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"John." Arthur grips his shoulder and John, for a moment, looks like he's going to shake the touch, before he takes a deep breath. "It's going to be alright. We'll get Jack back."

John gives a jerky nod and Arthur gives his shoulder a clap before stepping back and getting on the horse. Arthur doesn't try to offer anything else, knows that John is anxious, most likely blames himself for the kid going missing.

The fight in the graveyard goes as well as the last time - as far as some of that can be called well - not that Arthur doubts it. John is a good shot and carries the anger of a man fully realizing just how much the boy means to him. The anger of someone feeling the creeping regret and fear that he might have realized it too late, that he might never get the chance to make up for his foolishness until now. That all that's going to be left are memories that turn smokier and smokier until only blurred sensations and images remain. Arthur knows that, knows it too well, some days he can't even remember which color Isaac's eyes were or what Eliza's laugh sounded like.

When they get Jack back after the graveyard, Arthur can't help but shift closer to father and son. John certainly seems to notice the way Arthur has angled himself to partly cover them, and Arthur in return sees some of the angry, worried tension in John easing as he holds his son close.

His movement was subtle enough that it's largely missed too. Bronte's eyes merely gleam like he finds it amusing that Arthur stands between him and John and Dutch is too busy keeping an eye on the mob boss to pay attention to Arthur covering John's back as they leave. John, in return, keeps close enough to Arthur, in case anything happens. As if John wouldn't even think about leaving him behind should this suddenly go south. It makes Arthur breathe easier somehow, makes something in him feel calmer.

Abigail is overjoyed to have Jack with her again and Arthur breathes easier at having everyone at camp once again. And while granted, they're far from truly safe, at least for tonight, they're going to be okay.

"Thanks." John rasps, stepping up to him and staring after where Abigail takes Jack with her. There is a bit of a troubled look in his eyes, as though he wants to join them but doesn't know if he's really welcome. Arthur gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"'Course. Now, go be with your family."

Arthur takes a moment longer to watch over everyone, as John leaves, the relief that's palpable in the air. He makes a slow round too, checks in with everyone and has a few short, quiet conversations. He warns Tilly to be careful, so she doesn't get caught by members of her old gang. Her face hardens and there is some tension along her back, but she lifts her chin, eyes determined and nods.

Hosea looks relieved to have Jack back and yet also tense, Lenny has a serious spark in his eyes despite his smiles and Mary-Beth looks tired, exhausted and just happy to know they're all okay for now. Arthur circles back to the front of the house, when he notices Charles walking up to him.

"It went well?" Charles asks and Arthur exhales.

"Mostly." He murmurs. "But the thing with the Pinkertons...they're goin' to find us again."

"What are you boys mumbling about?" Tilly approaches them, turning concerned when she sees their faces. "What is it?"

"The Pinkertons." Arthur says and sees understanding flash on her face. "This isn't good, Tilly. We have to get away from here."

"I know, I think so too." She glances over at Dutch. "Soon, Dutch says. Once we have the money for it."

They'll never have enough. Arthur bites the retort back. Tilly doesn't deserve a bitter answer like that, especially since she isn't the one at fault. If anything, Tilly has been nothing but good and wonderful. So brave too. He remembers how she protected Jack back in Beaver Hollow and fled with him. Kept him safe. He remembers her staying until the bitter end, through it all. Maybe, to look after them, he thinks, maybe because she still believed that it would turn out okay. Tilly is strong, she might have felt like she had to try and keep them safe too, in any way she could. Nevermind that she's incredibly loyal. Incredibly kind.

"Thank you, for all your hard work, Tilly." He says and she blinks in surprise, before smiling.

"You're welcome Arthur. And you too, the way you're looking after us, it's been a great help. I'm glad to have you around." Her smile widens a bit. "Now go and party, both of you. There is enough time for seriousness later. Tonight, we got Jack back and we're all together again."

"Yeah, you're right." Charles agrees and she steps away again, moving to sit by the table, where Miss Grimshaw and Uncle have started up a song. After a glance at him, Charles's hand briefly touches his arm and he walks off as well, mingling with the others.

Arthur sees Dutch by the fire, starts to hear his speech about damn Tahiti and turns around to walk away. He just can't hear it. Not again, not when it feels like Dutch, in the end, didn't even want to take them to Tahiti. Arthur still doesn't even know where the hell Tahiti is and a part of him wonders if it might have been an idea Micah had given Dutch. It wouldn't surprise him if that was the case.

It doesn't take him long to find Sean and Kieran once he's looking for them. They're both inside the plantation house, Kieran lying on a bedroll and looking rather banged up, half his face covered in dark bruises and his arm in a sling.

"Sorry." He says, sounding as rough as he looks when he notices Arthur stepping into the room they're in. Arthur steps to his side and drops down to a knee, giving him a careful once over. There is something hazy in Kieran's eyes and Arthur is pretty sure he got a nice dose of laudanum to help his concussion. "I tried to, I really did..."

"I know." Arthur murmurs as calmingly as he can, carefully patting his uninjured shoulder as he tries to reassure him. "You did real well kid, don't worry. Now rest and heal up, alright? We got Jack back."

At least, like this, there really is no chance for the O'Driscolls to end up taking Kieran. Not for a while and knowing Miss Grimshaw, she's going to make sure the kid rests and heals properly. It helps no one after all, if Kieran stumbles around with a concussion and ends up breaking another bone or worse. Kieran's eyes fall closed, some of the tension easing from his face and Arthur straightens to turn towards Sean.

Sean's on a cot on the other side of the room, still looking incredibly pale, shadows starting to appear under his eye, but he's awake this time, face scrunched up in pain. It's the first time Arthur has seen him without at least the hint of a smile or a cocky expression on his face. Without that spark in his eye. If anything, Sean looks grave and troubled, along with pained.

"Arthur." He rasps, his accent even stronger now.

"Yeah, I'm here." Arthur stops at his side and crouches down, his mouth turning dry. "I'm sorry. I was too slow."

Sean huffs, but it lacks humor and sounds so weak, like he's really careful not to jostle any part of himself. Seeing Sean so still feels wrong. But at least he's alive, Arthur reminds himself and now mingled memories pop up. Of Sean falling with a hole in his head, of Sean falling against him and all that dripping blood as Arthur thinks he's lost him once again. Something about that memory makes him feel cold.

"You kiddin'? I'd be dead if it wasn't for you grabbin' me." Sean stares up at the ceiling, a brief, bitter expression twisting up his face. Arthur catches badly hidden fear too. "I'm useless now. One eyed outlaw. Can't shoot for shit like this."

"You'll learn again." Arthur's voice sounds stronger now, sure enough that Sean cautiously moves his head enough to be able to look at him. Arthur holds his searching gaze. "You will heal and you will learn to shoot again. Remember all those stories Hosea read to you, trying to get you to learn reading? The one with the one eyed pirate?"

Sean closes his eye for a moment, looking pained in a different way. "That's a children's tale, Arthur."

"Doesn't have to be." He answers, resisting the urge to frown and grab Sean's shoulders. He knows Sean can do it. Kid has the dogged determination to get anything done, has the same tenacity as a dog with a bone. "You'll get it figured out, Sean, I know that much. You ain't useless."

Sean exhales heavily enough that Arthur notices some subtle tension seeping out of him. The kid stares up at the ceiling once more and then carefully turns to look at him again, face showing a rare, solemn and worried expression. Something surprisingly young and just scared enough that he notices it.

"Think Dutch will keep me around? Even with all this trouble?" Without him being useful for a long while, Sean asks without actually voicing it.

"If he doesn't, I will." Arthur answers without a second of hesitation. Though he's certain that Dutch wouldn't kick Sean out, he's not throwing Uncle or Swanson out either and both aren't exactly very useful, aside from depleting their alcohol. He catches the way Sean's eye widens briefly and how he exhales like he's secretly relieved at hearing that no matter what, he still has Arthur on his side.

Then a small frown follows, before Sean's jaw hardens. He lifts a hand and Arthur grips it, giving it a squeeze. Sean's fingers feel unnaturally cold and they grip him back with surprising force. But he looks more awake now, gaze sparking with something that lets Arthur know he can count on the kid. Something that makes him breathe easier. To see life again in Sean instead of just bitter pain and dark worry.

"You'll be alright." He says and then let's go again. "Just rest up. The sooner you're healed up, the sooner you can be on your feet again. And start missing bottles while shooting."

"A barrel o' laughs like always, aren't ya, Arthur." A bit of the familiar near sarcastic tone is back in Sean's voice and it makes Arthur breathe a little easier. Sean turns more serious the next moment, swallowing. "Just, you know, if anything comes up, I mean I ain't much use now but you can count on me, ya know that, right?"

"Course." Arthur hold his gaze. "I know that kid. Now, rest up."

He steps back out of the room, only to pause as Karen brushes past him, heading straight for Sean, a plate with some plain, soft bread on it in her hand. Arthur grabs for the door to close it behind her, when he catches part of their conversation.

"You sure you want to be here?" Sean asks, one hand sluggishly waving in the vague direction of a window, as she sets the plate down on his belly. "With the party out there."

"Oh shut up." Karen answers, already sitting down beside his cot. In the next moment, she reaches up and grips Sean's waving hand. From the way both their knuckles turn briefly white, they're both gripping each other tightly. "I ain't going nowhere, you foolish idiot. I thought..." She stops and he catches the way she takes a slightly ragged breath. "I thought you was dead."

"No, still right here." Sean's voice is a bit softer now and Arthur hears Karen take another deep breath. "You ain't getting rid of me that easy."

Arthur quietly closes the door to give them their privacy. The sound of steps cause him to look up and he's surprised to see John walking in. He's carrying Jack, the boy's head resting on his shoulder and from the looks of it, the kid's asleep. He must be exhausted after a day like that and the ride back, along with the party. Abigail follows after them, face a mixture of lingering relief and exhaustion after the whole ordeal. Her eyes on John carrying Jack carry a new sort of softness and Arthur catches a glimpse of something achingly hopeful. Of the love she still holds for John.

Arthur nods at them and follows them up the creaking stairs to his own room. He needs to get some rest as well, he knows, with as little real sleep as he got watching over Sean and after the day they all had in Saint Denis.

"Arthur." John's voice holds him back after the man has brought Jack to their shared room and he steps back out a moment later. Letting his hand drop from the handle of his door, Arthur turns back around. "You have a second?"

"Sure."

At John's gesture, he opens the door to his room and steps inside, John following him. John's closing the door behind them and then turns around, frowning slightly.

"What's going on Arthur?" He asks, voice low and urgent. "Because I ain't stupid. I noticed you changin' ever since those mountains. You got all..." He makes a gesture and then looks close to grim in his seriousness. "And things, they don't look good. I have my family to look after, as much as Abigail is willing to let me after everything and...something is going on, I can tell."

Arthur inhales and exhales slowly, scratching through his beard for a moment, before giving a curt nod. He can tell John, he knows he can.

"There's no Yankee gold out here." He says. "All that happens is that Dutch is gettin' us into more an' more trouble. Because the Pinkertons? They ain't gonna stop. They're after us and they found us twice already. Always when we shoulda been safe. They're goin' to find us again and then what? We already received two warnings, there won't be a third."

And there won't be, he knows it. He remembers Hosea falling, remembers the shooting at the bank, remembers Lenny on that roof. Remembers things he wish had gone different. Remembers Dutch betraying him and John, John scrambling to try and keep his family safe and alive, Arthur trying to help them get out and away. He knows he'll never forget any of it. None of the deaths, none of the pain, none of the things that led to that horrible end it took. He won't forget lying on that mountain top, lungs failing, body falling still and trying to catch that one last, desperate glimpse of the sun, heart full of regret and yearning.

"Have you told Dutch?" John asks with a frown. "I mean, we just need more money and then we're out of here, right?"

But even as he says it, Arthur can hear that John doesn't really believe that line no more either. Can hear his worry that this time, truly, Dutch won't get them through this. And he's right. He would be right to grab his family and leave, like he had all those years ago only this time, he shouldn't come back. To run and not look back. Arthur swallows, the memory of that dark night on the mountain appearing again. How John had looked at him, would have stayed if Arthur had asked him, almost had if he hadn't sent him on his way. Arthur remembers the pain in his own chest at sending him off like that, as briefly as he had allowed himself to feel it before pushing it back down in favor of buying John as much time as possible.

"You think he'd listen?" Arthur asks, a small grimace pulling at his face and he tips his head to hide it. "I tried talkin' to him, John. And think of all the other times before where we had enough money. Think about Dutch rejecting farms and land, always sayin' that it wasn't safe enough or the law was on us or it was a trap. After every job we do, there is just another one and another one and we just keep making enemies. You think he'd listen now, if I told him to stop?"

He can see the answer in John's face. Can see that he, too, knows that Dutch wouldn't listen. And Arthur knows John is well aware of how their situation turns steadily grimmer. As much as Arthur used to joke about John being dumb, he really isn't. There is no way John didn't catch on that things are really bad. Too bad in fact.

"Then what..." John's voice trails off and something shifts in his expression, a new sharpness appearing in his eyes, understanding brightening his features. "That's why Hosea keeps telling us to go to you if we have any trouble."

"What?" Arthur pauses, surprised and taken aback. "He does that?"

"Yeah." John rubs a hand over his face, eyes sweeping as he thinks. Then he looks up, eyes sharp. "What are you planning?"

"I've been savin' up money. It's not going to be easy, I know that, but it should be enough to get us and whoever comes along out of here. And most likely enough to buy land elsewhere. This world doesn't want folks like us no more, John. We have to get out of here before it's too late."

Arthur can see John think, can see the way his gaze briefly flicks over to where Abigail and Jack are past the door, across the hall. He can see the moment John makes a decision and squares his shoulders. When their eyes meet, he feels like he has John fully with him again, like back when they stood together against Dutch, back when John called him brother. His throat tightens briefly and he takes a moment to rub over his chin, tipping his hat so he can chase the sensation away again.

"How much?" John takes a step closer. "I mean, I have a bit of savings too. Maybe two hundred or something. Abigail should have a bit too, she always tries to have some money in case Jack needs something."

"A couple thousand." Arthur admits. "Maybe nine thousand or so, especially after that bank job in Valentine. A big part of it is jewelry and watches, some gold bars too I found hidden in places."

John's eyes widen briefly, his mouth hanging open for a second, before understanding spreads over his face once more. "That's why you were running around so much, gone for days. Since when? When did you start?"

"Back in the Heartlands." Arthur murmurs. "After all this mess started."

John exhales heavily and rocks back on his feet, nodding. "Okay, okay. Who would come with us?"

"Well, Abigail and Jack, obviously. Sadie and Kieran too, I think, if we ask them. Sean might and Karen as well. Lenny, possibly. Charles, I hope. I think we can convince him to come along. We should try taking Cain too, for Jack." He wets his lips and makes a bit of a helpless gesture. "Mary-Beth and Tilly I hope, but I'm not sure. I'll try to convince Hosea too."

John nods. "Okay, yeah." He rubs a hand over his mouth, still frowning slightly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Arthur blows out a breath and feels his shoulders sag a bit. He's almost surprised to feel his worry lessen and his tension lighten, now that he knows John and his family are onboard with the plan. Now that he has John at his side once more.

"I'll let you know. Just, keep an eye out, if you can and your bags packed, something quick to grab and easy to travel with. Don't tell anyone else either, not yet. Especially Micah. Stay away from Micah in general, if you can."

Oh god Micah...Arthur still doesn't know what to do about him, not at all. The situation is so tangled up in all this mess, for now, he's honestly just focused on trying to see how many people he can get out of it before everything gets blown to all hell. And Micah...that particular problem honestly needs to wait.

"Micah? Sure, I don't like the guy anyways." John says with a small snort, but his eyes are serious. He pauses and something complicated crosses over his face.

"What is it?" Arthur asks, because he can see the held back words from a mile away.

"I just wish Dutch would..." John rakes a hand through his hair, the same helplessness Arthur felt once before visible in the gesture. The same hidden hurt.

"I know. Believe me, I know." Briefly, Arthur feels his thoughts darken with memories. "But if we stay, he'll drag us down whatever road he's on. John, you know I've been with them for twenty years. I've been loyal, I've been and done everything Dutch asked of me."

He sees the small grimace on John's face, as the man remembers some of the things that happened and Arthur feels like doing the same. Once again, bitter betrayal rises in his throat and he has to swallow it down, has to swallow down his memories of Dutch treating him like it was Arthur who was the problem, who was the one in the wrong.

"I don't say or do this lightly, you know that." Arthur continues. "But I will not die for Dutch's impossible dreams. I will not die for him to make a statement about a better America. And I will do what I can so neither of you die for him either."

John doesn't look surprised at this admission and something about that makes Arthur feel better. Makes him feel like he's done a better job this time around, of making people feel safe with him and that they can trust him. That he has their back.

"You can count on me." John says, chin lifted a bit and he reaches out to grip Arthur's shoulder, before taking a step back. Then he pauses. "And I think you can count Charles in. You guys was thick as thieves the last weeks, he'd come if you ask him to."

"We was?" Now that John says it, yeah, he isn't wrong. Arthur has been eating more often than not with Charles, chooses to sit beside him by the fires if possible, has talked with him a lot more too. Charles probably one of the folks Arthur feels closest to by now. Partly, he knows it's because he trusts Charles, knows that he can count on the man to have his back, has all those memories of him, and partly it's because they really do get along very well. Arthur enjoys his company. John's words give him hope. Hope that John is right.

"Night, Arthur." John says with a brief, wry smile, something thoughtful to his eyes, like he thinks he realized something Arthur hasn't caught up on yet.

The door falls closed quietly behind him and Arthur hears his muffled steps on the floorboards. Listens until he can tell that John is back in the room he shares with Abigail and Jack. Then he exhales heavily and closes his eyes, shoulders sagging and a great exhaustion catching up with him.

"It's going to be okay." He murmurs and hopes that he's right. Hopes that the sensation of time running through his fingers is not as bad as it feels to him. Though with John on his side now, he feels a bit better. Feels little less like he's going to slip and fall with the wrong step.

They have a chance to make it out of here. A small one and a chance they're going to have to work hard for, but a chance nonetheless.

~*~

Wearing a suit makes him feel like he looks just as stupid as the last time. Besides, not wearing his hat is downright strange, adding to his discomfort. At least they're on the way back from the party and he can pluck on the clothes without getting reprimanded for it. This is the last thing, Arthur thinks to himself. This is the last thing he can allow to happen like in the past, before he has to gather people and leave. That and Rains Fall, he'll meet the chief after this and help him where he can. But they have to be gone before that trolley accident and most certainly before Angelo Bronte gets drowned by Dutch. Arthur has to get people away before that.

It's...strange, really, to take the reins like that. Arthur has never been much of a leader, has always been content to follow Dutch and Hosea. He knows he isn't going to be all that good at it, knows that no matter how much people like him this time around, no matter how hard he tried to ensure they know they can trust him and that he has their best interest at heart, he's still not going to be good with words. But by god will he try his hardest to help them all get to a better, safer life. To ensure they'll survive.

"Arthur." Dutch's near disapproving voice draws him out of his thoughts and he glances at the man, who looks gleeful, joyful even, after attending the mayor's party and the opportunities found there. All Arthur knows is that it's going to end in bloodshed and so much going wrong. "Will it hurt you to drop that pensive look for once? Come on, this was a fun night."

"Sure, Dutch." Arthur says and notices that his voice falls flat. Dutch seems to notice as well. Arthur sees the tiny shift in his expression, the subtle sharpening of his eyes that's usually not a good sign. And usually, it's not directed at people he calls family.

"Arthur, I noticed that you've been...doubting me, recently." Dutch says, idly rubbing his thumb a little over the cigar between his fingers. His voice falls to something that could be gentle. All Arthur hears is a man who tries to pull him back into his ranks. A man who starts to think Arthur might be the one causing trouble soon. "Is there something going on, that I should know?"

Hosea and Bill have fallen quiet and Arthur can see the way Bill scowls at him, the expression partly hidden by his beard. Hosea on the other hand, appears like he's getting ready to step in and defuse the situation.

"I don't like this Dutch." Arthur says, because he wants to avoid lying unless he has to.

"You don't like anything." Dutch says, sounding that mixed of annoyed, disappointed and the beginnings of angrily exasperated, as he throws his hands up a little. "You have to stop doubting Arthur. Have a little faith."

"Faith isn't gonna keep us from dyin'." Arthur feels the retort slip out before he can stop it and he holds Dutch's gaze as the man looks back at him. "That thing with Sean? That was dumb luck, nothing else. Two warnings from the Pinkertons? There won't be a third. We are deep in this Dutch."

"And we'll get out of it." Dutch's evidently changed tracks, voice returning to that gentling, calming tone. He puts a hand on his shoulder and Arthur has to resist the urge to shake it off. For some reason, it feels too heavy and makes his skin itch. "Have faith, Arthur. Have faith, in me. I got a plan."

Yeah, like so many other plans, all busted, because Dutch couldn't be bothered to leave behind the one guy responsible for the Pinkertons finding them. Micah. Though, looking at Dutch, Arthur thinks that even without Micah it would all have come to an end. Micah is just the noose come early, while Dutch is their grave. Not this time though, if he can help it.

Arthur thinks about the treasure hidden in that rotting cabin. Thinks about the all those thousand dollars tucked away. He gives Dutch a nod, puts enough strength into the gesture that Dutch is appeased, the intensity fading from his face. As Dutch faces back forward, once more returning to a cheerier mood, Arthur meets Hosea's gaze. Sees understanding there and a hidden sadness as the man gives him a nearly imperceptible nod. Almost like Hosea knows that Arthur's going to leave soon.

Not without you, Arthur thinks and there is a bite of desperation in it. He'd sooner stay himself and send everyone willing away with his collected money than leave Hosea behind. To leave him to die because Dutch couldn't be bothered to accept the change of the world, to accept when he had to really stop instead of just making more and more enemies.

Arthur knows they're going to have to change their ways, once they're out of here. Accepts it with an ease that comes from knowing death, knowing grief and heartbreak deep and strong enough that he can still taste it even now when he thinks of it. An ease that's born from the way only death can sometimes make things clear. Besides, doing honest work ain't so bad. Especially if it means he doesn't lose anyone again.

~*~

"Sadie, do you have a moment?" Arthur asks the next morning, early enough that only very few other people are awake. She looks up in surprise and then nods. When he gestures for her to take a step aside with him so they can talk in private, her face shifts to serious.

"What is it?" She asks and then tilts her head slightly, sharp gaze catching on. "Are you going to tell me what has you running around so much? I'm not stupid Arthur, I know something is going on. You're planning something, ain't you?"

"It's..." He searches for the right words for a moment, before deciding for direct honesty. "I plan on leaving, with some of the others. Abigail, Jack and John are going to come. I wanted to ask if you would come with us too."

He sees her blink, looking taken aback for a second and then she frowns. "I thought you was loyal to Dutch."

"I'm loyal to what matters." Arthur answers without hesitation, then takes a deep breath, keeping his voice quiet. "You can't tell me you don't see it. As you said, you ain't stupid. You see where Dutch is takin' us. I've seen what that path does to people and I will do what I can to keep folks from dyin'. This is no longer the life for us. We got to go."

She licks her lips, looking aside and over the camp, clearly thinking. Arthur watches the way her fingers tighten on her rifle and then sees her come to a decision. It's in the way her shoulders straighten, her stance firms and she turns to him, meeting his gaze straight on, her eyes sparking with that blazing force that he remembers so well. Fury and compassion, loyalty that isn't blind but given to those she thinks deserving of it. That she once again extends it to him is a damn gift. Arthur already knows that he'll do his best to do right by her. To do right by everyone.

"I'll come with you." She says and then snorts, though it's entirely without humor. "Damn, I wanted to see Colm dead, but who knows, I might still get the chance to kill him myself later on." Something about her settles just a bit, softens almost. "And, I get it, I want to see them safe too. "

"I know." He feels relief at having her with him, his shoulders relaxing a tad. No matter what happens to him, with Sadie on their side, they definitely are going to be okay. "Thank you, Sadie."

"Anyone else who comes along?" She asks, taking a step closer now and he can see her already planning. Sees the strong, smart woman who would survive anything thrown her way, who took the place of a leader, back when everyone thought they had died after that botched robbery. Sadie had kept the camp together with Charles and she had done it incredibly well. She has greatness in her, he thinks and hopes she'll find purpose again past her grief fueled fury. Finds true happiness again someday.

"Not sure yet." Arthur says. "But, be prepared. We might have to leave suddenly."

"Got it. Don't have much in means of possessions anyways." She says and then takes a deeper breath, her frown deepening a bit. "Does Dutch know?"

"No." Arthur doesn't even want to imagine Dutch's reaction - though he can, can imagine the anger. And while Dutch might let them go anyways, he also might not do so without protesting vehemently, could see them leaving as betrayal. Either way, Arthur doesn't want to risk anything. "And I want to keep it that way."

"Got it." She takes a step back, face serious. "Take care, Arthur. Watch out for yourself."

He nods and they split ways, Sadie going to get coffee and then stand guard, while Arthur heads for Storm. He'll go and look for Rains Fall and see what he can do to really help him this time around. To be better than some kind of blood sucking mercenary who can't be bothered to look past his own shadow without the motivation of money. Rains Fall had been nothing but kind to him, despite Arthur's callousness and this time, Arthur is going to find a way to return that.

"You're heading out?" Charles asks, coming up to where Arthur is preparing to leave, to ride once again to Saint Denis. Damn it, he sees more of the city than he wants to.

"Yeah, to Saint Denis and to meet with the Indian chief, Rains Fall." Arthur answers, tilting his head to the side as Storm looks over his shoulder, so she doesn't accidentally nudge his hat off. There is a small twitch of a smile on Charles's face as he lifts a hand to scratch her nose. Arthur pauses and then decides to just ask. "Want to come along?"

He's done this all alone the last time, but maybe it's going to help to have Charles there, who is so, so much better at being a good person. Nevermind that Charles is going to talk with the guys up in Wapiti either way and maybe, they can help avoid that tragedy with Eagle Flies and all that other, ugly mess with the army.

"Sure, I'd like to." Charles gifts him a smile and Arthur finds himself giving a small smile in return, motioning for the man to get going.

Soon enough, they ride away, side by side, waving at Javier in parting, who guards the front gate. Javier looks tired but alert enough and Arthur is certain he's more than ready for someone to relieve him so he can get breakfast and catch up on sleep. Javier. Arthur already knows that the guy won't come with him, loyal to Dutch as he is and Arthur hasn't managed to talk with him as often as he'd liked with how busy he was, still is. He feels regret for it. There is a part of him that can't help but keep remembering both how it all ended, how Javier turned on him and all the times Javier helped, cared and was genuinely good company. He doesn't know what to do and that thought makes him frustrated often enough.

"So." Charles starts when they're on the road and quite a bit away from Shady Belle. "What is going on? Don't give me that look, I noticed. You're planning something, what is it?"

Arthur briefly tightens his grip on the reins, swallows and takes a deep breath. "I'm going to leave." He says and catches the surprise on Charles's face. "And I've been meanin' to ask you, if you want to come with me. Well, with me an' John, Jack an' Abigail. Sadie too and whoever else wants to come along."

There is a long moment of heavy silence. "Yeah, I'll go with you." Arthur feels close to sagging with relief, his heart and shoulders feeling lighter at once. "Just tell me why? And why now?"

"We won't get out of this mess." Arthur answers and feels some of his grimness return. "The Pinkertons, Cornwall, the mess with the Grays and Braithwaites, the law, it's only going to get worse from here. And sure, we've been in worse scrapes before, but this? This ain't a scrape no more and Dutch won't listen. So I'll leave and take everyone I can with me."

"You've been suspecting that since we came here, didn't you?" Charles's voice is thoughtful, like he starts to connect the dots. "Do you have a plan?"

"I have money saved up. Quite a bit of it." Arthur admits, though there is one thing he hasn't yet figured out. "All that's left is finding out how to get past the Pinkertons patrolling the mountains and go west. Blackwater is still far too dangerous to try and get away by headin' south."

"Trelawney might be able to help." Charles offers and Arthur blinks, pausing. Damn, why didn't he think of that sooner? Of course, Trelawney would help him, even if he had to pay the man, but if someone could find a way to get them out of here, it would be him. "Aside from that, we can always think about taking the mountains again."

Arthur remembers some paths up in those mountains, dangerous and only possible if they are on horseback, with no wagons or anything of the sort. They might have to leave a large part of their things behind when they're going to move, especially if they have to travel light and fast. But it's a way out of here and he would have the money so they could buy things again once they reach a safe place. Though, damn, he honestly doesn't know if Sean could take that kind of journey. Arthur might end up killing him himself trying to climb over the mountains. Feeling grim, he takes a deep breath. Either way, Arthur resolves to talk with Trelawney. The man should keep quiet about it, hell he might even come with them for a bit.

"I will ask him." Arthur says and then exhales slow and long, letting his shoulders relax a bit. "Thank you."

"What for?" Charles asks, glancing over at him.

"For having my back, for trustin' me." Arthur looks back at him. "For comin' with us."

There is a small smile appearing on Charles's face and he reaches over to give Arthur's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his hand resting there a moment and Arthur feels more tension sap out of him at the warm touch. "Of course."

~*~

Rains Fall is as Arthur remembers him, a man who carries a quiet sort of regality, who carries a strength Arthur can't help but admire. Though he's tired too, ready to do what he can for his people but no longer willing to shed blood, too worn by all the years he spent fighting. His son on the other hand is not willing to just let all those slights and crimes against his people go. Rightfully so, and yet, Arthur knows what it's going to lead to.

This time, he offers to help them without asking for money or brushing them off. He remembers Eagle Flies saving his life, remembers Rains Fall's kindness, how the man listened to him as he talked about Isaac and Eliza, collected herbs for him. Arthur remembers his regret at being unable to save Eagle Flies, remembers the chief's grief.

"Do you think this will help them?" Charles asks as they ride north to meet with Eagle Flies and get the documents back. "This sounds really serious."

Arthur thinks that taking the documents would have helped in the past too, if not for Colonel Favours. A thought comes to mind then and it almost wants to make him let out a bitter sort of laugh. Money. Everything revolves around money. "How bribable do you think the army is?"

Charles looks surprised by the change of topic and then thoughtful. "As much as any other institution I guess. There are always people willing to take money and look the other way."

Maybe Arthur can't make the problems of the natives go away. But maybe, he can grease some palms to get Favours transferred so Captain Monroe has less trouble with keeping the army in line around here. He certainly would do a better job and would ensure the treaty would be kept. It could be what's needed to keep Eagle Flies alive.

"That is your thinking face." Charles points out. "What is it?"

"Just planning for something." Arthur answers. Looks like he'll have to talk to Trelawney about two things now. If anyone knows about who to start with when it comes to bribing the army, it should be Trelawney. "I'll tell you when I know if it's going to work."

Charles hums in agreement and they speed up their horses, galloping down familiar roads.

Thankfully, stealing the papers goes as well as can be expected. Which is to say, there is an explosion again and a gunfight and Arthur wonders why so many things in his life just have to end in bullet filled madness. It's very helpful to have Charles around, an extra set of guns he can trust and they make it out of the factory far faster than the last time Arthur was there.

"Thank you." Eagle Flies says as he accepts the documents Arthur offers him. "I hope these help."

"Take care." Arthur tips his hat and the chief's son rides off. Charles, who keeps a bit of an eye on their surroundings in case any pursuers or O'Driscolls or other outlaws show up, glances over at him.

"Ready to ride back?" He asks and Arthur nods.

"Yeah, I need to speak with Trelawney. And, Charles, let's keep this quiet for now. I don't want Dutch to find out that we're leaving."

"Of course." Charles looks at him for a moment. "This isn't easy on you, is it? From what I heard, you were with him for twenty years."

Arthur can't help but tilt his head forward and hide the way he closes his eyes for a moment. Once again, he remembers, remembers the way betrayal ate through his insides, entwined with disbelief and then pain. How Dutch walked away in that factory, how Dutch betrayed John too. How it all ended so, so horribly.

"I wasn't the one who started this." He says quietly. "And the world has changed. We either get our act together or die stuck in the past."

"That's pretty grim, but, I think I understand. We raised quite the amount of hell." Charles briefly touches his elbow, steady and grounding and it helps Arthur shake the memories loose again. "Come on, let's ride back."

~*~

"Trelawney, do you have a moment?" Arthur calls to the man who is standing at the side of the camp with a mug of coffee and a small, thoughtful frown on his face. It's early morning once again and Trelawney turns in surprise.

"Of course, dear boy, what is it?"

"The Indians have some trouble with the army." Arthur says, stopping at his side. "I was wonderin' if there are some...individuals willing of receiving a certain encouragement to help transfer away a man that makes things less than easy and help a local Captain to take charge." He rubs his fingers together to emphasize what he means with encouragement.

"Ah, I see." Trelawney falls quiet for a moment and then his face brightens. "Oh yes, I think I may know of someone like that. We'd have to ride up to Strawberry though to meet this gentleman."

"I have time." Arthur answers, though, truth be told, he isn't sure about that no more. Time is certainly running out and it's making him antsy in a way he isn't used to. Tense and nervous and restless. John has caught on, sticking a bit closer to him than before when they meet in camp, watching more over his family. Charles as well seems to know, hanging around him more often whenever they're in camp together. Lenny too, from the way the kid keeps meandering over, like he wants Arthur to know if anything is up, all he has to do is ask. That he still has his back.

Sean too gives him looks like he's very well aware of what's going on and Arthur knows he won't have to have a conversation about leaving with the kid. Sean's look is enough to go by. Just like the way he gripped his arm briefly yesterday and told him to let him know if 'options are open'. It gives Arthur the feeling like he and Lenny might have talked too.

Nevermind Hosea, whose eyes grow ever more understanding and, as well hidden as it is, sad. Arthur still has to tell him to come along, in all that mess, he hasn't yet found the time to speak with him. Especially with how Hosea keeps Dutch distracted - yeah, he noticed that too, even if they end up arguing a few times because of it.

Sadie just gives him a clear nod, eyes as determined as always when given with a task and he knows she's ready to see them all get to safety.

"Well then, I suppose I as well have time." Trelawney says with a brief smile and takes a last sip of his coffee, before putting the mug away. "Alright then, follow me."

On the way out, Arthur nods at Charles at the entrance who nods back, understanding brightening in his eyes. Swallowing, his mouth dry, Arthur really hopes he ends up doing the right thing with this. His eyes briefly catch sight of Micah back in camp, staring after him with an expression he doesn't like. Not that he likes anything about Micah, but that look makes something cold slither down his spine. Damn. Right. Micah. He still hasn't thought as much about that particular problem, busy as he is figuring out a way around Dutch and how to save folks and generally to try and do what's right.

Though, as bitter as the thought is, as long as Micah doesn't force his hand, at this point in time, he's going to have to leave him alive. If he kills him, Dutch would be far too furious and how should Arthur explain that Micah is a rat with no evidence at all? And, as dark as the thought makes him feel, revenge is a fool's business. He can't afford it with so many folks to keep safe and help to get away from here. It's bitter, but it feels necessary to leave Micah be.

Still, he can't deny that there is a part of him that itches for Micah's blood. To finish what they started in another life. Who maybe hopes that Micah tries to start something so Arthur has a good, justified reason for blowing out his brains. On the other hand, Micah is, sadly, far from stupid. If he antagonizes him, Micah would be just careful enough that Arthur can't do anything.

"I have to say, it is quite unexpected that you wish to aid the natives." Trelawney remarks as they ride at a steady, swift pace. "Though I've heard you have been helping around a lot lately. People in camp speak rather fondly of you these days." Trelawney gives him a small smile. "It is good to see you doing better."

"Folks deserve it." Arthur answers, voice tipping towards a mumble. He doesn't think he's really worthy of the praise. He's not doing it for recognition or anything either. He's merely doing what he can to right previous wrongs and tries to keep everyone alive. "Just paying back some debts, is all."

"Of course." Trelawney's voice sounds a bit too light, like he doesn't believe it but won't contradict Arthur either. "Well then my dear boy, let's ride."

The whole way to Strawberry, Arthur mulls over how to ask Trelawney if he has an idea how to help them get away from the east and back to the west. Far enough that he can finally breathe again at the sight of land that seems to stretch endlessly. At feeling like he's reached a place he can call home.

Trelawney leads him to a man living at the side of Strawberry when they arrive. A rather high ranking army man, ready for retiring but still with plenty of influence. More than that, the man is sympathetic to the situation of the Indians and agrees to do what he can, accepting the money Arthur hands him, saying he'll know which people to talk to.

"You're good men." He tells them as he steps back. "With the next army train, you can expect a change. Your Captain Monroe and the chief can rest easy."

Arthur doesn't know how long that's going to take and he doesn't know if they're still going to be here then, but he's going to take his word for it. He also trusts Trelawney, the man knows people and has yet to lead him to someone who doesn't hold their end of the bargain. Something like a thief's honor, maybe, a sort of honor amongst the bribable. Which sounds very strange in and of itself.

"Trelawney." He holds the man back just as they walk away from the house. "There is one more thing."

"What is it?" Trelawney looks at him and there is a subtle understanding blooming on his face. "Is it about what is worrying you so much?"

Arthur isn't very surprised that Trelawney caught on - damn at this point it looks like almost everyone knows something is up with him - and he nods, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Is there a way out of here? A train we can take? Or a boat or anything?"

Trelawney blinks, tilting his head in slight confusion. "I thought Dutch wanted to get more money before leaving for Tahiti?"

Arthur takes a careful breath and just looks at Trelawney. Watches the realization dawn on him and the way the man leans back for a moment, settling on his heels, before frowning and taking a step closer.

"Are you certain about this, Arthur?" He asks, voice low and eyes searching.

"More than anything else." Arthur's answer is close to rasping, steady and serious. "And tell me you don't see it Trelawney. What we're heading to. You're too smart for that for both of us."

"I see. I can say I understand." His brows furrow in thought, before slightly lifting his chin, a sudden business like look in his eyes. "How many people are we talking?"

Arthur exhales, lifting his hands a bit and spreading them slightly. "Not sure, ten, maybe, or eight? I don't know how many of them come with me."

Trelawney rocks on his feet for a moment, gaze sliding sideways as he thinks. "Yes, I think there might be a way. It will cost you, though and it will be very short notice. A train. I know the engineer and the captain of the guards. Both discouraged men who are willing to let brave, changing folks drive with them and keep them from the eye of the law."

Arthur exhales in a strong gust, resisting the urge to sag a bit. "Thank you, Trelawney. Really."

A gloved hand touches his shoulder and Arthur looks up. Trelawney looks kind and understanding now, giving him a smile that's both wistful and just a touch proud.

"Of course, Arthur. I might not be around all the time, but I care for you. The train will pass through in two days, if we're not counting today. Gather everyone at Wallace Station and pack light, if you can." His grip tightens slightly as his face turns serious. The most serious Arthur has seen him in a long while. "Don't miss it, my friends won't come through here again in a long while. This is your chance, Arthur. Don't miss the train."

"I won't." Arthur vows and feels almost dizzy with his relief, even if it means they'll have to get going almost immediately. Especially with Sean and Kieran, those two can't travel fast. "How much will it cost?"

"For all of you? It's going to be over a thousand. A thousand and seven hundred, I reckon" He holds up a hand as he starts to see the grimace on Arthur's face. "I know, I know. But they'll take you west. I assume that's where you want to go?" At Arthur's nod he gives his shoulder a reassuring clasp. "It's a worthy price, for your safety, the transport of the horses I know you don't want to leave behind and the long road ahead."

Put like this, yeah, he's right, the price is justified. He's going to cash in some of his treasure for that, or maybe use the extra thousand he sidelined from Dutch from the bank robbery in Valentine. Along with some of the money he collected over time.

"Is there anything else, you need?" Trelawney asks.

"No. But, just so you know, you can come too." If Trelawney doesn't feel safe, if he wants to leave, Arthur will take him along as well. Even if he thinks that out of all of them, Trelawney is the one who knows how to survive any kind of madness. Or how to leave in time, as he did before in Beaver Hollow.

Something softens in Trelawney's expression. "I thank you, my dear boy. I'll think about it." He takes a step towards the post office. "Now, if you'll excuse me? I shall go and send a letter to inform my friends."

"It will reach them in time?"

"It certainly will. Money does rule at least part of the world, no matter how much some people don't wish to accept it. I will find a rider who takes my letter to them before the train leaves Blackwater, so they'll know to pick you up. Are you going to head back first?"

"Nah." Arthur waves him on. "I'll wait. Knowing you, you won't take long."

Trelawney tips his head with a smile and then leaves with swift steps. Arthur slowly walks towards where they have hitched up the horses, when he sees an old man he's encountered a couple of times before - what does he call himself, Cassidy or something. Arthur digs a few coins from his pocket and lets them clink audibly into the tin mug he holds out, standing at the side of the road. Cassidy tilts his head in his direction, eyes milky white.

"Do not underestimate danger when you feel safest." The man says, making Arthur pause from where he's about to move on. "You will find yourself having to make a choice."

"Err, sure." Arthur says and then decides to shrug it off. Cassidy has a tendency to talk about things that can sound rather generic. Besides, he already is worried enough with everything that awaits them if they don't manage to get away in time. There is no way for Arthur not to feel the bite of danger at his heels.

"You carry a strange air, sir." Cassidy continues and this time, Arthur freezes, before he turns back to the man. Cassidy has his head tilted sideways. "A strange duality." There is a moment of silence before the man makes an ushering motion. "Now, move on, I can't see more at the moment."

Arthur can't help but give him a weird look, while a cold, unsettled feeling ghosts around his shoulder and touches down his back. Alright. That was...shaking his head, he steps away, though his thoughts stay stuck on what Cassidy said. Looking up in hopes to distract himself, he sees a man, looking a bit harried but satisfied, who steps out of the house beside him.

"Thank you, you won't regret this. This land will flourish!" He says with a smile. He waves at the man - from the looks of it, the mayor of the town or someone else who's wealthier - as he walks backwards. Of course, his heel catches on a stone and Arthur manages to catch his arm before he ends up ungracefully on his back, fancy suit full of mud, the man barely managing to keep his grip on his thick leather bag.

"You alright there?" He asks as he pulls the man back upright.

"Oh, yes, thank you sir." The man exhales and pats down his front. "Kind of you, I would be the laughing stock of town if I had fallen. It's hard enough as it is, buying land from folk who don't like no outsiders."

"I wouldn't know." Arthur mumbles.

"Well, of course. I'm Tommy Albrecht." The man stretches out his hand and Arthur shakes it after a second.

"Arthur Morgan."

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Morgan. You aren't the owner of land and willing to sell it, perhaps?" Tommy looks vaguely hopeful, but not overly so, like he already knows the answer.

"Afraid not."

"Ah, a shame. I own quite a bit of land up in the west and I hoped to expand my business down here in the east. You don't, by chance, have any friends who...?" He trails off questioningly, head tilted

"No, but, you own land in the west?" Arthur has straightened slightly, even if he's quite skeptical at the same time. What would be the odds?

"Oh yes, are you looking to buy some?" Tommy certainly is an opportunist.

"Maybe." Arthur admits. "Looking to move west with some - with some folks."

"It's all taken care of now." Trelawney returns in this moment and then pauses, his face brightening with pleasant surprise and recognition. "Tommy, how very unexpected to see you. What brings you down here?"

"Looking to buy land from folk who don't want me here." Tommy answers, grinning wide and both men shake hands almost enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were here. Did you hear about that breakout of that outlaw a couple weeks back? Dreadful business, I just arrived here in Strawberry when the law started shooting and they ran. But it is so good to see you, you look well."

Oh. Weeks ago, that was when he broke Micah out. With a small start, Arthur realizes that Tommy most likely would have ended dead, if Micah had ended up shooting the town like the last time. Something about that thought settles strangely in his gut. Maybe it's seeing someone alive who would have been dead otherwise and knowing it.

"As do you." Trelawney seems to pause then and casts a quick side-glance to Arthur, something questioning in his eyes. Arthur catches on a moment later. His mouth suddenly turns dry and his heart skips an anxious beat. But...Trelawney is pretty much recommending this guy if he's already turning that questioning look at him and this, this might be a chance. He might actually be able to tell the others they have a place to go to. He could give them a home. This might finally be some luck coming their way, as hard to believe as it is. Arthur gives a cautious nod, suddenly feeling nervous. Trelawney turns back to Tommy. "Are you by chance still selling ranches and land in the far west?"

"Of course I do. But it's a bit of a slow business, most people want to live in a city nowadays and fewer are looking to move into the open country. Which is a shame, really, but I do earn my keep." Tommy definitely has caught on to what is going on. "Are you gentlemen looking to buy? It would be at a bit of a discount even, Trelawney, considering everything that happened you know where."

"Oh yes, I certainly remember. That is very kind of you, Tommy." Trelawney nods and then puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder to bring him back into the conversation. "My friend here is looking to move. There is some bad business with his father's side of the family, a bit of a feud with the locals you see and he wants to get his family elsewhere, so they no longer get involved."

Tommy nods like he entirely understands. "Yes, of course, of course, that is very sensible. I currently have some ranches for sale in different areas, most of them with water rights, some with a nice amount of woods and you have permission to build what you need if it's not already provided."

Tommy already opens his bag and pulls a ledger out. Flipping it open, there are some black and white pictures, with names, descriptions and numbers underneath. Good pictures too, obviously made by someone who knew what they were doing.

"Here, have a look. I actually only brought this along to show folks around here that I mean serious business, I never expected to find someone who wants to move away from here and so far west too." Tommy holds the ledger out. "People don't usually wish to buy without seeing the land first."

Arthur takes the ledger, wets his lips and slowly looks over the pictures. His heart has picked up a strangely anxious beat, a fast, clear drum against his ribs. He reads the descriptions of the land, the size, the buildings of the ranches. Two of the ranches are actually too small for them, the third he doesn't like the look of the land. Too rocky. But the fourth he pauses on. He looks at the three pictures, one of thick, decent sized forest that's part of the whole property, the other is of large grasslands with a nice, small river running through, water rights included in the price and the last picture is of the main farm house and a smaller house beside it, the shot made during what looks like a brilliant sunset.

"It looks rather good." Trelawney says quietly, taking a look as well when he notices Arthur stopping. His voice is reassuring and steady. "But, of course, don't feel pushed into a decision."

"How much?" Arthur asks and, pointing at the pictures, his voice going a bit rough. It has a decent amount of land, the surrounding area looks good, he can build what he needs on it, there are no regulations as long as he doesn't block off any of the two roads leading through parts of the property. And Arthur knows not to be stupid, not to be impulsive, but something about this feels just so damn right. A home. They need one when they leave these lands. He might actually have a home for everyone who comes with him.

Tommy takes a step closer, looking at the chosen land. "Oh, that one? Great choice, beautiful view, close enough to surrounding towns for good business too and nicely fertile land. The ranch house has four rooms, the living room not included, the other is a small, two room house. It's six hundred ninety five, paid upfront and with the discount, of course. And an additional fifteen dollars for fees."

They're going to have to build more housing on it of course, a barn, a stable, and Arthur has some very vague prices ghosting in his head from lists he saw in passing and conversations between ranchers he overheard. They could afford it. It's going to deplete his savings, especially once they buy some animals and furniture too, but...they'd have a home. A real home.

Trelawney takes a step closer. "If you are really sure about this, I can vouch for Tommy. He sells decent land, is true to his word and you get what you see, what is promised."

"How soon can you sell it?" Arthur asks, still feeling nervous about it and at the same time, like he makes the right decision. It rings somewhere in his gut and reaches all the way to his heart and the back of his head, the sensation that he should definitely do this.

Tommy looks immensely pleased at his answer. "Well, today, if you really are in a hurry. Though I would have to head to the room I rented and get the proper paperwork filled out before you can sign it."

"I'll go and get the money." Arthur says, handing him back the ledger, before he glances at Trelawney. "If you wait here?"

He'll go to the rotten cabin and get some of the money. He can pay this right now and he can tell the others that they have a home, a destination, when they come with him. No more running aimlessly, no more roving around the land. They'll settle down, they can build their own homes and get horses and cattle. It's scary, almost, suddenly having a future like that.

"Of course." Trelawney puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, like he knows how big this is for Arthur. For an intense moment, Arthur is deeply glad to have him here. He's never done anything like this. Has never owned land. It sets his heart racing with nerves, this sudden, large future that looms ahead. He's really glad he doesn't have to do this alone. "Go, Tommy and I shall take care of everything until you're back."