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Chapter 23

'Some things have been happening differently. Some things hasn't happened at all. I managed to stop myself from getting TB this time around. 'Course I have more years left assuming that I can live that long. I don't like the way Dutch has been eyeing me lately. Javier and Bill have also been different. At least, Sean is back. The camp is whole, united. All of us are together for now at least.

Last time, I was happy that things were going to get better. I know better this time. Right now, I have to stick it out with Dutch's plans. I don't know what to think 'bout Mrs. Adler's attitude, but she seems to be happier lately. It seems like ever-'

"Hey, Arthur."

He frowned, stopping, but kept his eyes on the page.

"Hey, Arthur." Abigail snapped him out of his thoughts.

Arthur sighed, having a feeling he knew what was coming. "Miss Roberts?"

Abigail's hands came together apprehensively, unable to meet his eyes. "How are ya doing?"

He smirked in amusement, "I highly doubt you came here to ask 'bout my day without a request."

Her lips curved up more guiltily. "I guess I'm that obvious."

"Yes, you are. Let me guess. Jackie?"

"Jack." She confirmed, biting her lower lip. "He just- I don't know. He seems... kind of down. All of this upheaval couldn't be easy on the poor kid. We don't talk nor smile." She seemed so sad in that moment, lost and conflicted. It was obvious enough that this had been pestering her for a while. "I just don't know what to do, Arthur. The boy... well, you have been different lately. You'd gotten better. Nicer. More compassionate. Jack needs that type of role model. And John... Well John..."

She seemed on the verge of tears, and Arthur reacted without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her. "Now, now. None of that, sweetheart." He pulled away and smiled, "I will do whatever I can for little Jackie. That boy matters to me. His happiness matters. His future-"

The thought of that little boy becoming an armed gunslinger plagued Arthur's heart.

Abigail sniffled slightly and with irritation swept at her eyes. "I don't even know why I'm acting like this now, I just-"

"You're a single mother worrying 'bout her son." Arthur shook his head. "And with all of these changes with everything, it's too much to take."

"I need him to take his mind off of everything for a little while. And well you know his father is useless." She replied.

Arthur's mouth folded into a flat line for some strange reason. He'd known Marston was far from perfect. But the man tried. At least, he did later. In the end, he did care 'bout that boy, even though it took a bit of time for him to wake up and come to reality.

"Sorry." She added quickly, gaze dropping to the ground. "I don't mean to sound so... callous but we'll you know how John is. Maybe somewhere in there is a good man, but... I just don't think I'm ready to trust him with my son just yet. Maybe not ever."

Arthur caught on the way she said 'my son', excluding the boy's father entirely. Normally, he wouldn't have commented on it. Almost desperately, he clung to the hopes of repairing this relationship.

He still passed off what advice he could, "Abigail, while I want to do what I can for the boy, I'm not his father. John is. You two made a commitment to raise him together. He is both of your sons. I can only act as a uncle or second father figure-nothing more. I have already discussed things with him. You two are going to have to talk it out eventually." They really had to, if they wanted things to get better before it was too late.

Abigail looked stunned for a moment before she nodded slowly. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Arthur."

"Where's Jack?"

"He was over on the edge of the camp, by the horses." She stated and motioned.

He nodded. Jack was beside the tree, his expression sullen and lost. The boy was drawing something in the dirt Kieran, meanwhile, was tending to Ennis, with Sean making wisecracks while Kieran quipped back in amusement. Their friendship was certainly another debacle that Arthur didn't know how to think 'bout it.

"What is this guy's deal, Arthur Morgan? Too much of a pacifist, I tell ya!" Sean shouted, throwing his right hand on his forehead.

"What happened now?" He inquired, looking between the two men.

Kieran turned back around, "I just so happen to prefer being around horses than people."

"And that is the problem. This guy's boring!"

"Who are you calling boring?!" Kieran exclaimed. "Ain't you supposed to be reading with Lenny?"

"Yes!" Another voice boomed out. The still recovering Lenny stormed up. "I want to have you read."

"Ah, shit, I gotta head off to town. Dutch has plans for me. Bye-bye now!" Sean unhitched his horse and rode off.

"Not so fast, you Irish fucker, we're not done!" Lenny unhitched Maggie and followed the Irish. "Now! Hold up, Sean MacGuire! You promised! I ain't giving up on you!"

"Kid, I told ya enough times! Reading ain't for me!"

Their voices became more distant as Arthur couldn't help the laughter that escaped his chest at the scene. He couldn't always worried.

He didn't stop his stride until he found Jack and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Jackie, how you been?"

"Playing." The boy responded.

"Anything fun?"

"I guess…" Jack sounded unsure. Damn, it reminded him that Jack didn't have any other children to play with. Didn't have any siblings. Just a loner. There were plenty of women, but those considered "children" were far from the boy's age.

He realized he wanted other children around. He wanted a community where Jack, nor those kids, ain't have to think 'bout those types of things and wouldn't be alone. But, this life, with how it was, they would just be future killers under the impression of a family. He wasn't meant to be out here, constantly evading the law like all of them were.

But he was...

For now at least.

And no other child deserved that.

He headed over to prepare his mare for their little river trip and approached Jack.

He swung the rod out to the boy's hair, catching his attention. His face brightened, eyes widened, the beginning of a smirk coming over his lips.

"Well, I'm going to be taking a one way to take a trip to the river," he grinned, "Enough of sulking, boy! Get up and go get a rod!"

Jack stood straight as expected and ran to the back, wanting to be strong in front of "Uncle Arthur".

Arthur, Lenny, and Hosea have been teaching him how to read. Sean was the type to get the kid into all sorts of trouble. But eventually, when Lenny managed to drag Sean's ass back here and onto one of the seats, he might be joining Jack. Arthur'd hoped to see that...

Javier was a good uncle to the boy. He was often found teaching him how to sing with his guitar. Indeed, it did give the boy some tempting ideas. One time, Jack hid his guitar with the help of Sean, and the amount of hell Javier gave to Sean wasn't a pretty sign. To give the Mexican credit, he never took his anger out on Jack. Bill was somewhat nice to him, mutually watching over Cain when the nice dog showed up. Micah was the only one Abigail didn't like being around him. And Arthur couldn't blame her.

That was another reason why Arthur ain't going to let Micah live for that much longer. He couldn't let whatever Micah did to that goddamn dog happened again. He just-

Damn it.

Arthur needed to calm himself down.

He didn't have to always concentrate on the conflict between Micah and Dutch. Not when they were resting. Even the rat didn't always find ways to be irritating, just sitting on his seat and cleaning his revolver, murmuring to himself on an isolated log.

When Jack came back, and he loaded the boy onto the back of Ryan, he was 'bout to climb on, stopping when he noticed that John Marston was standing again, a slight limp in his step if anything else, but was able to stand. His scarred face curled into almost an upset frown as he stared at the back of the oblivious boy's head.

Then his eyes moved over to Arthur, their eyes locking. It was almost as if John was going to move over and finally accept his parental responsibilities. But he didn't move. Arthur shook his head and climbed onto the horse, pulling on the reins and taking off, leaving behind the camp in the dust.

"Uncle Arthur, this is boringgggggg!" The boy complained.

"Patience," Arthur laughed.

"Ughhhhhhhhh..."

"This is a good lesson, ya know."

"Howwwwwww?" The boy inquired, confusion in his voice.

"You gotta learn to wait 'till the prey comes to you."

Jack glared down at his fishing rod; irritation and intrigue halfway across his face. "This is so goddam-"

"Jack!" He reprimanded the boy before he finished that. Oh, Abigail would have given Jack hell if she'd found out that he was using that word. "Where did you hear that word before?"

"Pa was mumbling the word a lot," Jack admitted sheepishly. "He was mentioning you and Uncle Hosea."

Ah, that explained it. Likely, brooding. Well, he would have a lot more to sulk about with Abigail when she'd found out what he was teaching her son-

"Well, don't let your mother hear you say that. Better yet, don't curse at all." The amount of tail she would whip if he did... and well, Arthur didn't want her to think he was the one teaching Jack that type of language! Abigail was very much a reluctant disciplinarian but was far from a pushover when it came to her son.

"Fine... but still boring," Jack said.

Disregarding that thought, he looked at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just calm down, kid, don't be rushing it. You will catch them eventually."

Jack seemed halfway between a groan, but responded, "So we just need to relax?"

"Yep."

"Like Uncle?" The boy giggled.

Arthur snorted. "I wouldn't call what he does as relaxing. His tales 'bout the good old days, Red Harlow, and all of them is crazy talk from a jester." He declared.

Jack laughed somewhat. "Uncle Hosea and Miss Grimshaw was talking 'bout how you have been a matured young man lately." He said.

"Have they now?" He smirked. "Why is that funny?"

"Well, you're old!"

It would be a lie to say he wasn't partially offended. "I ain't that old, boy. Not as old as those two fossils losing their memory more and more." Arthur replied. He looked down at the boy. "Um, don't tell them I said that."

"I won't."

Sheepish, he detected. Yeah, word would reach them, and another problem to deal with.

"So… Anyone else had anything to say 'bout my maturity?" He smiled.

"No, just them." he retorted simply, almost without thought.

The time traveler shrugged, laying back against the bank of the river once again. His eyes closed, and he began to ponder.

What felt like hours passed without a word from either. Eventually, though, Jack wanted to break the silence.

"Uncle Arthur?"

"Yeah, boy?"

"You brought my pa back down from that mountain, right?"

"Me, Uncle Charles, and Uncle Javier ya. Why?"

"Thank you." The boy replied. "Ma was sad that he was gone."

To his shame, he looked guilty again. He looked down at the boy and smiled, the boy tilted away from the fishing rod as he focused on the mission.

He could see the waves of fish coming near his line, but none tried for the cheese clung at the end. The goddamn bastards.

"But Ma looks mad again." Jack declared, his teeth gritted slightly.

"Well... folks ain't going to always going to be happy, Jackie."

"But Pa's alright now."

"Now, he is," he declared. "How 'bout you, kid?" he changed the topic.

"I'm fine." The boy replied a little bit more.

Arthur wasn't going to let the conversation go that easily. His lips pursed together as he breathed slowly from his nose. "These last few weeks haven't been easy." He declared. "Lots of moving. Lots of changes. With some folks going mis... on a trip and not coming back, I know it's just been a lot to take in." He changed from direct to subtle. "'Specially for you and your Momma. You ain't alone in this world, Jackie."

Jack didn't reply. When he wasn't pushing off questions, the boy tended to think a lot. One of the positive traits Dutch had.

Arthur pushed himself up to a crouch, crouching in front of Jack. The kid was short. Still so young. So innocent. It was hard to believe one day he would become an outlaw. At least, another version of him. "You've been really brave. You have been strong, much more of a man than me, Uncle John, and most of us could ever be." Arthur looked into the boy's small eyes, looking for something suggesting anything was happening. He found an impassive stare. He'd make a good poker player.

"But it's okay to admit your weaknesses. You have the right to show weaknesses. Not everything is something you should be worried 'bout." he continued. He removed his hat, placing it into Jack's head. "And no matter what your pa says or does, you will always have people who care 'bout you, you get that-son? Appreciate what you have, 'cause it could all be gone. Allow us to take the stress from you and worry while you be happy."

Arthur felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around his neck. Jack trembled slightly, and he realized the boy was crying. He patted the boy's back, allowing him to work it out of his system.

"There you go. You're alright." Arthur muttered softly, recalling Hosea, Dutch, and him during moments like this so long ago. It worked too, just as he did him.

Eventually, Jack pulled away calmer than before, wiping his nose with a sniffle.

"You'll be alright, kid." Arthur ensured him, holding him by his shoulders. "Just- look, if you ever have something you need to talk about… but you don't wanna talk to your Ma 'bout? Come to me, Hosea, or even Charles, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed with a newfound smile.

"Alright then. Just try not to keep everything bottled up. It ain't good for you. You had your Ma worried. Remember, you still have her."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, kid."

"Okay." he promised. His face suddenly brightened. "I think I know what'll make Momma feel better!"

He jolted upright, making to rush off, but stopped at the last second. He stared down at the fishing rod that he'd abandoned on the riverbank, then stared back up at Arthur. Arthur's hat nearly fell in front of his eyes.

The older man chuckled, fixing his hat. "Go ahead. I'll keep an eye on the fishing rod for you."

Jack smiled in appreciation, then scurried off. He dashed between patches of plants, gathering flowers as he ran.

A smirk found its way to Arthur's face as he observed the kid working. Jack's excitement was palpable, darting for flower patches with more happiness than he'd seen the kid show in weeks.

"I guess I could be a good dad after all," he said to himself sarcastically, knowing that ain't true. He could never be a father. He ain't like Hosea in that regard.

His attention was diverted when he heard a tug at the line. He collected his rod, bemused. He hadn't seen it so much as move.

Another pull. Not on his line...

"Ugh, you have to be kiddi-" he started, noticing as Jack's little fishing rod - a toy basically by Hosea - twitched. It was a clear sign.

He dropped his own rod, reaching down to grip the much smaller one before it was pulled into the river. He picked it up and began to pull, but the fish resisted against him.

The next minute or so was simply recalling the techniques that Hosea and Dutch had instructed since childhood. Pull, relinquish some slack, and reel when it got exhausted. Repeat. The little shit was a fighter, though, and this goddamn rod wasn't helpful at all! It actually took Arthur a tremendous amount of effort to bring the fish back to shore.

When he finally did, he smiled with pride at the ten-or-so-pound salmon that hooked off of the line.

"That was on my line?" Jack inquired behind him.

"Sure was." Arthur confirmed, not taking his eyes away from the squirming fish.

"I made Momma a necklace. Look, Uncle Arthur, look!"

Arthur smiled, looking at Jack's little creation. "Well, well, now, let's head back to show her, why don't we?"

A while later, they head back.

Only then, he realize something was off.

The question rang in his mind savagely, making him ponder.

Where the hell was Agent Milton?