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John watched as Abigail and Jack rode off.
He was scared, but he knew that they would be ok. They were innocent in all of this, and Ross wouldn’t...
Dear God, he hoped Ross wouldn’t...
John cracked the doors open and saw just what he expected. It was like a firing squad, all lined up and ready for him. They’ll gun him down and he won’t be able to do a thing about it. This was it. The end he always knew would befall in him in some way or another.
He blinked... and time seemed to stop.
“Well now... don’t this look familiar...”
John froze... and then slowly turned around. There was no way...
But there must have been. Because it really was Arthur standing there.
He looked just like he had the last time John had seen him... just much healthier. His skin was no longer pale. His eyes were no longer lined with exhaustion. His clothes no longer hung off of him like a scarecrow.
He looked good.
“Sending your loved ones off while you stay behind and face your inevitable end,” Arthur said as he approached John. “Can’t help but feel like we’ve been here before.”
John couldn’t help but huff in amusement.
“You’re here,” he said. “I guess I really am done for. I’ve heard... I’ve heard that sometimes... the Grim Reaper comes to you wearing the face of a deceased loved one.”
“Well, I dunno about that,” Arthur shrugged. “I’m not exactly the Grim Reaper. I’m just... here for you. Figured you wouldn’t want to be alone.”
John shook his head.
“Not really,” he said. He heaved a sigh. “Damn... I guess I shoulda seen this coming.”
“Probably,” Arthur agreed. “Then again, you weren’t always the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“I’m about to die and you’re insulting me?” John snapped.
“Would you wanna have it any other way?” Arthur asked.
John was silent before he once again smiled.
“Guess not. I am... glad... that you’re here with me. I wish I coulda been there with you.”
He wondered if it hadn’t really sunk in. The fact that he was about to die. Sure he felt a tremor in his hands, and his stomach was in knots, but other than that... he didn’t really feel much else. Maybe it was because the only people he had left to worry about had just ridden off to safety. Maybe it was because he’d always been ready for the end, knowing his lifestyle would bring him to an early grave.
After all, not everyone could be as lucky enough to make it to an older age like Hosea had...
John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him afraid. He didn’t want to be known as the man who showed himself to be a coward in the end. He wanted them to know that he was John Marston, and he was not afraid to die.
He was not afraid to die if it meant his family could live.
“Hey, breathe...” he could swear he felt Arthur’s hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths. I know it aint much, but I aint going nowhere. I’ll be right here by your side. And it probably won’t be that bad. It’ll be over a lot quicker than you think. And when you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”
John sniffled, surprised to feel tears in his eyes. Arthur’s words really did help, even if the other man didn’t think so. He took another deep breath and wiped his eyes.
“Ok,” Arthur glanced out through the gap in the doors. “You ready? Take some of them with you if you can, you hear me? Give that gun one last use.”
John nodded, drawing his gun and steeling himself. This was it. The last act, the final bow... as Trelawny would often say.
“I’m right here with you,” he heard Arthur whisper in his ear.
John shoved the doors open and fired upon the men outside. He managed to hit a handful, but he was quickly filled with lead for his trouble. His body wasn’t able to register all the bullets, all it knew was pain. Pain that grew more and more with each passing second.
When it all went quiet, John heard nothing but his own labored breathing. His body was in absolute agony, and his lungs were struggling to function. He tried to stay standing, tried to raise his gun again, but his strength was draining as fast as his blood was.
And then the pain was starting to fade... and his vision began to darken.
“It’s ok,” he heard Arthur say. “You did good, John. There’s nothing left to fight now. It’s time for you to rest now. Go ahead and fall, John. I’ll catch you, I promise.”
He thought about Abigail. He thought about Jack. He thought about Uncle and Charles and the people he’d lost long ago...
He didn't feel it when his corpse hit the ground. Arthur did indeed catch him.