Arthur Morgan did not intend to survive when he gave his hat to John Marston and stayed behind to gain his redemption. As he crawled towards his final resting place, he never intended to wake up again.
But he does wake up. Thanks to time travelers F...
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2021
"Jackson goddamn Linton!" Arthur cried, slamming the barn door open.
"What the fuck's got into you?" Jackson asked in surprise, poking his head out of the horse stall he'd been cleaning.
"You're the damn historian," Arthur growled, grabbing the pitchfork Jackson had been using and throwing it to the floor. "You know damn good and well who Levi Cornwall is, and you decided to go behind me and Tori's back to take the man's money."
"If this is about the loan, I-."
Arthur seized Jackson by the collar of his shirt and threw him to the ground, right into a pile of horse shit. "You know goddamn well it's about the loan!"
Jackson looked livid. "Don't you fucking touch me, you asshole!" He jumped to his feet, crunching his fingers into a fist. Before Arthur could react, he'd put his entire weight behind his fist and socked Arthur right across the jaw.
Arthur felt his lip bust, and a small trickle of blood oozed from his mouth. Touching his lip gingerly, Arthur made his own fist with the other hand. At the sight of the bright crimson blood, he saw red. "You son of a bitch," he hissed.
Trembling with rage, Arthur stalked forward.
Realizing what was happening, Jackson turned on his heel and sprinted for his life down to the doors at the other end of the barn. His extra body weight slowed him down, however, and Arthur found himself gaining on him as Jackson ran like his life depended on it towards the road that led to Tori's house.
"Tori! Tori!" Jackson screamed desperately. Arthur could see him looking fearfully over his shoulder for dear life. His eyes bulged with horror as the distance between them began to shorten. Arthur was positively murderous.
Fortunately for Jackson, right as they reached the front steps to Tori's house, Arthur began to feel as if his chest were very, very small. In spite of all his recovery thus far, he found himself coughing severely. As he tried in vain to lift a foot to go up the steps, he felt his airway close, and he fell forward in exhaustion, hitting his head on the heavy, wooden steps as the coughing started.
This was the most severe coughing attack he'd had in a while. His vision began to blur, and something wet trickled down his aching forehead. When it flowed into his eyes, Arthur realized it was his own blood, seeping from a wound in his forehead, caused by the fall.
"Jesus Christ, Jackson! What the hell happened?" Arthur heard Tori ask worriedly. Her gentle hands reached down to cradle Arthur's head as the coughs continued to rip through his entire body. His hand desperately clutched at her porch railing as he fought to pull air into his diseased, damaged lungs.
Unfortunately, it was all for naught. No matter how hard he fought, the coughs wouldn't go away. The world was growing black. Without quite knowing what was happening to him, Arthur lost control and passed out.
