"No no no! Stay with me y/n, I need you to try and stay awake." Abigail pleads desperately as she works to make you as comfortable as possible for the birth.

You've been groaning in pain for three hours, Colm has gathered what supplies he could and was now pacing back and forth a few meters away, muttering periodically about not enough time. Abigail knew Arthur was on your tail and although she wished things went in a different direction, your sudden labor offered them the perfect opportunity to catch up.

Holding the whiskey bottle to your lips she encourages you to drink, assuring you that it will help with the pain.

"You just have to stay awake, and you'll be fine." She encourages, wiping your sweaty brow with a cloth. Leaning close to you she adds in a whisper. "Arthur is close, I heard Dutch telling Colm. You just have to hang on a little longer."

You nod, unable to find the words through the pain. Shuffling back against the tree with Abigail's help you begin to feel like your pelvis is being torn apart.

"I don't think I can do this Abigail, the pain, it's too much." You groan, wondering if it felt like this for every one woman, and wondering how they did it.

Positioning herself between your knees she peels back your blood-soaked dress and removes your undergarments, paling slightly at the sheer volume of blood already lost. The truth was childbirth was painful, she'd experienced it herself and helped several others through their own, but right now yours was beyond her expertise. God how she wished Grimshaw, and Swanson were here, they'd know what to do.

"You can do this; we're going to deliver this baby together okay? Give Jack a friend to play with." She keeps talking, making sure you're conscious and listening, you're not ready to start pushing yet but if she didn't do something this baby wasn't going to make it out of you alive. "Colm, I need a knife!"

He ceases his pacing; eyeing her as if she'd just asked him for an elephant. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"She's not dilated enough to push, but with a knife, I can increase the opening, give her space to get the baby out."

You think she's completely lost it hearing her talk about cutting you open but right now you're not sure you could feel any more pain, even if she did cut you up like a fish.

"If I don't cut her, we could be here for hours." She stressed, the time, knowing Colm was keen to put some miles between him and wherever Arthur may be.

Shooting her a warning glare he relents, freeing his hunting knife and wiping the blood-stained blade across his pants.

"Remember, you try anything and that precious boy of yours better learn how to use his left hand."

Swallowing her courage, she takes the weapon, dousing it in whiskey before turning back to you, knife poised and ready to butcher you.

"I'm going to need you to bite down on something." She hands you a rag, rolling it and placing it between your teeth.

Tears streak down your cheeks as you try desperately to remain calm, despite seeing the knife that you know is about to plunge into you.

"I won't lie, this is going to hurt." She barely gives you a chance to respond as she slides the knife into you, cutting up inside of you.

A blood-curdling scream rips from your throat as she pulls the knife back, bloody and dripping, you feel the darkness begin to envelop you once again. Pulling you under, tempting you with the promise of numbness. Your willpower is fading, and you fight to stay conscious, the pain too much and the blood loss making you woozy. Closing your eyes if becomes harder to open them again, the grip of the void dragging you further into the nothingness.

A scream echoes through the air and they drag their horses to a stop, eyes looking to one another for answers.

"Was that?" John asks, tipping his head to try and hear more.

"Y/n..." Arthur breathes, his stomach tightening at recognizing your cry.

The group throws their horses back into a gallop, the animals snorting in protest at having been pushed tirelessly for hours.

"They can't be far; it came from over there!" Charles calls, leading the gang in the direction of your cry.

Thundering hooves vibrate the ground and Arthur feels sick at the thought of whatever caused you to cry out in such pain.

"There's something up ahead, pull up," Charles calls, halting Taima and jumping to the ground, Charlotte following suit with her shotgun in hand.

Arthur fights every instinct that is screaming at him to keep going, to not stop, and to get to you as quickly as possible, the urge tingling under his skin like an itch he can't scratch, but deep down he knows he could put you in more danger by running in blind.

"Is it them?" Arthur asks and John pulls up beside him, Arthur's spare gun held ready in his hand.

"It looks like it, I can't see Abigail or y/n though." Charles moves back, letting Arthur take his spot to see for himself.

With a shaky breath he raises his scope, scanning the convoy but not finding you, he lowers his gun disappointed. "She's not there..."

"Wait, look." Sadie hisses, her binoculars pointed at a tree in the distance.

Following her direction Arthur aims his rifle, and sure enough there you lay, motionless and covered in blood, Abigail moving quickly around you with rags equally soaked in what he assumes is also your blood. Colm paces beside you, his mouth moving rapidly as he appears to be yelling.

Arthur feels like the floor falls from beneath him, the image of you lying bloodied and pale turning his insides to ice. This was Eliza and Isaac all over again. No pain could be compared to the other, not when losing a loved one, but he knows losing you is his final loss. You were his partner, his life, and the life you'd created together was a second chance, a promise of another life, free from robbing and killing. But it had been snatched from him again and he begins to feel this is his penance, for the life he's led, his anger rages towards a God, or whatever deity kept fucking with him, for taking you to punish him.

"Is she?" Sadie breathes, lowering her binoculars and turning to Arthur.

Silently lowering his head, he prepares his rifle, making sure it's fully loaded and ready for the impending gunfight.

"We still gotta save Abigail and Jack." He grunts, turning towards the convoy and crouching low, preparing for a stealth attack.

"Arthur, is she?" John follows suit, his own chest clenching in pain.

"Just focus on getting your family back." Arthur snaps and the group falls silent as they follow him. Their grief for both you and Arthur affecting them all and evident by the sullen expressions they now share.

The gang moves silently through the brush, moving closer until they silently pick off a few stragglers. Arthur is the first to make a move, his grief and rage fuelling his blood lust, springing soundlessly from the long grass he pulls the nearby O'Driscoll into a tight headlock, choking the man to death and barely breaking a sweat. Feeling the man fall limp he lowers him to the ground, eyes already stalking his next victim. The outlaw is a tiger when the time requires it, silent, deadly, and strong, his prey never stands a chance.

It's Sadie who first breaks the quiet air, her opponent managing to call out before her knife plunged deep into his throat.

"Shit!" She yells, drawing her gun and falling back behind the wagon as bullets begin to whip through the air. "Get down!" she warns just in time for John to dive behind a forgotten crate.

"Well so much for being quiet!" he fires off a few rounds, covering Charles while he reloads.

"How far are we from Jack?" Charlotte yells her back pinned to the wagon as she waits for an opportunity to return fire.

Arthur peers through the wood beside her, spotting Jack cowering low on a cart across the camp, six O'Driscolls block the way.

"He's over there but he's safe if he stays down. Charlotte, you and Charles get to Jack, Sadie covers them." The trio nod, making their way around the wagon. "John you and I are going for Abigail, but keep an eye out, Colm knows we're here now and he'll do whatever it takes to get away."

Abigail never thought the sound of gunshots could bring so much relief, hearing the first one whip through the air she thinks fast, using the confusion to her advantage and fiddling with your boot. You're still unconscious and at great risk of bleeding out or going into shock, but somehow, she is reassured know John and Arthur are nearby. She glances quickly to the wagon that held you both and sees Jack desperately scooching as low as his restraints would allow. "Good boy," she thinks, having taught him what to do if the gang was ever in a shootout.

"God fucking damn it!" Colm growls turning towards the commotion and walking towards it. He knows Abigail won't leave you and there's no way you're running, not when you're out cold and losing more blood by the minute.

"Come on y/n, I need you to wake up and start pushing." She pleads, her hands working desperately below your dress to stem the bleeding.

Searching around for something, anything to wake you up her eyes land on the whiskey. Having no other option but to try she tips the liquid down your throat, hoping the burn somehow shocks your system, and by the grace of god it does. You begin coughing and spluttering, still not fully responsive but a the very least conscious.

"Atta girl" Abigail praises, resuming her position between your knees. "If you can hear me, I need you to push for me and push hard."

She's unsure if you can hear her, the gunshots still flying behind her and your mental function questionable, but then she feels it, the tiniest contraction of your pelvic floor, you were trying.

"That's it, you can do this, keep trying!"

Your head rolls back and you groan groggily, clenching at muscles you can no longer isolate as your entire bottom half aches with agony.

John realizes quickly that Arthur is becoming reckless, his heartbreak leaving him with nothing to lose. He breaks from cover, firing off rounds with ease and taking down his targets, not caring that the shots fired back graze his skin. He likes the pain, at least it's a feeling. Pushing on he continues to take out the remaining O'Driscolls, working his way closer to Abigail and you.

Abigail is too focused on you to notice Arthur drawing closer, her words still encouraging you to keep pushing and with each contraction, you come around a little more.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuucckkkk!" You scream when it feels like you're being split in two, mind now fully awake and able to feel everything.

Arthur's head snaps up, his body instinctively turning towards the sound. You're alive, at least alive enough to yell, your sodden, crimson-stained skirt telling him just how close to dancing with death you are.

"Y/n" he breathes your name like a prayer and begins to run towards you, unable to concentrate on anything but you.

"ARTHUR NO!" John bellows, breaking cover just in time to see Colm pull the trigger, the bullet seemingly moving in slow motion as it rips through Arthur's chest.

The outlaw falls to his knees, staring down at his reddening shirt in disbelief.