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photo1030 · 1 year ago

Note

Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda

Hi, Kids!

So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.

**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.

LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND

Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life.

*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.

Masterlist

Tagging: @daisybvck

The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately.

Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you.

Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same.

You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.

Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.

You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?”

Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.

“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”

A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition.

“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”

Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.

“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you.

“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.

Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.

Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right.

Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”

A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little.

“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now.

“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”

You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.

Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.

You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.”

‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice.

“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic.

“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”

Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness: he can never say no to you.

“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.

The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.

Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home.

Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.

“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time.

“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.

“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.

You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.

“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink.

Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.

“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge.

Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now.

You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.

Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life.

The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down.

“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.

The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.

You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him.

“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”

“Interesting,” muses Robert.

“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.

“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.

“I do.”

“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”

“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly.

“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.

“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.

“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again.

Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table.

“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse: do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?

Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave.

The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.

“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.

“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason.

“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?”

“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”

Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past.

When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snaps.

Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming.

“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.

“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips.

“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation.

“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips.

“No?”

“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.”

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”

“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you.

“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.

“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter.

—---------------------------------------------------

Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.

After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek.

Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”

“A beer, please.”

“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task.

You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.

“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.

“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you.

“Robert is about to get on a train.”

“Mmhmm”.

“Arthur-”

“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”

“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.

“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.

“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all.

“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.”

Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.

“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.

“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.

Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship: the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all.

Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.

The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either.

“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey.

“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.

He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it.

And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now: you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity.

With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.

The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors.

“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender.

With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door.

Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger.

“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you.

“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.

“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street.

“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”

“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around.

But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.

Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek.

Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core.

Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next.

Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips.

Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.

Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath.

With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office.

“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.

“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger.

“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.”

Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you.

He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.

“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes.

He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.

When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

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thedo0zyslider · 2 years ago

Text

Trapped - 5k words

Jimmy is trapped in his jail cell, and has quite the unfun time.

Or: A more angsty reading of the stream Fwhip was fired on.

A03 Link

When The Sheriff built the Tumble Town jail, he was not expecting to be the one locked inside it. It was quite ironic, an authority figure jailed like the criminals he swore to catch. Or maybe he was just like those people, deep down. But that wasn't the point, he was just like any other upstanding citizen. And it wasnt why he was locked behind bars. There wasn't even a reason, really. Jimmy’s fellow rulers thought it was quite funny to mess with him, and today that had apparently involved trapping him in the empire's jail.

It had started with only a few people coming over, not with the intent to tease him originally. Fwhip has stopped by for a visit first, saying something about the Gobland's prisoner and that he needed to be dealt with today. After they'd worked out the details of the agreement the two restored to friendly chatting as they walked through Tumble Town. Fwhip offered to donate some iron and anvils for Jimmy’s railroad, as he had collected plenty in the caves and would continue to find more. (Isn't it funny, the same iron that Fwhip offered Jimmy would later try to steal) If Jimmy was really in need of the ore Fwhip also said he could get the Sheriff in contact with False. The blonde had been meaning to meet the mysterious ruler of Cogsmeade. Though she seemed pretty skittish and Jimmy didn’t want to give a bad impression, so he'd avoided showing up at her empire randomly. Scott, her neighbor, said she was friendly enough when you got to know her. But Jimmy had been so busy in his own empire, and with Joel becoming a constant nuisance he hadn’t had the time to schedule a meeting with False.

As they were discussing this, Jimmy expressing gratitude over the offer and trying to work out a time to meet False, the flap of wings were heard overhead. The Sheriff and his deputy looked up to see Gem swooping down, butterfly wings shining in the bright sun of the mesa. She landed a few feet away, more graceful than most of them could, though natural wings were probably more reliable than elytra. Jimmy tipped his hat at his ally with a "Howdy!" while Fwhip ran over to Dawn's Princess, tail swishing in joy as he greeted her.

"Hi Gem!" Fwhip smiled his toothy smile, running around her legs like an excited dog. He acted like a dog a lot actually, now that Jimmy thought about it.

Gem laughed at the goblins' antics, folding her wings against her back. "I missed you too, Fwhip." The smaller beamed at that, jumping onto Jimmy’s shoulders when they reached where he was standing. The Sheriff paid no mind as Fwhip perched on his shoulder like some kind of bird. It wasn't an unusual sight, as Fwhip had begun doing it a few weeks into their partnership. It was one of his quirks. He might be the tallest goblin, standing at over four feet (which was apparently rare for his species) but he didn't weigh much, he was only the size of a human child after all. He didn't weigh much to Jimmy anyways, someone like Shelby might have a harder time supporting several pounds of extra weight on their shoulder for more than a few minutes.

"Jimmy, do you have some orange terracotta? I need some for roofs." Gem asked, only glancing at the other person now on his shoulder. "I can give you some honeycomb in return."

"Of course!" He responded, glad to do another trade deal. The Sheriff liked trading, it made him feel helpful. "Lemme go get it for you, doll." He added a bit of southern twang into his voice, winking with a tip of his cowboy hat. Gem fondly rolled her eyes at the nickname, it was one of the many he'd given her jokingly once. They’d ended up sticking and it was common to hear Gem be called things like "sweetheart" and "sugar" by her ally.

Fwhip's tail flicked in amusement, then he jumped down from Jimmy’s shoulder without a word, understanding the Sheriff probably wanted him off now. It wasn't that Jimmy couldn't carry him, he could. It was just a bit too much weight to carry on his shoulders sometimes, and it tended to leave him more exhausted than, say, carrying Fwhip bridal style. Not that he'd done that. The goblin wanted to talk to Gem anyway, since he ran to her side instantly.

His two friends chatted about something as they followed Jimmy to his storage room. The building was a work in progress, and took a while to find anything, but it would get better in time.

Jimmy found the orange terracotta within five minutes, which is faster than he'd found something the other day. Either the chests were becoming more organized or he was just getting good at shifting through the mess.

"Are you sure honeycomb is okay? I've given you that a lot recently." Gem asked once he returned with the terracotta, five stacks in his arms.

"It's fine Gem, really." Jimmy smiled, handing her the trade items. Gem returned his smile, beginning to shift through her inventory. After a few seconds of looking her brows furrowed. "Shoot!" Gem exclaimed.

"Did you forget to bring honeycomb?" Fwhip asked, snickering.

"Yes!" Gem sighed, earning a chuckle from The Sheriff.

"I'll be back." She said, spreading her monarch wings. Gem was quickly airborne again, flying back to her empire to retrieve her side of the trade. Jimmy knew it would be a quick trip, the flight to Tumble Town to Dawn and back only took about thirty minutes. It was also a sunny day, and Gem got more powerful in sunlight. The journey was bound to be a lot quicker today.

While they waited for Gem to return, another person saw it fit to visit.

The next visitor was more colorful, a man claiming he’d just wanted to see what his favorite sheriff was up to, and was totally unaware of the guests he had. Scott also said he was sick and sounded horrible, so he wouldn’t be chatting much. Jimmy was glad to hear that, thinking maybe his visit would be short; even if the man ended up lying out of his ass about the no talking part. Jimmy didn’t exactly believe Chromia’s ruler on, well, anything he’d said; but decided there was no harm in his friend staying for a while, having people over once in a while could be nice.

That was until Sausage showed up. Yep, having people over wasn’t nice anymore. The brunette had ruined the whole concept by just existing in Jimmy’s biome that day. Sausage seemed intent on staying too, flirting up a storm with Scott at his newly built saloon. Chromia’s ruler flirted right back of course, Scott being, well, Scott. Jimmy watched them from the entrance of the tavern, sighing internally. There went his afternoon meeting with False.

Gem arrived shortly after the other two’s entrance, finding the small group in the tavern. She gave the Sheriff what he was owed for the trade, before going to join the little conversation.

He was honestly getting a tad annoyed with his fellow rulers. He had plans today, and all the unexpected company was interrupting it. He was The Sheriff , he had responsibilities and a job to do, for Cod’s sake!

The only person to not annoy him was his deputy, his oh so wonderful deputy. Fwhip had been by Jimmy’s side the entire day, offering conversation to distract him from any annoyances plaguing his mind. He was quite grateful for the little goblin, who even tried to help with the railroad when Jimmy tried to work on it. They didn’t get far though, as his empire’s guests interrupted the work pretty quickly to tease them about whatever. The Sheriff didn’t know what they were saying, he was tuning them out a bit. Fwhip seemed to be doing the same, giving Sausage a very unimpressed look after a particular comment Sanctuary's ruler made. The blonde vaguely wondered why the little goblin seemed to be turning red.

Jimmy wished they didn't use elytra, so he could shove his friends through his nether portal and then break it. It would've gotten everyone but his deputy out of his hair. Hell if they didn't have elytra none of them would be here right now

He was barely functioning correctly a few hours later, a bit exhausted by the constant social interaction. Jimmy wanted to get somewhere today, so if the troublesome trio wouldn’t leave he’d just try to work around them.

He beckoned Fwhip over, and the goblin dismissed himself from the conversation immediately. His deputy followed him until they went behind the storage room, Jimmy taking his hat off once they were out of sight from the others. He always wore the hat, but it did get hot sometimes. As long as it didn't leave his person, Jimmy would be okay.

"Can you bring Oli here?" Jimmy asked, running a hand through his hair. Fwhip opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he saw the face The Sheriff was making.

"Sheriff, are you okay?" A familiar gentleness seeped into Fwhip's tone, a small hand reaching for Jimmy’s. He let his deputy hold his hands in his, letting the action comfort him. The other's tail began to flick worriedly, throwing up small puffs of dust from the terracotta below.

Jimmy gave a weak smile. "Yeah, just wasn't expecting everyone today. Kinda ruins my plans." Fwhip's gaze became less concerned, his tail occasionally flicking across Jimmy’s lower leg. "I was kinda excited to meet False."

"There's always next time." His deputy reassured. Jimmy hummed in agreement. "So you want me to bring Oli over here, then I can bring him back to Gobland for..whatever his sentence will be?" The plan had originally been to see the Goblands prisoner in the cage he was currently being held in, and maybe bring him to Tumble Town if the crime called for it. They were supposed to be doing that now, but Jimmy couldn't exactly leave his empire with one other ruler visiting, and certainly not with more than that. It was impolite. Gem turning up was a surprise, but if the others hadn't shown up she'd have been gone right now. Yet here they are, with half of his fellow emperors parading around his town for god knows what reason.

Jimmy gave a small nod of agreement at his deputy's suggestion, the smaller beaming at this. "Alright, I can do that!" Fwhip smiled, relaxing Jimmy’s hands. His tail had a happier flicking to it now.

"Thank you." Jimmy’s smile widened. "Have I ever told you what a great deputy you are?"

Fwhip giggled, ears twitching in amusement. "Nope!"

"Well now I have!" The Sheriff began to walk back to the group, hat being placed atop his head once more. He straightened it as he watched Fwhip pull out some firework rockets, waving a curt goodbye to Sausage as he took off.

"What were you and Fwhip doing back there, hmmm Sheriff?" Scott asked when he rejoined the group. And dear god he did sound terrible, not that the Sheriff had had a real chance to hear him speak. They were stood off to the side a little ways, as Jimmy wasn't feeling very social at the moment.

"Talking." Jimmy responded simply, ignoring how his friends' multicolored eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Just talking, nothing else?" Scott smiled, nudging him. Jimmy flicked his stupid ferbora up, though the action held no real malice. Scott tipped his hat down with the same air of lightheartedness, and Jimmy let out a small huff as he fixed both of their hats.

"Such a gentleman, fixing the hat he messed up." Scott teased. "But you're avoiding my question, Jimothy."

"Yes, we were only talking, Scott." Jimmy said, with a roll of his eyes.

"Nothing else? Nothing at all?" Jimmy flushed at what Scott was implying, but chose to act like he didn't quite understand what the other man meant. "Nope, no idea what you're talking about." Scott clearly didn't believe him, if his smirk said anything.

"Sure, okay" Scott drew out the last word, turning his attention back to the group. Jimmy studied his friend for a second, seeing his gaze stayed fixed on Sausage despite Gem being there as well.

"You haven’t been doing anything with Sausage now have you?" Jimmy teased, smirking as the faintest blush spread across Scott's cheeks.

"Why would I be doing anything with Sausage?" Was the other man's smooth reply.

"Didn't you call him your Wood Daddy-"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Scott’s voice raised as he cut Jimmy off, earning a glance from the other two. Jimmy just snickered, Gem beckoning them over and Sausage loudly calling both their names.

"Well, we're clearly wanted elsewhere." The Sheriff tipped his hat upwards on his head.

"Then let's go see them, Sheriff." Scott was no longer visibly flustered, his voice becoming smooth once more. Chromia's ruler walked over, shouting a greeting at the group. Jimmy giggled to himself, following right behind Scott. Maybe this visit wouldn't be so bad

It did not take Fwhip long to return, his prisoner in tow. He introduced Oli to the group, though all of them but Scott had met the man before. He shoved the taller forward, Oli stumbling and almost falling to the ground. He gave an offended yell in response, the others giggling at the two’s antics.

Oli was quite the unique person, with an inclination for singing, Jimmy noted. Gem did catch him performing in her tavern and did call him a bard. Oli insisted he was not a bard, but no one really believed him. He certainly acted like some sort of performer, regardless of whatever he claimed to not be. Most people would be uncomfortable under all the attention he was currently under, with several almost complete strangers crowding around him, but Oli seemed to thrive in it. He made banter with the others easily, Sausage in particular. Jimmy knew the two had already met, but it seemed like the banter that you would share with an old friend, not some random weird guy that washed up on your empire's shore. Maybe that was one of the weird things about Oli, maybe he just had that effect on people. The Sheriff didn’t mind if he did though. The other man was a tad weird, but other than that he was lively and friendly. Jimmy liked him and was sure they could come to a reasonable agreement about his charges. Even if Oli spouted nonsense half the time he seemed like he'd be reasonable enough when it came down to it.

His clothes were torn, more torn than when Jimmy had last seen him. It was probably due a few more weeks in the cave. He knew Fwhip maybe hadn’t been treating the prisoner the best, and he felt a bit bad about not stepping in, but it was too late now. He just hoped he could make it up to Oli after the latter’s community service ended.

Everything seemed determined to go wrong that day, as the discussion with Oli was put on hold once more. Somehow Scott’s hat had been stolen and Jimmy, determined to do his duty as Sheriff, diligently tried to give it back. Chromia’s ruler, despite claiming he was ill and wanted to avoid much talking, thanked him all the while. Looking back on it later, Jimmy would realize just how much of a joke the whole thing felt like. How even his own deputy had joined in on humiliating him.

He wasn’t sure how the worst moment of his life happened, everything became a blur after that. Everything mixed together in his mind, and the one thing that stook out the most was a stolen badge and Fwhip blabbering something about a promotion. He wasn’t getting one, that wasn’t planned. So that had to have been just a joke right? He didn’t really steal the badge did he? Well… whatever, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t even be considered for a promotion anymore.

The Sheriff had ended up trapped in his own jail cell, the memory too fuzzy and the moment too full of chaos for him to remember how. He thinks he may have been trying to usher everyone from the building, and they’d turned the tables on him instead. His threats, his promises , of firing his goblin deputy were met with only laughter, because this was supposed to be a joke . He wasn’t actually serious, that was ridiculous of course!

It wasn’t a joke to the Sheriff, not when he’d been struggling to get free for over five minutes. When the obsidian walls started to close in around the edges of his vision. When he was killed and respawned, trapped again, for at least the sixth time, it was no longer a joke. They’d put him in a bloody death loop and thought it was funny .

Memories started to replay in his head, of the last time he’d been trapped like this. It hadn’t happened too long ago, but wasn’t in this lifetime. He was in a box of cobblestone instead of obsidian, a box much smaller than his current one and soft grass instead of wood underneath his feet. He could tell he had wings, because they were taking up too much space, space he desperately needed. The outfit was similar to his current Sheriff’s one, though now he wore a blue bandana; a nice one at that. It looked as if it had been crafted by loving hands.

The people who had trapped him would momentarily break the top block of his cell to jaunt and tease him, ignoring any cry to be freed; no matter how desperate it was. Jimmy could not see their faces, for the memory was fuzzy and fleeting, but he could recognize the striking blue of Scott’s hair. The brown haired woman looked familiar, like the woman Sausage worshiped, while the blonde man and the redheaded zombie only bright him the vaguest sense of knowing. His only comfort in this memory was that they couldn;t kill him, the only thing that could be done was keep in the small space. Killing him there was irreversible, and would take another person with him.

He could feel that other person’s heart beating in tandem with his, and the worry coursing through them. Soulmate . That was his soulmate. Jimmy knew the information almost instinctively, and wished whoever the person was would be here in the present. They saved him in the memory, but weren’t there in the present. He wasn’t there to save him when the obsidian turned to cobblestone in his mind, and the Sheriff’s breathing began to pick up. No one was there to save him when SolidarityGaming was slain by fWhip began to repeat endlessly in chat.

Jimmy scrambled back to his feet upon his next respawn, determined to end this. He was the Sheriff, he was respected and didn’t show weakness . He wasn’t hyperventilating over a prank, he wasn’t having a panic attack over a stupid memory. Dodging arrows, he ended the five emperor's little game by breaking the jail cell’s bed. They couldn’t put him in a death loop if he couldn’t respawn.

He stumbled out of the building to the slightly disappointed chatter of his friends. Their faces weren’t clear to him, just blobs of color as he regained his composure slowly. Scott gave him his items back suspiciously quickly and he hoped the other didn’t see the beginnings of tears Jimmy blinked away.

The Sheriff roughly snatched his hat off of Fwhip’s head, finding that the little goblin had fled to the railroad once more. The other shrunk beneath his stern, disapproving gaze, and Jimmy felt a small bit of satisfaction bubble up inside him at the action.

“I’m really disappointed.” He said, not paying any mind to the crowd of so-called friends that formed around them. Sausage’s exclamation of surprise was distant to the blonde’s ears. “I’m very, very, disappointed in you,” The Sheriff saw it, how the light died from Fwhip’s eyes as he stood in front of him. It was very subtle, the goblins body language, and one would only pick up on it if they were close with the small king. “You’re fired.” Jimmy almost growled.

Fwhip’s body language became less subtle at those words, and regret mixed with shock started pouring into his pretty blue eyes. His tail dropped to the floor, no longer flicking idly behind him, and his big ears started to droop as well. The Sheriff opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Sausage.

“You two should kiss!” Sanctuary’s protector called. The other four around him made words of agreement, all that fell on the blonde’s deaf ears.

“What?”

Before he could process what was happening Jimmy felt himself be tugged down slightly and the press of lips against his own. Fwhip kissed him quickly, sweetly, and the Sheriff desperately wished he could say it was bad. He wished it didn’t make his pulse quicken and his cheeks flush. Under any other circumstance, Jimmy would’ve dared to lean into it and kiss his deputy back. Fwhip pulled away just as quickly as he’d pulled the Sheriff downwards, and Jimmy’s lips felt like ash. Part of him wished it had tasted sweeter.

"What did you just do?" Jimmy exclaimed, staring at Fwhip. The goblin said nothing, just looked at him. It was a sad look, one a kicked puppy might have. He shoved down how painful it was too see Fwhip like that. It wasn't painful it was pathetic, that he had the gall to look sad after…..what just happened. "What did you just do? "

"He kissed you!" Sausage helpfully chimed in, and all the love Jimmy held for that man momentarily vanished. He bit back a response of "No shit" and resisted the urge to punch Sausage. He loved that man, but his giggles and joyful demeanor were out of place for the turmoil occurring inside the Sheriff, and Fwhip took from the looks of it. The Goblin still had those kicked puppy dog eyes.

He caught a small concerned look from Scott, the man was always a little too intune to people's emotions. (Maybe an upset Jimmy was a familiar sight to Scott deep down. No matter how hard Jimmy tried to hide his feelings. Maybe he’d been able to read Jimmy like a book once upon a time, maybe they'd been something.)

Other than Chromia's ruler everyone had joyful expressions still, they still laughed. It fully dawned on the Sheriff then, what was happening. Almost everyone in front of him thought it was a joke, they thought the cage had been a joke. He was always the joke, the punching bag, wasn’t he? In every life he lived he was the one who was teased and outright bullied until people got bored, or a war started or something. The Sheriff couldn’t remember past lives clearly, but he knew regardless, the teasing felt all too familiar not to know. And Jimmy never broke, he never did. He always held his head high and pushed forward.

(Though the Sheriff didn't know it yet, one day in this life he wouldn't be able to push forward anymore. He would finally reach a breaking point.)

He'd always been a plaything in a sense to some people, long before he'd been called a toy by that nuisance of a God. A toy. In every life he was nothing but a toy to pick on until it wasn’t funny anymore. (But Joel hadn't thought of him like that once, but now he did. Maybe that was why Jimmy’s soul ached so much when the God continued his Toy Sheriff jokes)

One more look at Fwhip and Jimmy knew he had to leave, especially because the goblin was masking his inner torture with a smile. "I kissed the Sheriff!" Fwhip giggled. He was hurt as well, they'd hurt each other and Fwhip still treated it as a joke. (It was always Fwhip, in every lifetime they shared. His deputy, wasn't that funny? Wasn't that cruel?)

Jimmy had to leave. He couldn't stay in this mesa right now, he couldn't stay in his own town right now. And he had an excuse to leave as well. The one good thing the universe had granted him today, or maybe ever. The blonde wouldn't know, he couldn't remember. He wished he could.

He had to keep his voice from wavering when he spoke again, he was The Sheriff. The Sheriff was respected, he didn’t let things like this get to him. "Come on Oli, we're leaving." Jimmy turned abruptly without a word to the others, walking down his half finished railroad track. He heard no footsteps following him, only small laughs from his friends. "Oli, we're leaving." He repeated, a bit harsher this time. The other man was at his side within seconds. He didn’t even have a funny quip to say as he walked along The Sheriff, taking a small look over his shoulder. Jimmy didn’t see the look Oli had, he hoped it wasn’t one of joy. (It wasn’t)

In the darkness of the train tunnel Oli grabbed his hand. It was surprising, but Jimmy didn’t protest. Oli gave it a comforting squeeze. It was like he had known the Sheriff for a long time, the touch having the comfort only an old friend could give. Which didn’t make sense, they’d only met once, they weren't friends. But Jimmy didn’t care right now, maybe Oli just had that effect on people. After a moment Jimmy intertwined his fingers with Oli's, a short Thank You, I need that and Everything Hurts . The Sheriff didn’t want to let go. For once in his life he wanted to lean on someone, physically and metaphorically.

They let go when they heard the sound of Fwhip’s footsteps behind them. No more ideas needed to be spread after…what just happened with the Gobland ruler.

The trio made their way to Gobland in silence. It was rare for Oli to be quiet, but hey, at least he could read a room. Jimmy would give him that. He didn’t mind how Oli hovered at his side the whole journey, avoiding Fwhip like the plague. Oli let their arms occasionally brush, his way of giving comfort at the moment, and Jimmy didn’t mind at all, he damn near leaned into it. Fwhip took the lead at one point during the journey, not even glancing at Jimmy. He didn't care that his dep-ex deputy- wouldn't look at him. It didn't hurt at all, everything was fine. (Maybe if he said everything was fine, if he played pretend, then it would be.)

It would be fine. He would sort everything out at Gobland, like originally planned, then he would go home and try to forget this day ever happened. ( But the universe never let him forget, and it had proven just as much earlier.)

His stay in the cave empire was abrupt and far shorter than it normally used to be. Oli was indebted to eighty diamonds for his thievery from Gobland, and Fwhip could add interest to it when he so pleased. When the debt was paid off Oli’s crime would be acquitted, and besides that he was free to do whatever. The Sheriff had chosen something quickly, something likely to satisfy both parties. Fwhip and his proinser were almost as silent as he was, and the former didn’t even wish the Sheriff goodbye as he walked out the door.

Oli walked with him until the two left the goblin empire, their hands intertwined again and Jimmy squeezing back tighter than he had before. The man muttered something about setting up on a beach next to Gem, before parting ways. The Sheriff walked home slowly, forgetting about his elytra. His thoughts were scrambled, and he barely noticed the sun moving above his head

When Jimmy returned home it was dusk, the sun setting. He couldn't see the sunset from the fishbowl Tumble Town was located in, but he could see how the sky turned purple. The color seemed fitting, more so with the dark blue hues mixing into the sunset as the yellow, brighter and happier ones died out and the stars started to shine. Sadness and indifference is what these colors represented, and it was what Jimmy felt. Well, somewhat. He wasn't really sad, he just felt a numbness all over. It wasn't a good one either, it was the numbness you felt when you'd taken all you could take. The numbness that came with the bone deep tiredness Jimmy felt running through his veins.

His friends had left already, and it had been a few hours ago at best. Most footprints or other evidence that a small crowd had gathered was gone. The wind had blown sand and dust over them, a normal occurrence in the mesa, and now only vague imprints remained on the ground. It had been midday when Fwhip arrived, so the whole debacle had regrettably taken up his whole afternoon.

He would later learn that Scott was the one who shooed their fellow emperors home, not long after Jimmy had left. He felt grateful for Scott when he did. The man was a thief and a lawbreaker, but when it really came down to it he knew when to hit the breaks.

But for now Jimmy didn’t know that, nor did he care how they had left. He just hoped he could muster the energy to face them when they inevitably met again later in the week.

The town was now fading into its night time calm, its few citizens already having retired to their houses for the night. Jimmy ignored how he thought more of them were probably going to leave after today, thinking that his empire couldn't stand up for itself. He walked back to his house in silence, the only sounds were the faint snorts and neighs of stable horses and the crunching of his boots against the ground. He hoped his people were inside, not wanting to be seen like this .

Jimmy shut the door to his home with a loud slam, a noise that probably the whole town could hear. He could care less though, especially if more people were going to be gone by morning anyways.

Two feline figures appeared from the darkness, as Jimmy wasn't even bothering to turn on a light. The biggest cat, Norman, gave a plaintive meow while the smaller one pawed at the food bowls.

"Alright, alright." Jimmy mumbled fondly, hanging his hat in its usual place. He walked over to where the cat food was stored, picking up the littlest one as he went. Flick gave a few mrrows of protest but seemed content when his owner scratched behind his ears. Norman followed the two, footsteps sounding against the wooden floor.

He deposited Flick on the counter, reaching into an upper cabinet to retrieve their dry food. It had been moved up there after the two troublemakers opened a bottom cabinet and eaten almost the whole bag. Norman rubbed against his legs, purr filling the air.

Their food bowls were filled less than a minute later, both cats now munching down on their dinner. Jimmy felt bad about getting home to them late, but he couldn’t have helped it.

The cats were left to their own devices as Jimmy walked down the small hallway into his bedroom. He threw his sheriff badge on the nightstand with a loud clank , watching it as the metal gleamed in the moonlight streaming in from his window.

Jimmy sat down on his bed with a sigh, removing the blue bandanna he wore around his neck. Blue. He thought over the color, the piece of cloth now resting in his hands. He'd had a blue bandana then as well, in that stone hole. He wondered if his soulmate had had one as well. He wondered if the color had complimented his, if it had been orange. No, orange would look stupid. It would've been red. His soulmate wore a red bandanna, and his was blue.

The Sheriff sighed, deciding to stop thinking about bandannas and soulmates. It was bringing faint memories to the surface, and his already wrecked brain didn’t have the energy to decipher them. His head was beginning to throb with the start of a headache. But just because you wanted to stop thinking didn’t mean your brain would let you, it almost never worked like that.

He fell into a fitful sleep replaying the day's events in his head, which almost sent him into a panic at several points. Norman and Flick were always there though, their presence bringing him much needed comfort. It was hard for Jimmy to stay panicked with a sleeping cat at his side.

He might’ve dreamed of the life he led before, but he couldn't remember. Jimmy’s dreams alway seemed to be important but he never remembered them for more than a few minutes. Dreams were not something to be remembered, and for once Jimmy was glad. He wanted to put everything behind him for a little bit. Everything was going to be fine, it had to be, so he should start acting like it and stop dwelling on silly memories. He was the Sheriff, he had respect to earn and a job to do.

Jimmy stepped out of his house the next morning, tired still. This time it was from lack of sleep and not mental anguish. But he wasn’t dwelling on that anymore, no, he had work to do today. He had a railroad to finish. Yet before he’d even set sight upon his beloved down he’d pulled an old piece of cloth out of a bottom drawer, an item he hadn’t even known he had. A blue bandana was now tied around his neck, covering the collar of his shirt and vest.

As the Sheriff looked at his town, at the empty plots that had not yet been filled, he decided one of them would have a ranch.