Chapter 4
"Keep gaping at me and your jaw might fall out, Mr. Morgan."
He felt the world leaving his body. When his brain came back to reality, he closed his mouth slowly and stared at her with a frown.
He'd never met Heidi McCourt-only heard 'bout her in passing. She was an innocent young woman who Dutch murdered in Blackwater for no good reason.
Instantly, Arthur felt sadness inside of him. Dutch'd killed her under persuasion from Micah the last time he'd heard John describing the events.
"I'm..."
"You weren't there, Mr. Morgan, how can you blame yourself for an event that you weren't present for?"
She fell into hysterics on the ferry according to John, but she'd been determined to call Dutch bluff and reveal who he really was all along.
"I know but... I-I'm sorry for what happened to you." He replied solemnly. Also ashamed it was the man who raised him after Lyle, taught him how to fend for himself in the life of an outlaw. The same man who left him to die.
"I could say the same about you. Being raised by a man who didn't even have the respect to give you a proper burial. Just left you there. Never even asked about what illness you had. What type of parent does that to their child?" There was a loud amount of venom in her tone, but also bits of sympathy.
He saw everyone's faces after Blackwater. While most were still loyal to him, there were some doubts about where things were going. For some, those were quelled by Dutch's speeches such as Javier. For others like John and even Arthur, those speeches became less and less convincing.
'We did what we had to do to get out of there. End of discussion.'
"We both know that excuse is a load of rubbish," she stated bluntly. "Honestly, considering your story I feel bad for you. You have such good potential to be something more, but that piece of shit wants you to be his protégé."
Arthur was surprised that she didn't chastised him. He still had a bond with her murderer that was shattered in more ways than one by actions of the future. He'd expected disgust.
"Why would I hate you? You were a lost boy when you were found by him just as you were lost in your final moments?"
She glared at him, her eyes full of warning.
"Let me tell you something, Mr. Morgan, Dutch and Micah Bell are perfect descriptions of scum. No matter what you do, you're not going to be a perfect son. There's always more. You never were. Bell was."
Slowly, another figure manifested behind her.
A man stood not too far away, tall like Arthur and wearing a black three-piece suit with a top hat. He heavily resembled Trelawny.
"Hello, Mr. Morgan."
The man had a different voice from the outcast of the group. But Arthur knew he knew the man from somewhere.
"I know you..." he stated more than asked.
The man smirked. "Many people do know me; I am a very distinguishable man."
He was pretty sure that this was just crazy-talk. "I... can't recall our last meeting."
"I know you from all over. You, John, and many others. You've forgotten me at certain points, or outright shoved me away. But our last meeting was actually just recently."
"Whatcha talking 'bout, pardner?" Arthur asked. "I need an explanation."
The Strange Man smirked, his eyes gleaming in amusement. "At least, you're more patient than John was. Predictable. Given you're the eldest."
"John?" Arthur repeated, wondering where this strange man may have met him. "How do you know him? You're someone he never told me 'bout?"
"Unfortunately, you were long dead when I talked. He's way more different than he is now. You would have been proud to see the legacy you left behind. Though unfortunately, John couldn't escape the consequences of his actions until it was too late."
He frowned. "Why are you telling me all of this? Hell, why do you even care?"
Arthur looked around, hoping for a way out among gray smoke. He was willing to try. Did he really even spoke with Heidi McCourt or was it just his imagination being caught up in the moment? Was this all a dream, and he was actually dead with the devil hoping to taunt him?
"You're looking for a way out when you just got here."
He looked behind him, only for the mysterious man and the woman who claimed to be Heidi McCourt was gone. He turned back around and saw the man walking up.
"I know many things about you, Mr. Morgan, I know your parents, your background, the events of the past twenty years. All the difficulties you have or will endure, all the deaths, all the betrayals, everything. Despite life itself going against you, you accomplished redemption, friend, at the end."
Arthur swallowed, his gaze locked onto him. "What the hell do you want from me?"
"Perhaps I misjudged your patience." He snickered. "I want to tell you that you cannot undo everything. Some events are meant to happen. No matter what, you'll have to keep running and don't look back."
Arthur shivered. A chill crawled across his body, and he remembered what he'd told John moments before his death on that mountain.
His nostrils flared. "How do you know 'bout that?"
"I saw your ending, Mr. Morgan." The stranger nodded. "It's partially the reason why pity was granted upon you at the end."
"Pity?"
"Well, not exactly pity," the man chuckled, "you'll face many challenges in this time as well. Nothing is ever easy. You will have to carry regrets about things you wish to avoid."
"I don't understand."
The Strange Man smiled. "You aren't meant to, friend. The future you know continues as accordance. John allowed his hate to blind him, and he paid for it. Gunned down surrounded by foes. Young Jack Marston grew up, blinded by revenge. What a shame to a story already so tragic."
He didn't understood what the hell was going on, but when he processed the words, he couldn't help the sadness that traveled through his body. He saw images of people he'd cared about. The bloodied form of John. The vengeful glare of the man who heavily resembled him: Jack. And tombstones.
"Why are you doing this?!" Arthur shouted, his emotions uncontrollable.
"This is the only chance you're going to get, sir. You won't receive another. You'll have to proceed very carefully. Not everything is going to go in your favor."
He frowned.
"You will encounter hardships along the way. Morals will be at question. Betrayals would come... again. Any and all obstacles, you will have to prepare for or continue to move forward. There's nothing that can be done for that world you've left behind. A story retold time and time again. With the same ending."
"Can you stop it?"
"I can only do the bare minimum, Mr. Morgan, but far too many lives have been claimed due to the likes of Dutch van der Linde and Micah Bell. There is nothing we can do, not for that world, only allowing it to play its course. Who knows? Maybe there is hope for him, where he finds people, or maybe his ending as tragic as the rest of this story. Let us think of a title, shall we?"
He hummed.
"Red Dead Redemption."
He laughed.
"Quite a befitting title, wouldn't you agree?"
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Arthur repeated, his thoughts on Jack solely, growing up, hell-bent on revenge, becoming possibly worse than Micah. It all terrified him. "Why coul... If Jack is destined an outlaw, what's the point of this?"
The stranger smiled, his eyes flashing with the distant amount of sadness before it was gone, "I'm merely warning you what's at stake. I said merely that there was nothing to be done for that world. But perhaps, for this one, hope exists. The future is already changing. Time as you know it has altered, some by your actions and others by the universe itself. You've already left a mark, one that you haven't seen yet. You've already walked away from death once. Brought back to a centered point of time where you are not bonded by a time limit."
He frowned. "What... do you mean?"
He focused his stare critically on him. "You not getting that illness is going to change things. Every action has consequences. Every deed. Every change. You have an advantage of sorts. You're still healthy, not plagued with the threat of death. But sacrifices will have to be made. Kinship. Friendships again. Brotherhood. You would have to be strong no matter what."
The image of Jackie burnt in his mind, that innocent little boy being twisted into someone, it overwhelmed all previous doubts. There would be no time for hesitation. He would follow Dutch... for now. He wouldn't allow himself to be fooled by delusions that he could persuade the man to think reasonably. He needed to save all of them. They were all brainless followers. Indoctrinated. Only a few would leave right now, but when he could, he would pull as many as he could out.
He would feed upon the doubt that many already have. Teach others to think for themselves.
He nodded, face growing determined. "I'll do anything."
The stranger spoke solemnly. "You are the final hope, Arthur Morgan, make every choice with a grain of salt. Be prepared for the ramifications of what this could all mean. Things can get better... but they can get worse."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Worse?"
"Futures are always changing as I have told you. This is not a chance offered to many people, simply because of the dangers that come with impacting the future."
"I... don't understand," he retorted.
"This is a new world, Arthur, it took much to send you back suffice to say," the smirk came across his lips again, "it was argued that you didn't even deserve it or that it was too dangerous. Everything that you have experienced has had a profound effect on you. That said, what was done was very dangerous. We could have inadvertently unleashed an honor-deprived version of you upon the world."
He stared at him, shocked. The burden of the entire world, or at least as much as he knew it, was at stake. He would sacrifice himself over and over again to ensure Jack a brighter future most of all. He didn't want that boy to become an outlaw. There was no point in trying to save Dutch if he didn't want to be saved at the compromise of Jack's soul, something that was a guarantee.
His primary obligation to leaving the gang or reorganizing it into something new and better, aside from saving as many folks as possible, were preventing Jack Marston from potentially following Dutch's legacy, without even knowing it.
"I would do what I could. But how do I know what I have to do?"
He smiled. "You'll find a way. Trust in yourself and your gifts, move with strength and conviction, conquer any weaknesses, do what you have to do, keep fighting, keep pushing now that you can."
He closed his eyes, finding a tear traveling. "I'll do it."
"ARTHUR!" a voice shouted from a distance, sounding so far away.
The stranger snickered. "Ah, there are matters of most dire importance." He tilted his hat down at his direction. "Good luck, Mr. Morgan."
Instantly, he was swooped away. Darkness consumed his vision as he spotted the outlines of a smile on the Strange Man's lips, before he drowned in an abyss.
The faint voice got closer. "ARTHUR! Wake up!"
His world exploded, and he came to, finding the form of Hosea Matthews standing over him, fatherly concern in his eyes.
"Are you alright, son?"
Arthur's note: Imagine Low Honor Arthur time traveling. I can't write it because High Honor Arthur is my canon, but Low Honor Arthur would be interesting. I would read it though. Lol
I see a lot of stories where time travel John calls out Dutch about Heidi McCourt. How do you think Dutch would react if it's ARTHUR who calls him out instead? At this point in time, to him, Arthur is the perfect son, so how do you think he would feel about that alone?
John is coming up with... Oh what's this? A ripple effect?