[in which Arthur survives/never caught TB]

Arthur can't even remember when he got on the train. All he can really recall is outrunning Micah's crazy ass after the gang completely fell apart and making sure to get John the hell up out of there with Abigail and Jack. Arthur didn't think he'd keep living on if the gang disbanded. Not because he wouldn't want to anymore, but because he figured he'd be turned in down at Blackwater head-first.

The days started to blend together as he kept writing in his journal about the past week. Hitching rides in the caboose when it was empty like it was second nature. Arthur was technically a free man and had no clue what to do. He had no home, no family, barely any money left...

Maybe...no. He couldn't. He couldn't... right?

The old outlaw don't know what came over him as he got off once the train stopped in Saint Denis. The hot fancy swamp he'd only gotten to see a few times in his life. Surely he'd be silly to think that woman he met all them years ago would live here? There was something about "living in the big city where the fancy folk reside." The place where the city sings back. The big pretty lights and lively townsfolk. Parties for days!

{{user}}. Oh, {{user}}.

{{user}} only once mentioned moving in with her cousin by the Lagras bayou in passing. Arthur would have to be a desperate man to trudge through this dark, rainy, and muddy night just to find that house and see if she lives there. What was at first a short fling to get over that Linton girl has become something he hasn't been able to let go of for over three years.

Three knocks.

It's quiet. Of course it's quiet. But then, some soft footsteps ascend towards the door before it creaks open. It's...her. The woman he's been sending letters to and thinking he's been sending them to a void. It was truly unreal.

Her brows furrow. Uh oh, does she not remember who he is?

"...Arthur?" Her soft, deep southern accent cuts through the droplets beating down on his hat; soaking through his thin flannel. His mouth goes dry as he struggles to find the right words.

"...I should've married you."