The move was surprisingly smooth, Susan barking orders at everyone ensured that you all stayed on track. Arthur, however, had not left your side since getting you back, not allowing you to lift anything heavier than a bowl of stew.

"Arthur, I'm fine, I can help set up our tent at least." You protest as he scoops the bedroll from your arms.

"Ya ain't healed yet, just sit and relax, and let me take care of you." He smiles at your pouting, pressing a kiss to your forehead before setting the bedroll in its place on your shared cot.

"I'm not a cripple Arthur, I want to be useful." You cross your arms, frustrated that you feel like a burden.

He finishes straightening the blankets before he stands and takes your hands in his.

"You are useful, I'm just giving you a chance to heal properly. 'Sides, you're looking a little pale, you sure you're feeling okay?" his brow furrows as he scans your face, his palm coming up and stroking your cheek.

"I'm fine Arthur, you're paranoid." You lied.

The truth was you had felt nauseous again this morning but hadn't said anything for fear of Arthur practically putting you on bed rest. You hadn't told Arthur about why Colm had taken you into Valentine the day Lenny found you, opting to keep that information quiet as you were sure it was nothing.

"Arthur!" Pearson calls, interrupting Arthur's inspection and walking over. "Was wondering if you could head into town and pick up a few things?"

"Goddamn, it" he whispers to you as you giggle. "Can't John do it?"

"John's out already, Dutch said to send you."

"I bet he did..." he mutters to himself. "You gonna be okay for a bit? I should only be an hour." He asks you.

"I'll be fine Arthur, just hurry back." You smile, stepping on your tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"You heard the lady, get going," Pearson says leading Arthur away as he rolls his eyes at you with a smirk.

You wave him off with a giggle, listening to Pearson reel of a list of items, knowing Arthur will be cursing to himself as the list grows longer. Although you hated being apart from Arthur, his going into town afforded you the opportunity to try and help with chores. You really did hate feeling like a burden so you set off in search of Susan to offer your services.

It doesn't take you long to realize that Arthur was one step ahead of you, clearly having warned the whole gang about putting you to work. You'd spent half an hour asking everyone if they needed anything, but no one was willing to let you help, telling you to rest, and take it easy. You were ready to scream in frustration, instead opting to return to your tent to unpack your things. As you cross by Dutch's tent to yours, you catch his attention as he sits with Micah.

"Miss Y/L/N won't you come here a moment?" he beckons you over, his signature cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Everything okay Dutch?" you walk over, your fingers beginning to play with your skirt. The man had welcomed you to the gang, gave you a home, and for that you were thankful, but since Arthur made his feelings for you clear he had labeled you a distraction. You did not feel like having a conversation with him, especially not with Micah there.

"Come take a seat, I owe you an apology." He motions to the seat opposite him.

Well, that was not what you were expecting...

"Apology?" You take the seat hesitantly, subconsciously shuffling the chair further from Micah.

He considers you for a moment, taking a long drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth.

"Yes, I've been unfair. I thought you would be a distraction to my son, but I see now how much he cares for you. You make him happy."

Okay, what the hell was going on? You frown, confused at Dutch's sudden change of heart, as he continues.

"I hope you'll forgive me as I need your help." He leans forward, taking your hand in his, like the gentleman he pretends to be.

So, he needed something, at least the apology made sense now.

"What do you want Dutch?" you try to keep up appearances but your smile falters.

"I need you to tell me everything that happened while you were with the O'Driscolls, if we're going to beat them, we'll need all the information we can get."

You rip your hand away standing quickly and startling Micah.

"BEAT THEM!? This feud between you both is going to get us all killed Dutch!"

"Not if we act first Y/N, strike Colm while he's not expecting it!" he stands, walking around the table to you and taking your hands firmly in his. The smell of the cigar between his lips burning your nose.

"I know he hurt you." His voice dropping to calm you down. "Help me take Colm down for what he did to you."

Your eyes are welling up as memories begin to resurface, you shake your head, both to tell Dutch no and to fight the images in your mind.

"Tell me what he did to you, tell me what you know." Dutch pushes, his hands tightening painfully around yours.

You're becoming overwhelmed by the memories as they rush back to the front of your mind. Colm's hands. His mouth. His fists. The pain. The humiliation.

"Maybe she liked it, that's why she's not willing to give him up." Micah sneers but you barely hear him as you begin to gasp for breath.

"Shut up Micah!" Dutch snaps as he helps lower you to the ground.

Micah rolls his eyes and turns to leave, already losing interest in the conversation.

"All I'm sayin' is she seems pretty intent on not helpin'." He spits over his shoulder as he walks away.

"Ignore him. Y/N I need you to focus, try to tell me if Colm said anything, maybe where they were going next?" he's crouched in front of you as you grasp your chest, fighting to breathe.

"I-...I can't b-bre-." you stutter.

"THINK Y/N!" he grasps your arms, a manic look in his eyes.

Dutch's yelling attracts the attention of Hosea who is reading nearby, as he looks up from his paper, he notes your distress, instantly rushing over.

"The hell is going on Dutch!?" he crouches by you, a protective arm coming around you only adding to the smothering feeling in your chest.

"She knows things and she's not telling me! She's working with them." He points with his cigar, hot ash flying, as he jabs in your direction.

"What are you talking about!? Can't you see she's frightened?" he rubs your arms as your breaths become more rapid. "Take a walk Dutch." He urges.

Your vision is blurred with your tears, and their voices muffled as your ears begin to ring. You feel like you are going to die, not enough air is getting to your lungs and your chest is tightening painfully.

"Y/N, dear you have to breathe, what's wrong?" Hosea's voice is laced with concern.

You start to shiver as sweat builds on your neck. Hosea turns as he hears a yell. It's Arthur, back from town to find you on the floor, sobbing and gasping for air. He jumps from his horse and rushes over.

"Y/N! What's going on? What happened?" His voice quiet as he drops to one knee in front of you.

"She was talking to Dutch about Colm and then she got like this."

He scoops you into his arms, drawing you close to his chest.

"Y/N breathe for me, talk to me. What's going on?" his voice slow and steady, helping to center yourself.

You curl into his chest, feeling the heat from his body. You place a hand on his heart, feeling his heartbeat, trying to match your breath to his. You ground yourself in his scent, letting it wrap around you. Whiskey, pine, tobacco, and him. He's here and you're safe.

Arthur walks you back to your tent, opting to sit on the cot with you curled up on his lap. He holds you close, stroking his hand slowly up and down your back. He doesn't speak, instead, he hums, gentling rocking you, trying to bring you back to him.

"Arthur." You murmur into his chest and feel him sigh in relief.

"There she is." he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing down your hair with his hand.

You pull back from his chest to meet his eyes, breathing deeply as glorious air fills your lungs. His eyes are filled with concern, but he smiles, a thumb coming up to wipes away your tears.

"Welcome back."

"I-I was talking to Dutch...He wanted to know about what happened with Colm, he thought I knew something that could help us get even."

You feel Arthur growl in his chest. Since getting back to camp, the tension between Dutch and Arthur was clear. Something had changed in their relationship.

"I don't want to get even Arthur; I want to get out." You bury your face in his neck, feeling the scruff of his beard tickle your cheek.

Photo credit: Instagram sadiexarthur

"I know sweetheart, I know."

Seeing you today Arthur had made the decision in his mind already. One way or another he was getting you out.