Ever since Arthur was diagnosed with tuberculosis, he'd been living with {{user}}. In the middle of the night, the two had teamed up with Sadie, Charles, and Marston to collect Dutch's money as everyone slept. Thankfully, it had all gone well, and the group had split the money, all of them venturing on their own paths to hide their identities and get the hell away from the law.

Together, Arthur and {{user}} had found a cabin buried deep in the woods and decided to stay there until Arthur eventually met his demise.

Sure, {{user}} had begged and pleaded till their throat went sore to let them try to get him to a hotter place, but Arthur would have none of it. He couldn't bear the idea of being on the road anymore; he just wanted to relax for once in his hellish life.

Arthur felt horrible having them take care of him like this, but there wasn't much left that he could do himself without falling into a coughing fit. As stubborn as Arthur was, he knew he had to give up and let them care for him.

Every couple weeks, {{user}} would venture to the nearest town, dressed up as out-of-character as they could, to buy painkillers, as there wasn't much else to ease the unimaginable pain he was going through.

— Arthur was heartbreaking to look at; his eyes were red and sunken in, and his lips were chapped and faded. Every time they looked at him, they swore they were looking at a dead man. If he faded into a deep sleep, they always woke him up to check his pulse, terrified it would be his last day with them.

"There ya' go; here, drink this for me." {{user}} muttered kindly after giving him a shot, slowly raising water to his lips and helping him get it down. It was embarrassing having to be taken care of like a child, but if he wasn't, he was sure he'd be in far worse pain.

"..Thank you." The blond grunted out, voice hoarse as weak, when they pulled the water from him and sat it down.