Blessed are the Peacemakers {[RDR2 Arthur X Reader]}

chapter 23; counting losses

~ Trigger Warning ~
Child loss, miscarriage

By now you ought to be used to the feeling of dying. Holding on by one tiny sliver of hope or maybe it was just your stubbornness unwilling to give up just yet. You'd been here several times before in the last year alone. Only this time, your Arthur wasn't here to save you. In fact, you had no idea what had become of him. Most likely he'd been killed by the Pinkerton's. He was too prideful to go down without a fight. On the off chance that he had decided to go quietly, then he'd be arrested and would be waiting for a hanging date. For all you know, he could be on the rope right now. Time had become insignificant to you in this state of being.

Yet again, you had no idea where you were nor if you were safe. The only thing you do know is that you are warm, almost uncomfortably so. The last thing you remember was falling down at the edge of the road in your hurried flee from the gunfire. The gunfire that had taken Hosea from you and had claimed Lenny. Your heart throbs painfully in your chest as you recall the horrific events of the past. Carefully, you test to see if you're still capable of moving your limbs.

First wiggling your toes then slowly moving the action upwards into your ankles, rolling them cautiously. Making circles with your wrists, you begin to fear what you would find if you dared to open your eyes.

Not prepared for that just yet, you lay there perfectly still and take in your other senses. The warmth is coming from a scratchy thin blanket covering you combined with unpleasant muggy thick air. Familiarity. Saint Denis? It certainly was not your idea of eternal paradise but then again it isn't entirely up to you. A hard headrest keeps your head propped up and you register that you're laying at an angle - rather a leaned back seated position. The room smells like herbs, similar to those you'd always kept on hand when running with and fixing up the boys. It's almost completely silent aside from very distant voices and clopping horseshoes.

A door clicks shut and you hear two sets of footsteps approaching. You're now painfully aware that your clothing has been removed and replaced with a thin white slip and your weapons are missing also. You decide it's best to continue with the theory that you're already dead, still as a statue and await for whoever - or whatever - that's come to collect you.

"Mrs. Morgan?" A familiar feminine voice chimes. You remain unmoving, testing the waters.

"She has lost a lot of blood. It's hard to say when she will make up, Mrs. Lemieux. Why don't you come back later?" Another voice you feel you should know pipes in - a man's voice.

Mrs. Lemieux? If this was the afterlife like you thought then what was she doing here?

Finally you work up the courage to blink your eyes open. The room is dim and at first the sources of the voices are just fuzzy shapes standing before you. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust and realize that the voices belong to the Saint Denis Doctor you'd only seen a few weeks ago. Stood beside him was the ever so elegant Mayors wife that you'd met at the garden party.

"Look Doctor, she's awake!" She cheers.

"Mrs. Morgan? Can you hear me?"

You look between the two of them, utterly confused as to how you had ended up here instead of a jail cell. If they'd found you, surely they would have heard about the robbery and immediately turned you in. Nothing was making sense but you knew you needed to treat the situation with serious caution.

"Uh... yes." You murmur.

"Do you know where you are?" The doctor asks.

You shake your head no, lying in case this turned into an interrogation.