I live! After five airports, one lost piece of luggage, quarantine with only my data plan to keep me connected to the outside world, and a COVID test where I had to stick the swab up my own nose because it's contactless? I finally have internet again! Also I got my luggage back thankfully.

I am almost done writing this story! I hoped to be completely done, but blame jet lag and Pokemon Shield for that. This chapter is a whirlwind, but I couldn't figure out how to break it into two chapters, so here we are. Enjoy the ride!

Chapter 27: A Fool's Game

Early the next morning, Javier showed up at their camp. And to everyone's surprise, he had Bill Williamson in tow.

"Bill! Where'd you find him?" Hosea asked.

"Van Horn. I ran there after…" Javier said, glancing at Arthur. "Is she?"

"Susan is dead. We buried her up there," Arthur said, voice tired and gruff from his night of drinking. His head pounded every moment, but it didn't change the determination still building inside him. He was going to kill Micah. And maybe, depending on what happened after, he would have to kill Dutch. Whether he wanted to or not.

Problem was, Arthur didn't want Dutch dead. Not truly.

Dutch helped raise him, taught him to read, made him feel like he had a purpose in a world that never seemed to want him. Because Dutch welcomed him and gave him a family.

So he worked hard, stayed loyal, earned his keep. It was enough for Arthur to have that family, a place to belong, a tent and a cot to sleep on at night and folks to spend the evening with sitting around a campfire. But that was never enough for Dutch. Dutch never stopped searching for more. More money, more jobs, that one last score that would never come. And Arthur was certainly angry at Dutch, though not enough to outright want him dead.

Arthur simply feared that Dutch would never leave him and the others alone.

"What did Dutch do, after we left?" he asked.

"I didn't stay for long. Told Dutch that Susan was loyal and that we don't shoot family. Then Micah started yelling, so I ran." Javier shook his head. "At least I found Bill before they did."

They didn't shoot family, but Dutch seemed quick to turn and call Susan a traitor. Just like he had done when he found Arthur in Valentine, minutes before Arthur got shot in Dutch's escape plan. Had Milton been right when he said Dutch shot him? Milton couldn't have known for sure, the man simply hoped the possibility would be enough to make Arthur spill the gang's secrets. But more and more evidence pointed towards Dutch putting down a betrayer.

"You alright, Bill?" Arthur asked.

"I looked everywhere for you fools. Asked everyone I knew. No one had a clue where you'd gone."

"I guess we did too good a job hiding," Hosea chuckled.

"Brown Jack is up with the other horses behind the cabin," Arthur said, and Bill jogged over to him. Brown Jack perked up immediately, his ears forward on Bill, and the giant Ardennes lumbered over to meet him.

"Thanks for taking care of him, Morgan," Bill said, taking a step back when the horse bumped him with his giant head.

"What's your plan now?"

"We're going to go west. I figure the two of us can sneak past any bounty hunters between here and New Austin," Javier explained.

Hosea briefly disappeared and returned with a stack of cash. "Here," he said, shoving half the money at Javier and the other half at Bill. Bill took it without question, but Javier hesitated.

"This is your share, isn't it?"

"That doesn't matter. I wish things had turned out different with the bank money, but it's done now. You and Bill deserve something to start a new life with. Besides, I got these fools looking out for me, I'll be fine!"

After a second, Javier also took the money. Abigail and John met them outside with some extra supplies for the road, and then Javier and Bill said their goodbyes.

Arthur was glad Javier was able to get out when he did. He wasn't sure what he would do if he had to stand against a friend at Beaver Hollow.

While the others continued chatting, he went back to cleaning his guns and loading his bag with ammunition.

He turned at the knock on the door. "Hey," Albert said, wringing his gloved hands. He wore his heavy coat, dyed green like his favorite vest, ready to spend a day outdoors. "Can we talk?"

"Sure."

"I thought I would go to the cliffs over the Dakota River, try to get pictures of golden eagles."

Arthur gave a short grunt to acknowledge it and kept checking his equipment.

"You could come with me, you know."

Silence.

Albert sighed. "Are you really going to kill that man?"

"You know what he did to Susan."

"And you think you can just walk into their camp and shoot him? That you aren't going to get shot, again?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Let them get away with it?" Arthur asked, voice rising to almost a shout as he threw down the rag of gun oil he had been cleaning his revolver with.

"Them? You mean to go after Dutch." Albert wasn't asking.

Arthur pondered his earlier dilemma. "If he gets in my way," he decided. "What do you want, Al?"

"I want…" Albert brought his hand up to his forehead, seemingly massaging away the ache forming behind his eyes. "I want you to come with me while I take pictures of eagles and call me a buffoon when I get too close to the edge like I'm just going to walk off and tell me that I have the wrong bait and just not have to worry about the Van der Linde gang!"

"And I'm supposed to do nothing about Micah?"

"Every time I think we've found a small corner of this world just for us, your gang comes along and destroys it. Valentine? The bank in Saint Denis?"

"Hey, that's not fair! I was protecting folk, protecting family. That was different."

"You're right, it is different this time. Now you are running off to kill someone! For what, revenge?" The last few words came out in a choke, and Arthur realized that Albert's hand was covering the beginning of tears.

"Al-"

"I feel like I'm losing you."

"What, no!" Arthur said, getting up, but Albert held out his hand to stop him.

"You didn't listen to me in Saint Denis, and yes, I know things worked out for the best, but I was up here alone and scared. I went to bed every night and couldn't sleep because I was imagining all the ways you could have been killed. Now you are running off again!"

Arthur tried to take a step forward. "You aren't losing me, Al."

"Well, maybe you're losing me," Al said, stepping away.

"Al-"

"Do whatever you want."

Arthur froze. He watched from the window as Albert walked towards Dakota and Lucy. Charles was waiting for him on Taima, a question on his lips, but Albert waved it off.

Continuing to watch out the window even as they disappeared from view, Arthur was torn. He wanted nothing more than to run out to Merlin and chase after them. But he also wanted a safe future for himself and Albert, for the Marstons, for Hosea. If Micah or Dutch came after anyone else in his family, he would never forgive himself. He grabbed his gun belt and went out the door.

Arthur whistled for Merlin, but the horse didn't appear. "Where'd you go?" he muttered under his breath before finally spotting the stallion over near Silver Dollar. "Hey, come here!"

Merlin stamped his hooves and pinned his ears. "None of that now," Arthur scolded, but the stallion still misbehaved. "I'll take Baylock," he threatened, and finally Merlin reluctantly stepped over, still wary for some reason. Could he sense the anger brewing inside Arthur? Did he know where they were going, what he meant to do?

He kicked Merlin into a gallop, the gait choppy compared to normally smooth ride. A voice drifted after him, possibly Hosea or John, but Arthur didn't stop. Instead, he urged Merlin faster, trying to outrun the shouts calling him back before he faltered from his path.

They didn't slow down until they were approaching Beaver Hollow. Arthur slid off Merlin, who danced a few feet away. With his trusty Cattleman drawn and hammer pulled back, Arthur crept towards the entrance of the cave. But the campsite seemed… wrong. Dutch's tent was half set up with The Count hitched next to it, but there were no other tents or horses. Perhaps they were in the caves. But while Arthur scanned the area for people, he missed the pair of eyes already watching him.

"So, you've come back," Dutch said in his slow drawl. Arthur swung the revolver around, but Dutch had no weapons in his hands. He eyed the gun, but stayed slouched in the chair half-tucked behind the canvas. "I wondered if you would."

"Where's Micah?" Arthur asked.

"You're not even here for me."

"Dutch…" Arthur said with a snarl.

"Micah's gone. Everyone is gone. Javier. Bill. All of you betrayed me." Dutch spoke nonchalantly. Gone were the passionate speeches powered by the raging inferno in Dutch's heart. Now he was cold, empty, indifferent.

But Arthur didn't come there to fix Dutch's feelings. "Where did Micah go?" he asked again, raising the Cattleman to aim directly between Dutch's eyes.

"I don't know. After what he did… he tried defending himself, but I realized that family, loyalty, didn't exist anymore. She's dead, isn't she? Miss Grimshaw?"

"Yeah… after what he did… like you didn't drag her into the middle of camp and call her a traitor."

"Is that what you're here for? Revenge? It's a fool's game, Arthur."

"You would know so well, wouldn't you? The way I see it, if Micah is dead, he can't hurt my family no more."

"And what about me, son?" Dutch stood, and despite his previous indifference, Arthur didn't miss the way his hands rested next to his Schofields. "Am I a danger to your family?" He took one step closer. "Who is your family nowadays? That photographer perhaps? What was his name? Albert, that's it."

Arthur tightened his grip on the Cattleman, his finger inching towards the trigger at Albert's name. But then he paused. He thought about Al, taking pictures all alone in the mountains because Arthur had to have his revenge. He thought about how Al admitted to being scared. And now here he was in front of Dutch, who was goading Arthur into a fight to cover just how lost and alone he was, too.

Breathing deep, Arthur relaxed his arm.

"You'd like Al," he said. "The man throws himself in front of hungry gators so folks can learn about them and not hunt them to extinction."

Dutch blinked once, twice, staring at the lowered revolver even as Arthur slid the hammer forward. "Is that what you were doing when you left? Helping him get photographs?"

"Mostly I stopped him from getting eaten," Arthur laughed.

Dutch let out a small chuckle, and his shoulders relaxed just a hair. "He did seem like he fit in better at the Mayor's party than he would in the outdoors."

"He's from New York, kind of grew up in society."

Dutch shook his head, and his smiler grew wider. And genuine, for the first time in who knew how long, like he was remembering a private joke from their past. "Who'd have thought? Arthur Morgan, hanging out with society," he said. "Is that what you wanted? When you left?"

A dark cloud returned over Dutch's face. Arthur sighed, "We changed, Dutch. The whole world is changing, I know, but the way we were going? It was wrong, and I didn't want a part of it."

"I see."

"I tried telling you, Dutch."

"But it wasn't just you, was it? You dragged everyone else away, even Hosea."

"I know." Hosea would never have suggested leaving the gang if Arthur hadn't done it first. He would have kept up his suggestions and quiet conversations, maybe would have gotten Uncle and Reverend and Mary-Beth to take off, but not many of the others. Certainly not John, not without the clear support of his brother. "It broke his heart to do it, Dutch. You have to know that."

With a huff, Dutch half turned away. Arthur waited to see if he would say anything, but he was interrupted by the sound of horses thundering down the trail. "What the hell?" he said.

"Van der Linde! This is Agent Milton of the Pinkerton Detective Agency!" Both Arthur and Dutch dropped down behind the tent canvas, a poor cover should the agents start shooting. "Come out! I know you're here, and it seems you are not alone."

Arthur looked around the area, but they were back against a wall. "There a way out through those caves?" he whispered to Dutch.

"Not sure. It gets twisted back there. We might be able to find better cover," Dutch said.

"But will we make it without them shooting us?"

"Van der Linde, come out!" Milton shouted again.

Dutch stood up. "Follow my lead," he said, and stepped out from behind the tent.

"Are you crazy?" Arthur whispered as loud as he dared, but then realized he didn't have a choice. He had to follow Dutch's plan, and hope it wasn't suicide.

"Ah, there you are," Milton said. "And Mr. Morgan! I didn't expect to find you here. Last I heard from you, you left the gang, did you not?"

Arthur's fingers itched to hold his gun again, but Dutch had walked out unarmed, as if he could talk his way out of an arrest. He had to wait, as much as it pained him to see the smug look on the face of the man who ordered his torture.

"And here I thought we would be finding only one man today," Milton continued. "Though perhaps Morgan can tell us where Matthews has gone. You two are hiding together, are you not?"

Arthur stiffened and stayed silent. Still, it was enough for Milton. "You are. You'll talk this time. And there will be no one to help you escape. We could never prove that you were helped, but I know you were." Milton turned back to Dutch. "As for you, Mr. Van der Linde, you'll hang in Saint Denis. Next to your old pal no less, Colm O'Driscoll. Should be quite the event."

Arthur and Dutch exchanged a quick glance. Word of Colm's arrest was news to both of them, and Arthur was glad for it. After what Colm did to Kieran, he deserved worse than a hanging. Hopefully Colm's death would bring Kieran some sense of safety. Providing he didn't escape the noose again.

"Mr. Milton," Dutch said coolly, "you arrived awfully fast for a government man."

"It seems that loyalty amongst your ranks is something you struggle with, Mr. Van der Linde. Mr. Morgan here is not the only lost soul to stray from your teachings. Mr. Bell took our offer quite eagerly."

Dutch's eyes widened. "Micah?" he asked, trying to mask surprise and failing.

"We picked him up after you boys returned from the Caribbean. Thought he had crossed us when we found Lakay empty, but then he crawled back with these letters." He held up two pages, and Arthur's blood turned cold. "One was rather short, just pointing us to an alias, but the other was quite touching." He held up Hosea's letter. "I love you, Dutch, but I cannot lose our sons to a dream that is no longer possible."

Arthur clenched his fists. How dare he read Hosea's words, how dare he mock them! He risked another glance at Dutch, and his former mentor's face was a swirl of rage and confusion. "And what did you offer Mr. Bell?" he asked.

"Immunity. A portion of your bounty. Whether we trust him to become an upstanding citizen after this? Well, we'll make that determination after he fulfills his end. Though he did say he would help us get Matthews and Morgan here. He seemed rather eager when we told him about that photographer friend of yours."

"What?" Arthur couldn't contain his shock and fear.

"Some of Cornwall's men spotted a man fitting Morgan's description and a photographer up at the Wapiti reservation. I knew there was something off about the man when I interviewed him in Valentine. He helped you escape, didn't he?"

Arthur snarled, "If you or Micah hurt him…"

"Mr. Bell's task is to find you. How he does so is… irrelevant. Besides, given the report from Cornwall's men, your friend should hang anyway for his certain… preferences."

Arthur went to move, but was stopped by Dutch's hand on his shoulder and the silent command to stay back. Dutch instead slowly, casually stepped towards Milton. "So, this is the great civilized world you preach. You would use this lawlessness you abhor to attack an innocent man and hold him as bait. Tell me, Agent, how does that make you any better than me?"

Milton opened his mouth to defend himself, but in a flash Dutch's hands dropped to his Schofields and drew them. Milton fell from his horse with two bullet holes in his chest before he could utter a word. "Shit!" Arthur shouted as the other agents began to open fire. He barely managed to draw his own revolver and begin firing as Dutch tugged his arm to lead him back to the caves. "You couldn't have warned me you were going to do that!"

"I thought it was obvious! You are losing your touch, Arthur." They moved deeper into the caves, winding through the dark tunnels. Dutch led the way, pausing occasionally to consider which path to take, all while the shouts of Pinkertons echoed after them.

"We can't see where we are going, much less what we will be shooting at!" Arthur complained as he squinted against the minimal torch light. Then, he noticed a faint light reflecting off the walls, and Arthur tried tracing it to its source. "There!" he said, pointing at a tiny gap in the cave ceiling with a ladder leading up to it. "We can get out!"

Arthur easily bounded over to the first ladder, but Dutch ambled on, often peering over his shoulder towards the oncoming Pinkertons. "Go on, son," he said, his breathing a little harsher than normal. Arthur didn't have time to argue, so he climbed up, pausing at each landing to make sure Dutch was following.

The shouts were getting closer, but Arthur and Dutch were higher up now. "You first," Arthur said to Dutch at the last ladder. The Pinkertons were just rounding the corner as Arthur leaped up the ladder to relative safety. They both whistled for their horses and took a moment to breathe.

"You good?" Arthur asked.

"I'm fine," he said, "but we need to move."

Merlin and The Count trotted up. "I'll take you back to the cabin I'm staying at," Arthur said. "Hosea is there."

"No, we need to go after Micah."

"We don't even know where Micah is! Besides, I need to warn Al!" Albert, who went somewhere over the Dakota River, who begged Arthur to go take pictures of eagles with him. The sun was starting to set, Albert would have to head back.

"Fine," Dutch said. They weaved through the trees as fast as they dared, constantly listening for other horses or shouts from Pinkerton agents. But soon they were in the clear, and Arthur led the way into the mountains and back to the cabin.

He saw Taima, Dakota, and Lucy outside, and breathed a sigh of relief. But then he noticed two horses he didn't recognize, and a foreboding feeling crept into his heart. "Al?" he asked when he pushed open the cabin door.

Everyone was crowded inside. Rains Fall and Hosea stood over a bed where Charles was resisting rest, though his eyes were half closed and his face was covered in sweat. Hosea looked up when he entered, and he gasped, "Dutch?" But Arthur ignored him as Charles noticed his arrival.

"Arthur… I'm sorry… I didn't see him."

"What happened? Where's Al?"

"We were stopping by the reservation on our way, but Micah was waiting. He shot me from behind. Grabbed Al." Charles clutched his arm, wrapped in bandages.

"He insisted on returning here, Mr. Morgan," Rains Fall said. Arthur then noticed Eagle Flies as well, bow out and checking for intruders out the window.

"Micah kept me alive and told me to deliver a message," Charles said. "He wants you and Hosea to meet him at Six Point Cabin. Alone."