LAST CHANCE → sean macguire ✔

four , seven

She felt cold without the fires surrounding her, the burning of everything she'd come to know. She could still hear the Pinkertons behind her, so she didn't let her mare slow until they came to a hill. Laying at the bottom were two horses that Willa recognized. One was John's, and the other was Arthur's.

She did a quick scan to determine that there were no bodies, then she slid off the mare's back.

"You go on, girl. We see how the Pinkerton's treat horses here." She shooed the appaloosa away, then checked for any trails to follow. A rogue spot of blood was separated from the horses bodies, and led a trail up the slope. It was worth a shot, so Willa followed it. John had been shot at the train and the fall from the horse would've made it start bleeding again, so she hoped that it was him.

Willa shivered as she scampered over a few rocks, following the blood trail, when a sound caught her attention. It was a faint sound, like something solid hitting rock. It was above her, too, so she stumbled her way up the slope and around a corner.

She almost ran right into Dutch and yelped in surprise. He whirled on her, eyes flying wide, but he wasn't alone. Micah and Arthur were there, too, bloodied and beaten. Arthur was on the ground, coughing on his back. The whole scene looked ridiculous.

"Willa, I..." Dutch stammered, looking between Arthur and her. She glowered at him.

"What the hell happened?" Maybe she sounded a bit more distressed than she hoped, but it was how she felt. It was like a tornado inside her head. Arthur's hand fell against his chest and he continued to struggle between breaths, "He's not gonna... Oh, Arthur." She fell to her knees beside him, taking his hand into hers.

"I... I gave you all I had, Dutch. I tried, in the end... I really did, Ya know?" Arthur wheezed, then a bout of coughing followed. Willa hushed him, knowing all too well that he has to save his energy if he wanted to last any longer.

"Let's go, Dutch. Leave him. We can even take girly there, Dutch! Come on." Micah almost sounded pleading. Willa blinked through her tears and looked up at Dutch.

"What have you done, Dutch? Everything you've been through... Everyone you've lost... You wanted this?" Her words were venom and Dutch stumbled back, shaking his head.

"No! I... I never..."

He paused, looking at Arthur. Horror and realization passed over his face, darkening it, and he disappeared. Willa stared after him for a moment, then turned to Micah. Her hand moved to her gun, but Arthur placed his atop it instead, shaking his head. Micah drew back, into the shadows, and she heard his footsteps retreating.

"You'll get that... In time. Let him slink off for now... Let him..." Arthur angled his head toward the rising sun, which was casting hues of pinks and blues in the sky. A smile curled at the edges of his lips and Willa tightened her grip on his hand.

"I'm sorry Arthur. I should've done more..." She wondered, then, why she wasn't completely freaking out. Maybe it was shock, or maybe she knew that he would finally be at peace now. Maybe it was because she had been through the experience of death with two father figures already.

Whatever the case, Arthur Morgan was dying, and she had yet to shed a single tear.

He shook his head, looking back to her, "Nah. You did... real good. I'm glad to... have... met you... Willa."

She smiled and he closed his eyes. Her stomach lurched, but his chest kept rising and falling, so Willa took a breath and glanced up at the sunrise. They were blanketed in a warm glow now, like the rays of the sun were ready to take Arthur off to paradise. She smiled at that thought.

"John.. He got out. Just... take care of them... for me. I won't be here, and.... And I know I can trust... You," His fingers tightened around hers, "Take care, Willa." Then he looked back towards the sun and closed his eyes. His chest rose once more, then fell still. She pressed her lips together, sitting as still as possible.

For a long time, she didn't move. She tried to remember every moment she'd had with Arthur. Every bright memory. Then she started to remember everyone else. Joking with Lenny and listening to Hosea's stories. Drinking with Kieran and gossiping with the girls. She thought about Dutch's smile back then, the way his eyes crinkled. She thought bout Molly and her glowing radiance.

And, in the end, she thought about Sean. The Irish bastard that she loved more than life itself. The man who she had almost lost on too many occasions to count.

She stole a glance at Arthur now. He looked peaceful, laying with his hands crossed over his stomach, his chest still. There was no point in staying. No point in risking being found by Pinkertons. She stood slowly and turned away. Arthur hadn't died alone, and that was enough to settle peace in her chest. If he was happy, wherever he was, then she was too.

Just before she turned the corner Dutch had ducked around, she looked back at Arthur's body.

"I'm always with you, Arthur. Thank you."

Then she, too, disappeared.