#doeslabrynth

[doe-s-labyrinth]

Saviour

Saviour - Arthur x F!reader | Oneshot

Word Count: 5,308

Warnings: Angst, execution

They weren’t coming.

Nobody was going to come and save you - and the two weeks you had spent in that prison of a cell was proof of that.

The familiar damp, grey walls of the Strawberry jail had become home, and the little you could see out of the window bars was comforting. Two weeks in that grotty cell was enough to make anyone go insane. The little amount of food given every two days didn’t help in the slightest - and your clothes always felt wet from the constant dripping of water on the walls. The cot - now nothing could be as comfortable and homely as your bed back in the camp, but you’d somehow managed to sleep on the dingy fabric for the past few nights. They obviously hadn’t washed it in years, and you could smell every other person that had ever slept on it. The floor would have been cleaner bed if it wasn’t for the disgusting amount of cockroach carcasses you’d kicked into a corner.

Two weeks had been an absolute hell, of course you had been through worse, but the boredom you felt caused the two weeks of rotting away to be a firm contender with spending 3 days of being tortured in an O’Driscoll camp. You still had deep scars from that event, but you hadn’t told the Irishmen a word, and for that you were proud.

But at least then you were occupied. You’d had far too much time to think in that Strawberry jail cell - resurfaced memories that you’d blocked out, theories on how you could have escaped the bounty hunter that had once caught you, a comeback for Grimshaw’s relentless nagging.

Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid you had been to get caught - while wearing a dress of all things. It had become loose during the two weeks of little food and activity - a visualisation of the weight you’d lost, and the mud on the fabric had caused the outfit to become itchy and unclean.

It wasn’t like you weren’t being careful, but the increase of security in the town after Micah’s outburst had affected things. You were simply there to visit your mother’s grave - it was nearing the anniversary of her death and you’d welcomed the distraction with open arms. The tension in camp had increased after moving to Beaver Hollow, and all the secret conversations of leaving the gang was becoming heavy on your conscience. Of course you didn’t want to leave - you were all a family after all.

But the reality of playing happy families had turned stale months ago, everybody knew it, but nobody wanted to acknowledge it. The bank robbery in Saint Denis had really set a damper on everyone’s mood - and with the loss of Hosea, Dutch had no rationalisation in his plans, and it had been costly for everyone.

You couldn’t wait to get away for a while. It was originally meant to be a four day trip - head to Strawberry, visit your mother’s grave, and head back to camp. You didn’t want to leave for too long - the Pinkertons had been hot on the gang’s trail after all, and you didn’t want to abandon them. You’d told them of your plans and nobody seemed too fussed, so you didn’t wait before leaving. You had offered Arthur to come since it had been some time since the two of you had spent any time together. You’d barely seen him after he returned from Guarma, but Dutch had him doing all sorts of work. He was always busy, and you didn’t doubt that if you all still lived in Blackwater then he’d come along in a heartbeat, but things had been hectic lately and you understood that.

The entire trip had been peaceful until you entered Strawberry, and the alone time had been nicer than you thought it would, but things seemed off and the atmosphere was almost eerie. Nobody was very talkative - and for the small reserved town that wasn’t uncommon, but the uneasiness you felt was more off-putting than usual to say the least.

You’d only decided to wear a dress to visit your mother’s grave - you wanted to look nice for her, and she’d always loved seeing you in them even if they weren’t your favourite thing to wear. You’d missed her greatly, and placing some fresh flowers below her headstone was calming.

A nice drink was needed after visiting her, and so you’d decided to head to the saloon. You didn’t plan on having much, just a single bottle of beer to destress, but of course someone just had to recognise you. You could remember the interaction as clear as day, and you cursed yourself for letting it happen.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” The drunk man’s words were slurred and his was accent thick throughout his sentence.

You’d tried to ignore him, all you wanted was to finish your drink before heading to the hotel, and you couldn’t wait to take that damned dress off. But of course he had to try and get your attention once more. You felt his greasy hand on your shoulder and you couldn’t help it when your jaw stiffened.

“Let go of me.” Your voice was clear and threatening, but of course he took it as a joke. The drunk laughed and mocked your words as you took a short sip of the alcohol in your hand.

“Wait, wait - I know you!” He bellowed, his wide grin showed off his lack of teeth.

You stiffened up at his words, and what felt like a hundred pairs of eyes moved to your back from the drunkard’s loud banter. Yet you turned to him, pushing yourself off of the bar you were leaning on, and standing straight as you gazed at him with a sickly sweet smile,

“Oh, you must have me mistaken with somebody-”

“No, I know you! You were walking with those - uh, Van Der - uh, what’s his name? Van Der Loins?” His rambling mumbles cut you off and your breath visibly caught at his words. More eyes looked curiously at the mention of the well-known name, and you were frozen in your place. You were about to move to leave when someone else stood up, pointing at you as he yelled,

“Aye - I recognize 'er too! she’s one of ‘em!” He shouted, his yelling just as slurred as the man beside you.

“That Micah bastard killed my brother,” another voice shouted from the growing commotion.

Your hand shook from where it hovered by your thigh - under your dress was a handgun, but a single pistol stood no chance against this crowd and you wouldn’t trust your shot with the anxiety building in your chest. You prayed to stay calm - but your nerves were getting the better of you as more and more people joined in on the yelling. Why couldn’t Arthur be there with you? He would know what to do - he wouldn’t let this happen.

“Get ‘er!”

Your widened eyes shot to a fairly large man pouncing at you - but thankfully your reflexes were quicker as you moved to run out of the saloon. The heavy downpour drenched you within seconds as you raced out of the bar - your horse was in the stables for the night, sheltered from the storm, but maybe you could make it-

A firm grip on your bicep pulled you back into a set of strong arms that easily lifted you up - you struggled and kicked at the perpetrator as the crowd that had gathered cheered at your capture. You screamed out as your foot collided with the man’s crotch, causing him to drop you onto the wet mud on the road,

“You bitch!” He roared, his fist colliding with your cheek and sending you back into a puddle before you could get up.

The crowd swarmed you, arms grabbed at you as you yelled out, desperate to escape them.

A gunshot rung through your ears, catching the attention of the mob. They cleared a path and the town's Deputy came into view before you, his gun still raised as he took in the scene. But he must have already been informed as he shot you a sickening smirk,

“Someone’s gotta pay for the rat’s actions.”

And so they carried you to the cell and set your date to hang.

You’d learned later on that Micah had killed the Deputy’s father during his mass-shooting - and he had definitely made you suffer for Mr Bell’s actions. The first week had been full of beatings that you were sure weren’t allowed, but the Sheriff would turn a blind-eye whenever they happened. Bruises littered your skin, but the lanky man’s punches were no match when compared to an O’Driscoll’s, and for that you were thankful.

The long wait period between your incarceration and your execution date was surprising, there was only one other man in the jail when you had arrived, and he had been hung two days after your entrance. Jail’s didn’t usually wait - they liked to have a free prison if they could, but you bet the lengthy period had something to do with the Deputy’s ‘payback’. Nobody ever answered when you asked about it, but you had a feeling that they were using you as bait. If they wanted Micah himself then they would be sore out of luck, he didn’t like you very much after you and Arthur became official, but at least this gave more time for word to spread about your incarceration.

The thought that you and Arthur were even together still made you smile, even if it had been a year. You couldn’t deny that the relationship had been rocky lately. The reappearance of Mary in Arthur’s life had set you on edge, and you were uneasy even with Arthur’s endless reassuring.

'We’re just friends’, his words rung in your head like a ghost’s whisper. You wanted to believe that, but you knew their past together, and that Arthur had never really gotten over her. The night’s he’d stay up after he saw her again worried you, and his denial of your comfort had hurt.

The two of you hadn’t been very close since you saw him with Mary in Saint Denis. He’d taken off that morning in a hurry after receiving a letter, and you’d thought little of it considering he was always rushing off to places unknown. Hosea had sent you and Charles into the city with a wagon to get some supplies, and on your way into the general store you’d spotted Arthur. His presence had brought a smile to your lips, and you were about to call out to him until you saw a giggling Mary at his side, her arms clinging onto his.

It felt like you’d been stabbed when you saw them, and Arthur looked the happiest he’d been in months. They didn’t notice you as they walked down an alley into god-knows-where, but you still stood frozen on the pavement, biting back tears and chewing on your lip.

Charles had noticed your shift in mood when you were leaving, but you didn’t spill a word of what you’d seen despite your friend's prying. You didn’t speak about it to anyone for weeks until Abigail pulled you aside one night and made you confess. You’d been acting like a zombie ever since you’d seen the couple, and Arthur hadn’t noticed your upset demeanour with all the time he’d spent out of camp. Those who had noticed had been worried, and Abigail had had enough of your moping.

With a bottle of whiskey and your best friends comfort, you spilled your guts. Abigail listened and offered you her solace - you had to stop her from storming over to Arthur and giving him a piece of her mind. But your mood brightened after that weight had been partially removed from your shoulders, but then the bank robbery happened, and Arthur went missing.

The time without him had let you think about the situation with a clear head - or as clear of a head as you could have with the amount of chaos. You'd managed to convince yourself that Mary would stay out of your relationship - that you would believe Arthur for now. You didn't want to lose him - he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you.

You were the first to greet him when he finally came back and found you in Lakay - even if the two of you had been distant before it happened, his complete absence was a horrible time. You had run outside when you heard Sadie call his name, and he was barely off the stolen horse before your arms were wrapped firmly around his torso. You couldn’t help but cry into his chest when you felt him hug you back - and for a second, everything felt whole again.

‘I’m here now, don’t cry, Sweetheart.’

You'd spent the entire night of his return together, and it was one of the best you'd had in a while. He’d held you so tightly, like he never wanted to let go of you again, and you gladly returned his feelings.

Your brain would always trick you into thinking he was laying in the cot beside you when he was gone, but when you’d reach out for him all you’d feel was the chilly swamp air. And now it was the same once again. You’d imagine that he was right there with you. You could imagine his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer whenever he felt a chill in the night. His hot breaths on the back of your neck, and his snoring that never really bothered you. You even missed the way his beard would brush against you whenever he let it grow out, and the way he would always whisper sweet nothings to you whenever he thought you were asleep.

But now you were alone again, tears rolling down your cheeks with nobody to brush them away.

But there was one thing you had thought of over and over again in the past two weeks. It was almost all you’d dreamed about when you could sleep, and you could only hope that the past would repeat itself.

He’d saved you when you were trapped in the O’Driscoll’s basement, beaten and bloody, and he’d killed everyone there in a rage for what they’d done to you. You would often fantasise about seeing his face through the window bars of the cell, his ever calm expression would be filled with determination to get you out, and then you would run away back to camp together and spend the night holding on to one another like you did back in Lakay.

But the wall had been reinforced after Micah’s escape, and the machinery Arthur had used in their great escape had been moved so it couldn’t happen again. A stick of dynamite would do the trick - but your time was wearing thin, and your belief in your lover was slimming.

It had been two weeks since you were put away after all, or that was what you could tell from the shift in the sunlight you could see. Your hands clung loosely onto the window bars from where you stood, gazing at the lightrays, picking at the few blades of grass you could reach.

A crash behind you caused you to jump, your arms retreating back inside the cell as your eyes moved to the commotion. The Deputy closed the cell door behind him, a large bucket of water in his hands before he put it on the floor, some of the water sloshed and spilled onto the already damp ground.

“Clean yourself up, your hanging in an hour.” his accusatory finger pointed at you as he spoke, and he was about to leave until he turned to you again, “Too bad we couldn’t’ve had more fun.” the slimy man sneered, but you refused to reply as he left, locking the door behind him and shooting you one last snide smirk.

Your breath caught in your throat when the Deputy had finally left, and your knees felt weak as you fell to the floor. Tears brimmed your eyes as reality set in - your time was up. Your shaky arms reached out and pulled the bucket of water closer to your crumpled body. The least you could do was freshen up for your big show. But you didn’t doubt that you looked a mess. Your hair was greasy and knotted from the caked in mud and your skin was bruised and dirty. The cold water stung your arms as you rubbed the dried mud off, the skin was red and raw underneath. Your teeth held your bottom lip captive as you moved to dunk your face in the icy water.

The ‘bath’ was refreshing while it lasted, and you felt a bit better about yourself when you’d finally cleaned the mud from under your fingernails. You’d even managed to wash most of the mud out of your hair before the Deputy returned, rope in his hands.

No words were spoken as you stood and willingly let him tie your hands behind your back. Your legs hurt from their lack of use as he moved you forward and out of the cell, but the relief of finally leaving the small room was enough to mask the pain.

He pushed you through the door of the jail and down the wooden steps, but you couldn’t help but smile and take in fresh air. You’d forgotten how nice the air was outside of the musty cell, and if you hadn’t already been crying then you would have teared up.

But the Deputy spared you no time before he was forcing you to walk again. Your eyes caught sight of a large crowd - and you knew that they were there for you. They were there to watch you hang, to watch 'justice' be served. Even if you hadn’t committed the crime, you were associated with the perpetrator, and they were desperate enough to watch anybody pay for their losses.

The noose was already tied and it hung like a daunting reminder of what was about to happen. The crowd silenced as you neared and the countless amounts of eyes watched your every movement like hawks as you were walked up the wooden steps and onto the stage.

Nobody spoke a word as your eyes met the crowd, searching the people for any familiar faces - the least your ‘family’ could do was be there for you in your final moments. Nothing met your gaze but the angry stares of Strawberry’s townspeople as they awaited your death.

Steady tears glossed over your rosy cheeks as you were placed to stand right behind the noose, the Sheriff cleared his throat, and your breath hitched once more as he began reading from the paper in his hand,

“Fair citizens of Strawberry...” You rolled your eyes at that - this conviction was in no way fair, but nobody would testify for you, not when they knew who you associated with, “for as long as any of us can remember, it is justice that separates us from barbary.”

Your heart ached - not at their savagery, but the fact that the last time you saw your family, nobody had been happy. Times had been so rough lately and everynody was still mourning for Hosea and Lenny. You loved them all, but none of them knew what was happening to you right now - or they did know and they just weren’t coming to help.

The Sheriff’s eyes moved to you and your heart almost stopped at their evil glint, “Yet justice itself can at times be barbaric.”

He stepped forward and addressed the crowd once more, they watched on with interest, ready for main event, “For sometimes a man is so savage, the only way to deal with him justly is by savagery. Micah Bell is one such man.”

You let out a long breath at Micah’s appearance in his script, this was unethical and inhumane, you weren’t exactly innocent yourself, but you weren’t being hung for the crimes that you had committed. You were being hung for crimes Micah had committed. But the people were desperate to see someone swing - and you were the innocent they were about to watch.

“He has murdered, robbed, stolen, escaped and abused our town seemingly with impunity. Today justice catches up with him in the form of Ms Kingston.” the Sheriff’s arm extended out towards you and the Deputy pushed you forward a step before tying the noose around your neck.

He tightened it to a point past uncomfortable and you winced as he let go, the rope digging into the skin of your neck painfully as a few more tears spilled from you eyes. You couldn’t explain the flurry of emotions that ripped through your soul as you stood, tip toed on the trap door in an effort to lessen the pain of the rope. The crowd let out a few cheers before being swiftly silenced by the Sheriff. You swallowed thickly and your teeth bit onto your bottom lip as you put on a brave face. Arthur wouldn’t be scared if he was in your position, but you were terrified. But you had to be strong for yourself - it would be over in a second, and the pain tearing through your heart would be over.

“Your sentence is that you are to be hanged by the neck until you are dead.” The Sheriff’s words held no remorse as his eyes met your pained expression,

“This is not a task we take lightly, it is not a task we enjoy, but it is a task we must carry out if our civilisation is to prosper.” The lack of emotion in his voice was a cruel irony to his words.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the trap door beneath you move - it was only an inch, but it was a sick, taunting taste of what was about to occur, the Sheriff turned to his Deputy and another man who stood next to the lever that held your fate, “Gentlemen, are we ready?” you assumed they were as the Sheriff quickly carried on with your sentence,

“Ms Kingston,” he began, and your breathing became erratic as you prepared for what was to come - but not even the noose around your neck would compare to the pain you felt of having to leave your family behind. Your heart yearned for them and you wished they could hear your subtle prayers of goodbye, “may God, in his infinite wisdom have mercy upon your soul.”

His words burned through your ears as you were forced to stare out at the anticipating crowd, and before you could think another syllable, the trap door beneath you disappeared.

But you fell straight through, the tail of the rope hit against your shoulder, the ends blackened and burnt. You barely had any time to think as a gunshot rung out and a body fell on the stand above you, and the crowd yelled out in screams and yells, quick to run for cover and pull their own guns out.

“Stay quiet,” a voice behind you said as you felt the bindings on your hands be cut, your eyes moved to the familiar voice, landing on a focused Charles,

“Charles, oh my-”

“I know, but we have to go.” He was quick to cut your reunion short as he helped you to your feet and took hold of your wrist, pulling you down the street with him in a qucik run,

“H - how did you know I was here?” Your voice caught in your throat - you still couldn’t believe what was happening, had they really saved you? Your brain hurt from your confusion, you were so ready for your fate, yet not ready at all.

Charles pulled you behind a tree as a bullet whizzed past your bodies. Your hands held onto his arm as he kept you out of sight. You still couldn’t believe he was here - and as you watched dead bodies fall on to the street you knew there were others here too.

“When Arthur noticed you hadn't come back, he started asking around. Figured something like this might have happened, and then we caught wind of a 'well deserved hanging' happening in Strawberry,” Charles did his best to answer your question while he aimed at a man behind a crate. Yet there was little time for more questions as he rushed you from behind the tree and down the street.

Arthur met you at the crossroads, and you couldn’t help waterfall of tears that left your eyes from just the sight of him. Your heart felt like it was exploding from all the emotions that flurried inside of you, and the look in Arthur’s eyes as he saw you only caused you to cry harder. Relief and concern, worry and love - you couldn’t shake the look he shot you as you were pulled over to their hitched horses.

They’d been shouting at each other as you were pulled along, too overwhelmed to keep yourself moving as reality drew you back in,

“Come on, darlin’” Arthur said as Charles let you go so he could mount his horse. Your eyes met Arthur’s as you turned to him and your hands immediately cupped his cheeks, slightly squishing his face. You had to know he was real, and time seemed to stop as his own large hand moved up to cup yours, you’d never seen his eyes look so gentle - his expression so soft in a time of such high pressure. You wanted to leap into his arms, hug him so tightly and keep him all to yourself for the next century or two. The way your heart calmed when you were in his presence made you feel almost lightheaded and-

“Hate to ruin the moment, but we gotta go!” John's voice yelled out, completely obliterating the tender moment, but he was right. Now was not the time, and you would have plenty when you were safe.

Arthur was quick to cooperate as he helped lift you onto his Arabian before getting on himself. His arms held onto you as well as the reins and your head moved back against his chest as he raced to get you out of that hell of a town.

John and Charles were quick on your heels, but went their separate ways as you left Strawberry as to not raise any more suspicion.

“I can’t believe you came for me,” you whispered once you were safe, walking on a unused trail in the direction of New Hanover. You felt Arthur let out a heavy sigh from where you sat leaning against him. The sun was beginning its descent into the sky as you trotted on and Arthur let out a laboured breath,

“We should have come sooner.” his words were heavy and laced with so much guilt that it caused your chest to swell. Your hand reached out and squeezed his thigh in a comforting yet forgiving manner,

“Don’t - you came,” You started, your heart felt heavy, you thought he wouldn’t come and now you those thoughts forced you to carry a guilty conscience - but it was nowhere as guilty as what Arthur felt for leaving you there. “That’s all that matters.” you words were genuine and soft, bringing tears to your puffy eyes once more.

Arthur didn’t say another word until you reached Valentine, the sun had set an hour before your arrival and he left you to tend to his Arabian for a few minutes while he walked into the hotel and rented a room for the night.

Your lips formed a small frown as you moved off of Arthur’s stead, your hands brushing through her glossy coat as you tied her to the post for the night. Arthur came out after a minute and signalled for you to go inside.

“I paid for a bath,” he stood awkwardly and his eyes refused to meet your own, “I’ll bring ye same clean clothes once you're done.” He didn’t bother to wait for a response before moving to walk up the steps and see which room he'd been given.

Your eyes met the floor briefly before you walked through the halls and opened the creaky bathroom door. You could have been shown a bath or a hundred bars of gold at that moment and still chosen the bath, it looked so heavenly and the steam in the room immediately eased you.

You were quick to undress and get in, your body completely relaxing for the first time in weeks. But even with your body submerged in the warm water - you couldn’t help but think of Arthur. Wasn’t he happy to have you back? He’d saved you and yet he was acting like you were a complete stranger. Your teeth bit onto your bottom lip for the thousandth time that day - it was an effort to keep yourself from crying again, but you were already drained of tears from the emotional day you’d had. Your hand moved to your neck where it was still sore from the noose - a reminder of your almost demise.

What if he didn't come? What if he’d left you to swing? But he hadn't’t - he’d saved you - so why weren’t the two of you making up for the lost time? He was leaving you to yourself - he probably thought it was what you needed, but you’d already had two weeks without him, and that had been enough to last you a lifetime.

You cleaned yourself properly before leaving the bath, determined to get to Arthur as quickly as possible and show him how much you’d missed him. One of the bath girls handed you your clothes and it took you less than a minute to put them on. It didn’t take long after that for you to reach your hotel room, your hand hovered over the doorknob for a second - hesitating. But you’d already made your decision. You wanted to see him.

You opened the door to find Arthur sitting at the edge of his bed, his jacket hung lazily over a chair, and his head buried deep in his hands. His head shot up at the sound of you, and you slowly closed the door behind you before walking over to him.

His eyes were red and he was embarrassed as he tried to hide it from you, but your hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up and meet your gaze. You knew why he was like this - it was the same with the O’Driscoll’s, and Arthur was beating himself up over it. He’d promised to never let it happen again - but it had, and this time it was much worse.

“Arthur,” your voice was full of comfort and emotion as your thumbs traced his cheekbones, “its not your fault-” you couldn’t finish as he angrily got up, frustrated with himself, he walked to the other side of the room.

“I let it happen. Two damn weeks-” he cut himself off as he took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself, his hands forming fists at his sides, “I almost lost you.” he was tearing himself to shreds over it. You watched with an even gaze as you made your way over to him, trying again.

Your hand seemed small as it held onto his large bicep, turning him gently to face you. You smiled up at him with glossy eyes, “I’m still here,” You whispered calmly, your heart swelled for this man - his eyes finally met yours as he took you in for the first time in weeks. His eyebrows were furrowed - he didn’t understand how you could just forgive him so easily when you were littered in bruises and scrapes.

“Arthur, I’m here.” Your words were filled with love as you held onto his cheek once more, raising on your tiptoes slightly as your eyes flickered between his. “I’m alright,” You spoke quietly as you held onto him, pulling him closer as you rested your head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, “I’m alive, because of you.” You whispered and you couldn’t help but place a small kiss on his neck.

All you wanted right now was him, and as his arms slowly held you back you knew you had him. In that moment you were his and he was yours, and that’s all you’d longed for for the past 2 weeks you’d spent locked up and away from him. You’d dreamed about this moment, and now that it was finally happening, it didn’t feel real.

You both needed some convincing, so your grip on him loosened as your fingers travelled the length of his arms until they were holding onto his large hands. Your eyes stayed on his as you stepped backwards, leading him with you until you reached the bed. You let yourself fall onto it, pulling him on top of you. His eyes searched yours for any trace of hatred - but he found nothing but love as your hands moved to his shoulders and then his neck.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” you whispered with such purity - as if you were an angel forgiving every sin he’d ever committed. He couldn’t ask for anything more as he hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he neared you. He watched as your lids flickered closed peacefully, and his followed suite as his lips found yours in a tender kiss. He was being so gentle and soft - as if he were move too quickly or too roughly then you would disappear or break.

But you needed him, and you filled the kiss with passion as you pulled him closer, onto the bed. You’d missed him so much and now you finally had him all to yourself. He held onto you so tightly as he laid you down completely on the bed, you showed each other just how much you missed one another in your embrace. He’d never been so loving and you’d never needed him so badly - but that night you were each other’s saviours.

Your lips pecked his from where you lay cuddled up beneath the blankets. Arthur was like a furnace against you and it was the warmest you’d felt in weeks. You were at ease as he kissed over the marks on your collarbones and neck before you finally relaxed in his embrace. Your eyes watched his with love and you couldn’t deny just how much you loved this man - and he felt the same way. Life wasn’t going to be perfect after this - you both knew that, but you could always relish in these moments of pure love. You would never let yourself doubt him again. He would always save you, and you would always love him.

A/N: Hello! I hope you like it - this was my first fic on here with rdr2 and jeez is it a long one. Feel free to send any requests or just send a message, I’m always here for you lovelies~