See end for AN.

Redemption

Chapter 1: All Them Years:

A fist slammed into the side of Arthur's face, sending him tumbling down onto the rocks. He hissed in pain, struggling to lift himself up. His strength was nearly gone, but he needed to push through. Mocking laughter grated his ears, filling him with anger.

"You're getting weak, Black Lung!" a voice taunted him from above. The voice belonged to the source of Arthur's anger and pain. Micah Bell.

Arthur couldn't believe Dutch trusted that snake. All them years, Arthur devoted his life to Dutch and the gang. And he just tossed it away, all for Micah. He knew Micah couldn't be trusted as far as he could be thrown. He had only been with the gang for about eight months, but he'd caused them nothing but trouble the entire time. The massacre in Blackwater should have convinced Dutch that he couldn't be trusted, but instead, he jumped to his defense. And it would not be the first time. Everywhere the gang went, trouble was always right behind them. Mostly thanks to Micah.

After the gang had escaped Blackwater through the Grizzlies, the gang tried to settle down in Horseshoe Overlook to lay low for a while. While there, Micah ran off to get drunk in town called Strawberry and wound up getting in fight the locals and killing one of them, getting himself arrested in the process. And of course, Dutch made Aurthur break him out of jail, only to have him kill half the town afterwards. For his goddamn guns.

Then there was the nonsense in Rhodes that got Sean killed, and some 'peace deal' with the O'Driscoll's that nearly got Arthur killed. And not to mention, Dutch didn't even seem to care. Things only seemed to get worse after that. While not all of it was Micah's fault, his presence certainly didn't help. Arthur knew that snake was hissing in Dutch's ear, making him take unnecessary risks, all for sake of his 'plan'. The final nail in that coffin was the failed bank heist in Saint Denis, that resulted in not only in John's arrest, but in Hosea's Death.

Without Hosea to keep Dutch in line, he became more and more unhinged. The signs were already there when he murdered Angelo Bronte, but Hosea managed to get him somewhat back on track. But without him, the only man Dutch would listen to was his sycophant, Micah. And of course, that didn't go well. That snake made Dutch even more dangerous, irrational. After their escape from both Saint Denis and Guarma, the gang tried to lay low in the swamps outside of Saint Denis, only to get ambushed by the Pinkertons upon they reunion, forcing them to flee.

The gang then set up in the woods behind Annesberg, where they tried to lay low, but of course, that snake Micah ruined everything. He convinced Dutch to murder Cornwall, bringing the gang even more unnecessary attention. Then he told to him leave John in prison, forcing Arthur and Sadie to bust him out. Dutch scolded them for this, saying it wasn't part of 'the plan.' Then he got Dutch and the gang mixed in with a war between the army and the Native Americans. Aurthur was almost captured during an attack on an oil field, all because he left him behind. This was the final act that completely shattered Arthur's faith in Dutch. He knew Dutch could no longer be trusted, and that he needed to try and save the remaining members of the gang before Dutch got them killed.

Things finally came to an end after the robbery of a train carrying payroll for the army. John was shot during the robbery, with Dutch later claiming he was killed. Abagail was captured by the Pinkertons while the gang was away, and Dutch refused to save her. Once again, Arthur and Sadie teamed up and rescued Abagail, but not before Pinkerton Agent Milton told them Micah had be giving him information on the gang. After killing him, they fled the town, stopping a few miles outside of camp. Aurthur sent Sadie away with Abagail and John's son Jack, saving them from Dutch.

Arthur returned to camp and confronted Micah over his betrayal. That snake, of course, denied any wrongdoing, saying it was all a lie. John stumbled to camp shortly after, yelling at Dutch for leaving him behind. At that, Arthur told the gang to pick sides, saying they were through, chastising Dutch for tossing him and John aside for Micah. Even now, he couldn't understand why. All them years, Arthur gave so much of himself to Dutch, and he just- A boot to his ribs pulled him from his thoughts.

"You still with me, cowpoke?" Micah asked mockingly.

That further enraged Arthur. Ignoring the pain, he quickly climbed to his feet and charged Micah. He tried to block the attack but was a bit too slow. Arthur slammed into his chest and forced him to the ground, punching him in the nose, blood spraying from his nostrils. Before he could get another hit, Micah sent his knee into his back, knocking him off. Micah stood up and casually brushed himself off while Aurthur struggled to his feet. Once he stood, he turned and faced him, the smirk on his face enraging him even more than he already was.

"You rat!" he snarled as he charged Micah a second time.

"I ain't no rat!" he shouted in reply, meeting his charge.

Their bodies collided and they tumbled to the ground, trying to land as many hits as they could. Still in a grapple, Micah forced them both to their feet. Arthur slid his arm free and delivered a right hook to his cheek, sending him back to the ground.

"You weak fool," Arthur said panting, "Can't even kill a dying man."

"Oh, you think so, huh, Black Lung?" Micah sneered, struggling to stand.

Before he could recover, Arthur charged him a third time, punching him in the jaw. Arthur moved in for another hit, but Micah rolled onto his back and kicked him in the chest. Aurthur stumbled and fell onto the ground. Aurthur noticed one of Micah's revolvers had fallen from its holster and was laying nearby. Arthur turned onto his stomach and crawled to it, the last of his energy starting to fade. It was getting harder to breathe, he needed to finish this.

Just as Arthur reached the gun, Micah grabbed him by his vest, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the cliff. He wrapped his hands around his neck and squeezed. Arthur struggled to break free from his grasp, Micah tightening his grip in response. Arthur freed his arm from his grasp, striking Micah in the face with his revolver, sending them both to the ground, the gun flying several feet away. Arthur wheezed, his vision fading. He slowly turned over and began crawling to the gun.

"Oh, Black Lung," Micah taunted as he stood to his feet, "You ain't gonna reach that gun. You ain't. You lost my sick friend. You lost."

"In the end, Micah," Arthur said with a wheeze, "Despite my best efforts to the contrary, turns out I've won." He continued weakly crawling towards the revolver. He could hear Micah's boots as he stumbled behind him.

"Goddamn you," he wheezed again as he reached the gun. He weakly extended his hand. The moment he touched it, a boot stomped onto his fingers, pressing them and the gun into the dirt. Arthur cried out in pain.

"It is over now, Arthur," a familiar voice said, "It's over." Arthur raised his head and saw Dutch standing over him.

"Oh, Dutch," he groaned, "He's a rat. You know it, I know it." At those words, a look of sadness and shame appeared on Dutch's face.

"He's sick," Micah countered, "He's dying. He's...talking crazy."

"There!" a voice called out from below, "Up there on the ridge!" It appeared the Pinkertons had found them. Dutch turned his head toward the voice, looking unsure of what to do.

"I gave you all I had," Arthur said, getting his attention, "I did."

"I..," Dutch began, taking a step back, "I..."

"Come on!" Micah said, clearly annoyed with him, "Dutch, let's go buddy." Dutch stared blankly at him, not moving an inch.

"We made it," Micah continued, motioning for Dutch to come with him, "We won. Come on."

"John made it," Arthur groaned out, "He's the only one. The rest of us..." A wheezing cough interrupted his speech. Dutch took a couple steps toward him.

"The rest us, no," Arthur continued after catching his breath, "But...I tried...in the end...I did."

"Come on," Micah said again, this time sounding desperate, "Let's go. We can make it." Dutch backed away from him, then turned and walked away.

"Come on, Dutch!" Micah said, "COME ON!" Dutch ignored him and continued walking.

"Argh!" Micah snarled in anger before he wheeled around and stormed down the mountain.

Arthur stared at the sky, feeling his life slip away. He then felt a warmth on his left side, and he turned his head toward it. The sun was beginning to rise, casting its glow across the land. Arthur watched the sun for a moment, breathing out his last breath, the light consuming his vision. He then felt a cool breeze flow over his body.

"That's odd," he muttered. The hadn't been any wind before. He sat up, his strength returning. He then noticed his breathing had improved.

"What is this?" he asked himself. He looked around, seeing the ground beneath him was a bright white, the sky a bright gold. Could this be heaven? He slowly stood to his feet, looking around for anyone or anything.

"Hello?" he called out, waiting for a response. When none came, he started to get a little nervous.

"Where the hell is anyone?" he mumbled, "Can't be the only one here."

"Right you are, my child," A voice said from behind him. Arthur spun around, his hands balled into fists. However, no one was there.

"Hello?" he asked, looking around, "Who's there?" Arthur got an uneasy feeling, for he seemed to be the only one in the void. And the fact he didn't recognize the voice. He heard the voice again from behind him moments later.

"Over here," it said. Arthur turned around and saw a bright gold mass. The mass was about half his height, and its shape was vaguely humanoid.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Forgive me," the voice replied, "My name is Oogway."

"Oogway?" Arthur questioned.

"Yes," Oogway replied.

"That's an interesting name," Arthur said.

"Indeed, it is," Oogway said happily.

"Uh...okay," Arthur said uneasily, "Well, I'm Arthur Morgan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morgan," Oogway said.

"Nice to meet you, too," Arthur said, "So, where am I?"

"The spirit world," Oogway replied, "All souls come here, especially ones that are lost."

"Lost?" Aurthur questioned.

"Yes, Mr. Morgan," Oogway replied, "I sense something in you. Two sides fighting with each other. And you're not sure which one you should be." Arthur sighed, turning his gaze to the ground.

"I've been told that before," he said, "Someone... that I knew, said there was a good man in me, but he was fightin' a giant." Oogway chuckled.

"Indeed," he said, "But I sense you tried. You did some things to try and right the wrongs you committed."

"Yeah, I tried," Arthur said. Oogway moved closer to him.

"I know of men who cared not for their actions or the people they harmed," he said, "But I also know of men who tried to change their ways, only to die before they had a chance. Such souls roam forever in pain, always wishing they could have done more." Arthur lifted his gaze to Oogway, staring where his face would be.

"Is that last one me?" he asked.

"Right now, yes," Oogway replied, "But I can help you."

"How?" Arthur asked, "Can you send me back?"

"Not to your world," Oogway replied, "I fear that would only send you down the dark path once again."

"Yup," Arthur agreed, "Would probably spend the rest of my days hunting Micah. And Dutch."

"I take it those are the ones responsible for your pain?" Oogway questioned.

"Not all of it," Arther replied, "But they were at the end, though."

"And if you truly seek redemption, you can't go back to your world," Oogway said, "However, I do know a place that could use a man like you." That got Arthur's attention.

"And where would that be?" he asked.

"My world," Oogway replied.

"Your world?" Arthur asked, sounding confused.

"Yes, my world," Oogway replied, "It's quite different from yours, but I know you'll adapt."

"Alright," Arthur said, "That sounds fine."

"I have faith in you, Mr. Morgan. I know you'll make me proud," Oogway said happily. Arthur cast his gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling uneasy.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked

"What do you mean?" Oogway asked in reply.

"I mean, why help me?" Arthur replied, "I've done alotta terrible things in my life."

"I know," Oogway said.

"Yeah, so why?" Arthur asked again, "I mean, I died 'cause I got TB. Got from beatin' a man to death for a few bucks."

"You did," Oogway said, "But you regret your actions. You're ashamed of who you were, and you fought for redemption, all the way till your death." Arthur reached up and wiped away a few tears from his eyes.

"I did," he said in a shaky voice.

"Yes," Oogway said softly, "That's why I'm doing this. I want you to have another chance." Aurthur looked up at Oogway.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome, Mr. Morgan," Oogway replied, "Now, make me proud."

"I'll do my best," Arthur said.

"I know you will," Oogway said. Arthur smiled before glancing around, waiting for something to happen.

"So, uh, now what?" he asked.

"Look down," Oogway replied.

Arthur looked down at the ground. Not seeing anything, he was about question Oogway when suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath him. Arthur flailed his arms as he fell, angerly cursing Oogway. After of few moments of falling, he could see what looked like mountains below him.

"Oh shit!" he shouted. He held his arms out in front of him in a feeble attempt to break his fall. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for impact. Before he hit the ground, a loud voice echoed across the void:

"Wake up, Mr. Morgan!"

He snapped awoke with a loud gasp, his chest heaving. He sat up, his eyes darting left to right. He found himself inside a large cave, its ceiling at least twenty feet above him. Icicles hung from it and light snow was plied on the floor. Arthur stumbled his feet, taking another glance around the cave. To his left was the entrance, snowflakes flurrying by, propelled by the wind.

"What the hell? Where did Oogway send me?" he asked himself.

He remembered Oogway saying he would send him to his world, but unless said world was a frozen wasteland, Arthur didn't have an idea where he was. He took a more extensive look at the cave, trying to find something that would give him a sign. Not seeing anything of note, he looked down at himself. He was surprised to see he was wearing the same outfit he wore while in the Grizzlies all those months ago.

"What?" he muttered.

He wasn't dressed like this when he died, so why was he wearing this now? Was it all just a dream? He shook his head and looked down at the cave floor. Next to his boot, he saw his hat and his satchel, the very ones he gave to John before he left. Aurthur slowly bent down and picked up his hat, his mind replaying the moment he sent John away:

Bullets flew past John and Arthur as they ran through the trees. They could hear the Pinkertons closing in, following them up the mountain. They were stuck on foot since the Pinkertons killed their horses. Arthur and John fired their Cattleman's as they ran, only a few of their rounds finding their mark. They both crouched behind a felled tree, trying to reload their revolvers as quickly as possible.

"Arthur, we need to keep moving!" John shouted over the gunfire, "Try and lose them in the trees!"

He and Arthur continued running up the mountain, dodging bullets as they went. Arthur lagged behind, his lungs burning, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He and John stumbled up the cliff face, hoping to gain the high ground over the Pinkertons. They turned and fired at them any chance they got, trying to slow them down.

Arthur stumbled, extending a hand to brace himself against a large boulder. It was getting harder for him to breathe; he knew he didn't have much time left. He took a moment to recover before he and John continued up the mountain. They ran up the side of a cliff, reaching the top. Before they had a chance to rest, a large group of Pinkertons appeared behind them.

They dove behind some rocks for cover, firing their Cattlemans. They killed several of them before the Pinkertons retreated back down the mountain. Arthur and John moved further up the cliff, hoping to lose them. Arthur holstered his Cattleman and gasped for air, placing his hands on his knees, violently coughing as he did. John stopped nearby, urging him to keep moving.

"Come, let's go!" he said.

"No," Arthur said weakly, "You go."

"Keep pushing, Arthur," John said.

"No," Arthur began, a coughing fit interrupting him. He spat blood from mouth, wiping it away with his hand. "Nope, I think I pushed all I can," he said.

"Come on," John said.

"You go," Arthur said again.

"We ain't got time for this," John said, "Not now." Arthur reached up and removed his hat.

"We ain't both gonna make it," he said softly, "Go, now. I'll hold them off." John just stood motionless. Arthur placed his hat on his head, then placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It would mean a lot to me," he said, "Please." He took off his satchel and shoved it into John's arms.

"There ain't no more time for talk," he continued, drawing his revolver, "Go."

"Arthur," John said, trying to reason with him.

"Go to your family!" Arthur said, urging him to leave.

"Aurthur!" John said again, hoping he'd listen.

"Get the hell outta here and be a goddamn man!" Aurthur yelled.

"You're my brother, Arthur," John said, sounding defeated.

"I know," Arthur replied.

The satchel now felt heavy in his hands. John was the closest thing Aurthur had to a real brother. With his satchel here, he wondered if John made it to Abigail and Jack, or if the Pinkertons caught him again. Or worse, Dutch found him. That thought sent chills up Aurthur's spine.

"John!" Arthur called out, his voice echoing off the walls of the cave, "John Marsten!"

His eyes scanned the cave, looking for any signs that someone else had been there. Seeing nothing, he set his satchel down and placed his hat on his head. He then walked out of the cave, the wind blowing lightly around him. He freezing air sent chills through him despite his jacket. It wasn't as cold as The Grizzlies, but it was still cold enough to make him uncomfortable. He looked around, seeing the snowcapped mountains in the distance. Snowflakes fell from the dull gray clouds that blanketed the sky.

"John!" Arthur shouted out again. He listened for response, hearing nothing but the wind. Aurthur let out a sigh.

'Maybe he got eaten by a wolf,' he thought.

He remembered when John had been scouting in The Grizzlies and had almost gotten himself killed and eaten by a pack of wolves. Arthur almost chuckled to himself at the memory. He and the others never let him live that down. He scanned the ground, looking for footprints. A few feet away, he spotted something half buried in the snow. He walked up to the snow pile and knelt down, quickly unburying the object. It was a Colt New Service revolver, something he hadn't expected to find out here. He turned the revolver over several times in his hands, taking in its features.

The finish on the gun was faded and the frame was covered in small scratches. The grips had a dull pink skull on them. The barrel had the words 'Vengeance is Hereby Mine' scratched into it. Arthur felt his temper rise when he recognized the weapon; it was one of Micah's revolvers. Arthur narrowed his eyes, feeling his blood begin to boil.

"All them years, Dutch," he said coldly, his grip tightening around the gun, "For that snake!"

He stormed to the edge of the cliff and threw his arm back, ready to hurl the revolver down the mountain, his chest heaving with anger. Arthur stood motionless for a few moments, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. He lowered his arm, staring at the guns in his hand. He sighed in defeat and opened the cylinder, finding it loaded with six .45 Long Colt cartridges. Arthur closed the cylinder and shoved the gun into his satchel. He pulled out his Cattleman and checked the cylinder. Finding it fully loaded as well, he put it back in his holster.

Arthur took a deep breath, then took a long look at his surroundings. The wind had died down a bit, making the cold less intense. There were mountains in every direction, their tops covered in snow. There wasn't a single sign of civilization anywhere. He groaned in frustration.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he asked himself.

Before he could ponder his next move, a sharp crack echoed through the mountains. Arthur quickly dove behind a nearby rock, drawing his Cattleman as he went. He slowly peeked over the rock, staring in the direction of the sound. He watched the area for a minute before a colorful explosion appeared in the sky.

"Fireworks?" he questioned.

That was definitely not something he was expecting to see all the way out here. But at least it meant there was civilization nearby. He thumbed the hammer of his Cattleman back down and re-holstered it. He walked back into the cave and grabbed his satchel, slipping the strap over his shoulder. Once it was secure, he left the cave and began his trek down the mountain.

He walked for what felt like hours before he came upon a dirt road. The road seemed to stretch from miles in either direction, large patches of bamboo growing on either side of it. Arthur looked back towards the mountain, trying to gauge which direction he saw the fireworks from. Before he could get too deep in thought, he heard the sound of a wagon. He turned to his right, seeing a fork in the road he hadn't noticed earlier. The road was mostly blocked by bamboo, so he couldn't see who was coming. So, he stayed where he was and waited, his hand near his Cattleman in case there was trouble.

A moment later, the wagon came into view, and Arthur's mind ground to a halt. Pulling the wagon was a pig, one wearing clothes, and walking on two legs. The pig abruptly stopped the wagon when he spotted Arthur, staring at him with wide eyes. The wooden handle he was holding dropped to the ground with a hollow thud.

"Hey Yao, why'd you stop?" a voice asked from behind the bamboo.

A rabbit stepped into view seconds later. Like the pig, now identified as Yao, the rabbit stared at Arthur with wide eyes. Aurthur's eyes shifted between them, unsure what to say or do. Finally, he decided to pass a friendly greeting.

"Howdy," he said with a small wave.

"Uh...hi," Yao said awkwardly.

"So... where y'all headed?" Arthur asked.

"Um..." Yao began, looking unsure if he should answer.

"We're heading to the Valley of Peace," the rabbit replied.

"Valley of Peace, huh?" Arthur questioned.

"Yeah," Yao replied, sparing a glance to the rabbit, "The Valley is hosting its annual winter festival tomorrow, and we're delivering some supplies for it."

"Alright, uh..." Arthur began, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Hey, mister?" the rabbit asked, getting his attention.

"Yeah?" Arthur said.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you?" the rabbit questioned, "I've haven't seen your kind before."

"Yeah, I'm uh...not from around here," Arthur answered awkwardly.

"Oh," the rabbit said, "Um...so where were you headed, then?"

"I'm not sure myself," Arthur replied, "I just arrived."

"Okay, well, um...would you like to come with us?" Yao asked, "The Valley of Peace is the only civilization for miles."

"Sure, I'll go," Arthur replied, "Don't really have anywhere else to go."

"Okay, uh, well I guess, follow us then," Yao said, picking up the handle to the wagon.

The rabbit moved behind the wagon and began to push, helping Yao move it down the path. Arthur walked alongside them, looking over the landscape as they went. The bamboo cleared up after a few minutes, revealing flat fields and towering mountains in the distance. A light wind blew across the fields, the blades of grass bending slightly as the air flowed across them. The land seemed so peaceful. Arthur took a deep breathe, letting the clean air fill his lungs. Maybe he really did have a second chance. A new world, new people. Well, maybe not people. He told Dutch before he passed, he tried to do good. Maybe this time, he could finally be a good man.

Author's Note: Finally! After seven months and two rewrites, chapter one is finally done. I apologize if this isn't as strong as my other works, but I had trouble getting this chapter written. When I first started writing this, I didn't really know how I wanted it to go, but I did find some inspiration and was finally able to get this chapter complete. After quite a bit of editing, of course. Like with Hell Freezes Over and YCKMH, this story will update slowly. Chapter 5 of MHWA is complete and is in proof reading/editing. The chapter is the longest so far at over 11 thousand words. I'll try to get it uploaded by the end of the month. In the meantime, please enjoy the chapter. Constructive criticism welcome.