AN: So, a new chapter, finally! I know I keep author's notes short nowadays, but hear me out here. I have been going back and redoing some of these chapters, as I started, in my opinion, really strong, but I began tapering off and now I'm working to get my mojo back. I've been on a writing binge lately and have about 2 full chapters almost ready for upload, they'll be spaced by a few days while I edit them.

Please enjoy and let all the constructive criticism you have at me, I welcome any chance to fix this story and make it better!

Caution, drug use.

Gimme Some Water

Let me die like a man, no one understands
Let me pray that a poor man pray
Smack that horse in the ass, with my last dying gasp
My brother could hear me say

Arthur had never really gotten into rolling his own cigarettes, but he had just run out, and Jamie had just come home from town with some rolling papers and some kind of new tobacco a friend of his introduced him to.

He had offered some to Arthur in a small brown bag, a potent scent unlike any tobacco he ever smelled emigrated from Jamie's palm.

"What is that?" Arthur asked.

"Miguel said it was similar to Tobacco."

Arthur grabbed the bag and opened the top, the strong earthy odor hitting his nose like a sucker punch. He would have taken a step back if he weren't sitting down. "This ain't tobacco, boy."

"Well, what is it then?"

"I dunno. You still gonna smoke it?"

"I think so, yeah. Never smoked before."

"Well bring those papers here, boy, I'll show you how to roll a cigarette."

Jamie sat down on the couch, watching intently as Arthur plucked a small green bulb from the brown bag.

"Boy, what- where did your friend even find this? I have no idea what this could even be related to."

"I don't know, he said he got it from Mexico."

"He tell you what it was called?" Arthur asked as he crumbled the bulb down onto the cigarette paper.

"He did."

"Well?"

"I can't remember. Started with a C. Oh, or an M. Maybe S?"

"Better not be poison."

"Nah, definitely didn't start with a P."

Arthur rolled his eyes and rolled the paper up into a tight cylinder. He licked the edge of the cigarette and passed it to Jamie.

"Okay, what do I do?"

"You smoke it."

"Yeah but, how?"

"Get your matchstick." Jamie grabbed one from the table in front of him. "Good, now strike it, light the cigarette, and inhale."

Jamie did as he was told, fumbling with the match after getting the cigarette lit, nearly catching his pants on fire before Arthur grabbed it and blew it out. Jamie inhaled, and immediately coughed it out.

"It burns!"

"It can't be that bad, it ain't even tobacco." Arthur grabbed the cigarette and took a deep breath, the urge to cough arising in him as well. A quick flash of nausea radiated in his chest, and he felt like he just got kicked in the face.

"I told you!"

"Boy, somebody lied to you." He leaned to the side, his shoulders suddenly feeling limp as a warm feeling tied them down, the feeling hitting without him even realizing it.

"Woah," Jamie's eyes widened, "I feel, crazy."

"What the hell you talking about boy?"

Jamie put out his hand in front of his face, every detail suddenly becoming mesmerizing. He turned to Arthur and asked, "No, really, you don't feel that?"

"Feel wha-" Arthur suddenly felt a calming fog encompassing his abdomen, spreading to the rest of his body like a wave on the beach.

"Oh. Damn." He mustered to say before settling back in the couch and looking up at the ceiling, exposed beams dancing before him, a deer skull on the wall taunting him with its beauty. Every minute that passed felt like an hour, time and all its anxieties had completely halted before him.

Jamie began to look concerned in his naivety. "Arthur, what is this…?"

Arthur, on the other hand, welcomed this feeling of calm and serenity with open arms. "It's like nothing I've ever known."

"I feel like I'm melting." Jamie panicked, looking at his hands. He slurred, "I don't like this feeling, Arthur."

"Here, maybe you need more."

"What?"

Arthur chuckled, barely containing his euphoria as he handed the cigarette back to Jamie, who took it in his fingers and put it to his lips once more, this time expecting the cough and holding it back better.

Arthur got up from the couch stumbled forward, his red eyes adjusting to an item of interest as he steadied himself. He reached out for a deer skull on the wall, picking it up and gazing at it in his hand, fascinated by the tiny details, imagining the deer's life from birth to death, examining the bullet hole and taking solace in the image of a quick death with little pain, the best way to go.

"Fuck, I'm thirsty as hell, boy." Arthur turned around to face Jamie. "Can you get me some water?"

Jamie nodded, his movements slow and his eyes glazed. He stumbled up, the cigarette loosely in his hand, and attempted to walk outside, being met by Mary as she walked in.

One look at Jamie's face and she could tell he was inebriated.

"Arthur, are you two drinking?" She plugged her nose at the pungent aroma that hung to the room like a warm blanket. "What is that smell?"

Arthur continued to hold the deer skull in his hand and gestured to the brown paper bag on the table, "Jamie's friend gave him some kind of funky tobacco. Wanna try?"

"I don't smoke. And what kind of tobacco sends two grown men stumbling around the house like infants?"

Arthur put the deer skull back and pointed to the bag again, saying, "That one, apparently."

Mary shook her head. "I have a friend coming by, can you please get cleaned up and take this mess elsewhere?"

"What kind of friend?"

Jamie piped up, "It's Samuel I bet, Mary's fake fiancé."

"Jamie!" She scolded, tapping him on the arm.

"Fake fiancé?" Arthur shook his head, "I thought you said you wanted me around now?"

"It's a lot more complicated then Jamie made it seem. I was going to tell you, but, I wanted to gauge where you were with Morgan before I did."

"So, he's a backup?" Arthur pointed to himself. "Or I'm the backup?"

"Neither of you are a backup." Mary turned to Jamie, who was stumbling towards the couch as he puffed on the cigarette again. "Jamie, stop smoking that stuff and go set the table."

The boy attempted to follow her orders, but he ended up faceplanting in the couch, his limbs going limp as the cigarette fell to the floor. Arthur walked over and picked it up, taking another puff as Mary rolled her eyes.

"Arthur, are you more able to handle your-" she gestured towards the cigarette, "-whatever that is?"

He nodded slightly, so slight it was unnoticeable.

"Arthur?"

"I said yes, woman."

"Then can you clean up this mess before-" she was interrupted once more by the sound of horses pulling a cart into the gravel outside the open door. She turned to see it, a beautiful carriage with a well-dressed man inside, he stepped out gracefully, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand as he closed the carriage door with the other, tripping over a rock as he turned to walk towards the house.

"He's already here, Arthur can you," she turned to find Arthur had disappeared, along with the mess of green tobacco.

She contemplated running along to find him, in order to ensure he didn't pop out randomly or eavesdrop on her and the man from the carriage, but Samuel was already just steps away from the door, Jamie was passed out on the couch, and…

"WaaaaAAAA!" Morgan had just awoke from his nap.

"My dearest Mary, I trust you're doing well?" Samuel invited himself in through the open door, hearing the baby crying and raising an eyebrow in the direction of the sound.

"It's a bit much today, but I can manage." He smiled and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, handing her the flowers.

"I'll go get the boy, you just do what you need, my love." He walked away, heels clicking, and opening the door to the hushing of a man, peeking over the bassinet, his grisly hand balancing him against the fixture.

Morgan was not pleased.

Samuel swallowed hard and piped up, "Hello there sir, Samuel Cohen, and you?"

"Arthur." He pursed his lips, hesitant to mention his last name.

"Ah, I believe I heard of you before, a friend of Mary's."

He nodded suspiciously, "Yeah, a friend. Close friends. Or, once was."

"Morgan is extremely fussy this time of day, may I?" Samuel walked over to the bassinet, gently moving past Arthur. The man's touch granted silence to the crying babe almost immediately, his little arms reaching out for the stranger.

Arthur's heart broke a bit as the man held the boy so effortlessly, rocking him back and forth in a motherly fashion. He didn't want to admit that the whole reason Morgan had begun crying in the first place was because he had tried, and failed, to pick him up for the first time, thinking it to be as simple as lifting a bag of flour one handed.

It was not.

"Mary usually feeds you around this time, doesn't she Morgy?"

"Morgy?" Arthur's brow furrowed.

"My nickname for the boy, he really is an angel. I'm planning to purchase a pet for him, a dog perhaps, most likely a dog. A Shepherd or maybe a Coonhound, a good strong dog to protect him."

"Well, don't he have a father to protect him?"

"Tragic thing really, Mary was engaged to a man, real wild card. Once she conceived, the fellow off and got himself killed. Tragic, truly tragic."

Arthur put a hand on his hip and nodded his head, the only thing keeping him cool being that one final drag off his cigarette earlier. "Really now?"

"Yes, yes. I met Mary not long after, her father had kicked her and her brother out of the home. There she was on the streets, pregnant, alone, her brother was looking for work. I own a hotel in town and let them stay a few nights free. When Mary discovered my own predicament with my family, she offered to marry me if I'd take the responsibility of father to her child."

"And what's your predicament?"

Samuel's eyes widened. "I really don't feel comfortable discussing that, but, let's just say my family would certainly see to it that I am punished for my… preferences."

"Let me guess. Sodomy."

Samuel hushed him and quickly held Morgan close to his chest. "Sir, please! You will curse this boy, he will be cursed to live as I have, with horrible, horrible desires!"

"I don't think saying something he don't even understand will hurt him. And what do you need your family for? Just don't tell em."

"It's far more complicated than that. I am an heir to a very great fortune. Not only will I face criminal charges, even if I were to escape that fate, I'd lose everything."

Arthur shrugged. "So? I spent all my years chasing money, stealin' it, killin' people for it. Money ain't worth it."

Samuel's mouth dropped, and Arthur realized that he possibly said more than he needed to. The man's face soon relaxed, and he sighed. "Surely Mary has a habit of keeping fools like us around. Bless her heart. It does take all types to make the world go round." He chuckled nervously. "You did only kill, the killers, and the robbers, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Killing is wrong on all fronts of course, but some men," he nodded, "some men deserve to be killed."

"I can surely agree with you there."

Mary knocked on the door, walking in and smiling at the scene before her. "Dinner is ready, if-" she paused when she saw Arthur's disappointed look, instantly knowing that he had found out everything she was keeping hidden, "-if you both are."

"Course we're ready, ain't we Sam?"

"Oh truly famished, and Morgan here is too."

"Huh?" Arthur responded, a habit of hearing his last name.

Mary walked forward and grabbed the child from Sam, the man proceeding to walk towards the door as he shouted out, "Jamie! I have a question for you, your friend Miguel, has he been around lately?"

Mary bounced her son against her breast, his whining making it evident that he was hungry. "I'm going to feed the little one then join you all, all the plates are ready, I'll only be a minute."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay here with you."

She smiled lovingly, but when he sat down and patted the bed, his eyes never breaking their stare, she returned to a feeling of embarrassment.

"He told you, didn't he?" She said as she took her seat next to him, unbuttoning her blouse as Arthur turned his head.

"Depends. He told me a lot. But if he told me everything, I'd say that's up to you."

"It was a bad situation, okay? He was my one way out."

"Well for one, I'm two different people in his mind. And one of those people is dead enough for him to swoop in and take my son."

"You were gone Arthur, I thought you were dead, everyone did. I wasn't going to go ghost hunting just so my baby could have a father."

"That's not why I'm upset, you doin' what you have to do to survive is one thing, but trying to get me back, trying to give me hope of us having a future together again, you should have told me this from the start, Mary."

"I'm sorry."

He nodded. "I know." He pulled her in for a hug, resting his head upon hers, looking down at his son as he suckled away, his tiny body contorted into the best milk drinking position.

"Just like his pa." Arthur snickered. Mary rolled her eyes at the comment.

"I really didn't think I'd ever be a mother."

"Me and you twenty years ago, we would have made beautiful babies if we did a little less fighting and more-"

"Alright mister, why don't you go get yourself a plate of food and leave us some privacy."

He got to his feet and obliged her, and teasingly replied, "Whatever you say, Mrs…?"

"Cohen, now."

"Right. He mentioned that earlier." He took a final breath at the door, thinking of something more to say, but coming up short. He walked away, down the hall, catching his eye on the photo of his child on the wall, a child who doesn't even realize he's his father.

Fun Fact: This chapter's original title was "Because I got High." I'm sure you can guess why.