Dutch's Daughter [[RDR2 Arthur Morgan x OC]]

chapter 35; as the deer pants for water

My Lord, what a goddamn mess...

Everything.

Not sure what happens next. Whole thing has been hard on all of us. 

But most of all on Dutch who seems half crazed by all we gone through...

Arthur closes his journal, looking around the dimly lit Saint Denis street. Daylight has not yet broke, streetlamps illuminating the faces of the few folk resting with their backs against the cool brick wall. Pinching his temple to aid the building headache, he looks down at the shrouded faces. The cities smog fills the air and sends a rattle through his chest, rough and coarse but he forces himself calm, steadying himself back in the saddle.

"Fine night, isn't it?" He tries to start conversation in attempt to convince himself that he's fine but he tips forward over the saddle horn.

And then the first cough hits, followed immediately by another and another. The people scurry at the sound, disappearing down dark alleyways. But he hardly notices, the world suddenly spinning around him as his head feels impossibly light. 

The cough is relentless, rattling him and raking his very bones with an intense pain. It pulls him from his saddle, keeling him head over knees as he paints the sidewalk with fresh blood. There's no time to call for help, to ask for someone to catch him before he's face down on the pavement, the mucus thick blood sticking to his cheek.

When he comes to, the sun has risen, early morning light filling the sky. He's moving, his sore body being dragged by some man he's never seen before with a kind face and well groomed mustache. He only sees him in glimpses before he's out again.

"Mister, are you okay?" 

He hears his voice but can only answer with another coughing fit. 

"Mister, you don't look so good. Let's get you to a doctor."

And then he's being forced to his feet, draped over the kind mans shoulder as he's pulled along. He can still only bring himself to open his eyes for mere seconds at a time. 

"It's just right ahead now..."

The stranger assures him but Arthur plants his feet in the ground. The reason he'd been in Saint Denis at all comes rushing back to him. Charlotte would be waiting for him, wondering why he had not shown up. 

"I need a minute... I'll be fine in a minute." He struggles to catch his breath between the coughs tearing his lungs apart. "See, I'm fine now." He pants, looking up to find the stranger missing.

"Far Away" cover by Christian Larsson

There, in the center of the street, is the most beautiful five by five buck he's ever seen. The street is void of all activity, not a single person in sight, not even a hitched horse and the usual hum of a busy city is completely silent. 
Unmoving, the deer holds Arthur's eyes, taking a few steps closer. 

Confused, Arthur stumbles backwards, tripping over the curb and falling onto his back. But the deer continues it's pursuit, closer and closer until they're practically nose to nose, taking equally labored breaths. For some unexplainable reason, Arthur feels like he's looking in a mirror, seeing himself reflected in the animal. 

The business front door behind him swings open and the frail figure of a young woman with peppy blond curls steps up beside him. When he looks back to the street, the deer is gone and the sidewalk is once again filled with loiterers, wagons clacking down the cobblestone. Somewhere in the distance a train whistle blows long and slow.