Author's Note

To those who haven’t played RDR 2…
SPOILER ALERT!!!
Other than that, I hope you enjoy this new story idea!

~WurkyWilk has left the building…

The Penance of A Gunslinger

Chapter 1

“Come on brother…” John wheezed as Arthur fell to his knees next to his dying horse. “Let’s go!”

“Gimme a second.” Arthur requested as he pet his partner.

Since the beginning, his horse had been by his side. Arthur’s horse had always been there for him when he needed it most. The horse’s eyes grew heavy as the bullet wound that tore through its body and had ended its journey. The Pinkerton’s were closing in on the mountainside as John fired shots to hold them off.

“Come on, push Arthur!” John called out.

“Yeah…” Arthur said as he continued to console his steed. “Woah…”

“Arthur!” John yelled. Arthur glanced up at John and back down to his horse, his partner, his friend.

“Thank you.” Was all Arthur said as his horse took its last breath. With nothing else to do, Arthur shakily stood back up and walked towards John.

“Come on, Arthur. Let’s go.” John said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Well, what about the money?” Arthur asked, pointing in the other direction. “Abigail gave me the key.”

“I head down there, I’m dead in five minutes.” John stated. “I got a family, that’s more important.”

“Ah, maybe you’re right but…” Arthur protested as his lungs continued to burn.

John looked at Arthur with a stern gaze. “You want the money? You head down. I gotta go to my family.”

Arthur was at an impasse. He wanted to help John, but at the same time there was a lot of money left behind back in the cave. If he could go get it, maybe he’d still have at least something to show for all this mess he and John found themselves in. Arthur looked down the mountainside as he coughed a little in his glove. He looked down to see more blood, he didn’t have long and he knew it.

Aw, to Hell with it, and burn. Arthur thought.

“I’m comin’ with you.” Arthur said as he put his hat back on. “I’m gonna get you outta this bullshit…if it’s the last goddamn thing I do!”

“Thank you!” John said as they began to run up the mountain.

The two gunslingers climbed the mountain, dodging bullets and firing them right back as they desperately tried to evade their pursuers. Arthur’s lungs felt like they were on fire. Ever step he took was one battle after another as he turned back and shot his pistol back at the persistent Pinkerton’s who refused to let up on him and John. After dispatching another group of Pinkerton’s, Arthur and John soon made it to a point on the mountain where they could maybe give them the slip.

“Alright Arthur, come on, let’s go!” John said as he waved his hand over for Arthur to follow him.

“You go…” Arthur wheezed as he struggled to stand.

“Keep pushing Arthur!” John said as he staggered towards his friend while clutching his wound.

“No…cough! cough! I think I’ve pushed all I can.” Arthur said as he wiped the blood off his mouth.

“Come on…” John sighed as he shook his head.

“You go.” Arthur protested.

“We ain’t got time for this, not now.” John argued.

Arthur sighed as he took off his hat and looked at John pityingly. Arthur knew if they stuck together, he’d only slow John down because of his illness. He knew what had to be done, he had to get John out.

“We ain’t both gonna make it.” Arthur said as John frowned painfully. “Go…now. I’ll hold’em off.” Arthur put his hat on his friend’s head as he placed his other hand on John’s shoulder. “It would mean a lot to me…please.” Arthur grabbed his satchel’s strap and took it off as he handed it to John. “There ain’t no more time fer talk. Go.” He ordered as he pulled out his pistol and turned towards the distant gunfire.

“Arthur…” John said, but Arthur waved him off.

“Go to yer family!” Arthur demanded.

“Arthur!”

“Get the hell outta here and be a goddamn man!” The wheezing cowboy staggered more up the cliffside as John watched him.

“You’re my brother…” John called out, making Arthur turn to him once more.

“I know…I know.” Arthur said. John nodded to Arthur before reluctantly running the other way.

“GODDAMN YOU BASTARDS!” Arthur cried as he fired more shots at his enemies.

“DIE!”

WHACK!

Arthur blocked Micah’s punch and head butted him, right before Micah kicked Arthur away and to the ground as he staggered backwards.

“Still got a little fight left in you, have you, boy?!” Micah mocked as he grabbed Arthur and pushed him into the wall.

His hands gripped around Arthur’s throat and tried to choke him out. Arthur hit Micah’s arms in an attempt to beak his hold but to no avail as he fell to his knees. Arthur then began to hit Micah’s rib cage which seemed to do the trick as he was able break the hold. Both men, wounded and wheezing, charged at each other in yet another fist fight. Arthur always hated Micah, he never once got along with him since he joined the gang. He always wanted some excuse to either kick him out or kill him; now he got it since it was him who sold everyone out to the Pinkerton’s. All this death and destruction, the running, the death, the chaos, all of it was Micah’s fault.

Micah managed to tackle Arthur to the ground and began wailing on him, despite Arthur’s attempts to block his punches. When Micah raised his fist to strike Arthur again, Arthur swung his fist into Micah’s kneecap to throw him off. When Micah fell backwards, Arthur rolled back on his stomach, gasping for air as he tried to crawl towards his pistol he dropped.

“All there is…is winnin’…and losing…” Micah growled.

He grabbed Arthur off the ground and slammed his head in the wall, right before Arthur bashed his head with the grip of the pistol as both men fell to the ground. Arthur continue to wheeze painfully as he crawled once more on his stomach towards the gun.

“Oh, Black Lung…you ain’t gonna reach that gun! You ain’t!” Arthur ignored his words as he continued to crawl. “You lost, my sick friend. You lost!”

“In the end, Micah…” Arthur said in a raspy voice. “Despite my best efforts to the contrary…it turns out I’ve won.” He didn’t care that his lungs were on fire, that he could barely see, that his face and body were bloody and beaten. He continued to crawl, he was gonna end this one way or the other, regardless how much little time he had left.

“Goddamn you…” Arthur wheezed as he grasped the pistol, only for a boot to step on his hand, making him grunt and look up to see his former mentor.

“It is over now…Arthur.” Dutch said. “It’s over!”

“Oh, Dutch…” Arthur could barely talk, let alone breathe. “He’s a rat…You know it and I know it.”

“He’s sick…” Micah protested. “He’s dyin’…he’s talking crazy!”

“There!”

“Up there on the ridge!”

The Pinkerton’s were closing in as Dutch just stood there over the dying gunslinger.

“I gave you all I had…” Arthur said. “I did.”

“I…” Dutch tried to find the words, but none could be spoken since he had held Arthur in such high regard, only for him to be reduced to this. “I…”

“Come on. Dutch…let’s go, buddy.” Micah said with a false smile. “We made it. We won!” Dutch just looked away, unsure of what to do, still at a loss for words. “Come on!”

“John made it.” Arthur croaked. “He’s the only one. Rest of us…no. But…I tried. In the end…I did.”

“Come on…” Micah pleaded. “Let’s go. We can make it!” Dutch frowned as he backed away and walked in the other direction, away from Micah instead of following him. “Come on, Dutch…come on!” But Dutch didn’t turn around, he just continued to walk away as Micah seethed at him and stormed off.

Arthur laid there, wheezing and dying as he turned over to crawl again. He was now alone as he made his way to a slanted wall. Once he did, he laid himself down, grunting in discomfort. That was the last of his energy he had left. He looked over to the side to see the sun had risen just beyond the horizon. It was a welcoming sight for the gunslinger, a peaceful feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. The pain from his illness was starting to fade away, as was he. He did what he said he’d do, he got John out, back to his family. This was for the best, John deserved it more than everyone.

As Arthur’s vision started to become blurry, he smiled as he gazed at the sunrise. He did it, he won, and he had no regrets whatsoever.

Maybe…the Lord will take pity on an old fool like me. It don’t matter now, I suppose. I just hope it’s not too bad down there in Hell.

The last of his thoughts were of John, Abigail, and little Jack. He smiled, knowing that they were gonna be at least ok.

John…thank you…for being a brother. I hope…you live a good life…

Arthur Morgan then sighed as he exhaled his last breath, passing away with a content smile on his face.

???

Arthur’s soul drifted in the void, unknowing where to go. He surmised that he’d be going on a trip straight to the Inferno but instead he was nowhere. Just then, a light shined in the soul’s path which meant that’s where it seemed it must go. Though as it traveled towards the light, the soul began to take shape. But instead of taking the form of a human, like Arthur was, he changed into a different form.

The arms were first, and they grew out just fine. Then the legs were next, but they seemed to be double jointed and had hooves instead of feet. Next was the upper and lower body, and a tail grew from behind. The head was next to form but instead of a nose, a muzzle took its place. The ears did not form on the sides, but on top and were more pointy. The hair grew out to a short mane, both it and the tail colored dirty blonde. The transformation was complete, and Arthur Morgan was now something else entirely. The newly formed soul continued to drift towards the light until it enveloped the soul and blinded its surroundings.

The Forest

Arthur had his eyes closed as he slept on the ground. He had thought he died, but for some reason he was sleeping. He then began to stir from his slumber and slowly opened his eyes. The sun pierced his vision, making him grunt in discomfort as he raised his hand to block the light. That’s when his vision was returning and he actually managed to see his hand.

“What the…?” He murmured. “Am I…still breathin’?”

To confirm his suspicions, Arthur took in a deep breath and expected to go into a coughing fit. Only to his surprise, it didn’t hurt when he did and it actually felt quite refreshing for once. His vision finally returned to normal and he got a look of his surroundings. He was in a wooded area, the sun was shining high in the sky, and he could hear birds chirping in the distance. He saw he was underneath a tree as he laid down. When he looked, he saw that he was still wearing his clothes. His tan jacket, his dark blue undershirt, his light blue jeans, his brown gloves, even his hooves seemed to be there…

“Wait a minute…hooves?”

Arthur sat his body up to look at his feet. Only he didn’t see his feet, but hooves like on a horse. It was then that Arthur finally noticed that his face was stretched out, which made him feel his face. It definitely didn’t feel like a nose, and when he felt on top of his head, he felt two pointed ears that twitched whenever he touched them.

“The hell’s goin’ on here?” Arthur wondered.

He then heard what sounded like a stream nearby. Not wanting to stick around, Arthur placed a hand on his knee and stood up. Only once he did, he fell forward but caught himself on the tree. He looked down to see that even his legs looked and felt strange, which made him roll his eyes as he wobbly made his way towards the water.

“If this is Hell, they’re doin’ a pretty damn good job makin’ it look colorful.” Arthur grumbled as he continued to struggle to walk.

It was like he was an infant taking his first steps, which he needed to put an end to and walk normally. After about a minute of waking, Arthur found his goal and made it to the stream. He sat on his knees and took off his gloves, only to see that his hands were covered in light brown fur which made him arch a brow.

“Well that’s…somethin’.” He said as he examined them.

Arthur then cupped his hands in the water and splashed his face. When he opened his eyes, he gasped at what he was seeing. A stallion horse, with light brown fur, a dirty blonde mane and sky blue eyes stared back at him with an equally shocked expression. When he tilted his head, so did the horse. When he pinched his cheek, the reflection did the same. Arthur started to panic as the reality began to set in that he no longer was human. He then felt something move behind him on his butt. When he turned around, he now had a horse tail that was the same color of his hair.

“Holy fuck…" Arthur said as he took a deep breath. “WHAT IN TARNATION?! WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED TO ME?!”