Arthur stared down at you with wide eyes, his heart thumping so loud in his ears he could barely hear whatever speech you were giving him. His eyes were soft on your face, his hands resting on your hips and his lips pursed, "Darlin' you're kiddin' me," he said softly, raising his eyebrows and taking half a step back. You couldn't have been pregnant, that was wrong, it had to be.

He recalled his own childhood, thinking back on the pain he'd felt, the terror that came with being a child in the gang. He thought about little Jack, the neglect and confusion he felt on a day to day basis. How could Arthur want to raise a kid in this type of world? "You're not... you're not pregnant."

He pulled back entirely and ran a hand down his face, pacing slightly back and forth across the shoreline of the lake. Dutch was probably looking over and laughing, Micah was definitely going to make jokes about the kid being his, did anyone else know you were pregnant?

"Darlin' I can't- I can't be a father right now!" Arthur didn't mean to raise his voice, he loved you more than anything, but the idea of having a kid, of failing to raise them, it was horrifying. "What if I mess the little thing up!? What if I hurt this kid beyond any comprehension!?"