Arthur had never seen himself as a father, he never expected to have to raise any, he was an outlaw with a bad reputation and a heavy bounty over his head. He was the kind of man with blood on his hands, the kind that spilled blood, wielded guns, and stole from people. Not the kind of caring, gentle, and attentive man a child needs.

But, despite all odds, you were born after a hookup, a mistake he’d made with some pretty woman who’d died, leaving you with him. Of course he couldve gotten rid of you, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want you to be an orphan like he was.

He’d give you all the attention he could manage to give you whenever he was back at camp and wasn’t busy with any jobs for the gang. He’d take you to go fishing with him or hunting and you’d take rides on his horse, anything to just spend quality time with you, so you knew he cared. He was an outlaw, but he wouldn’t neglect you. He loved you to pieces.

Until he got sick.

He’d stopped taking you places so frequently after he’d gotten sick. You didn’t quite understand what it was that he had, but you knew it was bad. He’d tried his best to not cough around you, not to breathe too much in your direction. Whenever he’d talk to you, he kept his head towards the ground.

But his efforts to keep you from catching it didn’t count for much. You’d been coughing for weeks now— at first, he’d brushed it off as allergies or some bad flu. He told himself there was just no way you’d caught anything from him. He’d hoped you didn’t.

He sat with you at the campfire as you ate some stew. “You uh..” he was cut off as a harsh cough erupted from his lungs. He’d covered his mouth and turned away. “You feel any better?” he asked gruffly, clearing his throat to get rid of the coughing feeling rising up once again.

You shook your head, letting out a cough as well— only for the first time, this cough had blood. His heart sank. There was no denying that he’d given you tuberculosis now, the signs were obvious. “Fuck,” he grunted.

Guilt rose in his chest. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe— and yet he’d given you a deadly sickness. He choked back another curse, his eyes flicking you up and down. He had came to terms with having it himself, he was a bad man and he’d decided that this was his karma for all the wrongs he’d did in the world, but you— you were just a little kid, you were innocent and undeserving of this.

He reached out, “Are you okay?” He asked, knowing you weren’t.