Ghosts of the Past [ RDR2 - Arthur Morgan ]

Chapter 23 - Fevers

A/N: extra little chapter this week, got a big burst of inspiration! Also just wanted to thank all my old and new readers for interacting with the book! I read all your comments and it really gives me motivation to keep going!

Additionally; though I bet if you're reading this one you will probably have already started reading GreenAppleWritting's 'The Wild Wild West'. but please go check that out if you haven't already! I'm obsessed, and the writing is amazing!

Word count - 1900
PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT!

As the sun graced back over the campsite, there was an air of hush. The current state of the gang's enforcer was hanging in the balance. Every breath was taken in complete silence. The building fear that the men may be digging a grave very soon made all those around sit in tense quiet. The only noise that was breaking the stony silence was Rosemary Leveson and Orville Swanson, the Reverend's, quiet hushed argument.

Many people strained to listen in, trying to catch some notion of the current status of the beloved Arthur Morgan, who was still in restless sleep within the wagon. "I'm telling you." The reverend insisted "One more dose will not get him addicted. He's in pain. He needs the rest."

"And I'm telling you no." Rosemary whispered in return "He can't survive this if his body's too spaced out to fight it."

The Reverend seemed intent his way was best as he didn't yet give up. "And he won't survive it if he goes into shock!"

"He got all the way back here on horseback! He ain't going into shock." Rosemary snapped, still in undertones as not to wake Arthur "You know what we need to focus on right now is his fever, not the pain. Pain management can be done without your beloved morphine."

The pair were arguing on either side of Rosemary's study table, littered with open medical journals. The apothecary drawers were laying askew, some opened out the way, some opened towards the inside. Herbs and remedies piled in a mess at the other end of the table, mortar and pestle filled with some kind of solution.

Inside the wagon laid Arthur. Still asleep, though his furrowed brow told the internal struggle of his nightmare filled sleep. One of his hands was laid off the bed, open as though it had been holding something before, but was now left empty and cold.

It was Dutch who took it upon himself to get an update in Arthur's condition. Which seemed critical from the two doctor's arguing. "Everything okay?" He asked, a hushed tone as well, mimicking that of Rose and Swanston.

Both of them paused mid argument. But it was the Reverend who answered "Mr Morgan's fever has caught." He explained "And unfortunately Miss Levenson's extensive medical supplies doesn't include Tincture."

Swanston's sardonic reply in the face of Arthur's illness seemed to get the better of Rosemary's anger. As for the second time in only a few days she snapped once more at another person. "I'm doing my best here, Swanston." She spoke shortly, sending a glare towards the other man "At least I have something other than morphine to give him. Your solution is just to keep him dosed up till he dies, I s'pose?" Shutting the book in her hand with a snap, she stuffed it back into one of the larger Apothecary drawers.

"I didn't mean he will die. All I said was we should consider the possibility!" The reverend argued, Dutch's presence once again being ignored in favour of the two arguing.

"He ain't gone die, you pessimistic prick." Rosemary growled, "And when he's back up and livin', I won't make him an addict to the foul stuff."

Stepping in between the two before it got any louder, Dutch held up his hands for calm "Now now, we don't need to go biting each other's heads off. Tincture. Where can we get that?" Dutch asked calmly. Trying to maintain composure.