Arthur awoke much easier this time, as he opened his eyes to daylight. The same room is now fully aware to him, with dark green painted walls and rich dark wood furniture. A chest of drawers at his right holding up the machine whirring, still feeding him oxygen through a tube. However the mask on his face was not stuck down his throat. This was down his nose and he could feel it in the back of his throat. The first swallow sent a shiver down his spine, but he tried to relax through it. Thankful for the glass of water within arms reach, Arthur could lean forward and take a sip. Someone had already propped him up on pillows, so many comfortable pillows. It was like a cloud of fresh hay without the smell. Soft to the touch as splendorous fabric tickled his clammy skin. Laying on the bed, was a lump of soft fur that stretched and yawned as Arthur began to move. A cat with jet black fur had made itself comfortable next to Arthur's warmth. Now moving closer to investigate by sniffing his bare elbow crossed over his chest.
"Hello, Kitty." Arthur tried to say, yet his voice was rather raspy and elicited a cough spooking the cat off the bed instantly. There was an open door to a hallway the cat escaped to opposite the door to the patio. No one was there. Arthur took a deeper breath this time, wanting to push some energy into his body. Moving his legs, hurt unbelievably much. Why he really wished he was dead not to feel this excruciating pain. However, Arthur was no common man. He toughed through the initial numbness and stinging and pushed himself to sit more upright. There was a window he wanted to see out of, to get a view of where he might be. When he finally was able to glance out Arthur was met by the astonishing sight of the city on the horizon. The tallest building he has ever seen, some twice or three times that of those in Saint Denis. The house must have been on a hill for the view was breathtaking and far away from the core of the cities downtown.
Arthur was frozen staring at the city, it was a forest of buildings all which looks ugly and brown. The smell was in the air of smog and shit the same as Saint Denis, thankfully this far it wasn't nearly as wretched as being within the city limits. The mask over his face was rather helpful, yet it made him feel like a psychopath murdered being tested on.
"Good morning Mr. Morgan." A soft voice entered the room from the hall. The cat had returned with a friend, as they were laying in the arms of a butler dressed in a suit and tie. A clean shaven bald head and soft greenish blue eyes that stood out in the bright sunlight coming from the window.
"Ehrm… Mornin." Arthur replied and tapped his chest with a fist. Trying to beat the sickness out of him still.
"You are very weak sir, you should rest. My name is Roland. Mrs Bushman is busy and I have sent the other visitors away. I have been ordered by the lady to care for you while she is at work, I also have been informed by Dr Derulo that if you are to rise from the bed before you are able. To pin you down and cuff you if I have to." Roland said politely as Arthur stared at him rather stunned. Roland, was not like most guys. The bald head was distracting enough, but it really suited his delicate face. His effeminate features contracted the hard pressed suit, and he belonged in silks and gold like the grecian gods painted in the museum galleries.
"Are you saying I'm under arrest?" Arthur asked, he wanted to add on a quip. The perfect little smirk on his lip as he thought about it. Yet his voice was caught, it seemed like he spoke too much earlier and strained his vocal chords.
"I do not have the authority to do that sir, let alone the strength. I do, however, think it's a good idea not to get up. You can barely finish speaking a sentence." Roland commented calmly and stepped into the room and put the cat down as he walked up to the bed.
"Point…" One word was enough as Arthur conceded to nod his head in agreement.
"Is there something I can get for you? You must be hungry. I'm sure some runny mash potatoes would go down easily." Roland suggested taking the initiative to speak.
"Y-ya." Arthur nodded and perked up at the idea.
"Perhaps, some paper and a pencil if you wanted to write something down." Roland turned on the spot and looked behind him to the boudoir in the corner. With an arm tucked behind their back Roland crossed the room to fetch some stationary for Arthur to use, including a clipboard so he had something hard to write against.
Wordlessly Arthur accepted the offerings not long after Roland turned to leave the room. Arthur wanted to say thank you, yet they were gone as quickly as they came. Leaving him rather miffed about the whole situation. The whizzing of the machine plus the gentle breeze of oxygen on his face reminding him he was so close to nothing. The feel of the paper on his fingers reminding him how delicate the balance was between life and death. Invigorated, he grabbed the pencil and began drawing the city landscape without hesitation. Wherever his journal might be, it didn't matter. This was the start of something new, as he wondered what was left out there for him. Not long later, when the cityscape illustration was near completion, Arthur looked up to see Roland had returned with a tray of goodies for him.
"It's important to regain your strength, so take your time."Roland said and laid the tray into Arthur's lap. "My my." Roland smiled and looked upon the drawing. "That is very good sir, where did you learn to draw like this?" With genuine awe, the butler took the sheets from Arthur so he could eat and viewed the image with wonder in their large eyes.
"I just… trace what I see. I mostly draw critters and they move fast." Arthur said and looked upon the tray of treats. There was more then just potatoes, various soft foods like yogurt and chocolate pudding. Along with a mysterious puff of dough shaped in a soft squishy bubble. Arthur picking on up with his fingers and surprised at how hot it was with this delicate dough.
"Ah, you don't have to try the pork bun. It's a Chinese recipe." As Roland began to explain, however, as soon as he said pork. Arthur pulled the mask down and took a bite. It was easy to eat and melted into his mouth, however it was still dry to chew and Arthur needed water to get it down. It did not change the delight in his face at the unique flavor.
"Was it good?" Roland asked and sat down on the bed next to Arthur to continue viewing the drawing.
"Hmmmm." Arthur nodded and happily kept eating. Pain did not matter, he was hungry. The food was exceptional and he had never experienced such delicious food even with it all being mushy sick people grub. "Where are you going with that?" Arthur asked as Roland began to walk away with his drawing.
"Do you mind if I show this to someone?" Roland paused to ask.
"Sure, if you answer some of my questions." Arthur replied.
"I'm not sure how much I can tell you sir. The lady doth keep her secrets." Roland chuckled and walked back to Arthur to hand the drawing back. "I'm happy to answer what I can however." Roland said softly as their eyes softened. Arthur waved the drawing off, allowing Roland to hold onto it while he continued to eat a mouth full of chia seeds over coconut flakes. The surprising sweet taste of honey breaking down his guard as he really wanted to eat more. However his throat was starting to hurt. Roland held it closer to them, feeling rather special that Arthur would be so generous to a stranger.
"Who's house is this?" Arthur said after clearing his throat. Roland setting to drawing down for now as to not wrinkle it and turned back to Arthur and sat on the bed.
"This is one of the Bushman estate villa's on Hanlan's point. Across the lake is Toronto." Roland grinned as Arthur dropped his spoon.
"Wait… torano? Where is that? I thought this was New York?" Arthur turned to look out the window once again.
"Oh! No no Tor-on-to, we are not "that" far from New York if you take the train south. However, we are in Canada." Roland explained.
"So… this isn't America?" Arthur was rather stunned, what happened to everyone back home. Could he even get there on his own? How on earth did he get here? Roland could see the shock on his face, as Arthur's breath began to get caught in his throat.
"Easy there." Roland moved closer so he could rub a firm palm in between the outlaws shoulder blades which were stiff from slinging heavy weapons and hauling oversized loads. Roland's gentle touch soothing just distracted him enough from the aches in his chest. Arthur was able to catch his breath with the help of the oxygen tank easily this time . "Best not try and get excited then, I apologize for startling you." Roland said, genuinely apologetic.
"It's alright, I… I've never been this far north. How did I get here?" Arthur asked rather confusedly as he looked over the landscape once more. Those maple trees and tall oaks were not from lands he was familiar with.
"With great care on a train and a ferry then a carriage. No expense was spared in your escort. Mrs, Bush must be very fond of you." Roland sighed and returned Arthur to a rested upright position.
"Mrs!? Rose is married?" Arthur looked shocked once again, unpleasant memories of long lost love resurfacing as panic stilled his heart. "Mary…" Arthur wanted to jump up right then, yet Roland was already sitting in his lap to keep him down.
"There is a lot to explain, and I'm sure you have unfinished business back in New Austin, or wherever but you are not well." Roland scored Arthur as he fussed and wiggle him off. "I have to find Mary. I have to tell her…" Arthur was desperate and wanted to choke Roland and throw him off in rage. Yet he was too weak, and his soft arm was easily caught and pinned down.
"Then we will send a letter, while you rest. If you exert yourself too much. No antibiotic will save you, do you want to know how the doctor saved your life?" Roland asked him and he pointed to Arthur's chest.
Arthur looked down, the button up shirt he was wearing was freshly pressed and clean. Yet at the top button he noticed finally something was poking out stuck to his chest. Roland moved off him, as Arthur unbuttoned his shirt to expose what was underneath. Bandaged wrapped his chest and there were blood stains on the gauze running down a vertical strip in the Center of his chest. Arthur shuttered, what lunatic cut him open like an arts and crafts project.
"What in tarnation…" Arthur's voice was stuck in his throat, and Roland closed Arthurs shirt to keep him from looking.
"Best try not to think about it too much." Roland suggested.
"Easy for you to say I look like I'm about to be stuffed." Arthur clapped back.
"Dr Derulo did his best, so Dr Barette could save you." Roland said and buttoned up Arthur's shirt for him. The exhausted Cowboy was already tired and ready for another nap.
"So… I'm alive, in Canada because Rosalyn loves me or something?" Arthur asked bluntly. Before coughing after surviving so long. When he coughed, it was painful. Immediately flashing him back to one of the last traumatizing moments of his life.
"I don't know about the love part, but I think Dr Derulo has more to do with saving your life than she does." Roland tucked Arthur back in and took away the food so Arthur could relax. The sudden shock and pain in Arthur entire body startled Roland and he tried to keep the man still, which was difficult given his strength.
"Arthur, listen to me." Roland said softly, trying to remain calm like the lake under the sunlight at high noon. Arthur coughed violently as he struggled to remain still as he could suddenly feel the pain ripping across his body.
"What's happening to me…" Arthur whimpered in pain as he tried to remain still, yet the clarity was leaving him.
"Oh dear, your medication is wearing off." Roland said and held a towel from the side table to his forehead.
"Wha.. Medica…" Arthur began to garble his words.
"You need the ween off the morphine, my lord did you require a lot. I'm concerned, and so is Doctor Derulo." Roland said and contemplated on whether or not it was wise to give Arthur more.
"I don't want that shit!" Arthur said angry, and wondered why that needle was in his hand. Arthur immediately went to rip it out, yet Roland grabbed him. Which began the arm wrestle which Arthur would be ashamed for anyone to see. Roland was small! Slender arms and too feminine to be such a match for him as they successfully kept his hands steady. Roland was struggling, and that in that moment. Something finally clicked.
"You're a woman?" Arthur blurted out.
"Uh! For crying out loud! Would you stop trying to kill yourself for one minute and just lie there! Do you have any idea what it took to keep you alive! Illia was right, you are insufferable." Roland let loose and let go of Arthur and stood up. "I'm done, rip it out. Go for a run and fall the stairs for all I care." Roland's outburst made Arthur snap back to reality. The pain was horrid and made him act crazy, yet the memories of every gunshot wound, punch and stab were tearing him apart.
"Alright…" Arthur wheezed and took a shallow breath. "Please… help me." Arthur asked in his best and most polite tone.
"Oh, you filthy cowpoke. You're a schemer too. Our dear Rosalyn did not tell me enough about you before I let you under my roof." Roland turned back around in a flurry and returned to the desk they were investigating earlier. "I will say this once, I am not a woman. You will call me Roland and nothing else are we clear." Roland reminded Arthur as he returned to the bedside with a vile and needle. Arthur staring at the familiar device he once found in a Reverend Swanson's bible sitting around camp.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Arthur said as Roland administered a boost in the morphine. The way it conquered his body made him cringe, feeling the pressure through his bloodstream sending shivers of more pain across his body. Within seconds, the numbing sensation conquers him to the point of nearly falling asleep as his head went limp on the pillow.
"What happened to you? Tuberculosis causes bruising but you…" Roland began to question yet Arthur held his hand up to silence them.
"Please, I don't want to… get anyone… in trouble." Arthur said as he was killing between sleep and awake. Roland's words are getting difficult to understand. Everything about him was hard to understand. The way they looked down at him with delicate grace and concern. "Are you sure, yer not a lady. You're very pretty and don't have a…" Arthur was pretty out of it, and he weakly held a hand up to Roland's throat where they had no Adam's apple.
"Perhaps now is not the time for all these questions, you need to rest." Roland explained and heard a patter of footsteps through the house.
"Roland! How is Arthur doing!" The loud and familiar voice of Rosalyn could be heard through the house.
"Not this again." Arthur groaned, he did not yet know how to feel about Rosalyn. Especially hopped up on drugs that made everything seem soft and silky. Or perhaps that was Roland's skin since Arthur was still holding his shoulder for some reason.
"He's fine, just needs more rest." Roland said and stood up out of Arthur's touch. Yet gently laid the man's hand back down. Arthur was still staring, especially now he could see all the small details he missed with the daylight.
Rosalyn entered the room wearing a modest dress, covered in stains of berries and sugars like she came straight out of the kitchen. The body of the dress was perfectly clean as surely there was once an apron no longer part of the outfit.
"He's still awake." Rosalyn said with a sigh of relief as she smiled.
"Why did you lie to me?" Arthur blurted out, looking at Rosalyn like another sad dog abandoned by its owner.
"Oh, this is going to get personal." Roland quietly said and realized what he was in the middle of. The tensions rose in the room as Rosalyn flustered. When the clank of spurs creaked the hardwood floors as a stranger entered the room behind Rosalyn.
"It seems I have to interrupt your reunion. Good afternoon Mr. Morgan. I believe an introduction is in order." The stranger came into the room and stepped in front of Rosalyn. The lady looked distressed and the raven haired rancher went to comfort her. A burly man with a scarred face and pale splotchy skin. His smile was younger then his face as he approached the bed as Roland folded his hands behind his back.
"Lucien, please the poor man is barely alive. There is a high chance this cure is going to be a scam. It's a miracle he's alive based on the bruises but I wouldn't bet on it yet." Roland blurted out as Arthur choked on his breath. The medicine keeps the flashbacks of pain at back yet could still feel the pressure across his chest. Breaths were shallow as if they were constantly running.
"Nonsense Roland, look at me!" Lucien was bright and cheery and strut across the room the grab a few things. "Dr Derulo is a brilliant man, smarter than any European I know. Besides he's awake right now." Lucien spoke in an accent Arthur was not familar with. Harsh on the s and accented the z. His voice was deep and soft, almost singing to Rosalyn as she walked up and hugged him nervously.
"You saying you dragged me half way across the world to die…. I would rather go out under Micah's knife." Arthur wanted to spit out the window, however Lucien slapped him over the mouth to stop him.
"Disgusting habits like that are what made you sick in the first place Mr. Morgan." Lucien said in the affirmative, perhaps the roughness of his hands was from ranching, or holding a gun. It was hard to tell, yet Lucien stood with a proud chest and his back straight like a soldier on the March.
"Do he need some water?" Rosalyn piped in, rather overshadowed in the room. She seemed quieter then before and Lucien quickly turned to her voice.
"I'm fine." Arthur huffed, still unwilling to receive this special care. Throwing Lucien's hand away from his face as he went to wash his spit covered hand in the bowl at the nightstand.
"He has plenty, Mrs Rosalyn, why don't you go sit down for a while and I'll cook." Roland said and walked up to her with his elbow out to escort her.
"Roland, did you tell him you were the butler again?" Rosalyn asked in a plain tone. She was different, the audacious and bubbly personality was… hard to see now. The best way to describe her now was calm and tired as she moved slower yet her bright eyes still captivated any who dared gaze into them. Roland included as he began to chuckle nervously under her gaze.
"Of course! People are only honest with you when they think you are the help." Roland admitted. The conversation halted, when a loud smash was heard from another room in the house. Followed by an ear piercing scream which Rosalyn in response ran out of the room.
"Lily!" Rosalyn screamed back, turns out it wasn't a lady in distress screaming. Rather a child who soon melted down into tears and her sobs could be heard despite however many doors and walls were in between.
Roland soon followed but Lucien stayed in the room staring at Arthur like a bounty hunter. Arthur staring back at him defenceless and weak, perhaps better off dead then dealing with all this drama. However it wasn't a long standoff in silence. Not long later, footsteps were heard scuttling by as Rosalyn came in with a small child around in her arms. Wearing a fluffy pink dress with strawberries and flowers patterned in the bodice and a matching bonnet. Her face was red and puffy from crying, and once she saw the cowboys. She turned her head and started crying into Rosalyn's shoulder.
"She got spooked by the boogey man again, I can't deal with him right now." Rosalyn informed Lucien who nodded silently as Rosalyn left quickly with the screaming child. Arthur barely got a glimpse at the child's face, given their size she was younger than Jack. Possibly still a toddler with the way she cried. However, with all the fuss and frills and the blur of his condition. Arthur barely recognized what was happening around him. Lucien kept quiet, and stood up to cross the room to the piano in the corner. He removed the blanket keeping the dust away and sat down to the keys to play. A lullaby played on a piano unlike any he heard before, this piano did not clang and clunk through a song. No, it sang softly played by delicate fingers on an instrument crafted by the gods.
"You should sleep Arthur, despite your fears. You see the dark embrace of death hath come for you, yet guardians of fate have stepped in to change your path. You see, the devils in red heard of your sins. Yet angels of redemption wish to guide you still. Should you accept?" Lucien said alongside this music, speaking with gothic ire. Perhaps Arthur should have heeded the warnings of Reverend Swanson when it came to Morphius's Embrace.
"Accept what? What are you on about?" Arthur asked, still agitated that they intervened in his life.
"You're going back Arthur." Lucien was smiling as he played a faster tone.
"You had to know how it was going to go, Before you could try again." Lucien said and finished the last few note of the song as Arthur just shook his head.
"You're not making any sense." Arthur groaned as Lucien walked over to the bed and stood over him with an extended palm.
"You're going to feel nauseous. However, don't think so. Just do what is right." Lucien smiled gently and the room started to glow.
"What the hell!" Arthur's eyes widened in shock as the man's arm started to glow. These strange lines carved out in vibrant violet neon light through pagan markings that scratched up his skin.
Everything went white as the light burned his vision. Warmth replaced with cold as howling winds raged around him. Lying in the snow staring at Ambrino's Mountains.