A/N: Sam be like: "You can't catch me, gay thoughts!"

"Sometimes, that which you fear, is not something you should run from, but embrace."

"She's here for your bounty. Come to Momma, boy."

There was a camp set up in the swamps. It was over by Siltwater Strand. Black boots crushed the leaves and greenery beneath Rose's feet. She was armed and ready, but not ready to see the man with a woman and child. Still, she looked her bounty, Mark Johnson, dead in the eye.

"Don't shoot," said the man. "I'm unarmed." He stepped away from the pair and walked towards the armed woman. "We knew you was coming. I got something to ask… I'm a changed man, okay?"

That didn't change anything, unfortunately. Rose hated these types of bounties.

"Let me say my farewells, I'll come away peaceable," said Johnson.

The redhead sighed, and nodded her head.

"You're a forgiving woman," said the man. He walked back towards his family. "Boy. Boy, come here. Listen."

Mark's son came up to him and he whispered something in the kid's ear. Rose huffed and rolled her eyes. Obviously, this had to be some kind of plan or trick or something.

"Exactly as I say," said Mark, "you hear?"

"Don't… don't leave us, Pop," the boy said.

The man said nothing else to the kid and walked towards Rose. "I ain't gonna fight you in front of my family."

Rose nodded, before throwing him to the floor and tying him up. The kid flinched forward, wanting to do something, but the woman who was his mother held him back. With that, Rose whistled for her horse and dragged the man to it.

"Don't look away, boy. Remember this moment," Mark said. "You're the man, now. Now be a man, boy."

"I love you, Daddy," the kid said.

"Enough with that. Just remember what I said, boy."

His wife began to sob as Rose hoisted him onto the back of her horse.

"It's just us now, son," said the mother. "It's just us. Daddy did a bad thing. And there ain't no such thing as forgiveness. Not in this world."

Rose tried not to look at the distraught family. She got on her horse and rode away. Once she was out of the swamps, she made her way towards Rhodes. Her captive didn't say much on the ride to town. It was quiet. Well, it was, until she rode under a train overpass and she heard a thud. Rose was quick, turning her horse around and going after Mark Johnson who managed to shake out of his binds. She lassoed him again, knocking him off his feet, while she dismounted her horse.

"I don't want to hang," he said.

Rose was having none of it and flipped him onto his stomach to retie his hands and ankles. This time she made sure the ropes were tighter this time. The man groaned at how tight she was making them, practically cutting the circulation on his limbs.

CLICK!

"Let him go back to his family, girl," a voice said from behind her.

Rose slowly rose up from her tied up victim, and turned to see a pair of men behind her with guns out.

"There she is!" said the other man. "Like the boy said."

All Rose did was glare, her hands up, so they could see she wasn't going to shoot.

"What? Not gonna say nothing?" said the first man.

The girl just huffed, but did not move her mouth.

"What?" said the other. "Cat got your tongue?"

"No, but this bullet's got your head!" said a voice.

A shot rang out and the first man who approached Rose was shot through the head, like the voice said. Another shot rang out and got the other man.

"No!" Mark yelled.

Lily and Sadie soon came out from hiding out of the sides of the overpass.

"You alright?" said Lily.

Rose nodded, but raised a brow in confusion.

"Brandon said something about you going after a bounty, and sent us to check on you," said Sadie. "Good thing we did, huh?"

The silent girl nodded, and let Sadie and Lily get Mark Johnson back onto her horse. She was grateful, although a bit perturbed that Brandon needed eyes on her when he was busy like she was still a child.

Johnson didn't say a word the rest of the way to Rhodes. They got to the police station and getting Mark Johnson into a cell went without a hitch.

"You can only run so long, son," said the deputy. "There's your cell… you're lucky it's not a grave."

"I was out in the bayou, wasn't hurting no one," said Mark.

"And what about those fellers that was out trying to shoot the young lady here?" Sadie said, gesturing to Rose.

"Go to hell."

Sadie laughed. "Well, you're going there first."

For their help, Rose was willing to split the bounty money. While the deputy was processing their money, Lily took a walk out of the station and down the main road. She wasn't really sure where she was going, she just wanted some time to relax.

Somehow, her feet took her to the church grounds, which also served as a cemetary. She wasn't sure why she was here. She wasn't very religious, and she didn't know anyone who was buried here.

She actually had no idea what brought her here. It was quiet. There were people paying their respects, both going into the church to pray or leaving flowers and praying by the graves of their fallen friends, family or loved ones.

The young lady stopped in her tracks for a moment, feeling a chill in the air. She walked into the church, to find it almost empty. The last of the people were leaving for the night, but she still saw a man there. That strange man with the top hat. And no, it wasn't Trelawny.

Lily walked up the aisle and eventually locked eyes with the man.

"It's you," she said.

"Well, Lily!" the man almost exclaimed. "Fancy meeting you here. You seem much better these days."

Lily stepped back appalled. "Where the heck do you know me from? If you're not a patient of my uncle's then how… do you know me?"

"You're famous, Lily," said the man. "You're shooting O'Driscolls, helping to scare them away from innocent folks. Very different from the young lady who used to struggle to even hold a rifle."

"Uh…" How did this man know that? "It's more of my cousin," said Lily. "He's the one leading the charge."

"And he's lucky to have you. If only he knew that more than he realized."

"What does that mean?" said Lily.

The man didn't answer. They just stayed in relative silence. They could hear the sounds of people talking, the birds, and the cicadas outside. Soon enough, Lily sat down in a pew across from the individual, like she was waiting for a response. And she was. She was armed, and he wasn't. How the hell does this man know who she is?!

"...Do you ever wonder why you're here?" he then asked, after a long silence.

"Huh?" said Lily. "Like, the purpose of our existence? Like, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is God really a thing."

"I can see why you'd say that," the man answered. "I mean why are you here?"

Lily was just more confused. "Huh?"

"You're doing more good, and well, bad, as well, but good things, too," said the man. "You and Sam? You're saving lives. Saving people you don't even know have been saved. But, tell Sam to watch himself. Because with everything he's doing, good or not…" He stood, before speaking more, "there's always a price to pay. A sacrifice."

"S-Sacrifice?" said Lily.

The man patted Lily on the shoulder before making his exit. "Just let him know to be careful. I'd tell him myself, but… it's just not time for that yet."

Lily just watched him go. One of her hands tightly gripped the frame of the pew she sat on. The other was on her holster.

"For your sake, I hope you never meet him!" she hissed.

She waited a while before getting up and leaving herself to check up on Sadie and Rose. They should get back soon, anyway. It was getting late, and it looked like a storm was approaching.

Knowing how Sam was with storms, she hoped he would be okay with the business he was helping Arthur with. It had been a few days, but surely, they were fine.

Thud!

Arthur awoke from a dream he had, his eyes snapping open, and finding himself staring at the roof with a cold sweat. It took a minute or so for him to catch his breath, before running his hands through his sweat-soaked hair.

It had been a while since he had those dreams. Arthur could only chalk it up to the stormy weather and the frantic few days he had. Speaking of which, he looked around for the source of the noise he heard upon waking up and found Sam had taken a tumble off the bed, curling up on the floor and covering his ears as the blanket he'd been wrapped in fell messily around him. His pocket watch, which he had been tightly clutching, fell right next to him.

Arthur sighed and stood, walking over to Sam. He held his injured friend still, when he flinched from the outlaw's touch.

"Hey, it's just me," he said. Still in a panic, Sam tried again to struggle away, but Arthur bundled him back into his blanket and laid him down on the bed, his struggling still weak and sluggish. "Easy…" he said. The outlaw held him down until Sam's muscles gave in from exhaustion, and he stopped trying to escape. He grabbed Sam's pocket watch and placed it back in his hands. Then he grabbed the washcloth that had been dropped, dipped it in the pail of water he left nearby and placed it back on Sam's head, who whined softly at the touch.

"I know it ain't pleasant," Arthur spoke, sympathetically. He felt his face, feeling that Sam was still warm, and frowned a bit. At least it was much better than the burning inferno he was the day before yesterday. He made to get up to go back to his bedroll on the floor, but found that Sam was holding his arm with a death grip. The young man's frame was still shaking, even more so as another round of thunder made itself known. Arthur sighed and covered Sam's ears from the next clap of thunder, all while Sam hid his face from the flashing lightning showing through the windows in Arthur's shirt.

The outlaw looked at Sam, softly being reminded of when he was younger and John had similar fears that needed Arthur to look after him. There was Jack, but he had Abigail. And there was also… Arthur swallowed down the urge to think of those memories.

Sam settled down, but wouldn't let go. Feverish, injured or sleepy, the young man never failed to show how much he would grab onto people for comfort. Arthur just resigned himself to his fate and laid down on the bed, dragging Sam down with him. Besides, it would be better if Sam slept without the wound on his back having pressure applied to it. He still had stitches.

The outlaw sighed, with one arm wrapped around Sam to anchor him in place. He let his fingers trace over Sam's blanketed back and his hand rested where the wound was bandaged. The muscles there twitched, but Sam didn't flinch.

"You're okay, kid," he said. Sam eventually stopped shaking and Arthur was relieved when he finally heard a soft snore. His hands still gripped Arthur's shirt like a security blanket, but the pressure on him from Sam's weight was soothing the lingering fear from his nightmare.

He closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

The next morning had thin rays of sunlight shining through the windows and the slightly parted curtains. It was still cloudy, but occasionally spotty enough that the light was able to shine through.

Arthur awoke to the songbirds outside. He was still on his back with Sam nearly on top of him. His head was on his shoulder, with an arm splayed across his chest. Even so, he was limp, undisturbed by any movement the outlaw made. Arthur smiled and snaked an arm around Sam's back to feel his forehead. He was relieved to feel that Sam's skin was much cooler than last night.

Sam mumbled, when Arthur tried to remove himself from his grip, but otherwise, he didn't wake. He was careful, laying Sam onto the bed, while he stood. Sam's head fell against the pillow Arthur had been using and his shirtless form curled up some more on the bed. Arthur adjusted the blanket and tucked Sam in. After some stretching, the outlaw thought it would be good to get some food for himself, and try his hand at getting Sam to eat. So, he quickly got dressed.

Arthur, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was quite worried about Sam, and barely left his side for a moment, but now that his fever had broken, it was probably okay to slip out to the store and get some more food. He hadn't brought much on himself, and Sam hadn't either, as they both thought this trip would be short.

Arthur wore his hat and kept his head down. He was in Strawberry, after all, the town Micah shot up after he helped him escape from jail. It looked like the town had recovered, but there was still some debris from all the destruction, and there was still a huge hole in the wall of the sheriff's office, so it looked like no one was using the cell and it was going to be unused for a while.

"You're just in time," the shopkeeper said, as he was bringing out some of the canned food and fresh fruit Arthur ordered. "We've just reopened and I've got some fresh goods."

Arthur nodded, putting his money on the counter. "Well, that's mighty kind of you," he said, keeping his voice low, as he got everything into his bag.

"Shame about what happened at the sheriff's office."

"Does that explain the huge hole in the wall?" Arthur said, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know the whole thing," said the shopkeeper, "but some idiot busted their buddy out of jail. Shot up most of the town. I heard the shots and was hiding for most of it."

"Bad business," said Arthur.

Once Arthur was done, he headed out of the store, and nearly tripped over a dog that was running around. It noticed the man and looked up at him, wagging its tail. The outlaw grinned and reached out his hand, gently. The dog was excited and was eager for attention.

"Aw, c'mere!" Arthur said. He knelt down and patted the dog, gently.

"Here, girl!" said a voice. "Here, girl!" A young man rounded the corner and saw the pair. "Oh, there you are."

The dog barked and ran over to the young man. "Aw, you found her, mister!" he exclaimed, as Arthur stood.

"She's yours, huh?"

"Yeah," the young man said. He laughed as the hound jumped onto her hind legs to lick his face. "Aw, don't worry me like that again, girl! Thank-you, mister. She's the only family I've got left."

Arthur shrugged. "Aw, well. I was just in the right place at the right time."

The outlaw watched the boy leave with his dog. He then saw the house he headed towards. It was on the edge of town.

Where Micah…

"Skinny, get out here!"

Rain was pouring down that day, when Arthur broke that man out of jail. Micah had walked up to that house and banged on the door, harshly.

"Skinny!"

The door swung open and a man stepped out.

"It ain't 'Skinny', Micah, it's Norman…"

And then Micah shot the man in the gut. He fell over, groaning, and Micah just left him there to bleed out, stepping over him.

"You always was a letdown, you fat sack of crap," he said. "Excuse me a minute, Arthur…" He went inside and shut the door behind him. It was quiet, but Arthur heard Micah walking around in the house. He wondered what the hell was going through his mind, breaking into a house while they were supposed to be leaving the town.

And then he heard a woman.

"Hello, Maddy…" Micah said from within the house, "did you miss me?"

There was a scream, followed by a gunshot. Arthur swallowed hard, but waited for Micah to come out. All he wanted was to leave before more law showed up. The street was littered with bodies of the law and civilians who had been brave enough to take up arms.

Finally, Micah came out, covered in blood.

"They had something of mine…" he said, unphased by what he'd done. There were two revolvers in his hands, "my guns. I showed him…" With that, he ran past Arthur, "and I'll show the rest of this town!"

Arthur hadn't realized he had been standing there staring until he was nearly trampled by a carriage. He got out of the way. Readjusting his hat, he made his way back to Sam.

Sam awoke, his mouth strangely dry. He was somehow still horrendously tired, for someone who had been spending the past few days bundled up in blankets, sleeping. He was alone, which had him reaching around for his gun belt, but it wasn't on him. Also, he still didn't have a shirt on and his boots had been taken off, placed neatly on the side of his bed and his hat was sitting on the nightstand. At least his pocket watch was still with him. He ran one of his thumbs over the engraving. The young man winced from moving his right arm too much, a pain on the back of his shoulder made itself known. It hurt, but it no longer felt unbearable. It was dulled down significantly.

He found himself lying on a two person bed, bundled up in a red blanket. The walls and floors he found himself inside of were made of wooden logs. Sam could hear the birds outside, and saw the sun shining through the windows. He could also make the outlines of cedar trees, so something told him he had to still be in West Elizabeth. At least, that's what he hoped. He blinked slowly. He hadn't moved from where he was laying down. Where was he? Why was he alone? He vaguely remembered the cougar and Arthur stitching him up, but the rest was a blur. His mind was still foggy, so he could only guess there was still some kind of medicine in his system.

Sam tried to not let his heart race, but it had been a while since he'd been alone in a foriegn place, even if he had been to West Elizabeth before. He turned his head into the pillow. What would he do if someone came in, while he was this injured and woozy? He couldn't find his guns.

The young man ran his fingers over his wounded shoulder, and he could vaguely feel the stitches underneath the bandages. That's right. That darn cougar had its claws in him, but… he escaped.

Sam realized that Arthur had been laying in the bed. The pillows smelled just like him. They smelled of gunpowder, trees, and tobacco. He sighed, but relaxed for just this moment, wishing he could just hide in the blankets forever, not having to think about his actions, his mind, or his own damned heart, when it came to…

"Sam?"

Oh god dammit… Sam thought. His fingers curled, gripping the pillow he had hidden his face in.

Sam heard the door open and close. Maybe he was just delirious and this was another dream. Like, for a little while, he could dream he was home, with his family.

"U-Uncle Cliff?" Sam muttered, softly. His own voice surprised him at how weak and hoarse it sounded.

"No, it's me, Arthur."

Sam groaned, weakly. Nope. He was definitely awake. He turned his head away from the pillow and saw the outlaw's tall figure walking in, before closing the door behind him. Arthur looked okay, but his hair was messy, there were slight bags under his eyes and his beard had grown a bit.

"You awake, Hawkeson?" he said. He started getting out the food he got from the store and placing them on top of the dresser.

Sam tried to sit up, his shoulder protesting, so he just stayed on his side, a hand on the pillow he was resting on. "Wh… What happened?"

"Cougar got you," said Arthur. Sam nodded, remembering that part.

Sam's head relaxed against the pillow as he knew Arthur would ease his confusion. "Right. The debtor."

Arthur sighed. He wished he wouldn't bring that up, but Sam seemed too weak to chide him over what happened to Winton.

"You was out with a fever. Doctor said you'd be okay, once it broke, but to keep an eye on those stitches. There was too many people at the hotel, but I found the welcome center had a vacancy and they let us stay, as long as I didn't get any blood on the furniture. It's been about three or four days."

"Sorry…" Sam mumbled.

"It's alright," said Arthur. "You feeling okay, now?"

"Hopefully," the rookie outlaw said. Sluggish as he felt, he tried to move his legs, making them dangle off the bed, as one of his bare feet touched the wooden floorboards. With one hand on his wounded shoulder, he tried to get up, but then Arthur was raising his voice.

"Hey, you get back in that bed, Hawkeson!" said Arthur.

"I can't just sit here," Sam said, struggling to sit up. His dry throat made him cough. "The camp's gonna worry."

Arthur walked over to stop Sam from getting up. He was still coughing, but Arthur handed him his canteen and Sam drank from it greedily. "You've got stitches, Sam," he hissed. "You'll rip them open if you push yourself." Sam didn't realize how thirsty he was until the water was in his mouth. "Go easy on that. There's plenty there, just… take your time."

"Sorry…" Sam said, seeing that he finished the rest of the water. He tried to stand, but Arthur simply put his hand on his unwounded shoulder and forced him to sit back down.

"Then can you stop trying to leave?" said Arthur. He took the empty flask back from him.

"But Lily-"

"She'll be fine." Arthur got up and set the empty flask on the table.

"I'm fine, Arthur…" Sam insisted.

"Is that why you sound so weak?" Arthur said, his brows furrowing at Sam's stubbornness.

"Who's sort of the doctor here?"

"You're lying, so you can walk outta here."

"Why do you care?" said Sam. "Didn't give a shit about Winton. Ain't the Pinkertons out and about out here in West Elizabeth?"

"Would you shut up?!" said Arthur. "You ain't going anywhere. Now lay down!"

"But Arthur-"

"What?!"

The two looked at each other, with Sam's frame still shaking from weakness and exhaustion of his body fighting off a fever.

"I really need to piss."

Arthur kicked the chamberpot to him. "I'll wait outside."

***...

Sam usually wasn't as stubborn when it came to being the injured one. So, Arthur wondered what was up with him. Well, it wasn't as if he needed an answer to that. He saw what kind of man he really was back there, he said so himself in that carriage, and Sam paid the price for it.

There was a communal fire outside near a table where some of the men in town hung out playing knife games, so Arthur used it momentarily to cook up some food with the stuff he bought from the store. He brought it back into the welcome center and up to Sam's room.

Sam was glad for the food, he took the stew of mixed meat and random veggies and dug in. He didn't put much in the bowl, and there was a lot of broth. Sam may have been doing better, but he should still eat lightly for the time being. The young man said his small thank-yous, but other than that, the two wouldn't talk that much, despite how much Sam had clung to him during those fever ridden nights. Maybe he didn't remember.

Sam put up a fuss, when Arthur tried to take away the book he was reading. He had finished eating, but was falling asleep trying to get through the book Lenny lent him.

"I got it," he said. "Let me finish."

"You need to rest, Sam," Arthur chided.

"You call this rest?" said Sam. "I call it a grown man telling another grown ass man…" He paused for a moment to yawn, "what to do."

"So yawning ain't a sign of being tired?"

"Nope, but it's contagious."

"Contagious?" said Arthur. Sam snickered when Arthur yawned next.

"Did you have to make me take more medicine?' said Sam.

"Unless you want to spend the night in pain, you're better off with it in your system," Arthur said, flatly. He took the book while Sam was distracted with their chat and walked back to the desk he was sitting at to write in his journal.

"I need to get back to work soon," said Sam. "I've spent too long sleeping."

"Will you stop thinking about killing for two seconds while you're awake, Hawkeson?" Arthur turned around in the chair he was in and looked Sam in the eye. "You rip off those stitches pushing yourself, you could die."

Sam sighed and laid back on the bed, making sure he was gentle and laid on his side to not disturb his wound. Arthur wouldn't let him leave. Truly, he really could use the rest and relaxation, but he couldn't handle him… There was that thing he'd been struggling with since that night after he helped Beau and Penelope with their little Romeo & Juliet situation. Hell, it was probably a thorn in his thoughts long before that.

Now Sam was injured, and stuck with the man that was causing such discomfort with his thoughts. They were thoughts that made his mind race with more, his heart was racing when Arthur would have to touch him to clean his wounds and change the bandages, while he prayed he did not see how he blushed. What would he think if he saw that?

It was times like these that made Sam wonder why his uncle would raise such a problematic child like he was?

Sam tried not to think about that, but… not only did Cliff raise him… he died protecting someone like him.

And he still thought it was strange. Arthur flat out said what kind of man he was, and he was right. He was a killer, a thief, and an outlaw. And he was right. He really could have just killed him that night when he stole the money from their camp all that time ago, but he didn't.

So why, despite all that, was Sam still thinking about him… in the way he was? Even when he was in that cave with the cougar, he…

Well, there was no use thinking about that now… He let the medicine work its magic and fell asleep.

Arthur's breath was heavy.

He wasn't sure why. The horse he was on was the one doing the running. Still, his breaths were as frantic as his heart. The sky was pitch black, and the rain was pounding down. He had to get there! He just had to!

Sweat was racing down his face, despite the cold chill and his clothes were getting drenched from the rain. His thick, calloused hands, having been through many experiences, were shaky and trembling. Still, he looked forwards into the pitch blackness in front of him, the path only illuminated slightly with his lantern. He felt bad for pushing his horse so much, but he had to get there. It was now or never!

Suddenly, his steed tripped over something and Arthur was sent tumbling to the muddy ground with a loud cry. He couldn't wait for his horse to recover. Ignoring the pain of his bruised and battered body, the outlaw stood, scrambling back onto his feet and grabbed his lantern.

Finally, in the distance, he could see it: A lone house on a hill, not too far from town. His steps slowed, his lantern lowering at what he saw and he fell to his knees. His jaw dropped down slowly in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. He can't.

The house sat empty, but outside of the property were two graves.

There was a flash of lightning.

Arthur was pulled back into the waking world, with a firm grip on his shoulder and a voice calling for him. He gasped, throwing his arms out and then heard a thud.

The older man blinked a few times. He was still in Strawberry's welcome center, staying in the guest room and laying on a bed roll. It was the middle of the night, and the rain had returned, but there was no thunder and lightning this time.

"Uh… You okay?" said a voice.

Arthur sat up and saw Sam who had fallen on his bottom, flinching away from Arthur's violent reaction. He was holding a hand on the side of his face. The outlaw slowly realized he may have accidentally hit him.

"Shit!" Arthur hissed. "You okay?"

Sam slowly took his hand away from his cheek.

"It's fine," he grunted. "It didn't even hurt that much. I woke up, and it sounded like you was having a nightmare."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, it's… nothing."

Sam tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure?"

The outlaw nodded, but his slightly shaken frame said otherwise. With that, he stood up to help Sam back onto his feet. "Let's go. You need to rest."

Hands on the younger man's shoulders, being gentler on the wounded one, Arthur helped Sam up and nudged him towards the bed. Sam sat on the bed, but waited a moment before laying down. He looked at Arthur, who was waiting for Sam to just do as he said. His heart raced, he didn't know why he cared, but he did. Arthur was a bad man, but he did good things… and also bad things.

But… god dammit. Sam wasn't sure if it was the medicine, his weakened state, or his stupid feelings over the fact that Arthur looked after his foolish self, but Arthur was human. And, like a human, he does get scared, even if he can look a cougar in the eyes and pump it full of lead without flinching. He had when they were trapped in that cave. He heard the way his voice was, and again when he thought he was bleeding out. Arthur was a bad man, but… Sam wasn't any better. And he just had to be the one who was still more concerned about him, than thinking about whatever nightmare he just had.

Was it really okay to just… give in?

"You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know," Sam said, swinging his feet onto the bed.

"I'm fine," said Arthur.

"It's a two person bed." Sam's eyes kept darting away, but he tried to stop it and maintain eye contact with Arthur. "It'd be a shame to let it go to waste. I already cuddled you enough when I was loopy, anyway."

Arthur rubbed the back of his head. So, Sam did remember that?

Sam laid down remembering to stay on his side. As much as he wouldn't admit it, Arthur did appreciate the company after just having another nightmare. He sat his tired self on the edge of the bed and laid down, Sam making a small pout that the outlaw could still lay on his back.

Then it was quiet. They were laying down together, but it was the first time they were doing so sober. Sam just tried not to blush and closed his eyes.

And then Arthur spoke.

"So, what happened with you and Winton?" he then said. "You two were together, weren't you?'

Sam opened his eyes. "Yeah. We heard a noise, and the next thing I knew, the beast was on him. By the time I turned around, he…" Sam balled up his hands. "He was already dead. So, I ran."

Arthur could see that. He found Sam's footprints not long after, if his memory was still correct. But if that was the case…

"You… dropped… this…"

Arthur remembered Sam holding his hat. But, if he remembered where he dropped it…

"Then why didn't you leave?" said Arthur.

"Huh?"

"You ran past the exit. And it was daytime. You couldn't have missed it."

Sam's hand gripped the comforter beneath him.

"Sam?"

The young man huffed into his pillow, but he faced Arthur again. It's not like he was going anywhere.

"I was looking for you…" he mumbled.

"What?"

"Then, I found your hat, and I thought… for a moment, that something happened to you, too. I saw the cougar heading to where your voice was and… I…" He stopped.

Arthur just stared. He swallowed. "You what?" Slowly, he started to put together what happened. "Wait, you-"

"I thought I could shoot it and draw it away from you before it attacked, but it was so dark, I missed. And, well…"

"Why the hell would you do that?" Arthur asked.

Sam huffed. Did Arthur really not see what was obvious? Sam shut his eyes, knowing that he was blushing. Despite that, he didn't turn his head away, and his next words were gentle, but sincere.

"I was just… protecting you."

Arthur sat up. "What?"

Sam didn't move. He stayed where he was, eyes unable to look up at him. He knew Sam wasn't lying.

He was… protecting me? Arthur thought. Why? Could it have been what happened in that cornfield?

"He's mine!"

"He's no one's! Let him go!"

"Let me take him…"

"No…"

"You get outta here."

"No! That's my friend!"

"I didn't want to just run or stand there," said Sam, "while… something happened to you. So… yeah." He ran his fingers over his wounded shoulder. "It ain't your fault, Arthur. It's mine. I… I know you think you ain't worth much, but… you mean something to me."

Arthur sighed. He laid back down and stared at the roof above him. "Then you're just an idiot, I guess." Despite his words, he patted Sam on the arm.

Sam sighed, as well. One day he'd get Arthur to accept a damn compliment. But for now… he'd play his game. He opened his mouth and just repeated Charles' words.

"I know…" Sam said, softly, his eyes closing as they adhered to his body's need for sleep. "I'm a fool. I… I can't say that I understand you…" He yawned, eyes sliding shut again. Since he was falling asleep, he didn't see Arthur staring at him while he spoke, "but I hope to… someday."

Sam was asleep before too long, but like before, he was grabbing onto his arm again in his sleeping state. For now, Arthur allowed it. If Sam rolled onto his back, he could irritate his wounded shoulder.

It had been a while since Arthur had fallen asleep with someone by his side. It was a bit odd, but comforting for someone who just had a nightmare. Still, he was tired after looking after Sam all day. He could be a brat, but his heart was in the right place.

He pulled the blanket over both of them and drifted off. The rain and the warmth of Sam's body lulled him to sleep.

The sun was out the next morning. Arthur woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep, with Sam still curled up next to him. With an arm around him, he patted Sam, being careful not to jostle his wound, until he stirred.

"What?" he mumbled, voice still riddled with sleep.

"It's morning," said Arthur.

"That's nice…" Sam mumbled. Otherwise, he didn't move. It was odd that now he was so up for resting instead of trying to be up and about.

"How you feeling?"

"Sore… but… better than yesterday."

Arthur nodded. "Alright. That's good. Think you can ride today?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Wait here. I'll get some food, and then we can get ready to head back."

The young man whined softly, as Arthur shuffled out of bed, leaving Sam's grasp. Sam turned his head into the pillow and curled up on the bed to just get a few more minutes of shuteye, while Arthur changed out of his union suit. He headed out to heat up some of the leftover food from last night. Good thing the fire outside was still burning.

Eventually, Sam did get up, being slow as he sat up, his hair messier than usual. A fresh new blue collared shirt had been folded up and set aside on the foot of the bed for him. The shirts were quite common, so he wasn't surprised to see that Arthur had found one in the shop.

Arthur came back to give Sam food, but then slipped back out to check on the horses. Apparently, they had been staying in the town's stable, while they had their impromptu stop in Strawberry.

Sam was almost done with his breakfast, when he heard voices outside.

"Really, mister?" It sounded like a child's voice.

The rookie outlaw held his shoulder and stood up slowly, happy that his feet were stable enough to keep him standing and wandered towards the balcony. He hadn't put on his replacement shirt yet, so he decided to just stay in the doorway to decrease his chances of anyone seeing him.

Down on the ground level, Arthur was handing the reins of a horse to a young boy, whose mother was standing next to him.

"Just promise me you'll take good care of her," said Arthur.

The boy nodded excitedly. "I will, mister."

Sam slowly realized that the horse belonged to Winton Holmes. Well, it wasn't like he needed her anymore, and that kid looked really happy.

"Aw, thank-you, sir," the boy's mother said. "His father will be very happy. He's been thinking about teaching him to ride for some time."

Arthur tipped his hat. "No problem, ma'am.'

Sam smiled. He ducked back into the room, without Arthur knowing he was watching.

Four days. Well, including today, that made five. God, Sam knew he stunk. He went downstairs briefly, and the owner knew about Sam's predicament. So, he wasn't surprised to see him walking into the lobby without a shirt and bandages looped across his torso and let him pay for a bath.

Clothes on the floor, and bandages tossed aside, Sam was glad to let his sore body sink into the warm water. As much as he preferred to clean himself, it was kind of hard to move his right arm a lot without tugging at the stitches, so when one of the bath girls offered to help, he accepted. She saw the stitches and decided to just rinse it with water before continuing.

As much as Sam preferred to wash himself, it was nice having someone else run their fingers through his hair, cleaning his arms and legs, and all he had to do was lean back and relax.

He knew it was just them being friendly and it was custom, but Sam always felt awkward when the bath girls were finished and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"Okay, feel better soon," the woman said, kindly. She handed him a towel and saw herself out.

Sam got himself out of the bath, dried himself off the best he could and sat down to get dressed. His pants were on with almost no issues, and made his way back to the rented room.

Arthur had cleaned himself up, as well, shaving his beard, and straightening out his hair with a comb. Both of them felt like new men, ready to take on the world.

Almost.

"Need some help there?" said Arthur. He noticed Sam wince, trying to put on new bandages. The young man looked up at the outlaw and sighed.

"Kinda hard to angle, when you can't see the gash well…" Sam admitted. If he turned his head just enough he could see the knots of thread keeping his skin together, but that wasn't enough to take care of it himself. Even if he had been of sound mind right after the cougar attack, he couldn't have stitched his wound closed with his own hands.

So, he surrendered and let Arthur do it in his stead. He was careful and gentle. Sam felt his face burning as he felt the outlaw's hands on his skin. He tied off the end and helped Sam put his shirt on.

Sam was just redder. "You don't have to help me." He pouted when his wound stung in his attempt to take over and slide his arm into the sleeve of his new shirt.

"You were saying?" said Arthur.

"Shut up."

Once Sam had his shirt on, Arthur looked around for his vest, but… there was a huge hole in it now, thanks to that darned cougar.

Sam sighed. "Let just… leave it. I don't think it'll be useful anymore."

Arthur nodded. "Sure." And he threw it into the nearby waste basket.

Sam felt vulnerable without a second layer to wear out in the mountain town of Strawberry, but Arthur arranged for a carriage to take them back to Lemoyne to save his shoulder from the stress of horseback riding. Maybe his vest wouldn't be necessary in a hot place like Lemoyne, anyway.

"It'll be a long journey," said the driver, "So, settle in."

Arthur nodded. "Alright."

Sam got into the carriage first and then Arthur sat next to him. Soleil and Aurora would follow closely behind, just like before. At least Sam wasn't holding a drink in his hand like he'd been doing, but the withdrawal from a week of non-stop alcohol was apparent. He was rubbing his temples, which could explain why his fever was so bad, but at least it looked like he was through the worst of the withdrawals.

The carriage began to move and they were on their way back to Lemoyne. Despite the good night's sleep, Sam's eyes were drooping as they left the town. He probably shouldn't have taken that medicine before leaving, but Arthur was stubborn.

"You alright?" said Arthur.

"Think so," said Sam. "Wound's causing me a lot of trouble."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, we've got a long journey. May as well rest up."

"Guess so…"

"At some point, I outta take you on a hunting trip and show you how to do it. Lily picked up on it really well."

Sam was struggling to keep his eyes open. "As long as there's no cougars…" he slurred.

Arthur smiled. "Sure."

Sam nodded. He tried to watch the scenery go by as the carriage rode on, but fell asleep eventually. Arthur thought that might happen, and soon found Sam leaning on him again, but was ready. He was on the left side so Sam would lean that way and keep the pressure off his scratched up shoulder.

Who knew that getting someone's debt would be so much trouble? Arthur could've died, Sam could've died, and the debtor? Well, he's dead. Sam was upset, but it sounded like he was more concerned for Arthur, in the end. The outlaw looped an arm around the young man to keep him in place, rubbing his hand gently over the bandaged wound. Sam just seemed to mumble and snuggle a bit closer. He opened his journal and decided to look through some of the sketches he had done in the past few days while Sam was laid up.

Arthur was going to give Strauss a spicy earful for what happened, but his heart fluttered over what Sam had confessed to him. He was… protecting him? Surely, it was only because they were in the same gang. They were friends. The fact that he cared about him, even if he wasn't much…

He felt something. Something he hadn't felt in a long time… Since Mary…

He shook his head. What mattered now was getting Sam back to his cousin. She'd probably give him an earful over what happened, and he'd probably have to do something to make it up to her.

But for now, he was just happy that Sam was safe.

It was the middle of the night.

Lily followed the map Brandon had given Sam. It led her to a place in the Bayou, which wasn't far from Rhodes. In fact, it wasn't far from the orchard she helped protect a few days ago. The map led her to a big wooden shack. If this was where Brandon and Rose were, it was worth a shot. She had been sitting on this mystery for too long.

Knock! Knock!

A pair of brown eyes were looking through the little shade on the door. Lily knew immediately it was Rose.

"Uh… I'm supposed to tell you that… I'm a very… discouraged creature," said Lily.

The eyes left and Lily heard the sound of at least six locks unlocking. The door swung open and Rose stepped out, seeing Lily, but looked around.

"Oh no. It's just me," said Lily. "Listen, is Brandon around? I need to ask him for his… services."

Rose raised a brow.

"It's, uh… There's this man… and… he seems-"

Rose suddenly grabbed Lily's hand and yanked her inside. The pair went down some wooden stairs into the basement, where all she saw were some shelves.

"Whoa, why are we down here?" said Lily.

Rose thought to herself, and then looked through the shelf and pulled out a newspaper. It looked old, but the front cover showed a picture of strange looking people with crazed looks in their eyes. The headline read something about these people in the Bayou known as "Night Folk."

Lily vaguely remembered being told something like that. "I see."

Rose gestured for Lily to continue.

"Okay, well. There's this man. He's always finely dressed with a top hat, but… he seems to know who I am. And he also seems to know Sam. Like, he knows all about us, and it's weird. I don't know him as a patient, or anything. He's not part of your club, either."

The silent girl thought some more to herself, nodding in understanding. She made a writing motion with her hand with a raised brow.

"Oh? A drawing?" said Lily. "Yes, I drew something. I'm not the best artist, but… here."

Rose held out her hand, receiving a drawing of a man with a top hat and a distinct mustache. They had narrowed, refined eyes and a suit, like he was dressed for a big event. She nodded, but held up a hand again, rubbing her thumb over her index and middle finger.

"Oh, money?" said Lily. "Yeah, I've got it. So, you'll do it?"

Rose nodded and pointed at herself and then behind herself. Of course, she'd have to ask Brandon about it.

Lily shrugged. "Sure. Just… get to work soon. It's… It's freaking me out!"

Rose patted her friend's shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod.

A/N: So, I was going to add a whole thing where Sam and Arthur have to avoid Pinkertons and Cornwall's mercenaries while they went back to Lemoyne, but decided they would still arrive at the same conclusion, anyway. So, I cut it and let them have their fluff in peace! lol