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There wasn’t a cloud in the sky over Clemens Point when the members of the Van Der Linde gang woke up. Lenny and Kieran were, of course, the first ones up and active, ready to prove themselves to the rest of the gang.
The smoke hadn’t even begun rising from the main campfire when Arthur got out of bed. Out of everyone in the gang, he was somehow the most and least punctual; he may show up to a robbery late, but he’ll always wake up at 6:30 am every day, even if he had gone to bed at 3 am that night. Thankfully, this early rising habit gave him the time to get his chores and other tasks done so he could have a little relaxation time later.
“G’morning Arthur, have a good night?” Charles called from his tent as he stretched and started to weave a feather into his long black hair.
“Ughhhh, as good as it’ll ever be,” Arthur groaned, hiding just the tiniest of blushes. Arthur knew he shouldn’t be so gruff with the other members of the gang, but being the no-nonsense uncle of the family had more or less become his thing over the past few years, especially with all the younger folk joining. He had been trying to cut down on the cynicism lately, but sometimes the jokes just write themselves. He figured he should probably leave the joke making to Sean, or at least the assholishness to someone like Micah.
Even though he would usually go straight to chopping wood or transporting bags of grain to Pearson’s wagon, Arthur leaned back on his bed and looked out over the camp. Strauss was nose-first in some ledger book, probably wondering where he could find his next victim to send Arthur after. Javier was tuning his guitar, no doubt readying it for another late night sing-a-long session at the campfire that evening. John was avoiding Abigail like the plague, but Arthur didn’t really blame him; it had always bothered him whenever the two of them yelled at each other. Obviously all couples fight sometimes, but the bickering had gone on so long Arthur wished he could just snap his fingers and have them become a happy couple again, if they had ever been one in the first place.
Arthur’s eyes wandered over to the tiny dock with it’s equally tiny canoe. Hosea had thought it a good idea to purchase the canoe for the camp a week or so ago, and the sight of Sean trying to stand in it and falling over comically into the lake made the purchase definitely worthwhile. It had also allowed the gang to get access to better fishing spots, which made Pearson’s stew almost edible.
That’s what I’ll do , Arthur thought, I’ll go fishing. A fish fry tonight sounds pretty good.
Getting dressed took no time at all, and walking down to the dock, making sure to give Micah an obligatory death stare was even easier. Arthur noticed John sitting on the edge of the dock, staring off into the distance, probably thinking of running off again. Probably.
“Hey John, wanna come fishin’ with me?” Arthur asked, untying the boat’s rope from the dock.
“Arthur, you know I can’t swim, right? If that little dinghy tips even a little we’re both goin’ in.”
“Then don’t tip the boat, dumbass.”
“Oh c’mon, you and I both know that’s not gonna happen.”
“Well if it does,” Arthur continued, stepping into the boat, “Your big brother Arthur will be there to drag your ass to shore.”
John rolled his eyes, sighed dramatically and stepped in the boat, shakily sitting down on one of the planks. “Fine, but if we tip… I’m allowed to look at your journal.”
“If we tip there won’t be much of a journal to look through,” Arthur chuckled, patting his back pants pocket.
Arthur, sitting in the back, pushed off from the dock and started rowing out towards one of the small islands not too far from Clemen’s Point. He’d been affectionately calling it “Bird Island”, on account of all the ducks and ravens that populated it. It was a good spot to think on any other day, but not when bringing John along.
“So Arthur, you did remember to bring bait, right?” John asked, trying not to turn around in the boat too fast, since he really honestly did not know how to swim.
“Nah, bait’s for rich folk, we’re using lures,” Arthur remarked, “Plus, it’s easier to see the shiny, pretty lures than some dumb worm.”
“You sound like a crow, Arthur.”
“Oh shut up,” Arthur replied with a hidden smirk, splashing some water with his paddle in John’s direction.
“Hey no fair, I can’t get you back there!”
“Then jump in the water and get me yourself, coward.”
Arthur didn’t need to see John’s face to know his friend was giving him the dirtiest glare. Thankfully before any revenge could be plotted, they pulled up to Bird Island.
“Alright, here we are, pick a spot and get comfy, we’re gonna be here a while.”
John grumbled in agreement and pulled a downed log to the beach so he could sit on it.
The two of them cast their lines into the water and began the waiting game, slowly reeling their lures back to the beach in hopes of catching some perch or trout.
As Arthur had imagined, John had somehow scared away all the fish. He didn’t know how, but he assumed it was something about his aura, or whatever Hosea called it, that just made it impossible to catch anything.
By the time it was noon, the two of them had only caught about 3 fish in total. Arthur didn’t especially mind though, he enjoyed days when he wasn’t robbing banks and killing innocent folk. He enjoyed his personal self-care days more, but he knew he should take what he can get.
Even from far away on this tiny island, Arthur could see some of the other gang members back on Clemens Point. He could easily make out Sean’s bright red hair as he chased after who must’ve been Mary-Beth around Pearson’s wagon, no doubt on another mission to woo her. Scanning over the edge of camp, he also spotted Charles chopping wood. Normally this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary, but Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of the fact that Charles happened to be chopping wood shirtless. Which he normally never does. Arthur suddenly wished he hadn’t asked John to come fishing. He couldn’t make out anything specific, but he had seen Charles shirtless once and the guy was built like a brick wall. He’d seen him knock a man out in one punch before, and the witnessing of it both scared him and made him feel just a little constricted by his pants.
Arthur must’ve been lost in thought longer than he imagined, because before he knew it, John was kicking sand at him, yelling that he had a fish on his line.
Arthur quickly diverted his attention back to his line, reeling it in and trying not to glance back over at Charles. Eventually he pulled in a 5 pound trout, so at least that came of something.
“Hey Arthur?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve never been married, right?”
Arthur laughed, “God no, John. This life ain’t really one that allows for much marrying and settling down.”
“But you’ve had… relationships before, right?”
Arthur reeled back his line and sat down next to John on the log. “Is there something you want to talk to me about, Marston?”
John scooted over a bit to give Arthur more room on the log and reeled his line back in as well.
“I… I don’t know Arthur,” John started, “It’s just that, like, I know Abigail and I have been fighting pretty much since we met, it’s just… I thought we would’ve figured it out by now, even just for the sake of Jack, but it just seems to be getting worse every damn day!”
Arthur grimaced. Relationship trouble was never his strong point, but he’d at least try for the sake of his friend.
“Well, you have tried talkin’ it out, right?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah of course,” John continued, “It just never seems to be the right time to talk. We’re just always doing something else, and when we do have free time to talk it just… never feels right, or we just don’t agree.”
“Oh c’mon, you must agree on something.”
“Yeah, that I’m a miserable no-good deadbeat dad.” John chuckled, resting his head in one of his hands.
Arthur sighed and looked out over the water. He knew John didn’t really mean that, even if Abigail’s point had some validity. It’s hard having a relationship in a life like this, you never know if the person you love is going to return that night. It must weigh pretty heavily on Abigail every time John goes out, not knowing whether to tell their son now or later that his daddy might not ever come back.
“Y’know John, I think I have the opposite problem from you,” Arthur observed, “You’ve got someone who cares too much about you, while I’ve got someone who I’m not even sure cares about me.”
John picked his head up from his hands. “You do? You mean that Mary girl?”
Arthur chuckled and looked back at camp where he spotted Charles, unsurprisingly hard at work, “No, this one’s a little different.”
“Is it one of the girls in camp? You know I’d support you but you are a bit… old compared to them.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Close, but no.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Arthur could tell John was really thinking hard.
“Jesus, Marston, I know I’m dumb but you’re really pushing the bar. It’s Charles, okay? Don’t think too much harder, you’ll break somethin’.”
There was another beat of silence.
“Charles, like the one working with us?” John hesitantly asked.
Arthur’s silence told John all he needed to know.
“Huh,” John began, “I uh… never thought you, y’know, swung that way.”
“Me either,” Arthur admitted, taking a drink from his water flask, “But it took me nearly 36 years to figure it out, so don’t go telling me it’s fake or nothing. I did like all those girls I dated, but I just never really clicked with them, I suppose.”
John chuckled. “Well I guess it makes sense you’re the way you are. You probably rubbed off on me, certainly explains the eyes I’ve been making at Javier lately.”
Arthur almost choked on his water. “Say that again cowboy, you’ve been WHAT at Javier?”
John picked up a stick and began drawing in the sand with it. “Eh, it’s nothing really, Arthur, nothing really at all, it's just that… sometimes when Abigail and I fight I just want to run away with someone new, y’know?”
“Oh no you don’t,” Arthur smirked, wrapping his arm around John’s shoulder, “I ain’t gonna let you run out on us again, you’d find me cold in the ground first!”
John beamed back one of his rare sunshine-y smiles. “Aww, I guess big old tough Arthur Morgan actually does have a heart inside afterall!”
“Don’t push your luck, kid,” Arthur replied, standing up to cast his line out again, “You ever gonna tell Javier how you feel?”
“You gonna ever tell Charles how you feel?”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Hey, maybe Charles can give you a little pain in the ass, if you know what I m-”
“Marston you shut your trap before I drown you myself!” Arthur half-jokingly reprimanded, kicking some sand at his adopted brother.
A bit of time passed. Arthur happened to catch 4 more perch, and John devoted the rest of their time on the island to picking some herbs and flowers, knowing that his skills as a fisherman were almost completely useless.
By the time the sun was going down, John returned with a bundle of burdock root and purple flowers.
“Hey uh, Arthur?”
“Hm?”
“Are you ever uh, gonna actually tell Charles or anyone else at camp how you feel?”
Arthur sighed and packed up his fishing pole. “Probably not. It took most of my effort just now to tell you because I knew I could trust you, so you’d imagine what it’d be like to tell someone like Micah, let alone Dutch and Hosea.”
“Aren’t Hosea and Dutch together?” John asked, packing his herbs and flowers into the boat.
“Haha, very funny Marston, they’re just good friends, they’ve been that way for a long time. I would’ve thought you would know that.”
“Well that’s certainly strange, I never knew “good friends” kissed each other on the mouth.”
Arthur stopped what he was doing. “Dutch and Hosea? They’re a… a thing? I thought Dutch and Molly… Hold on a second…”
John wholeheartedly laughed. “Jesus, Arthur, I thought I was slow to get things but I think you just broke the world record for ‘slowest time a man’s taken to figure out his adopted fathers are homosexuals’. All those smart reflexes went to your Deadeye skills instead, huh?”
“Alright now I’m going to drown you in your sleep instead.”
“I’d like to see you try,” John beamed, hopping into the boat, almost tipping it over, “Plus, if you kill me now, who’s gonna help you kick Micah’s ass when you come out to everyone?”
Arthur turned his head away so John couldn’t see his smile. “Let’s just get back to camp first and give these fish to Pearson. I’m almost terrified to see what he does with them.”
Arthur and John rowed back to Clemen’s Point with minimal water damage to their clothing, at least on accident. John, apparently moved by Arthur’s mini-therapy session, made a beeline to Abigail and gave her the bouquet of purple flowers he had picked. Arthur could see her blush all the way from the dock.
“Had fun on your fishing trip, Arthur? I’m surprised you convinced John to come out with you on the water.” Hosea, sitting under a tree, book in hand, called out to Arthur as he made his way to Pearson’s wagon.
“Yeahhhh it was alright; John and I got to talkin’ about some stuff, and we caught some pretty good fish, so expect them in the stew a few weeks from now.”
Hosea grimaced, scrunching his nose. “Can’t wait for Pearson to overcook them too. Oh well, at least we’ll have something to eat.”
Arthur cracked a smile and sat down next to his adopted father under the tree.
“Hey Hosea?”
“Hm?”
“Are you and Dutch, y’know…?” Arthur asked, making a lot of vaguely suggestive motions with his hands, none of which Hosea could gather meant anything literally, but he understood what Arthur was getting at.
“Heh, well I was sure it was going to come out at some point,” Hosea said, closing his book and resting it on his lap, “Yes, Arthur, the two men who have raised you since you were 13 are indeed romantically involved with each other.”
Arthur leaned back on the tree. “Huh, I guess it makes sense. I just… I just wanted to make sure Marston wasn’t lying ta’ me again, y’know?”
Hosea chuckled, brushing his gray hair back into its place. “Oh don’t you worry Arthur, John doesn’t need to lie; and I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on.”
“Eh, well, I’ve got my mind on other things, I guess.”
“Oh? Do you need to talk about something?”
“Not really,” Arthur began, “I mean… it’s just that…”
Hosea placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay son, take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Arthur felt a tear well up in his eye. Between his two adopted fathers, Hosea had always been the one that Arthur knew he could come to with his non-outlaw related problems. Maybe it was his calm, almost flamboyant mannerisms, but it made Arthur, and he was sure plenty of the other members of the gang too, feel like you could trust him like a father.
“I… I’ve been thinkin’. About… things…”
“What kind of things?”
“Well, love things, I guess. ‘Cause I mean… I’m getting up in years, and I look at people like John with Abigail and Jack, and you and Dutch, and I just keep wonderin’ when I’m gonna meet someone, y’know?”
“Ah, those kinds of problems,” Hosea mused, scratching his chin, “I remember being your age and thinking the same things. Even when I was with Bessie I was thinking those same things. It’s hard to know when you’ve found ‘The One’, Arthur. I loved Bessie, I really did, and I thought she was my One for a long time, but there’s something about Dutch that I just clicked with all those years ago that I could never get enough of. So now I’m here, with the rest of ya’ trying to make sure you all don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Arthur nodded his head and started drawing in the dirt with a twig.
“But that’s enough about my sordid old past,” Hosea continued, “Is there something that’s happened that made you think about all this?”
“Well yeah, I told you, I’m getting up there in age and-”
“No, I heard that Arthur, I mean is there someone you’ve met that’s made you feel this way?”
There was a brief moment of silence. “Yes.” Arthur muttered.
“Do I know them?”
“Mhm.”
“It isn’t John, is it? I know you two are pretty close, but I’m not sure how… close.”
“What? God no, Hosea, it’s not like that,” Arthur proclaimed, looking around to make sure no one was listening in, “It’s… Charles. Charles, like the one we work with, the one over there.”
Arthur pointed over to where Charles and some of the rest of the gang were hanging around the main campfire. It had become dusk by now, and the gentle orange light from the fire made Charles’s dark skin look like it was glowing.
“Hm I see,” noted Hosea, “Have you told him how you feel?”
Arthur snickered, “Y’know, John asked me the same question earlier. I didn’t even know you and Dutch were together, so no, I haven’t.”
“Well whenever you want to, I’ll be behind you.”
“Thanks… dad.”
“Oh come now Arthur, you don’t have to get all mushy on me, just be confident and speak from the heart and you’ll have no trouble at all.”
Arthur sighed. “Thanks. I’ll… I’ll try to remember that.”
The rest of the evening passed normally. Pearson served everyone stew for the Nth time in a row and Uncle roused everyone’s spirits with another vaguely sexual song as they sat around the firepit. Charles was too invested in his dinner to see Arthur shooting glances at him. Arthur knew he didn’t have to tell Charles how he felt, but the constant burying of his emotions was beginning to drive him insane.
Arthur began thinking about ways he could confess his feelings. He could always ask Charles to go hunting with him, but it’d probably be a bit awkward to profess your undying love next to the corpse of a recently deceased deer, so Arthur scrapped that one. He could always just invite him to his tent and tell him there, but then Strauss, who’s tent was right next to his, would definitely hear them.
By the time Arthur came to a conclusion, everyone had settled down and were now just enjoying each other’s company around the fire. Even old Uncle, who was usually the first to a song, was silently leaning back on the grass, already half-finished with his second bottle of whiskey. Nearly everyone was there, and the thought of coming out to that many people at once frightened him, but Arthur knew he just needed to get it over and done with, then everything would be better, right?
Arthur set his mostly empty bowl down on the grass, stood up, and cleared his voice.
“Uh, everyone, I have a, uh, announcement to make.”
“You’re pregnant?” Joked Sean from the other side of the fire, causing a few giggles to be heard.
“Haha very funny Sean,” Arthur continued, rubbing his hands together, “But this is important. It’s, uh, something that I’ve been thinkin’ on for some time now, and I felt like I needed to get it off my chest.”
“Arthur, my boy,” came Dutch’s voice from behind as he sat down on the log next to his adopted son, “You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“No! No, god no, it’s not anything like that. I just… I just… I don’t know how to say it.”
“Well then just say it as simply as you can then,” Lenny piped up from next to Sean, “That usually works best for me.”
There was a short pause.
Arthur took a deep breath. “I…well… I like… men.”
The pause after Arthur spoke might’ve only been a few seconds, but to Arthur it felt like years. His eyes kept bouncing around to the other gang members, trying to read their expressions before they spoke. His eyes eventually fell on Charles, who’s expression hadn’t changed since Arthur’s announcement, although it might’ve been his imagination, but he could swear there was the faintest twinkle in his eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, the silence was broken.
“Same.” Came Bill’s hoarse but quiet voice as he took another swig of his drink. There seemed to be a collective sigh from the group.
“Jesus Arthur, I thought you was going to tell us that you were dyin’ or somethang.” Said Sean.
Arthur chuckled timidly. “Nah, you’re gonna have to wait plenty more years before you see me go down.”
“Well that’s good, son,” Came Dutch’s warm voice again, “I’m glad you got that off your chest.”
Arthur chuckled again, this time with a bit more confidence. “I mean,” he continued, “I like women too, I just wanted to say this ‘cause I didn’t want y’all to make a big fuss if you ever see me bein’ sweet on another man, y’know?”
There were lighthearted chuckles around the fire. It was pretty obvious that this whole situation was really awkward for everyone involved, but Arthur could tell that they were all at least trying to be supportive, so he sat back down and took a few more deep breaths.
Some time passed and most of the people around the fire had left to go to bed. Arthur had been feeling a lot more relaxed, now that his big secret was out, but at the same time he knew that once Micah heard about it there’d be a whole new line of harassment coming Arthur’s way. Arthur hoped that maybe, just maybe, if Micah was being an asshole to him about this issue now, that Dutch may finally come to his senses and kick the bastard out of the gang. But getting Dutch to go back on his word was like trying to tell a bird not to fly, so Arthur didn’t get his hopes up too much.
Soon enough it was nearly 2 am, and everyone figured that they may as well go to bed. As Arthur was settling down, he heard Dutch’s voice half-whisper from his tent.
“So uh, Arthur, about what you announced at the fire tonight…”
“Yeah, Dutch?”
“You mentioned bein’ sweet on a man. You found someone?”
Arthur felt his cheeks heat up fast and consciously moved his head so Dutch couldn’t see.
“No. I was just, uh, sayin’... like in the future, y’know?”
Arthur heard Dutch chuckle to himself. “Y’know Arthur, considering all the time you spend with Hosea I would’ve thought you’d be better at lying. I won’t press it though; take your time, I certainly took mine.”
Arthur heard Dutch’s tent close and breathed a sigh of relief. Coming out to everyone about his attraction to men was already a lot, coming out about which specific man he liked was just a little too much for one evening.
That night Arthur dreamed that he was looking down on three houses facing each other in a wide, open field of grass and lavender. Off to the side of the houses was a field of plants and other herbs and a small wooden chicken coop. There was a big lake not too far away with a dock and a large fishing boat. It reminded him of the area near Big Valley. Sitting on the porch of one of the houses was Dutch and Hosea in twin rocking chairs, Dutch just basking in the sun and Hosea nose deep in some book. Even from Arthur’s far away point of view, he could see a glass of something cold in Dutch’s hand. It was nice to see his fathers relaxing as opposed to what they usually have to deal with.
Sitting on the porch of the second house was John and Abigail. Abigail seemed to be showing John how to sew, who must’ve been doing a spectacularly bad job beforehand. Jack was there too; he was chasing some big golden dog around the field, throwing a big stick for the pet to catch and bring back. All three of them were smiling and laughing at some unheard joke. Arthur felt happy for them, and he wished he could be like them. Maybe someday.
Arthur looked to the porch of the third house and saw no one there. He came closer, and to his surprise, there was a tiny carving of a deer standing at the top of the steps. Next to it was a same sized carving of a wolf. Arthur felt a strange pull to the carving of the deer and he reached down to pick it up. As he did so, he saw a hand out of the corner of his eye pick up the wolf carving. As he stood back up with the deer in his hands, he saw that it was Charles who had picked up the wooden wolf. The two men were standing mere inches apart, eyes locked on each other. Arthur so desperately wanted to kiss Charles, even if this one was just a figment of an overactive and horny imagination. But instead of a kiss, Charles took Arthur’s free hand, led him up the steps of the house to the porch, and sat him down on a large wooden chair next to his own. Neither Charles nor Arthur spoke a word to each other, but the feeling of Charles’s large, warm hand on Arthur’s own as they sat and looked out over the lake together as the cool air wafted past them made Arthur feel an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time: contentedness. The feeling was so comforting he even forgot that this was all a dreamed-up fantasy. Arthur wished he could skip having to tell Charles that he liked him and just go straight ahead to this perfect moment. But Arthur knew that he’d just have to get it over with, like with his coming out. But thankfully now, with the thought of (just) about everyone behind him, he knew he could do it.