Actions

Work Header

Days left to spend

Summary:

Arthur gets reunited with those he lost.

Work Text:

Arthur can see it, can see the sun rising as his lungs burn in his chest, whether from the pain of betrayal or sickness he doesn’t know nor care anymore. With a last wheezing breath, Arthur prays to whoever is up there that those who survived, those who escaped, do not suffer as much as he did for their pasts. He closes his eyes, ready to face the judgment for his sins, ready to greet death like the friend it had been for so long.

 

He does something he'd never thought he'd do again, he opened his eyes to a bright sky and a familiar voice calling him, a voice that can't exist for it has ceased. But it does, and it urges him to wake up, urges him to see, greets him. It can’t be heaven, can’t be, he killed, he stole, he lied, he lived a life full of sin and he doesn’t deserve to see the safe the sky, bright and calm, grass tall and soft against his neck and cheeks. His chest is light, the trouble of disease nonexistent as he pushes himself to sit.

 

“Arthur, my dear boy,” the voice says, Hosea, Arthur thinks, remembers. It almost makes him tear up as the man he lost so abruptly walks towards him, younger than he had died, almost as old as he was when Arthur first met him, the scars and wrinkles he’d accumulated along the years of their gang vanished.

 

“Hosea,” Arthur whispers, frozen as another voice travels.

 

“I can’t believe that bastard!” outraged and motherly, a voice forgotten, “That-that-”

 

“Bessie?” Arthur calls, standing as Bessie stomps over, grabbing Arthur in a crushing hug as Hosea smiles softly behind her, “I-I,” Arthur stammered, chest tightening as Bessie cups his face, but not the same type of tight that he’d suffered through, this one makes his heart beat with fondness and a type of love he’d forgotten.

 

“My boy, Arthur, you’ve grown so well, my darling,” she muses with a sad smile then adds with a disappointed shake of her head “I can’t believe that Van Der Linde,”

 

“You know?” he asks weakly, eyes trained on hers, afraid she’ll disappear and he’ll sink into the hot hands of hell. Bessie smiles, cups his cheek and smooths her thumb against it.

 

“Yeah, we know,” Hosea sighs, “We watched you, all of you, I-I can’t believe-” he tries, eyes falling to the ground as Arthur turns to him, Bessie keeping a hand over his shoulder, “I can’t believe he let you die like that, let the gang go that far,”

 

“Me neither,” Arthur says, “but… I tried, I tried to make him see, I really did Hosea but he was too far gone,” Arthur explains urgently, feeling a burning desire to let him know that he did not succumb easily to the change, had tried to make things work.

 

“I know, son,” Hosea assures, “Come on, the others are waiting for you,”

 

“The others?” Arthur asks and Bessie tightens the grip on his shoulders.

 

“All who have fallen, so to speak, Sean, Lenny, Kieran, Grimshaw, Annabelle,” Hosea lists, him and Bessie leading Arthur through the field they seem to be in. “Should have seen what Anne was like, seeing Dutch treat you and John like that, almost went down there to give him a piece of her mind,” Hosea chuckles, though sad and a little bitter. The field stretched wide and full of bright nature, trees standing full and sturdy, blues and reds littering the pathway, flowers and plants making the place aromatic and calming. All too close to what he’d imagined heaven to be like.

 

“So all of us are here?” Arthur asks and Hosea pauses for a second.

 

“Not all of us, no,” he replies, “Couldn’t find the Callander’s, nor Jenny” he explains, looking back at Arthur apologetically, “Don’t know what that means exactly, but… I don’t know,”

 

“Maybe they have someone else to go to, Mac and Davey seemed fond of their family,”

 

“Perhaps,” Hosea agrees with a nod, “here we are,” he says, mood brightening as a wooden house comes into view, painted a stony yellow and standing tall and strong above them. Up front, a large table is set up, figures rushing around it, preparing it, Arthur thinks, “Oh, I have a surprise for you,” Hosea says eagerly, a smile stretching over his face as he whistles. Arthur waits, pausing behind the gate that separated them from the house, short and stony, not even reaching Arthur's waist, he guesses it’s more of a decorative thing rather than protection.

 

A bark breaks through the trees, a familiar looking dog running towards them. Arthur can feel his heart swell at the sight, his childhood best friend, his first dog, Copper, runs towards them, tail wagging and behind him, a clean looking Cain follows just as eagerly. Arthur kneels as soon as Copper is close enough, laughing as the dog jumps and places its paws on his shoulders, licking his face happily.

 

“Missed you, boy,” Arthur hums, rubbing the sides of Copper, pushing his face away to breathe for a moment before Copper starts licking again, “I’ve missed you so much,” he coos, letting Copper push his head into Arthur's stomach, Cain wags his tail as Arthur gives him attention, rubbing behind his ears and under his chin, “You too, boy, you’re a good one, ain’t ya?” He praises, standing once Copper had stopped sniffing him.

 

“My god, that was adorable,” Hosea says quietly, probably meant for Bessie to hear but Arthur reddens anyway, “Come on, Cinderella,” he ushers, pushing the wooden gate open for Arthur and passing through.

 

“They’re here!” Kieran announces, making his way towards them with Annabelle and Sean on his heel, “Arthur!”

 

“Kieran Duffy,” Arthur says with a smile, “Never thought I’d say this but I kinda missed you,”

 

“Shared sentiment,” Kieran replies, awkwardly shifting. Annabelle surges towards him, hugging him around the neck and pulling him to her height. Arthur wraps an arm around her, smiling into her hair as she mutters about something or other.

 

“Hey, Anne,” Arthur says as he pulls away, one arm held tightly between her two hands, “I missed you something awful,”

 

“I know, sweetheart, I missed you too, so so much,” she sighs, hugging him once more briefly, “I’m so sorry, darling, so sorry you had to go through that, all alone like that, terrible-you don’t deserve none of it,no you don’t” Arthur smiles warmly, squeezing her hand as she continues on, “Goodman you are, you’ve grown into such a fine man, my dear Arthur, my boy,”

 

“Thank you, Anne,” Arthur mumbles coyly, kicking his feet under him, “I never really got to apologize for… not saving you and such,”

“Oh, you silly boy, no need to apologize, I’m sorry you had to carry that burden for so long,” She muses, cupping his cheek with one hand, “Fine man you are, and to be treated like an errand boy by Dutch,” she spits out, anger filling her light green eyes, behind it, Arthur can see a well of hurt, “You and John, my two boys, ignored and used to carelessly, my god he has become the very thing he hates,”

 

“Became Colm O’driscoll,” Arthur adds lightly, “It’s okay, Annabelle, really, at least John and the others are out, away,” he consoles and she nods thoughtfully. From behind her, Sean waves silently, respectful enough to let the reunion go on undisturbed, “Macguire, my least favorite Irishman,” he jokes, Sean grinning with a feigned huff.

 

“Oh, shut up, English, ya know ya missed me, didn’t ya?” He replies, Annabelle, steps aside, going to Bessie’s side with a smile as Arthur rolls his eyes and hugs the younger man.

 

“I can’t say I didn’t, unfortunately,” he grumbles half-heartedly, giving a hard pat to Sean’s back, “glad to see you with your brains intact,”

 

“Oh, shut it, I died a martyr,” Sean shoots back, face falling serious for a moment, “I would’ve sided with ya, you know, I would, I never liked that Bell, all his Bullshit and cock sucking, eh, never liked him at all, would’ve shot him faster than you can say ‘fuck’”

 

Arthur laughs gently, placing an arm around Sean’s shoulder, “I’m glad to hear, Sean,” he says, turning to Hosea and the two women, “Grimshaw came here too, you said,”

 

“Yes, a bit before you, was mad out of her skull about Micah being her end,” Annabelle laughs quietly, “Calmed soon enough, she’s probably inside with Lenny, cooking I reckon or turning the house over to clean it,”

 

“Some things don’t change, do they?” Arthur replies with a smile, “Can we go see them?”

 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Annabelle agrees, taking a few steps and surpassing Arthur, “Come on, they’ll be happy to see you,”

 

The house inside is much more spacious than anticipated, the floors a rich brown, clean and almost glistening, rugs and trinkets similar to the ones they had at camp before they died scattered all around, a fire burning with no heat, Grimshaw is chatting with Lenny, Lenny himself listening raptly and nodding along. Grimshaw looks mighty different, like the first time Arthur had met her, hair soft and dark, face empty of wrinkles with her sharp eyes and prominent cheekbones, Arthur had forgotten this version of her, young and vibrant before she took the mothering role.

 

Lenny stands once he spots Arthur and the rest and Arthur wastes no time bringing him into a hug. He never really got to get over his death, he was so young, died so horribly, never even saw it coming. Lenny hugs back, patting Arthur's back as they pull away and Grimshaw smiles warmly at him. “Sorry, Susan,” Arthur sighs, “You didn’t deserve that,”

 

“Oh, you silly, silly boy,” She dismisses, waving a hand in the air with a gentle smile, “It’s no one's fault except that Micah,”

 

“Perhaps, Miss,” Arthur agrees as he turns around to survey the home, “It’s all in the past now, I guess,” he says and Hosea nods in agreement.

“Come on, I want you to see something,” Hosea says as he leads Arthur towards a room, the group following them. Inside the room is a mirror, but instead of mounted on the wall it’s placed on the floor. The mirror does not reflect, stays a dull grey and Hosea kneels beside it, ushering Arthur to follow. Once they’re both on the ground, Hosea touches the mirror and it slowly fades into a picture, a moving picture. Arthur stares, dumbfounded as the shapes become more and more distinguishable, it’s John. John, Abigail and Jack. Arthur watches as John and Abigail hug, Jack tugging on John’s coat, Abigail wiping a tear, “This is what’s happening, right now,” Hosea explains, “This is how we watched you,”

 

“They’re safe,” Arthur whispers to himself, a small smile on his face, he turns to Hosea with a questioning gaze “Can I decide who to watch?” he asks.

 

“Of course,” Hosea nods and Arthur looks back at the mirror, watching for a moment longer as John and Jack share a hug before he touches the glass, the picture morphs, and Charles comes into view. Arthur shifts as he watches Charles walk through their camp, furrows his brow in confusion and slight concern, Charles kneels beside a body and Arthur knows it’s Grimshaw’s, he glances over his shoulder towards where Grimshaw stands, eyes fixed on the glass.

 

Charles carries Grimshaw’s body, handling it carefully as Taima comes into view. They watch as Charles rides through the forest, watch as he finds a spot, under a tree on the side of a mountain where the sun is shining. Watch silently as he digs the grave, as he places Grimshaw into it and closes the grave, watches him search for boards, watch him carve out her name and placing the marker. Finally, Charles picks out a flower from a nearby bush, placing it gently and standing for a moment, paying his respect before turning away, riding Taima back towards camp, riding through the trees where John had escaped, finding Thunder, Arthur’s fallen horse and Old Boy. He had trekked up the mountain, leaving Taima behind when the trail became too steep for her, found Arthur's body. Charles kneeled beside him, brushed his fingers across Arthur's dead face to close his eyes and Arthur blinks, feeling the touch. Charles carries him up what’s left of the mountain, lays him down and heads down to Taima to retrieve the shovel. He buries Arthur, lays him facing west as Arthur had once offhandedly mentioned, and like with Grimshaw, he makes a marker, carves something longer this time and places it. He lingers and Arthur starts to hear a whisper, he focuses on it, listening as Charles speaks to him.

 

You were as good as any of us could be. Now it’s time to rest, my friend.’ Charles says as he stands, picking flowers and placing it on the grave, Arthur smiles down at the mirror, satisfied that he hadn’t been left to rot.

 

Arthur watches Charles leave the mountain, head back to the Wapiti tribe, greet Rains Fall and share a few words. Satisfied, Arthur touches the glass again, watching it morph to Sadie, she’s with Abigail, talking, standing beside her horse. They hug for a moment, John coming into view, holding Jack with his good arm with the other bandaged. For a moment, the three converse before they share a hug for a second time and Sadie mounts her horse, waving at them and leaving.

 

“You think they can live well?” Arthur asks quietly, Hosea passing him a side glance, touching the glass to change to John, watching him watch Sadie leave.

 

“They can try,” Hosea answers, shaking his head ”You gave them a chance, and they're going to use it,"