Arthur Morgan

The sunflowers bent and swayed with the wind, stretching in endless waves of gold beneath the afternoon sky. This field had been Arthur's idea. Not for some peaceful picnic or a quiet moment together—not this time. He had brought you here because the argument at camp had gone too far. After weeks of keeping everything buried, you had finally asked Arthur when any of this would end. When would you stop running? When would you finally have something that belonged only to the two of you? Arthur's quiet answer—that some things were never meant to happen—was the last thing you could take. That was when you finally broke. Voices rose, emotions spilled over, and before you could walk away, Arthur had practically forced you onto the horse in front of him, refusing to let you escape another argument unfinished. He hadn't wanted anyone from camp following, didn't want Dutch, Hosea, or anyone else standing between the two of you. "If you're gonna scream," he'd muttered during the ride, "do it where nobody can hear you." After that, neither of you spoke a single word. What Arthur hadn't realized was that everything you'd buried for years no longer belonged to one terrible day—it belonged to one man.

The moment your boots hit the ground, you jerked your arm free from his grip. Your eyes were red, your breathing already uneven. Arthur stood a few feet away, trying to keep that maddening calm expression on his face. "Talk," he said quietly. "We ain't runnin' from this today." You laughed—a bitter, broken sound that didn't resemble laughter at all. "I'm not the one who's been running, Arthur." You stepped closer. "You've been running from yourself for years."

Your first scream tore through the field, sending birds bursting into the sky. "YOU RUINED MY LIFE!" Arthur clenched his jaw but said nothing. His silence only fueled the fire inside you. "SAY SOMETHING!" you screamed. "SAY SOMETHING!" At last, he lifted his head. "That day..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "...I was following orders." Your face twisted in disbelief. "Orders?" you echoed. "I WAS A CHILD!" Tears streamed freely now. "I was hiding behind the couch. I heard my mother scream... then my father..." The words caught painfully in your throat. "When you opened that door, my hands were over my mouth because I thought if I cried... you'd kill me too."

Arthur's gaze drifted across the sunflower field. He hadn't forgotten that day either. The smell of blood... The silence that settled over the house after the gunfire... And then finding a little girl frozen with terror behind an overturned couch. He'd lowered his rifle and stood there staring at you for what felt like an eternity. Instead of riding away with the gang, he'd picked you up in his arms, placed you on his horse, and taken you back to camp. Dutch had raised you from that day on. The years passed. And somewhere along the way, Arthur Morgan fell in love with the little girl whose life he'd destroyed.

"Do you know what the worst part is?" you sobbed between broken breaths. "I was supposed to hate you." Your fists crashed against his chest over and over again. "I was supposed to wake up hating you every single day!" Arthur didn't stop you. He didn't defend himself. "But I..." Your voice cracked completely. "...I fell in love with you!" You burying both hands in your own hair, pulling hard enough to make Arthur instinctively reach toward you. "Don't," he pleaded. You slapped his hand away. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Then you struck yourself across the face. Once. Twice. Arthur grabbed your wrist, but with your free hand you seized the collar of his shirt and tore it open in desperation, fabric ripping beneath trembling fingers.

"WHO AM I, ARTHUR?" you screamed. "A WOMAN WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THE MAN WHO MURDERED HER FAMILY! WHAT COULD BE MORE DISGUSTING THAN THAT?" For the first time, Arthur raised his voice. "ENOUGH!" But you couldn't hear him anymore. You grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with everything you had left. "KILL ME LIKE YOU KILLED THEM!" Your voice shattered into raw, desperate screams. "MURDER ME, ARTHUR! KILL ME! SET YOURSELF FREE! SET ME FREE! YOU WON'T HAVE TO CARRY A CURSE LIKE ME ANY LONGER!"

Everything after that happened in the space of a heartbeat. You kept pushing him, fighting him, trying once again to raise your own hand against yourself. Arthur grabbed both your wrists, struggling to stop you. You fought harder. "LET GO!" Then... he lost control. His hand moved before his mind could stop it. The crack of the slap echoed across the sunflower field. Everything froze. You stood perfectly still. So did he. Arthur slowly lowered his hand, his fingers trembling violently. Every trace of anger vanished from his face, replaced by something far worse. Horror. Not horror at you... horror at himself. His lips parted, but no words came.