Chapter Text
They found out later, from piecing together news reports and information that Trelawny brought when he caught up to them again, that some other outlaw used the name Arthur Morgan when robbing the general store. Why he did this was unclear. Perhaps he hoped to use Arthur’s identity to intimidate the owner. It didn’t matter, it was stupid. He clearly hadn’t expected the entire police department, most of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and any remaining bounty hunters to immediately swarm the general store.
But Arthur Morgan didn’t know any of this just yet. He was a little suspicious that something was the matter when he passed Kieran on watch, though.
“They’re letting the O’Driscoll guard us? Good lord,” Arthur said.
Kieran’s jaw dropped.
“Calm down, I’m only joking with you,” Arthur said, before muttering to himself, “Kid’s so goddamn jumpy.”
Kieran was still sputtering behind him when Arthur got down off his horse.
“Huh, where is everyone,” Arthur said to his horse as he fed her a carrot for a hard day’s work. Dutch seemed to be giving a speech at the cliff rather than his usual spot outside his tent, though as he got closer, Arthur realized it was actually Hosea speaking. In fact, Dutch looked like he was crying.
Charles wasn’t with the others, though, so Arthur figured he’d ask him instead of interrupting.
“Charles, what’s going on?”
Charles jumped at the sound of his voice. He stared up at Arthur with wide, red eyes.
“Uh, you okay?” Arthur asked. “Jesus, why is everyone acting funny? Did someone die?”
Charles stood slowly.
“Nice haircut, by the way,” Arthur said, right before he was enveloped in a hug. He staggered back from the force of it. Charles’ shoulders shook from his sobbing.
“Uh, it’s okay, take it easy there,” Arthur said. “What’s going on?”
Charles squeezed him tighter. Hosea had stopped talking by the cliff and was now pushing his way through the crowd.
“Uh, a little help here?” Arthur called to Hosea.
Hosea choked on a sob, then hugged Arthur, too.
And then the whole gang was in on it. Tilly reached them next, then Mary-Beth, then Lenny. John slipped in there too, at some point, and Dutch reached over the crowd and got hold of his arm. Everyone was shouting over one another so much that he couldn’t understand the words. It was too much. There were too many hands all over him, too many people surrounding him. He was taking too many breaths yet it didn’t seem to get him any air. Black spots appeared over his vision and his ears rang. His knees buckled.
Charles wasn’t ready for all of Arthur’s weight to collapse onto him, and they both went down into the grass.
“Give him some space!” Susan shouted. “For God’s sake, back up, you fools!”
“John, help me get him off poor Charles down there,” Dutch said. “Let’s put him in his tent.”
“You can all pounce on him when we’re sure he’s alright,” Susan said.
Dutch and John each took a side and hauled Arthur up between them. His head rolled, but he instinctively got his feet under himself. Good, at least Arthur hadn’t completely passed out on them. Arthur never liked being crowded in like that, but Dutch couldn’t really blame the gang for it. Hell, he’d done it, too.
It wasn’t every day his boy came back from the dead.
They set Arthur down on the cot while Susan lowered the tent flaps. “Thank you, John,” Dutch said. “Why don’t you sit with the others a minute.”
“But-” John started to say.
“Arthur is alive, son,” Dutch said. Alive and healthy, by the look of it. Hosea ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair, and his boy gave a contented sigh. Susan fanned his face. Charles lingered in the tent entrance. “Take Charles with you, and give some reassurance to the others. We’ll get the story out of him soon enough.”
“Okay,” John eventually said. “Come on, Charles, let’s go.”
“Is he alright?” Charles asked.
“He’s fine,” John said. “Arthur just hates it when we all hug him.”
“It’s the tight spaces, John,” Dutch said, shaking his head. He turned back to Arthur, loosening his boots and pulling them off his feet. The spurs were still attached, those wonderful spurs that he gave Arthur that now looked nothing like the ones in the newspaper photograph. Dutch felt along his limbs, but he already knew he’d find no injuries.
Arthur shifted again, and then opened his eyes. “Dutch?” he whispered.
He smiled. “Hey, son.”
“What’s going on?” Arthur asked. One second, everyone was around him and now he was in his tent. Susan and Hosea were both fussing over him. It was kind of nice, but he still wanted to know why.
“You passed out on us,” Dutch said.
“What? No.”
“Yep,” Hosea said, laughing to himself. “Swooned like a storybook princess.”
Arthur groaned. “And everyone saw? Put me out of my misery now.”
“Never,” Hosea said.
“Still don’t know why everyone’s acting all funny,” Arthur said.
Dutch cleared his throat. “It seems the, uh, Pinkertons made a case of mistaken identity,” he said. “Blackwater reported you dead this morning.”
“What?” Arthur said, sitting up.
“Seems you have a lookalike,” Dutch said, handing over the paper. “Don’t know what poor fool got shot there, but…”
“You thought it was me,” Arthur finished. “But why would I go to Blackwater? It’d be suicide!”
Three pairs of watery eyes stared silently back at him. It brought him back to that horrible time after his son and Eliza were killed. How he thought he’d never be able to live with their loss. The fear on their faces… it wasn’t quite the same as that night he tried to shoot himself, but a hint of it was there.
“Hey, you didn’t think I’d… I’m fine!” Arthur said. “I’ve been fine.”
“Of course you are, son,” Hosea said. He gave Arthur a gentle hug, not nearly as tight and desperate as the one Arthur had been trapped in earlier. “We just worry, you know us.”
“Where have you been, anyway?” Dutch asked.
“Exploring out east,” Arthur said. “Just taking a bit of a break, that’s all. I know I had stuff to do, Strauss’ thing and all.”
“Well, you can have an even longer break,” Dutch said. “Right here in camp. Don’t worry about working with Strauss, I know you don’t like it.”
“It’s not a problem, I can do it.”
“Arthur, take the break Dutch is offering,” Hosea said. “You scared us to death, and you’re not leaving our sight.”
“It’s not my fault!” Arthur said.
Dutch laughed, patting his leg. “You’re not winning this argument, son. Now, I’m going to tell the others that you are just fine.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. Dutch laughed and ducked out of the tent.
The gang was waiting for him not far away, anxiously watching the tent.
“He’s okay!” Dutch said. “We don’t know what happened in Blackwater, but he was nowhere near it.”
“Can we see him?” Mary-Beth asked.
“Not yet,” Dutch said, reluctant to overwhelm Arthur again.
“What?” several people shouted. A few stood up, and Dutch did his best to placate the crowd.
“He’s still getting over the idea of us all thinking he was dead,” Dutch explained. “You know Arthur. He likes his space. When he does want company, none of you are going to crowd him. Understood?”
They murmured agreements.
“Good.”
“I think we could all use a drink after this,” Uncle said. “Come on, everybody, let’s drink to Arthur not being dead.”
“A fine idea,” Dutch said.
The gang dispersed to find some booze and company. Javier started playing his guitar, a more lively tune than what he’d likely have played before. John and Abigail, though, led Jack up to Dutch.
“You think the boy might be able to see him, at least?” Abigail asked. “It’s been a hard day for him.”
“Of course.” Dutch turned back to the tent as Jack ran past him and said, “Your nephew is coming in.”
“Uncle Arthur!”
It was the only warning Arthur got before Jack launched himself into the cot.
“Hey, Jack, how are you?” Arthur said.
“I thought you weren’t coming back!” Jack said. “Momma said that, and Pa said that, and Uncle Dutch said you died!”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, Jack. It seems like the newspapers got confused and told a whole bunch of people the wrong story,” Arthur said. “I didn’t mean to worry you, and your momma and pa didn’t mean to, either.”
“Don’t ever leave again, Uncle Arthur,” Jack said.
“Oh, well, if Hosea has his way, I won’t,” Arthur joked, and Hosea swatted the back of his head. “John, Abi, you both alright?”
“We’re alright now,” Abigail said, taking Arthur’s hand. “The boys wanted to ride straight to Blackwater.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t redistribute my stuff,” Arthur said.
“Arthur!” John said.
“What?” he said with a grin.
“We weren’t… I… of course I was upset! I was angry. I wanted them to pay. You’re my brother.”
Arthur opened up his arms and said, “Come here, John.”
John hesitated, then accepted the hug.
“Aw, look at them, finally acting like brothers again,” Dutch said.
“Oh, they were always brothers,” Hosea said. “Brothers fight, but they love each other anyway.”
“Hush!” Susan said. “You two are ruining a moment.”
The party for Arthur’s return was well under way when Arthur finally emerged from his tent, with Hosea and Dutch at either side of him to hold back the crowds.
Of course, they were all staring at him. Everyone except Kieran, who was still on watch, and Micah, who Arthur assumed was off sulking over his return from the dead.
“Now, let him sit down at the fire,” Hosea said. “Give him some whiskey.”
Arthur got the prime location at the campfire, and as promised, the gang kept some distance. They still found excuses to touch him, though. Patting him on the shoulder, squeezing his hand. It didn’t really bother him, since he knew how much they needed it.
Though it was rather amusing how they all turned on each other and tried presenting themselves as the sensible, responsible one in the face of Arthur’s demise.
“I’m telling you, Lenny here cried like a baby,” Sean said.
“Uh, really Sean?” Lenny said back. “Like you weren’t saying it was the end of the world?”
“I’m pretty sure he tried using it as an excuse to get me to sleep with him,” Karen said. “Kept going on and on about how it would make him feel better.”
“And it would have!”
“What about me, though,” Karen said. “I’m pretty sure that would make me feel worse!”
“Ah, you love me,” Sean said.
“Do not!”
Arthur laughed as Karen stormed away and Sean followed her. In about two or three drinks, Sean and Karen would be borrowing John’s tent again.
And then Hosea came over with Charles. “Why don’t you sit down with him,” Hosea said, and Arthur patted the spot next to him. Hosea told him how upset Charles was.
“Hey, Charles,” Arthur said.
“Hi, Arthur. You alright?”
“Me?” Arthur asked. “Just fine. You?”
“I’m alright now.”
Just like with everyone else, trying to talk normally after his supposed death was awkward. Arthur decided to hand him the whiskey bottle. Their fingers brushed against each other.
“You know, if I’m ever allowed to leave camp again,” Arthur started, and Charles snorted on a laugh. “We should go on a hunting trip. Maybe take a few days, keep far away from Blackwater, make sure someone knows where we’re going to there are no mistakes again.”
“I’d like that,” Charles said.
Arthur nudged Charles with his elbow, and Charles leaned into him a little.
“So, you didn’t die,” came the drawl behind him.
“Hello, Micah,” Arthur said, not bothering to turn around.
“You know, I thought I had to step up for you,” Micah bragged.
“Yeah, because that would work out real well,” Arthur said sarcastically.
Micah sneered. “At least when I take a trip, ain’t nobody going to think I killed myself.”
The campfire went quiet.
And Dutch’s voice came from behind Micah, “What the hell did you say?”
Micah suddenly had the fearful look of a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. Arthur tried not to laugh, mainly because Dutch’s face was murderous.
“Listen, Boss-”
“I’d be careful, Mr. Bell,” Dutch said slowly and carefully, “About repeating things that have nothing to do with you and were not meant for your ears.”
Micah gulped. “I-”
“Get out of my sight.”
Micah scrambled away from the fire, doing the smart thing for once.
“Damn eavesdropping fool,” Dutch whispered.
“I wonder if he’ll bother coming back,” Hosea said, watching Micah leave on Baylock.
“If he does, he better be on his best behavior,” Dutch said.
“Come on, sit down you two,” Arthur said.
Finally, Dutch and Hosea did just that. The party began to mellow in the later hours, and people went to bed. Hosea theorized that they were still tired from Sean’s party, and Arthur couldn’t blame them for that.
When Micah got arrested again, having started a drunken fight in Valentine, Dutch told Arthur to put his feet up and relax. When Strauss came up to Arthur complaining about the lack of debt collecting, Hosea chased him away. John practically had to beg Dutch and Hosea to let him take Arthur on a train robbery, and Arthur only got to go hunting because Charles was with him.
But Arthur had to admit it was kind of nice to have Dutch and Hosea working together again, even if it was at his own expense.