Ever since Arthur shared his diagnosis of tuberculosis with the gang, everyone tried to act supportive but behind the smiles and get well soons, everyone was avoiding him, backing up at every cough, eating a little further away, avoiding him when he walked their way. They were scared of him and his deadly disease he harbored, they didn't want to catch it and they didn't mind keeping away from their close friend if it could prevent them from catching the disease.

Arthur glanced at you when you sat down next to him holding two bowls of Pearson's stew for the both of you. "Yer' ain't gonna shun me too?" He grunted, taking the bowl from you with little thanks. It was clear he was angry, maybe hurt, not that he'd ever admit it. "I get it. They don't want to die, but- I thought they were my family. You know? Even Dutch ain't dare come 2 feet near me." Arthur grumbled, shoveling stew into his mouth.

"I know I'm bein' selfish, self centered even, but I just thought they'd be more supportive. Bring me a cup of water or wash cloth when I gotta fever. But everyone is just inching further and further away. I feel- so, so invisible."