Arthur decides he has no choice but to double back and head East in the hopes that the O'Driscoll's fled the other way. Having risen with the sun he heads back into Valentine to resupply before the ride.

"I won't be long girl."

He soothes and pats her damp coat as she grumbles at the tether post, still not having quite forgiven him for leaving her out in the rain all night. Arthur shakes his head and chuckles, not sure if he finds her attitude amusing or the fact that he's been talking to her nonstop like a crazed person for the last few days.

Pulling his hat low to hide his eyes he enters the shop, browsing slowly with his face to the shelves he waits for the other patrons to leave; the fewer people who see him the better. When he's sure he's alone he takes his goods to the counter, thumbing through and handing over bills as quickly as he could.

"Can I interest you in a cigar? Just got 'em in this mornin'. Real fine they are." The shopkeeper offers enthusiastically whilst packing Arthur's items painfully slowly.

"Uh no thanks, just this is fine."

"Well how about some cigarettes? You look like a man who enjoys a finer smoke."

"No, just this. Now, can ya hurry I'm in a bit of a rush?

"Fair enough- Ah Ms. Linton, good to see you! I have the tea you ordered, just arrived."

Arthur curses at the sound of the bell signaling another customer and the shopkeeper stops packing his items to greet the new woman. Arthur internally groans at the man's glacial pace but then his skin begins to prickle with a feeling he can't quite place.

Linton? Why was that name familiar?

Wait...Wasn't that...

"Oh good, Jamie will be pleased."

Shit.

Arthur would recognize that voice anywhere.

Mary.

Taking his packed things, he drops his head low and rounds his shoulders in a futile attempt at making himself less noticeable, but when you're over six feet it's hardly an easy task and as expected she recognizes him in an instant.

"Arthur?" her voice is quiet with disbelief.

He sighs and turns, realizing there's no way out of this.

"Hullo Mary."

"Oh my, Arthur is that really you? You look, well you look tired, but you look good." She beams at him in a way that used to make his heart jump, but now it only irritates him. Somehow, she never fails to both compliment and insult him in the same sentence.

"Uh thanks, you seem well, I hope the family is good. Sorry, I can't stay I have to be going." He turns and leaves, not stopping to hear her response but cursing under his breath when he realizes, she's followed him outside.

"Arthur wait! It's been years since I saw you, why don't you come by the house? Jamie would love to see you again."

"Sorry, Mary I have somewhere to be." He finishes tethering his goods to Bodecia, before placing a foot in the stirrup but a small hand on his arm stops him in his tracks.

"Arthur please, I missed you."

Photo credit: Instagram mrjohnmarston_outlaw

He's not sure what he feels at her words but it's nothing good. Anger? Frustration? Disgust even? Worn down and tired from the past few days he can't help the emotion that boils over. Lowering his foot, he turns and stares at her in disbelief.

"Missed me? You didn't miss me when yer daddy said I wasn't good enough for ya. Or when you told me you wouldn't marry me."

"Not wouldn't Arthur, couldn't! I couldn't marry you because of..."

"...Because of the life, I led, yea I heard it all before Mary. Well, I guess you were right Mary because it's all over now, the gang is finished. Dutch went crazy, Hosea is dead, and Y/N..." He pauses at your name; it's been days since he said it aloud and it carries so much power and emotion for him.

"Hosea is dead? I'm sorry Arthur, I know he was like a father to you. And Y/N... I'm sorry she left you I- "

"-Left me!?" Clearly, Mary had misunderstood his pause and it only angered him further that she would assume such a thing. "Y/N didn't leave me; we're engaged and right now she's in trouble."

Her mouth snaps shut, silencing her next words and even through his frustration Arthur can't help but feel slightly smug. He never felt worthy of Mary, not because she was a great woman but because she always made sure to remind him of his status in society.

Outlaw.

From here the word was always an insult but from you it made him swell with pride. When Charles had first bought you back to camp Arthur had still been with Mary, but he'd be a liar if he didn't say you caught his eye. He was a loyal man through and through, but he often found his eyes drifting over to you, and though he hates to admit it, his thoughts often drifted to you late at night. He remembers when you first realized the gang was outlaws and you heard about the sizable bounty on his head, you hadn't shied away or gulped in fear like so many would, instead your eyes grew wide with admiration and you'd begged him to show you the poster. When he was with you, you made him feel worthy of the world, but with Mary, he felt he was always in debt to it.

"Now I hope you keep well Mary but I gotta go take care of some things." He swings his leg over the saddle and watches her as her mind races to catch up to his words.

"Arthur don't go, please." She places her hand on his knee and it feels so strange and wrong to him.

"I don't have time for this. Y/N's gonna give birth in a few months and I gotta make sure the world is safe for her when she does. Good day Mary."

And with that, he turns and rides away, not waiting or caring to hear her response.

He finds himself riding hard, fuelled by the conversation. He still doesn't know where the O'Driscolls are, but he figures East is the only option he has since there was no trail West. There's still an uneasy feeling in his gut, it wasn't usual for the O'Driscolls to not have a campout West, something was going on and Arthur knew it wasn't anything good.

"This bed rest is going to kill me!" you groan as Abigail fluffs your pillow and tucks you in.

Jack sits beside you, laying out a collection of books he'd found around the place. He was such a bookworm and was eager to share his stash when he heard you'd be laying around for a couple of months. He always read when he was sick and was too young to understand that you weren't sick per se, but you appreciated the gesture regardless.

"The bed rest ain't gonna kill you, but I will if you don't stay in this bed and I'll make sure Arthur kills you too when he sees you again." She chuckles at you as you swat her playfully.

"Do you think I will see him again?" you ask saddened by the thought but surprisingly holding it together.

"Oh Y/N of course. I've known that man for as long as I can remember and he's stubborn as hell when it comes to dyin' and he's even more stubborn when it comes to you."

You smile at her playful scold as it strangely calms you. Stubborn was certainly the perfect word for Arthur and you couldn't deny the man simply refused to die, he could apparently walk-through showers of bullets and live through a number of knife wounds that surely should have killed him.

"Now get some rest."

She pets your hair and leaves with Jack, letting you settle back against the mountain of pillows she's propped you upon. You look around the room, and it dawns on you that you were going to be staring at the same four walls for the next two months. Glancing to your side you notice the stack of books on the best, frowning you realize that a brown leather-bound book isn't a book at all, it's Arthur's journal. You'd forgotten you had it and it must have forgotten been left out somewhere and Jack probably picked it up on his hunts.

Feeling the soft leather in your hands you bring it to your nose, hoping to smell Arthur but all you can smell are leather and horse from where his journal had rubbed against the brush in his satchel. Sliding your finger down the edge you let it fall open to a page, feeling it much less intrusive if you just read a random entry instead of going from cover to cover.

July 1897

I am not my own man anymore. Every fiber of my being belongs to her, my mind, my heart, my soul.

And I gladly offer it to her.

I never thought I could feel this way after Mary, but Y/N pieced me back together bit by bit.

Last night we made love for the first time and I never knew it could feel like that. Shit, I was nervous as hell and I think she knew it but didn't say anything. When she undressed it took everything in my power not to finish then and there, every inch of her is perfect. When she finished underneath me, I knew I'd never belonged to myself or anyone else ever again; it was ethereal.

Arthur Morgan, you fool, you are in love.

You don't even realize how wide your grin is as you finish the paragraph. Arthur Morgan, your Arthur Morgan wrote like a lovesick fool, and over you no less it filled you with pure happiness for the first time. You were eager to read more but paused wondering if you should continue since these were Arthur's deepest thoughts. Vowing to admit to him once you saw him again you flicked to another page, you could justify the invasion because this was the most connected you'd felt to him in some time.

January 1899

I thought I'd lost her.

I haven't written in here for a while, but I've felt no desire to, the light was gone taken. When I saw her with him, naked and bruised I felt rage and fear inside me I never knew I was capable of. When I saw her fall and her blood, god there was so much blood, I thought for sure my world was ending. I've felt heartbreak and loss, but not like this, this was different, this was my soul threatening to tear apart. It scares me so much that she holds such a part of me, that now there's an extension of me that is vulnerable, that I can't protect at every moment. I have to be careful to let her breathe, especially now, after everything, but all I want if to do is shield her away from the world and keep her safe. Her wound is sure to scar, and now I will have a constant reminder of how I failed. If she

You stop reading, there was only so much you could handle of Arthur's most inner thoughts at one time. Fingering your scar, which was itching due to the swell of your belly, you think back to the events that took place in order for you to get it, and how quickly it all went South. Being in the gang had always required seeking those small moments of happiness among the violence and constant moving, but with Arthur, those moments came more frequently. Suddenly tired, you roll over to your side, closing your eyes and letting sleep wash over you easily.

"Y/N wake up!"

"Huh. Wha-?"

"Get up, we have to move."

You squint in the dark, but your eyes are slow to adjust. Charlotte is shuffling around your room in a blur, a shotgun slung over her shoulder as she throws miscellaneous items into a bag.

"But I'm supposed to be on bed rest? Charlotte what's going on?"

"A man is at the door, John called him Butch or something, I don't know who that is, but he didn't seem too friendly, and John told me we have to leave. Abigail is already out back with Jack and Keiron.

"Butch? I don't know any... Oh my god, Dutch. His name is Dutch."

She nods and stops packing, staring at your paling face.

"He dangerous?"

You nod and swing your legs from the bed gingerly. The doctor said it was risky to be up and about but right now it was a risk you were willing to take. Charlotte hurries to your side, helping you up and guiding you to the door, you both pause and press your ears to the wood listening to see if it was safe to leave.

"She ain't here Dutch I told you. The hell you want with her anyway?"

John lies smoothly but you worry Dutch can see through it, after all, he taught Arthur and John everything they know.

"I'm not going to hurt her John, I came to smooth things over, so we could be a family again."

"You pointed a goddamn gun at her Dutch! You really think her, or Arthur is going to forgive you after that?"

"I was emotional, and I am truly sorry for that, but Hosea had just died, and I didn't know what to think. Where is Arthur son? He'll understand, he always understands."

"He ain't here either, he went to end this stupid feud finally, and don't call me son."

You can hear the venom in John's voice as you continue to listen from behind the door, waiting for the opportunity to leave.

"He went after Colm!? John that's why I'm here, to end this. He can't take on Colm alone, he doesn't know what he's capable of, but I do. I can help him; we can help him."

"Thought you said you were here to be a family again?" John sneers.

"Us fighting Colm together is us being a family son. Hosea's dead because of them, Y/N was hurt because of them- "

"-Y/n was hurt because of your goddamn stealing Dutch!"

You wince at the anger from John, knowing him he was probably gripping a chair far too tightly. A habit you'd noticed Arthur did too like they were holding back.

"You're not wrong, but we need to help Arthur John, where did he head?"

"West."

"West? But Colm isn't in the West?"

"What do you mean Colm ain't West? They have a ranch out there, where is he?"

"He's holed up in Van Horn."

You pull your ear from the door and Charlotte frowns in confusion, not understanding your fear. Colm was close. And Arthur was so far away.