AN: Should Arthur get TB in this story? Struggling with whether to follow the game or do a new plot. Please let me know your thoughts and please review! It means a lot. I wrote this while listening to an instrumental version of Say Something by Brooklyn Duo and it fitted really well.

Chapter 4

A 26 year-old Arthur stumbled into the small camp just outside of Armadillo. He was on a romantic high after spending the day with the beautiful Mary Gillis. The two of them had a picnic by the river, spending the day eating good food and getting to know each other. The woman did something to him that no other had ever done. Well, maybe except…

He shook his head to get rid of the thought. She didn't see him like that. She saw him as an older brother that would protect her from anything and anyone. Just like that incident in the saloon a few weeks ago when a drunk guy handled Lydia a bit too roughly. He saved her from getting hurt, then stayed with her the entire night to make sure she didn't have any nightmares. He was there to make sure she was safe and secure, just like he promised her father before he passed.

Arthur could remember the night Warren had called him into his tent. The man looked so different from his vibrant happy self. His skin was blotchy with red splotches dotted across his sickly grey skin. His brown eyes had become lifeless, heavy with fatigue begging to be closed. Warren's persistent cough echoed around camp and could probably be heard a few miles in the surrounding area. The older man used an old handkerchief which his late wife Margaret embroidered for him, not wanting to make anyone else hurt the way he was. Everyone in their camp tried their hardest to make the sick man comfortable, to try to take away his suffering and have a content passing.

Mr Davis asked Arthur to make an honest woman out his daughter, to make her happy, to live the life that she deserved and to take care of her. Arthur promised him, he would try his best but the beautiful soul of Lydia Davis could never love an outlaw like him.

It had only been a couple of months since Warren had passed. Arthur comforted Lydia as best he could but he didn't want to overstay his welcome and anger her. She was a hurting young woman but wasn't fragile like a porcelain doll. The thing he really wanted to do was to hold her through the night, to try and take away some of the pain she was feeling. He knew what it was like to lose both parents, feeling a little lost in the world and having no one to turn to. He wanted to aid her through that, let her know she could lean on their little family if she needed to.

Over the last few weeks she had been getting better but something seemed different about her. Arthur couldn't put his finger on it but he had definitely seen a change in her. He wanted to believe it was just the healing process but a small part of him wasn't certain.

Thinking about the blonde, he walked across the camp to the tent she used to share with her father. After her father passed, they had to get rid of most of their belongings so the disease wasn't transferred to anyone. The tent was mostly bare with just a green cot, a chest for clothes and a table for a vase of flowers to add a womanly touch. She used the wagon attached to the tent to hold more items like photographs, her father's weapons and some of her mother's things.

Before he got to the tent, he watched as Hosea and Dutch hugged the much shorter girl. All three of them looked at each other sadly, Lydia even wiped a few strays tears away. Arthur had definitely missed something whilst out romancing Mary in town. The two leaders of the group left Lydia's little home, leaving the blonde to continue rushing around her tent. His eyes followed Hosea and Dutch walking over to console Annabelle and Bessie, who were not holding it together as well as the men were.

Arthur walked with purpose towards the wagon, needing to find out what was going on. "Lydia?" His voice was soft, not wanting to startle his friend while she was frantically pacing around. She stopped pacing to turn to the young man who had addressed her. Her blonde thick curls following a second later, bouncing onto her right shoulder.

Arthur could tell Lydia had been crying due to her puffy eyes and red cheeks. She placed her hands over her mouth, feeling another set of tears come. Lydia was thankful that Arthur had made it back, but she also couldn't bare telling him the bad news.

"Arthur" She whispered, running into his arms. Arthur was taken aback by the gesture, rocking slightly backwards as she slammed into him. Standing on her tiptoes to embrace the stocky man, fisting the back of his leather jacket tightly with need. Her face snuggled against the side of his neck taking in his scent; a combination of leather, spice and just him. She felt Arthur hesitantly wrap his arms around her small waist, still confused about the sudden burst of emotion. His calloused hands laid flat against her back, she could feel his warmth through the thin material of her shirt. Arthur peered over Lydia's shoulder to the rest of the camp staring at the two as if they were putting on a show. Whilst distracted, he missed her mumble something into the thick material of his jacket.

"What?" He asked her, moving his hands down to grip either side of her waist. Using to the grip to push her away from him slightly, he noticed that she didn't look up at him. Her eyes and hands were focused on a loose thread of his white shirt. He didn't even think about the fact that his shirt was the only thing blocking their skin to skin contact. She resembled a child that knew they were in trouble but didn't want to deal with the consequences. His ears barely registered that she had mumbled again. He rolled his eyes to the sky, just wanting to know what was going on. "Lydia" he huffed, his eyes returning to look down at her. "Don't make me ask again."

Lydia took a deep breath before answering. Just thinking about telling him that she was leaving made a tear drop onto the ground below. "I'm leaving, Arthur."

He heard her that time.

Just from those three words, he could feel the walls around his heart crack and his core break in two. He stared at her bouncing curls in disbelief, needing to look into her eyes for the truth. Placing a finger under her chin to make her look up at him, he saw the beautiful face of a broken woman. The face, that he didn't know would stay with him for 10 years. Blue met green, tears already pouring from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks and falling from her chin.

She really was leaving.

"Why?" He asked, barely speaking the one-word answer. Any more words and she would be able to hear the effect she had on him. Behind his eyes, he could feel his own tears start to build up. He had promised her father that he would stay, protect and watch over her, but how was he meant to do that if she was gone.

"I've met a man, Arthur." The cracks of his broken heart deepened. "He says he can take me give everything I've wanted. Daddy never wanted me to have this life. He wanted me to get married to a good man and grow old with my children." Lydia wanted to say that she always hoped that man would be Arthur but she couldn't do that to him. The blonde knew all about Arthur's current romance with Mary Gillis and how taken he was with her. "I just want to honour him."

The two continued to cling onto each other, neither wanting to let go or say goodbye, but she needed to. She wanted to make her father proud by getting out of the criminal life, but that meant leaving her family. There were so many words and things she wanted to say to the man in front of her but her mouth wouldn't obey. All the emotions were stuck in her throat making her unable to talk.

"I understand." He breathed, still staring into her blue eyes. "No one ever wants this life but if you can find a way out. Take it." She gazed at him, her mouth slightly agape in shock. He wasn't meant to agree with her! He was meant to tell her to stay. Say that he was the only man for her, that he could give her what she wanted because she would be with him.

Hosea walked over, disrupting their silent moment. "It's time to go, you don't want to miss your train." He said solemnly to the girl he saw as the daughter he never had. As he left the tent, he picked up the rest of her things to load them onto the wagon.

"I guess this is goodbye." Lydia let go of Arthur to pick up her small suitcase. Arthur offered her his hand, doing the gentlemanly thing and taking her luggage. The two slowly ambled to the wagon, which was only a few feet away, wanting to take their time. With every step, it was as if they could feel time fly past. Memories of each other flooded their minds, showing just how important they were to the other.

Stay.

"Just for now, Miss Davis" Lydia smiled at him, finding it funny whenever he addressed her properly. They had known each other for years and he still called her by her last name sometimes.

"You promise, Mr Morgan?" She said hopefully, optimistic that the two would see each other again. He placed the suitcase into the back of the wagon, turning to look at her. Arthur leant against the wooden panel of the cart, nodding and smiling at the blonde. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, she could tell he was just telling her what she wanted to hear and it was working. Although he wasn't saying what she really wanted to hear.

Stay.

"We'll see each other again." The two walked to the front of the wagon where Hosea was quietly sitting, allowing the couple to have their time. This was the moment they were both dreading, it was her time to go. Arthur held his hand out for her, which she gladly accepted helping her onto the first step on the cart. But then she paused.

Lydia turned around to face him, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder to steady herself. Arthur instinctively placed a hand on her waist, not expecting her to whip around to look at him. She had no idea where the confidence had come from but she would regret it if she didn't say something now. There was a fierce look in her eye as she stared into his, trying to convey the seriousness. "Tell me to stay."

"What? Lydia I-"

"If you tell me to stay, I will." She stopped him, she had to get it out in one breath otherwise it would never be said. "Just say it, Arthur." She was begging him. He couldn't believe the honesty coming out of this woman's mouth. It was as if she was reading his mind. But hearing the words out loud was different. He couldn't do that do her. What if she regretted staying? What if they didn't work?

Go.

"I can't Lydia." A small gasp escaped her lips. "Take the opportunity to get out of here. To get away from us." He used his grip of her waist to turn her back around and help her onto the passenger seat of the cart. "Give yourself the life Warren always wanted for you and don't turn back." It seemed as if his brain wasn't cooperating with his mouth, no idea where these harsh words were coming from.

"Arthur-"

"Go or you'll miss your train." Arthur nodded at Hosea, who stared at him stared in surprise. Asking him with his eyes if this was how he wanted to leave things with her. He received his answer when Arthur spun on his heel to head back to camp with the small crowd that was gathering to wave her off.

"He's hurting just as much as you." The older man sighed. "He's just doing what he thinks is best." Lydia glanced at Hosea then dropped her head to look at her hands. Distracting herself by playing with the thin material of her skirt, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Hosea whipped the reins, making the horses spring into action and Lydia jump at the harsh sound.

Before the wagon moved out of sight and into the trees, she turned in her seat to look at the small family she was leaving. Dutch, Annabelle, Bessie and Miss Grimshaw all waving sadly, comforting each other until she was out of sight. However, her eyes were stuck on the young man behind the wall of adults. Snatching his old leather hat off his head and throwing it onto the ground in frustration at the situation and himself. The impact of the hat made a small dust cloud rise. Why didn't he just tell her to stay? Turning his back away from her, he dragged his hands through his dark hair at his own stupidity. That image marked her brain, the only thing that appeared when she thought of Arthur Morgan.

The coughing fit Arthur was currently having on his cot, woke up the blonde beside him. She couldn't bare leaving him to go back home to Gerald. Her mind would taunt her with scenes of Arthur whilst she laid next to her husband. Teasing her with his current state, making him worse because she wasn't there with him.

Lydia was still sat on the floor with her arms crossed on the bed acting as a pillow for her head. Her muscles were stiff after being there for a couple of hours, wanting to stay close to let him know she was still there. Beads of sweat appeared along his hairline, she reached for the small towel beside her to dab his forehead.

At the feel of the rough cloth against his skin, he tried to open his eyes to see who was tending to him. He blinked furiously to help his vision focus in the new light of dawn. The time of day where dark and light mixed to form a harsh glow on the eyes. Arthur felt a small hand lay on his chest, moving up to brush his damp hair out of his face. A softness stroked his coarse cheek, attempting to calm him down, which it did.

The first thing he saw was sunlight bouncing off a mass of light blonde curls. Confusion masked his face, believing he was reliving another memory of them but he couldn't remember this one. The woman in front of him was the older version of Lydia, the one he had seen in Rhodes.

"Shhh, it's okay. I got you." The sound of her angelic voice pierced through his coughing.

"Lydia-" The sound that came from his was a hoarse whisper, the coughing having done some damage to his throat. Lydia rotated to place the dirty rag in the bucket of water Miss Grimshaw had provided. Placing her elbow just by his head so that he could lean on her if necessary, resuming the caress through his long hair.

"I'm here." She spoke softly. The hand that was stroking his right cheek, drifted down to lay on his chest. Her fingers absentmindedly playing with the chest hairs poking through the loose gaps between the buttons of his long johns.

"No I-" He struggled whilst she played with his hair, which she knew would make him drift back to sleep. He grabbed her wrist with urgency, pulling her arm down just in front his face. He laced in fingers with hers, hands sweating at the burning sensation of their skin touching. The unusual display of affection made her blue eyes meet his green. "I should of-" he attempted to clear his throat, needing to get out what was on his mind.

"Arthur? I'll get you some clean water." She tried to get up from the floor to fetch him some water from Pearson's wagon, but his weighty grip held her in place. He wasn't letting her go.

"I should- I- I should have told you to stay." His voice was just above a whisper. The worried frown on Lydia's face deepen, not understanding the context of the confession. "All those years ago, I should have told you to stay with me."

He said it. He finally said it. She thought to herself, fighting against the grin trying to break through. There was nothing to stop the twinkling in her sky blue eyes though.

"Yes, you should of." She smirked at him. "But it's okay, I'm here now."

A small gasp sounded when she felt his dry cracked lips brush against the top of her hand. The blush reddened under his intense gaze, understanding the confession had been on his mind for a while. Years, in fact.

The temptation to lean over and kiss him was increasing but she didn't want to ruin the innocent moment they were sharing. A beautiful staring contest, where no words were spoken by everything was being said.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake." Her hand resumed the light caress through his greasy hair.

Closing his eyes, he thought about how this was the first time he wasn't scared to fall asleep. Feeling safe that someone was watching over him for a change.