Arthur Morgan x Reader

Forty-Three

With your lips pressed into a thin line, you sat on top of your horse and followed Arthur.

He was riding ahead, gaze jumping from house to house while he held the gun tight.

Your eyes were glues to his back.

Whenever you looked at him, a cool shiver chased through your body.

He had shot Micah.

Sure, it wasn't a simple murder. Micah had gotten what he deserved.

And yet, it made you shiver only thinking about it.

He had not flinched at all.

It had seemed so natural for him.

He really wasn't as good of a man as you had imagined him to be.

That didn't change the fact that he was still better than most men you had the pleasure of being with.

Your eyes wandered along the main road.

Footprints and other marks were visible inside the dirt.

Most of them led into the same direction, right up the hill where the orphanage was.

But a few had taken a different path.

Frowning, you ordered your horse to slow down.

Arthur didn't notice.

He kept riding ahead.

Dust followed his path.

You followed him from the corner of your eyes, until he was entirely out of sight.

You glanced into the alley into which the other footprints lead.

Your hand reached down to feel for the revolver that you had kept.

As soon as the cold metal nestled into the palm of your hand, your fingers started trembling.

Even though you knew that it was necessary, you feared to use this gun again.

On the other hand, you had killed your first man successfully.

The bullet could have missed, but it didn't.

You knew how to use this weapon.

You just didn't want to.

"Fuck...", a soft curse escaped your lips.

With a click of your tongue, you turned the horse around to follow Arthur again.

But as your gaze fell onto the footprints once again, you hesitated in your decision.

The path they led down seemed familiar. It was a way out of town, right towards the main road.

A soft shiver crawled down your spine.

Maybe it was just a stupid assumption, but something in the back of your head made you fear that those few footprints led right to the hideout in which Ginny was waiting.

Your eyes jumped back to Arthur.

He was almost at the end of town.

Not a single time had he looked back. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts.

The way he sat on his horse indicated that he was nervous about something.

Or rather someone.

It was as if he was in another universe.

Briefly, Arthur glanced over his shoulder.

He noticed you were gone.

Struck by surprise, he forced the horse to turn around in one swift movement and kept chasing down the road.

A strange mix of fear and anger was on his face.

A cloud of dust followed his horse as he ordered it to start running.

His gaze jumped through the streets and over the buildings.

You did a gesture so that he'd notice you.

He stopped abruptly.

Angered, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Ya supposed to stick with me.", he said, trying his hardest to sound civil.

His anger wasn't dedicated towards you. He just didn't have anybody else to be angered with.

Maybe it was the nerves, but the fact that he had known this way of life for a long time and that this couldn't be his first kill made it seem rather strange that he reacted this harshly.

"I need to check on Ginny.", you said and turned your horse to follow the trails.

He made his horse run next to yours.

His hand reached out for the reins, but you pulled away.

"Your brother will be fine for two more minutes.", he said and made his horse block your way. "But we need to get to Karl. If you really still want him."

Hesitation flickered inside your eyes.

This boy needed you. And he needed you now.

But at the same time it felt like Ginny was about to need you even more.

There was this gut feeling lurking in the pit of your stomach that was like a warning.

A small voice started to scream in the back of your head.

"I need you to do me a favour.", you asked him, eyes lowered. "Go to Ginny for me. I'll take care of Karl's father myself."

For a second, he stared at you, a hint of disbelief shimmering inside his eyes while a small smirk of mockery tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"How do ya want to deal with that all by yourself?", he asked and had to huff. "You'll get yourself killed, sweetheart."

Your eyes flickered.

"Then I'll go to Ginny. You take care of Karl."

"We shouldn't separate."

"But I need to do something."

"You need to he protected."

A dark shadow crossed your face.

"I'm not made of glass, Arthur.", you replied and made your horse walk back to the main road.

Arthur followed with a displeased look in his eyes.

"Ya stay with me.", he insisted.

You huffed.

"Or what?", you asked, teeth bared and anger audible in your voice. "I need to go check on my brother."

"You're being paranoid."

"I've been paranoid all my life, Arthur. And look where that got me. I'm alive. And so is my brother."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he had to take a deep breath.

It was clear to tell that his patience was running thin. He wanted you to understand his side. But at the same time he also knew that you were worried.

It was something he couldn't relate to.

At least that's what he had always believed.

But now that he did what he did, help you for your own sake without him gaining anything in return, he was worried.

He was worried that you wouldn't make it.

Arthur knew very well that his chances of leaving were smaller than he wanted to admit.

But at the same time he was worried that this one chance ghat you offered him would slip between his fingers once you were killed by the townspeople.

"You're right.", he said and offered you the shotgun that was strapped to his saddle. "Take this. Use it. I'll make it as quick as I can."