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The Things Left Unsaid

Summary:

"I spoke to this guy in the swamp that knew all about you...all about you."

Bill is the only one that knows what happened to Arthur in that shack in the swamp. It was an accident to learn about it, but after seeing Arthur's return, and bearing witness to his self-destruction after the fact, Bill reckoned that he would be there for Arthur while he heals.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Bill probably shouldn’t have made that joke to Arthur when he came back to camp. He saw the way Arthur sort of limped into camp, face hidden under his hat, his absolute refusal to interact with anyone when they started speaking to them. Bill saw that as a challenge. The gang could clearly see there was something wrong with Arthur, but Bill knew exactly what it was.

There was a shack, up near Saint Denis. Weird man lived there. He happened upon him when his horse was stopping for a bite of some food. Bill already had his hand on his revolver, that man weren’t about to pull no tricks with him. With great effort, he tried to be polite and composed. The stranger responded in kind and enthusiastically invited him to get some food inside his home. Bill respectfully declined but said he’d eat a can of beans with the stranger. Stranger said no thanks. The horse just about finished his meal of apples and carrots and so he mounted him, giving him a few gentle pats.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here, boy.” He whispered into the horse’s ear. Jack stomped at the ground twice and bucked his head. He agreed. Just before Bill could get to the reins the stranger asked him a question.

“How’s your friend doing?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, partner.”

“You know him. Blond, scruffy beard, tough.”

He laughed when he said that and Bill was curious. What the hell was Arthur doing here?

“Fine, I reckon. Why?”

The stranger laughed again and sighed at the thought of Arthur.

“Your friend ain’t so tough after all, sir. Shall I tell you about our night together?”

And so Bill hopped down off his horse, and walked carefully to the first step and stood there. The stranger smiled and so there Bill was. For a whole hour he listened to the sordid and horrible tale of Arthur being raped by this disgusting human being. He described in great detail what he did to him, how it felt to penetrate him. It made Bill sick to his stomach, and so he quickly bid the man a good rest of the day and then rode back to the relative safety of his camp.

Arthur hadn’t been there when Bill returned. He couldn’t help but worry about that man. Was he alright? Was he safe, away from that inbred hillbilly piece of shit?  Is he…is he healing properly? But Bill was shit at tracking people down, and he couldn’t tell the other gang members, it would be a direct betrayal to Arthur. He wasn’t even supposed to know! So Bill did the only thing Bill knew how to do besides shoot, and that was get drunk. Get drunk and forget that Arthur was out there somewhere, trying to forget that awful night as best he could without dying.

Arthur ain’t come back until about three days later. Bill was honestly surprised that he came back so soon but then he saw the way Arthur winced while dismounting his horse and figured that Arthur just really wanted to rest. Sleeping on a bedroll in the middle of nowhere weren’t quite the same. Bill stood by the hitching tents, waiting for Arthur to trudge past him. Arthur was walking kind of funny. He came within earshot of Bill, and that’s when he let fly that stupid comment.

“I spoke to this guy in the swamp who knew all about you…all about you.”

Arthur looked at him carefully. Bill regretted it the moment that man clapped eyes on him. Arthur looked like he ain’t slept in all the time he’s been away. He looked angry, and sad, but most of all, he looked embarrassed. If he hadn’t happened upon that stranger, he would have never placed it. If Arthur hadn’t already killed that man, then he would tonight.

“Shut up.”

That’s all he said. He ain’t want to talk about it. So Bill left it at that.

Except Arthur got worse. His walk went back to normal and he was able to ride his horse as usual again. Everyone thought he was alright, but Bill knew better and that man’s disgusting voice kept bouncing around in his head. Arthur didn’t really eat. If he did, he came out at night when everyone went to bed, would grab himself a bowl and then retreat back to his tent. Speaking of, he never had the flaps of the tent pulled down either, but his was near identical to Dutch’s with how closed off it was. Arthur never came out during the day, if he wasn’t already gone by the time the sun rose. Hosea seemed worried about him too, but everytime he went to speak to Arthur, he was just met with short replies or a grumpy cowboy stomping out of camp. Dutch ain’t really seem to care. He watched Arthur sit away from everyone that morning, writing and furiously sketching in that journal of his. That was all. Bill wonders if anyone actually asked Arthur if he was alright. He reckoned he should. Arthur was sitting at the far end of the camp. Under a tree, shifting his gaze from the landscape to his journal. He looked alright, so far.

“Well good morning mister Morgan!”

Arthur looked over at him and then silently returned to drawing. Bill stopped when he was next to the other man.

“It in your habit to sit so far from the group?”

“They’ll live,” came the gruff reply.

Bill sighed. He went in his satchel and took out the nice brandy he’d looted some days ago. He was saving it for another camp party, but he needed a drink, and so did Arthur.

“Care to join me in a drink?”

He held out the bottle, offering it to him. Arthur looked up at Bill once and then back at the bottle. Bill was pleased when Arthur accepted the offer.

“Why you being so nice to me, Williamson? Thinking you might need someone to save your tail again and so you trying to butter me up?”

“You’re very funny, Mr. Morgan. I was just checking up on you. I know you…been through some things since last we spoke.”

“Leave me alone, Bill.” Arthur growled that sentence and Bill wondered if he would have to fight Arthur today.

“I honestly ain’t trying to poke fun at you. I’m just…I’m here if you need anything, okay? You ain’t got to go through whatever it is you’re feeling alone. I won’t tell the others, it ain’t there business, hell, it ain’t mine neither. If you don’t want to talk about it with me, then that’s fine too. I…I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Bill saw the way Arthur was a breath away from crying. He breathed quickly, his chest rising and then slowly steadying as he calmed himself. His eyes were fine again, no more gloss from the tears that welled up in them. In just a moment it looked like nothing had happened at all. Arthur took another swig from the bottle and then gave it back to Bill silently. He promptly picked his journal back up and resumed what he was doing while Bill awkwardly walked back to join the rest of the gang.