Arthur woke with a cough already in his lungs. He struggled to hear, the voices foggy and unintelligible. A rugged, callused hand pressed on his forehead and he opened his eyes to find Dutch looking over him, his eyes so full of concern, Arthur hadn't realized how much he missed it.
It brought back a memory he had long forgotten - Arthur had only been with the gang three years, but he had proven himself many times over. Hosea was out with Bessie at the time and the gang was small in size. It was the time Dutch and Arthur had grown the closest - Dutch, a wise and prominent father figure. And Arthur, a hot-headed and impatient young man. Yet they had bonded and counted on each other over the years.
One night, Arthur had caught a fever, and a bad one at that. The gang was short on medicine and Dutch had ridden hard to town for more supplies. He returned and watched over Arthur like a hawk, helping feed and move him. It was the first time Arthur had had anyone dote on him or care for him.
As the years passed, those times passed as well, and Dutch wisened up to be a hardened man who pushed people away from him. Arthur always blamed Anabelle's death. Dutch had never been the same after that.
But as Arthur woke in present day, he had caught a glimpse of Dutch's former self. And then Dutch backed away and steeled his eyes once more, and Arthur could see the moment was over. He sat up, taking stock of where he was. The two of them were in one of those prison wagons, their legs and arms unbound. He was laying on the floor by Dutch's feet.
They were surrounded in a clearing with Pinkertons and Micah with his men. Tall trees outlined the clearing, the forest dark and hidden behind branches. Snow littered the ground in disarray from all the footsteps. Arthur slowly moved up to take a seat - Dutch surprisingly leaned in and grabbed Arthur by the arm to help - and he sat across from Dutch. Dutch handed him his father's hat, which Arthur put on with a bit of relief.
It had turned into night while Arthur had been out. He touched his bearded face and felt the crusted blood on it. Micah hadn't broken his nose, but it ached like hell.
"You really dying, aren't you?" Dutch asked suddenly, his voice nearly inaudible.
"Tuberculosis. Got it from Mr. Downes," Arthur said and sniffed. He looked away. "When I acted as a loan shark for Strauss."
"I…"
"Can't change it now." Arthur let out a long sigh and inspected the camp. Milton and Ross were there with at least fifteen to twenty men. Plus Micah and his ten men. Not very good odds. It would be a doomed fight from start to finish. "Is Charlotte okay?"
"She's over there. Pinkertons are supposed to escort her home," Dutch said. He motioned to where Charlotte sat on a wagon, a blanket over her shoulders. She was watching everything with wide and frightened eyes. "You got a plan, Arthur?"
"No. I'll be honest. It ain't lookin' good."
"Well. I do. But it requires us to get moving."
Arthur snorted. "'Course you do." Voices raised between Micah and Agent Milton as they argued about something. "But we might not even get that far."
Agent Ross walked over to the wagon and lit a cigarette. "Hello, Arthur. So good to see you again."
"Can't say the same."
"How did you escape the last time we caught you?"
"After you smashed my hand, you mean?" Arthur's hand ached at the memory.
"Oh yes. I'd nearly forgotten. Your hand doing okay?"
"It can still shoot your brains out, sure."
Ross frowned. "Funny. But you see, we are in a bit of a misunderstanding between Mr. Bell and ourselves. The agreement was John and Abigail Marston and Sadie Adler, as well."
"They ain't a part of this."
"Micah says they were. So they are. We might have to continue that hammering session of ours, Mr. Morgan, so we can find out where they are."
Arthur felt his knees go weak. He did not want it to come to that. "I ain't gonna tell you, Ross, no matter how much you torture me." Why was he the one being subject to all the beatings?
"What about Dutch, here?" Ross inquired.
"He don't know."
"I'll take your word for it, or both of you might suffer needlessly." Ross tipped his hat to them and walked back to the bickering men.
"Where are we?" Arthur asked.
Dutch took off his hat and brushed back a few strands of hair. "We made it down the mountain, that much I know. So not far. They intend to take us to Blackwater, so it'll be a few days ride. If we do go."
"It ain't gonna come to that." Arthur kept his eyes on Micah and Milton. He could see the frustration on Micah's face. They were either cheating Micah out of his money or forcing him to do something else for it. Milton turned away from Micah and started walking towards the wagon. He had a smug look about his face, knowing he had won.
But by the look on Micah's face, Arthur could tell this wasn't going to end well. Micah lifted his left hand, turned to his men, and yelled, "Fire!"
Hell broke loose as suddenly Micah's men fired on the Pinkertons. Everybody dived for cover and gunshots were fired in every single direction. Charlotte dodged into the back of the wagon and took cover. Arthur took this opportunity to lean over and grab the lock. If he had some sort of pin, he could force it open. Dutch tapped his shoulder and handed him a long lockpick. "Did you forget yours, Arthur?"
"Must have," Arthur huffed and grabbed the lockpick. All it took was setting the pin in and pressing it around until he felt the proper gears turn, then it popped open with a click and he pushed the door open. He and Dutch jumped out and dove for cover behind the wagon.
"Our guns are there!" Dutch yelled and pointed to another wagon deep in the cluster of Pinkertons. There was not a chance of grabbing their weapons. Arthur spotted a downed Pinkerton about ten feet away from him and ran to grab the rifle next to him. He slid in the snow and felt a bullet whiz past his ear, but then the rifle was in his hands and he was running for cover behind a tree.
Dutch did much of the same and found his own rifle, and together they tried to hold off the angry mix of people. Arthur saw a bright object get thrown over his head and land next to three Pinkertons and he dove for cover. A loud boom sounded along with men's screams. Then Arthur found Sadie at his side, helping stand him up. She had her hair tied back and was equipped with two pistols, a rifle, and a shotgun.
"Sadie," he huffed and gripped her in a bone crushing hug. He then covered her in quick kisses and let her go. "You found us!"
"We came across a Pinkerton who told us about you, and Javier came across us. He led us here. We been tryn' to track you ever since," Sadie elaborated quickly. "We gonna get you out of here."
A dark, scarred face peeked out from behind a tree and waved to Arthur. "Hey! Glad to see you're okay!" John shouted.
Charles stepped from around John and tossed another stick of dynamite at the remaining men of Micah's. It caught one of them in the explosion, but the other three fell back and disappeared into the forest.
"Micah's headed back up the mountainside," Dutch said. "Let's go."
"We'll hold off the Pinkertons," John said and shot over his shoulder towards where Ross stayed huddled with his men across the clearing. "You go get the bastard!"
John, Charles, and Javier provided cover for Arthur, Dutch, and Sadie as they ran back up the mountain path. Snow had begun to fall at a fast pace, covering the ground in a fresh new blanket of snow. They grabbed horses along the way as Micah's men had grabbed their own.
"Let's go, boah," Arthur whispered to Roy and then they were off at a wicked speed, Dutch and Sadie close behind. The path was curvy and dangerous. One small slip and they could go cascading down the side. Roy stayed true to the path, avoiding any obstacles, giving his full strength.
They caught up to the first grunt. Arthur steadied his aim and shot him in the back. The body fell to the side and tumbled off the mountain cliff. Arthur wasn't ready for the second man to be turned around and facing him. Arthur had Roy dodge to the side and heard Sadie scream; he halted his horse and caught Sadie's reins as the horse passed him.
Dutch shot twice and downed the man, then waited impatiently for Arthur, who dismounted his horse.
Arthur pulled Sadie down and set her on the ground. Blood coated her arm and only her arm, which he was eternally grateful for. It wasn't life threatening. She fought him to stand up. "I can still fight!"
"No. You stay here. That's final," Arthur grit out. He stood and smacked her horse so it could start running down the hill. "I'll come back and get you."
"Arthur Morgan, don't you dare leave me here," Sadie snapped. "Don't you-"
Arthur sealed her complaint with a kiss and backed away to his horse. "I love you, Sadie Adler. I wish we coulda had more time."
"Arthur!"
He hopped on his horse and followed Dutch up the path. In reality, this was not a great place for Micah to have run off too. There was only one path up and down and the mountain itself was rocky and treacherous; there would be a standoff at the top and Arthur was prepared to face it.
A man suddenly jumped down from above and knocked Dutch clean from his horse. Together they fell down a tiny ravine to a flat part of rock, with Dutch landing on top. Arthur knew Dutch would win that fight. He continued on.
He hopped off Roy and approached the top of the mountainside with caution. Micah's horse danced nervously off to the side, meaning Micah had dismounted and was prepared to fire. There wasn't much for cover up on the hill, as it was only covered in rocks and moss.
"This is it, Micah!" Arthur yelled. He continued up the incline until he saw Micah pacing back and forth along the far edge. He aimed the rifle at him.
"This is all your for fault, Morgan! You started this!" Micah yelled. He didn't bother to point his weapon at Arthur. "We coulda had something! But your selfishness got in the way!"
"I ain't gonna debate this with you," Arthur said. "Put down your weapons, Micah."
Micah jeered at him. "You are gonna die here, Morgan!" His hand shot to his pistol.
Arthur's rifle was already aimed for Micah's head. He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Pain exploded in his right shoulder and sent him falling to his side. He let go of the gun and held the blood seeping out of his shoulder. Stars danced in his vision and were suddenly replaced by Micah's face. It was like an onslaught of sudden fists and kicks to his body, jamming into his ribs, his groin, his face. He felt his nose snap as Micah continued beating on him.
Arthur's body had finally given out. He lacked the strength to fight back.
Then the kicks and punches halted and he felt Micah half fall on him, his body unmoving. Then the body was pulled off him and he was staring once again to Dutch's face, once again the dark eyes so full of concern, Arthur nearly didn't believe it. But Dutch was there, dragging Arthur's body through the snow towards the nearest horse.
Then Arthur was dropped to the ground and Dutch fell to his knees to the right of Arthur, blood splattering the front of his shirt. He looked over Arthur with glazed eyes and grabbed his hand.
"You gonna be a father, Arthur?" he asked him, speaking as if the blood on his chest didn't phase him.
Arthur weakly nodded. He didn't have the strength to speak and his voice was caught in his throat.
"Well. Good. You gonna be a great one. Me? I wasn't that great." Dutch's voice finally began to wane. "But you… you were the best, most loyal son... a man could ask for." Dutch's eyes went blank and he slumped forward onto Arthur's chest.
Arthur felt tears well up in his eyes and he put a hand on Dutch's back. "Dutch? … Dutch?"
"I had hoped to hang him," a breathless Milton called out. His was out of breath and his clothing in disarray. His eyes were frantic as he lowered his pistol to his side. "But he proved too dangerous. I'm not going to even bother shooting you. You look dead already. Pity, isn't it? The van der Linde gang had to go this way. Inglorious."
Dutch had a pistol in his left holster he must have grabbed along the way.
"We'll find the Mrs. Adler and John yet. Your outlaw life is over, Morgan, and know it was me-"
Arthur grabbed the pistol and shot Milton directly in the head, halting the man from finishing his speech. Milton toppled to the ground right as the snow had stopped falling. It had covered Dutch in a light dusting, his blood melting the snow and seeping into Arthur's shirt.
Sunlight broke over the mountains and Arthur thought of a sudden phrase the curious man Francis Sinclair had said.
Look to the sun.
And so Arthur did, and let it claim him.