Arthur's POV

The gunshot rang heavy through the air.

Your eyes wide as Colm thrust you forward, blood beginning to pool from your shoulder. He'd shot you.

"Y/N NO!"

Lunging forward Arthur wraps his arms around you, gently laying you down, his world laying in his arms as you begin to bleed out.

"Stay with me Y/N, you're gonna be ok, I gotcha!" he's yelling but he doesn't think you can hear him.

Arthur sees your eyes are dazed, unfocused, he moves your hand and presses his own to the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Please don't leave me." His eyes prick with tears as he watches you fight to stay conscious.

Your bloodied hand cups his cheek, even in pain you're trying to comfort him

Dutch, Charles, and John rush into the tent, following the noise, stopping in their tracks at the scene before them. Charles is the first to act, dropping beside Arthur he pulls rags from his satchel.

"She's going to be ok Arthur; we just have to stop the bleeding." He speaks calmly, moving Arthur's hand aside and pressing the rags firmly against the hole.

Arthur shrugs off his coat, gently laying it over you as best he can to protect your modesty.

"I can't lose her Charles, she's all I've got." His hands clasp around your bloodied one, now limp as you slip into unconsciousness.

Arthur misses the face Dutch makes as he speaks but John doesn't, he glares at Dutch. Charles had told him why he and Y/N were out that day, and like Arthur, he didn't want to believe it but seeing Dutch's reaction he realizes that Dutch wants nothing more than for him and Arthur to be at his beck and call. No women, no distractions, just Dutch and the gang.

"Where's Colm?" Dutch asks, eyes scanning the tent.

"Fled out the back after he shot her" Arthur replies, his eyes not leaving your face.

Dutch sighs, disappointed to have missed an opportunity to end Colm, reaffirming his belief that you are a distraction for Arthur.

"Go get the horses, we have to get her back to camp quickly," Charles commands the two men.

Arthur, thankful for his friend's level head, gently wraps you in his jacket and lifts you tight to his chest. Laying a kiss on your forehead he makes a silent prayer, he's not a religious man but right now he'll pray to any God who'll listen that you'll be okay.

Three days later

"Arthur, you should get some rest, I'll keep an eye on her." Abigail's voice is full of concern for him as she mops your brow.

The men got you back to camp swiftly, Reverend Swanson moving faster than he had in years, setting upon you instantly stitching the wound closed. You had remained unconscious over the past few days, only waking briefly as a fever set in, talking nonsensically as you fell into delirium.

Arthur hasn't left your side since getting you back.

"Thanks, Abigail but I'd rather be here in case she wakes up again." His hand still holds yours as his thumb rubs soothing circles across your knuckles.

You seem so small laying on the bed, his eyes sweep over your body taking in your features once again. Your face is flushed from the fever, sweat beading on your brow as Abigail mops it away. His eyes trail down the curve of your neck and over your chest. Arthur watches as it rises and falls with your shallow breaths, he glances over your wound, frowning as he takes in the puckered skin that still weeps angrily.

"Where is he?" Susan's voice interrupts Arthur's musing as she thunders into the tent. "Mr. Morgan, there you are! Now get up, I'm sick of seeing you in that bloodied shirt, you stink to high heaven."

"Miss Grimshaw, I..." He beings to protest but is interrupted as Susan yanks him from the chair by his ear.

"No excuses! Bath. NOW!" She drags him outside without a second thought. Abigail smirking at the pair as they leave.

Outside Susan drags Arthur to the water she has prepared, releasing his ear only when she's sure he won't flee.

"Strip." She orders, placing her hands assertively on her hips.

Arthur growls before conceding defeat, peeling his bloodied shirt over his head, and scooping the water over his tired muscles.

"Don't forget behind your ears, c'mon chop chop."

Photo credit- Instagram: arthurmorgan_love

Sighing Arthur shakes his head before dunking himself face-first into the water.

He takes the towel Susan offers to rub his head and body.

"Well, Mr. Morgan you certainly have grown into a fine man," Susan remarks, her hands still on her hips.

A blush erupts across his face and he begins to choke.

She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, "Oh shush Arthur, I just mean you've grown up is all. I'm glad you found a woman like Y/N. You deserve some happiness, especially after that nightmare of a woman Mary."

"Miss Grimshaw..." Arthur warns.

She waves her hand dismissing him again, "You know how I felt about her, I'm just saying that Y/N is twice the woman she was, and she cares for you deeply."

He nods, his eyes cast down as he remembers your first night together. A smile creeps across his face at the memory, how nervous he was, the stargazing, how you felt under him. He's lost in his memories when Abigail yells.

"SHE'S WAKING UP!"

Arthur reacts instantly, dropping the towel he sprints into the tent just as you're trying to push yourself up. You wince, instantly falling back on the bed.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart. Don't try to move" he gently cups your face.

You seem confused by your surroundings, your eyes darting around the tent until they fall on Arthur's face. He sees you instantly relax as you lean into his hand.

"Arthur..." your voice is scratchy as you speak for the first time. His heart is bursting with relief that you are awake. He shushes you, wanting you to conserve your energy.

"Shhh sweetheart, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."