the courage to, but I never could. Now, I can't. She's dead. Shit, now I'm remembering the ferry heist, and how we was running and she was shot down right in front of me." Lenny whispered sadly, even tearing up a little.
Arthur felt slightly sheepish. The truth was, he'd forgotten just how close Lenny and Jenny had been. All the way back, during that first time they'd been stuck in Coulter, he'd comforted the poor boy, but there'd never been a moment like this, of Lenny threatening to cry in front of him.
The old Arthur would've just stood there and told Lenny, gently but firmly, to pull himself together and stop it, and even bury his emotions.
But he wasn't like that anymore. He could relate to the loss all too sharply now. Not the specifics, but the suddenness and hollowness of losing someone. It reminded him of Lenny's own death in St Denis.
So, he sauntered over and put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.
"Hey, hey, don't cry. It ain't the time. Look forward, not back. You're alive. Remember Jenny as she was and hold that pain inside you. Let it push you on, if you can manage." Arthur advised, trying to find the right words and not sound too emotional.
"Yeah. That sounds good. I wanna do that. She was always so bright and fierce...I don't wanna lose anyone else, Arthur. You, John, or Dutch- anyone. Even Uncle." Lenny said solemnly and wiped his eyes with a sleeve.
"Well, personally, I think Uncle is up for debate. He's such a load that I don't think anyone'd miss him all that much if he went." Arthur joked tersely, unsure if it was the right move.
Lenny laughed softly and gave him a sad look. Then rather unexpectedly, he stepped forward and embraced him tightly for a few moments.
Arthur blinked. He didn't know what to do. Before he could even really react, Lenny was already gently pushing him away. He had a small smile on.
"You're so damn right. He is a useless waste. And um…thanks for the reassurance Arthur. I needed it. Now, what are we gonna do? I don't wanna sleep yet. I want to do something- I dunno what exactly. But something." Lenny said and scratched his head.
"Annoy the reverend? He's probably still awake. He ain't been sleeping normal for a while. It's probably because of the withdrawal from morphine or whatever sick stuff he gives himself." Arthur suggested randomly off the top of his head.
Lenny smiled brightly.
"Sounds good. He should be by the barracks- tends to wander if he can't rest." He said.
So, off they went, stumbling through the snow towards their destination. At some point, Lenny had started singing a bawdy popular tune, swallowing and slurring his words. Arthur had quickly joined in and done his best to accompany him.
They'd found the Reverend exactly where Lenny had suggested he would be, sitting dejectedly outside the barracks and staring forlornly at the ground.
Then they'd argued with him and traded barbs about his profession and lack of standing for a while, eventually the man had gotten sick of them and gone inside.
Arthur had felt slightly guilty afterwards. The Reverend had comforted him before he'd left for New York a few days before the end but jibing with him had made Lenny so happy that he'd soon buried his worries.
He could apologize to him the next time he saw him anyway.
Then he and Lenny had parted ways and he'd stumbled to his own cabin, discarded his coat, and passed out in his bed.
Arthur blinked and cursed his drunken foolishness. He'd almost been stupid enough to reveal his secret in front of Lenny. It meant that he'd have to be more careful in future when he went drinking with anyone.
But at that moment, he didn't have time to deal with his slight hangover, or his reoccurring worries, because he had a far more important issue to focus on.
Chiefly, going hunting with Charles to get food for everyone.
Yes. Food's scarce. And I hafta provide, or we'll all starve up here. At least I'm going with Charles, someone with some damn sense. Arthur thought sluggishly and yawned, then got up and went looking for his blue coat.
Finding it by the door, he pulled it on and then stumbled out.
It was a far clearer day than the one before. The sun was high in the sky, brightly illuminating the whole town. The only people he could see were Pearson and Charles together outside the old forge, and slightly further on, Strauss, who was taking a walk.
Charles waved to him.
"Hey Arthur! Please eat quickly! I'll meet you out here in ten minutes. We need to hunt, and as I can't use my bow due to my hand injury, I'll be going with you just to help you track game." He called out urgently.
"All right." Arthur yelled back. He didn't ask him if he wanted to rest instead of helping him, because there was no point. Charles Smith was a stubborn fool and wouldn't take no for an answer.
Moving on, he went into the main hut and found everyone in the same positions as the previous day, except that Hosea was nowhere to be seen and Molly and Dutch were sitting together instead. The former seemed slightly happier and was beaming as her lover said something to her.
Miss Grimshaw was warming some soup on the stove and gave him a nasty glare when he approached her for his meal. She'd just finished serving an oddly overjoyed Jack and a somewhat happy Abigail.
"I'm sorry Miss Grimshaw. My behaviour to you was uncalled for." Arthur apologised humbly.
"Humph. It was. But apology accepted. I'm used to it from you layabouts. Now, eat up and then go hunting. It's the least you can do to make amends." Miss Grimshaw said sharply.
Arthur nodded meekly and looked around for a place to sit, only for Jack and Abigail to wave him over.
"Hey Uncle Arthur!" Jack yelled excitedly as he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable.
"Shh Jack. No need to be so loud." Abigail chastised him.
"Aww. There's no need for that Abigail. It's great to see the kid so happy." Arthur said, smiling fondly at the boy he considered a nephew.
Jack beamed at his words, making his own smile grow.
Abigail sighed exasperatedly.
"Please, Arthur. Don't encourage him. I ain't been able to get him quiet all morning." She complained.
"Sorry Mama, but I'm too excited." Jack exclaimed and giggled.
Abigail sighed again.
Arthur laughed, then gave her an understanding look.
"I'm sorry Abigail. I just ain't seen such joy in a long time. Now Jack, it's best you listen to your ma from now on. But what has gotten you so excited?" He asked leisurely.
"My…John is going to tell me a story about dragons tonight! And knights and kings! He promised. Do you know what a dragon is Uncle Arthur?" Jack said readily, shying away from calling John his father.
Arthur blinked.
"I believe I do. It's some sorta scaly animal. It can fly" He said slowly, vaguely recalling some dime novel he'd read a long time ago, and promptly forgotten because it'd been so bad.
"That's right. Though I wonder if there's anything like flying bears in the stories. A flying bear! Can you imagine that momma?" Jack asked Abigail, who shook her head.
"I thought- Abigail, isn't John injured? What's he doing telling stories all of a sudden?" Arthur inquired, feeling genuinely confused. It was very odd that John was behaving that way.
"I don't know Arthur. I brought Jack to see him this morning- because after last night, I want them to be properly close, like father and son- and John went all still and quiet when he saw him. I even thought he was gonna cry for a moment. It was something in his eyes. As for Jack...well he weren't too keen on his Pa at first. Then John suddenly started going on about 'stories he'd heard while away' and got him all riled up when he started mentioning knights and dragons and other things. I don't get it." She said and shook her head.
"Don't get what, Momma?" Jack said before Arthur could say anything.
"Oh, nothing son. It's all grown up talk. I just didn't expect John to suddenly become so fatherly. Now, why don't you tell Arthur about the king? The one yer pa spoke about." Abigail said kindly.
"Oh! Uncle Arthur, guess what the name of the king is? In the story." Jack teased.
"I have no idea Jack. Why don't you tell me?" Arthur said, playing along.
"It's Arthur! King Arthur." Jack said and giggled.
"Well, ain't that a wonder. I bet no one else can boast about that, being named after a king." Arthur said cheerfully, genuinely amused by the boy's joy.
Jack laughed again. Arthur flashed Abigail a warm smile.
"Abigail, I think John is all right. It's probably just the shock of almost dying. Going through that…it changes you." He assured her.
Abigail folded her hands on her lap and fidgeted nervously.
"If you say so Arthur. It's jus'- I have a bad feeling about all this. Don't take me too seriously, but John seems different. Real different. A woman notices these things, and to me it ain't just a 'near death' thing. Even so, I was wondering…could you spend some time with him today? Try n' keep an eye on him." She requested suddenly.
"Sure. Actually, why don't I just listen to his story tonight? I can learn all about King Arthur as well. How about that Jack? Is it okay for your uncle Arthur to come along?" Arthur suggested gently. Abigail was worrying him.
"Yes! He's- John is much nicer than before, Uncle Arthur. You'll love it." Jack yelled, clearly thrilled.
'John is much nicer than before'. Hmm, what could that mean? Arthur reflected, though a sick feeling in his stomach told him that he knew well enough what it meant.
But that was impossible, so he shook his head and dismissed the ridiculous notion.
Then he looked down and realized that he hadn't even touched his soup, because he'd been so caught up chatting. It was now lukewarm.
Mentally kicking himself, he quickly started slurping it down, spending the next few minutes eating rather than talking. This allowed Jack free reign over his mother, an opportunity which he used to pester her with questions about stories she'd heard whilst growing up.
He felt sorry for her, but he was in a hurry, so he didn't have time to stop and reprimand the boy.
"I'll see you tonight Jack. Abigail, have a nice day." He said quickly and tipped his hat in a respectful farewell. Getting up, he gave his plate to a scowling Miss Grimshaw, and then hurried out of the main hut.
In his rush, he did not catch the worried look Abigail gave him as he left.
Arthur went straight to Charles, who greeted him with one of his stoic, but still effortlessly cheerful smiles.
"Ready Arthur? I've saddled the horses. They're both rearing to go." Charles quipped.
"As ready as I'll ever be. Now, for hunting, you want me to use a bow, right? For cleaner kills." Arthur replied.
"Yeah. You okay with that? You've complained in the past about having difficulty with using one. I'd go hunting alone, but, well..." Charles said, gesturing to his burnt hand.
They began walking to Taima and his stallion.
"I'll be fine Charles. I'll admit, Bows ain't my preferred weapon overall. But for hunting, I agree that they are the best." Arthur said brightly, recalling all the times he'd hunted animals with the bow Charles had given him. And now, rather ironically, he was receiving it again.
Afterwards, he'd used no other weapon to hunt unless he'd come across a particularly fierce creature, like a bear. Then, he'd gotten out his shotgun.
Charles widened his eyes at him as they mounted up.
"Well, ain't that a wonder." He remarked to himself as they set off, too low for Arthur to hear.
"I take it Pearson wants some big game. I think we should ride downriver and try our luck on the open fields down there." Arthur said conversationally.
"Oh, right. Yes. Pearson didn't specify anything in particular- he has no idea about what's exactly out here to hunt. He knows more about the sea anyway, according to his so-called 'glorious' navy days. But we should be able to find some deer or bucks. Now that the storms have subsided, they'll need to go out to feed." Charles informed him.
Arthur nodded sagely.
"Yup. We're the real hunters, unlike that fat pile. Should be easy." He joked.
Charles laughed lightly.
"'Real men'. Yes, we are. Although, we don't know how to properly cook. Pearson does wonders with herbs and whatever. I'd just roast it on a spit until it looks decent." He confessed.
"Same here. Although I've learned a thing or two over the years, ( more like the past few months. He snarked to himself) about seasoning and such. I'm probably a better cook than you are." Arthur boasted.
"Sure, sure. I'll believe it when I see it." Charles said dismissively.
"Maybe I'll show you some day." Arthur countered.
"Maybe you will, 'someday'. That sounds like a challenge. Anyways, you must miss Boadicea. Have you named your horse yet?" Charles inquired.
"No. Although I'm tryin' to think of a good one. It's difficult, since I ain't had a boy in a while. And I do miss Boadicea. She was a good horse." Arthur said.
"Yeah, she was. As for your current horse, it's odd that you haven't named him yet. Usually you name them pretty quickly. Unless, you're not thinking of keeping him?" Charles said casually.
"Yeah m' not. He ain't the best o' horse's truth be told, a little too lean for my liking. I'll find him a good owner when we head east. But for names...how about Jimmy?" Arthur suggested randomly.
"Jimmy?" Charles said incredulously.
"What's wrong with it?" Arthur countered defensively.
"Nothing. It's a fine name. Albeit a simple one." Charles said, trying to hide a snicker.
"Well, I'm a simple man Charles Smith. So, Jimmy it is. Jimmy the horse." Arthur stated with finality.
Charles laughed out loud.
Arthur shook his head and looked away. The river was just curving into open forest. They were almost to their destination.
He slowed the newly christened Jimmy down and dismounted. Charles quickly followed suit and got off Taima.
"This is a good spot, right?" Arthur asked, vaguely remembering it as the place they'd stopped last time.
"It is. There's also plenty of grass, so there should be some game here. And we're lucky that the wind is blowing at us. It means our scent won't alert any animals to our presence. Look! You can see deer tracks in the snow." Charles whispered, pointing them out and then crouching low. "Let's follow them and find dinner."
Arthur grabbed some arrows from Taima's saddle and placed them in his belt, before crouching and following him, taking care to not make any noise and keeping his gaze trained on the landscape for any signs of life, even birds. It wouldn't hurt to bring back some extra fowl if he could shoot some down.
Unfortunately, they didn't come across any as they went.
Moving on, it took them a few minutes to get through the trees and into a wide clearing, where luckily enough, there were two deer in the distance; two does, one quite large one, and a much smaller one.
Thankfully, they hadn't spooked them with their initial arrival. But as they stopped to gather their breath, the larger of the two raised its head and started looking around, ears twitching wildly.
"Now Arthur!" Charles seethed through his teeth, beckoning him to take aim.
Arthur nodded, got out his bow and grabbed an arrow from the few he'd put in his belt. Then in one smooth movement, he notched it and drew the string back, carefully aiming at the larger doe.
Watching it for a moment, he judged where a major artery would be, and then fired at the unfortunate animal.
His arrow struck straight and true. The deer went down without much trouble, bleeding out and dying quickly before it suffered too much.
The smaller deer barked shrilly and attempted to flee. But Arthur was ready for it.
He'd focused himself and had already drawn another arrow the very second after the first had left his bow.
The smaller doe didn't get far. It fell a few seconds after the first.
Arthur put his bow away and stood up.
"Come on Charles. I'll get the bigger one." He said gruffly and made his way to his prize.
Bending down, Arthur hoisted the big doe over his right shoulder while Charles went slightly further ahead and got the smaller one. He was oddly quiet and turned to him with a questioning look after they'd finished.
"Well...that was quite a surprise. I don't think I've ever seen you use a bow as skillfully as that before. Have you been practicing in your spare time, Arthur?" Charles inquired as they started making their way back to their horses.
Arthur swallowed.
I haven't thought things through and revealed too much. Again. He thought, feeling somewhat nervous. Unlike Javier, Charles was far more astute. Therefore, he felt it'd be far harder to excuse his strange behavior around him.
"Don't be so surprised. I did my fair share of hunting before you joined the gang Charles and used the bow a coupla' times. I still dislike it though. It don't feel comfortable, like with a gun." He lied evenly.
"Huh. Well I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did. Nothing against you, Arthur. I just didn't know you were that skilled. You might even put me to shame." Charles said genially.
"Naw. Don't say that. You're a pretty good shot yourself Charles." Arthur defended him.
Charles laughed.
"No need to pretend to be humble, my friend. Maybe after we're out of these mountains, we should have a competition to see who's the better shot and get some more food for the camp in the process. How about it?" He suggested.
"Sure. Sounds like fun. I'll beat you of course." Arthur accepted leisurely, letting himself relax. He had a strange feeling that he could always count on Charles to be there for him.
"Oh, there's the Arthur I know. Don't worry, you won't." Charles countered easily.
Arthur laughed lightly and picked up the pace.
They soon reached Taima and Jimmy, and carefully tied their prizes onto their backs.
Arthur paused for a moment as Charles got onto Taima, holding Jimmy's reigns stiffly as a sobering realisation hit him.
Charles still believes in Dutch. He thought demurely.
"Charles, can I talk to you bout' something?" He asked his friend as he finally mounted up.
Charles blinked in surprise.
"Sure." He said minutely and kicked Taima off into a trot.
Arthur followed suit and took a deep breath.
"It's well...I was thinking about Dutch n' Micah. Well, more about Dutch really. Ever since Blackwater, I've started having some real doubts about him. Not in his leadership, but something seems off. I- I think it's Micah. I've talked to Javier about this as well." He admitted, doing his very best to sound unsure and uncertain.
"Arthur, you should have more faith. It's Dutch. He always delivers. The ferry heist did go a bit south in the end, but that was only because the damn Pinkertons showed up. As for Micah, well, he is a fucking scumbag, but he isn't an issue. We're gonna be okay. We just have to move on and rebuild." Charles assured him, downplaying his doubt and complaints.
Both of them eased their horses into a canter.
"I guess...but the girl. The damn girl. She- it just don't seem right to me. Why would Dutch shoot her? For what good reason is there? And Charles, please don' take this the wrong way, but I know him. Dutch is a dreamer through n' through. I'm worried he's gonna look for the next big heist now. Try and cook something up in spite of our situation." Arthur argued, feeling useless.
"The girl- okay, I'll admit that I'm a little shocked by that as well. It doesn't seem like him. But it was probably just a mistake. Think, why else would he shoot her? For pleasure? No. It was just a mistake- a miscalculated move on his part. As for our next heist...I somewhat agree. We should lie low, but not completely low. The gang needs money to survive, so we need to pull something off. At least in the short-term, before we can go back to Blackwater and get the bulk of our cash. It's a lot. Maybe even enough to retire from." Charles said casually.
Arthur shut his eyes and sighed lowly.
It was painful. Seeing just how highly the whole gang had revered Dutch in the past, enough to makes copious excuses for him, especially for his more dubious actions, and with knowing the terrible future that'd happen if he didn't change things, made him want to inwardly scream out of frustration.
We were all so damn naïve and trusting. And I was the worst. He thought bitterly.
"All right Charles. Maybe it was a genuine mistake. But otherwise, I really do think Dutch will want to do something stupidly big before we've even left the mountains. He'll find somethin'. And if he does, can you help me try to talk him out of it? If we even can? We got enough heat on us. We don't need more." Arthur stated blithely.
Charles was quiet for a solid minute, head lowered in deep reflection as he seriously contemplated his words.
Arthur was thankful. Unlike Bill, Javier, even Lenny, and especially freaking Micah, Charles, after probably only Hosea, had always been one of the more rational men in the gang.
"If you hadn't confided in me with your own worries, I wouldn't have even considered doubting Dutch at all. I shouldn't- it's not good to doubt a leader. Especially Dutch. He's been so good to me. To you, as well. But as much as I may want to, I can't ignore the issue. Because you're right Arthur. This isn't the time for another big heist. So, I'll do it. I'll back you up. But only if Dutch finds something really crazy- some huge heist somehow." Charles promised uneasily.
"Thank you. It means a lot to me. And if you could keep this to yourself- jus' for now. I know it ain't good, but Dutch would go sideways if he found out. Hosea has the same thoughts, and I'm also thinkin' of speaking to Lenny as well. Javier and Bill and Micah-they won't wanna doubt Dutch or go against him at all. John might, and the ladies as well." Arthur outlined, thinking carefully about it.
"Huh. You're really considering this. I hope you're not going to challenge Dutch for his leadership." Charles opined.
"No, no. Never. I love Dutch, but I also love this gang. I just think that we need to be smarter bout' things at the moment." Arthur hurriedly assured him. He didn't want his friend to get the wrong idea.
Charles nodded.
"I understand that. But Dutch might not, or some of the others." He warned.
"Yeah. But I'm not gunning to lead the gang Charles. I jus' wanna make sure we don't rush into the next job too quick." Arthur replied.
"Okay. And Arthur, I'll keep this to myself for now." Charles said.
"Thank you, friend." Arthur said genuinely.
I've finally achieved somethin', a first step to changing things. Hopefully I can get Lenny on board and change Dutch's mind about the train heist if enough people are against it. Somehow. Then I'll finally have a chance to breathe and time to plan things out without having to worry about everyone's survival. The next issue is how I'm gonna tackle the damn Pinkertons...Now, I hope I don't need to answer any more questions about my "new skills". It's getting real tiring. He thought blearily, stifling a yawn. He really hadn't slept at all well the night before.
"Now, why don't you tell me about how you became so proficient with a bow? I just remembered, I've never seen you with one. If ever…at least, not for a long while. Did you borrow one from someone? Or buy one? I can't believe that you'd make one- that you'd have the skill or the patience to do it." Charles teased genially.
Arthur groaned inwardly.
For the rest of the ride back to Coulter, he pacified Charles with a few hunting stories of how he'd amazingly used the bow when away from camp, and how he'd lost his last one by accidentally dropping it down a ravine whilst hunting cougars. He hoped it was a plausible enough cover, since it was close to the truth as he'd had a similar experience in eastern New Hanover. Minus losing the bow of course.
"I got startled by a loud roar- a bear, and the next thing I know my bow is gone and I'm reaching for my shotgun. I just acted without thinking. I sold that bear's mauled skin for a tidy enough profit, but I didn't have enough time to buy another bow in the small town I was in, because someone recognized me. And I simply forgot all bout' it- it was just before Blackwater" Arthur said, just as Coulter came into view.
Charles laughed.
"Typical Arthur. Well, feel free to have my bow. You'll be using it plenty enough in the next few days anyway. I can always make another one pretty easily." He stated.
"You sure? Well, if you are, it's real nice of you to give it to me." Arthur thanked him and smiled.
"I'm sure. Now, we'd better get these to Pearson." Charles said and motioned to their prizes with a wry smirk as they rode into town.
Trotting to the outpost next to Pearson's supply table, they hitched up Jimmy and Taima and took the deer down.
"Finally! I can get busy. I've been freezing my ass off out here, waiting for you." Pearson declared jubilantly upon seeing them.
"Yeah, yeah. We did the real work." Arthur said and waved him off.
Pearson scowled at him, but his eyes flashed with mirth as he took the carcasses from them one by one and hung them up on some hooks next to the table.
"Arthur, Dutch asked me to direct you to him when you came back. He went to check on John. He's got some more real work for you to do, to keep you real busy. So, chop, chop. Charles, can you please help me prepare the deer?" Pearson said gregariously, the left corner of his mouth quirking up.
"Sure. I'll see you around Arthur." Charles said and nodded goodbye.
"Right. Imma go find Dutch." Arthur stated and walked away.
Entering John's hut, he was taken aback by what he found there; Dutch was exchanging harsh whispers with the invalid, in what was clearly a big argument over something. Their voices were too low for him to make anything specific out.
Both of them were so preoccupied, that neither of them even registered his arrival.
He cleared his throat to get their attention and both men stopped and turned to him, allowing him to catch their unguarded facial expressions.
Dutch didn't look too pleased. His mouth was tight and his gaze was pointed, an expression that quickly morphed into a big smile when he saw it was him.
John, however, had a face of thunder, but an oddly stricken look flashed across his countenance when he set eyes on him, before he seemingly composed himself and went back to his customary somberness.
"Hey Arthur." He greeted him minutely.
"Hey John." Arthur returned warmly.
"Hello son. I hope you've been busy, getting us some food." Dutch said, having held back to let them greet each other first.
"Yup. Charles and I, we got some fine game for the gang." Arthur informed him.
"Good. With so many mouths to feed, the food at Mrs Adler's house only got us so far. I hope we don't got any more starving waifs coming our way. Now Arthur, I want you to go scouting with Bill this afternoon. Just the general area and surroundings. Nothing more. We know there are some O'Driscolls out here, and it's best we find them before they find us." Dutch said genially.
Arthur froze.
Last time, someone else had gone scouting with Bill. He hadn't been asked to do it. Somehow, something had changed the sequence of events.
"If you don't need me here...sure, I'll go. I'll find them O'Driscolls Dutch. Lemme just talk to John for a minute- about Jack." He hurriedly requested, out of a desire to get some time to think than anything else.
John blinked up at him in surprise. He hadn't expected it.
"Jackie? Of all things…it's nothing. I'll see you later Arthur. By the way, you're doing good son. I've been hearing a lot of positive things about you, and I'm very proud. And thanks for agreeing to go with Bill...and well, everything else." Dutch said, sounding genuinely grateful.
He nodded at them both and then left, leaving him and John alone.
Arthur watched him go and then turned to John with a light smile. The other man still seemed somewhat stunned by his presence, and Arthur swore that he flinched slightly when he approached him and drew up a chair.
"I jus' wanted to tell you that I'm gonna be accompanying Jack to story time this evening. So, you'd better make it a good one." Arthur said, sitting down and making himself comfortable.
"Why? I thought that you weren't- well, you wouldn't want to spend your evening listening to me telling my son a story." John stated simply.
"Curiosity. And Jack was so excited bout' it, it made me want to hear it too. I also volunteered to watch you instead of Abigail. Yer such a grouch, I wanted to free her from having to put up with you for a while." Arthur joked.
"Ha ha. Well, if you really want to be there, you're welcome to come, I guess. Nothing I'll say will stop you anyway. Cos' you're such a stubborn jackass." John taunted him pleasantly, and gave him a small, but happy smile.
Well, ain't that a thing. Arthur thought curiously.
"Don't I know it. Although, you're the real stubborn jackass Marston. Always fooling around and shirking responsibilities when it suits you- like refusing to help around camp when it's your turn." He accused him, just as affably.
"I ain't gonna do that no more. Not that I ever did. I was always helpful. Just ask Miss Grimshaw. She'll vouch for me." John rallied. His smile grew.
"Oh, that old biddy won't. She can see right through you, all the way to your rotten core." Arthur scoffed.
"Well, if that's true, then she can see through you as well Arthur Morgan. She knows what a two-bit son of a bitch you are." John immediately countered.
"Then I guess we're both equally bad, huh'." Arthur said, trying to come across as mellow.
John snorted.
"Yeah right. Don't lie, Arthur. I know you. I'm not near as evil as you are." He said with false derision. Unfortunately, and probably unintentionally, the jibe hit home.
Arthur sobered up.
"Yeah. You're right. You have a family John. A chance to make it out of this life and not look back, if you really want." He said, then frowned, feeling as if he'd overlooked something again.
"Hey, no need to be so serious. God your mood shifts suddenly, Arthur. One minute you're all laughter and the next you're as sad as can be. Just loosen up. I ain't gonna leave this life- at least not yet. I need to do some things first." John said readily and sat up straighter.
"What kind of 'things'?" Arthur reactively blurted out before he could stop himself.
He didn't know what was going on.
"Thing things. Y'know, maybe- what If I had a...no, forget it. It ain't important." John mumbled and looked down, clasping his hands tightly on the bedspread, and hiding his expression from him.
"What ain't important?" Arthur pressed.
"Look, as I said, just forget it. Just- stop being a nosey busybody Arthur. Try n' move on and be happy about life, instead of making other people miserable." John said defensively.
"I tried that. It doesn't work. Not one bit" Arthur deadpanned, deciding to abandon his endeavor in favour of cheering John up.
John laughed and looked up. His smile was back, although it was more strained than before.
"Well then, try again. Seriously, you're such a grump. Anyway, I missed this." He declared softly.
"This?" Arthur questioned, not quite catching what he meant.
"Really, you- I mean talking to you, you thickheaded idiot. It feels like years, since we've had the chance to do this. Bantering and whatnot, without really meaning it." John supplied for him.
"Ah, maybe it's because it has been years, dummy. We used to try n' bite each other's damn heads off, all the time. Several people have told me about how glad they are that we've stopped." Arthur chastised him gently.
"Yeah, it has been years. Too many years. And now, here we are. Together once more, free to snipe and tease each other as much as we damn please. If only…things weren't so complicated." John said wistfully, his voice thick with it.
Something was up, Arthur's instincts told him. Something familiar, terrible, and above all else, something he didn't want to be true.
But he- he had to confront his fears. At some point.
I'd better leave. Now's not the time to go talking about Dutch, or anything else. I should have a chance tonight, after Jack's story. For now, John needs rest. Being injured n' all. Arthur excused himself, turning away from his wider fears. For now.
He cleared his throat, getting John's attention and making him look up.
"It's been more than a minute. So, I'd better get going. I'll see you tonight. But John, I have something real important I need to talk to you about later. After Jack's story." Arthur said seriously.
"Okay. See you then Morgan." John said blandly, then grimaced. He was obviously upset by something.
Knowing him, he was probably either angry at himself, or him, for one odd reason or another.
John was making no sense, at all. And he didn't have the time or patience to deduce his motivations now.
So, he nodded and made a speedy exit, leaving the hut without looking back.
" No way. There's just no way it can be true. Because if it is, then..." Arthur trailed off internally as he shut the door behind him, shaking his head in desperate denial and hoping beyond hope that he was wrong.
He took a deep breath and concentrated on his priorities, choosing to focus on the task at hand than pointlessly despairing any longer.
You couldn't change the past. Only the future.
It was time to go find Bill and go scouting.
Howzat?
Oh and also !MASSIVE IMPORTANT CAPS MESSAGE!
I'm thinking of making this story gen on ffnet, rather than Abigail/Arthur/John. So, only side pairings and no Arthur romance.
Do you guys want that? Please leave a review/pm me. Or vote on the poll on my profile page. (poll is up).