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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1885
A chorus of shouts and happy utterings of his name greeted Arthur when he rolled into the small, mountain hollow where the gang's summer camp had been. "Arthur!" cried Uncle as Arthur hitched Boadicea near Dutch's large, spacious tent, "Good to see you again!"
"Yeah," Arthur grunted sarcastically. "Me bein' back means you can get back to drinkin' and nappin' all day instead of workin', Uncle. Don't pretend that's not the reason you're glad I'm back."
Uncle's eyes narrowed and he took a gulp from the bottle of whiskey in his hands. His face was very red, and Arthur could tell he was already drunk. "That ain't it, Arthur. I ain't quit drinkin' and nappin' the whole time you were away. My lumbago flared up again and I ain't been the same since. The doctor in Denver says it's terminal."
"Lumbago," Arthur growled, turning away from the old man, his eyes rolling so far back into his head they could practically see his brain.
"Good to see you, Mr. Morgan!" Susan Grimshaw called, sweeping him into an immediate hug. "How's that whore and her baby doing?"
Arthur instinctually bristled a bit at her referring to Eliza as a whore, but she wasn't exactly wrong. Still, it seemed off to think of her that way after all those months taking care of her and getting to know her properly. Regardless, Susan meant well, and he smiled at her.
"Just fine, Miss Grimshaw. Just fine."
"A baby, Arthur?" Mac Callander asked, clapping him on his back as Davey grinned over his shoulder. "That's wonderful. Remind me to share a glass of tequila with you later."
"It's nice to have you back, Mr. Morgan," said Pearson, sipping from a whiskey bottle of his own. Even John and Abigail smiled gleefully in the background.
There was only one person in the circle of smiling faces that Arthur didn't recognize: a young girl hiding behind Abigail, with skin as black as charcoal and a soft-blue dress on her skinny body. "You haven't met Tilly yet," said Abigail from behind him. She bent towards Arthur and whispered in his ear, "Dutch found her not too long ago. Poor thing was wanted for murder and was on the run from outlaws that ain't near as kind as us."
His gaze softened and he smiled at the girl. "Hi, Tilly," he said. "I'm Arthur Morgan. I been with Dutch and Hosea longer than any of these folk, even Marston. I just had some other business to take care of, which is why we ain't met yet."
"It's nice to meet you, Arthur," Tilly replied in a voice that was surprisingly confident and firm. "Will you be staying long?"
"I think so," Arthur chuckled. "We got trains to rob, after all. Speakin' of that, where's Dutch?"
It seemed Arthur's happy reunion with the gang didn't last as long as he would have liked. Days began to fly by. They robbed the train successfully, but Dutch grew concerned the law was too close to picking up their scent, so they moved on, back out west. It meant Arthur was further away from Eliza and Isaac, but somehow Arthur still found time to go and visit them.
