Work Text:
Arthur was sure that he had seen the pretty white horse run up the dang hill. It had looked a lot like the Count, its coat a pristine white, which had made it hard for him to follow the creature through the snow. Like most Arabians it was fast, faster than his trusty Shire Grimm, which made it even harder to catch - but Arthur knew that it would also make for a good race horse to sell to some fancy folk. He did that sometimes, when he needed time away from camp. Go out to look for horses that would make a pretty penny, tame them enough to be sold and then bring that money back to camp. Everyone had to do their part and he was happy to do his, especially if it involved horses. And it was a good excuse to get away from all of it - to take a break and breath, to just do his own thing. He knew that this time he had been gone for longer than usual, probably close to three weeks now. But it had felt good to be away from everyone. And now his travels had lead him back to the snow of Colter on the hunt for the Arabian.
What Arthur hadn't really considered though was that this horse was so much faster than his own. He loved Grimm to bits, he was a brave horse that could carry him easily and loved to learn little tricks as well, when he was bribed with a juicy apple slice. But he certainly wasn't a race horse and so the Arabian slipped away from his view again and again. Until night fell and he had no choice but to find shelter. Not only because of the dark but also because of the cold and the snow that had just started to fall down.
"Alright, boy, let's find someplace to stay warm …", he said, scratching Grimms neck as he looked around. Luckily he saw an old shed in the distance that might've housed some goats before, right next to the remnants of a tiny house. A tree had fallen through the roof of the house but the shed looked steady enough. "We'll find that pretty horse tomorrow", Arthur said to Grimm, assuring himself more than the horse. He had been ignoring his cough all day but now he also felt a headache forming behind his eyes. Oh, what he'd do for a warm stew now.
Arthur felt too exhausted to go out and collect firewood so he simply settled against the back wall of the shed which was open at the front, to stay away as far as possible from the snow and lay down on his sleeping pad. He couldn't hold back his coughing anymore now, a cough that he could feel burning in his lungs and that made him spit out phlegm. He knew that he was starting to get sick but it had gotten worse in such a short time that he hadn't really considered it a problem before he rode up to the icy mountain. Grimm huffed next to him, probably annoyed that he couldn't nibble on grass or sleep somewhere warm but before Arthur could really say anything to him he already drifted off to some restless sleep.
When he woke it was light outside again but Arthur felt nothing like sunshine. He was shivering and felt the sweat trickling down his forehead. Fuck. A fever was the last fucking thing he needed. A small part of him wondered if he could still catch that pretty white horse but he buried that thought immediately when he got up and almost fell because he swayed so much. If he hadn't leaned on Grimm for support he'd be on the ground already
"Alright boy … I think it's time to get somewhere warmer, don't you agree … " he mumbled as he lead Grimm out of the shed. He needed three tries until he finally had pulled himself up and into the saddle, secretly cursing himself that he chose such a gigantic horse as his companion. But when Grimm started walking into the right direction without prompting, just like he absolutely understood what Arthur's intention were, he knew why he had chosen him, "Good boah…" he said, patted his neck and then allowed himself to close his eyes. Horses knew how to find back to civilization, usually… and he trusted Grimm so he closed his eyes, just for a little bit …
"Arthur? Arthur!!"
Arthur needed a moment until he properly woke up. Taïma? Since when could she talk? But then he noticed Charles, standing next to her with a worried look on his face. "Charles …?"
"Where have you been? I've been looking for you for days now!"
He tried to answer. He really did. But before he could get out a proper word, the whole world went dark around him.
When he woke though he was wrapped up in a woven blanket with some fur thrown over him as well. He felt cold and hot at the same time, the sweat still on his forehead. Arthur blinked a couple of times while his eyes adjusted to the light of the fire that was dancing in front of him. As he stirred, he noticed movement next to him. For a second he didn't know where he was, he tried to get up but immediately felt a hand on his shoulder that easily pinned him down.
"Sssh, it's alright. Stay there … you've got a fever."
He recognized that voice. Charles. Why was he … ? And then he remembered. How sick he felt. Carried by Grimm through the snow, all on his own. Until he heard Taïma — no, Charles — call his name. And then everything had gone dark.
"Charles … ", he croaked, his tongue heavy and barely following his commands. He knew that Charles didn't like it when he stayed away for too long — not because he thought it was too dangerous (Charles himself rode off alone often enough) but because he said that he missed him. Oftentimes they rode off together and enjoyed the freedom of just setting up camp anywhere and sharing the bed but sometimes Arthur just needed to be alone for a week or two. And at some point, Charles always came looking for him — oftentimes ordered by Dutch because the man knew that Arthur would listen to him. Usually.
Charles moved closer to him, close enough that he could feel his legs through the thick blankets surrounding him, and pressed a wet cloth onto his burning forehead. "I'm glad you're awake again … You were burning up so bad I wasn't sure if I could get the fever down at all", he chided, his voice still soft and gentle. It was one of the things Arthur loved about him — how gentle he was when given the chance, away from the robberies and the harsh world that they were living in.
Arthur closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the wet cloth and his partners soothing voice. He was stubborn and self-sufficient enough to take care of himself, something that he had told Charles again and again but the other man had never given up on taking care of him until, eventually, Arthur got used to being taken care of, now and then. It was a nice feeling, in a way, to rely on someone else for a change. Charles started humming, a song Arthur didn't recognize and he slowly drifted off into the darkness again.
Arthur didn't know how much time had passed when he roused the second time but he could see early morning light shining in through the boards that held together the shack they were staying in. The light that Arthur had to squint against when he woke up the first time had simmered down to some red glowing wood in a little wood-stove right in front of him. Remnants of the people who once had occupied this shack, before they moved on and left it to the wilderness. A cold wind pushed through the shack and made Arthur shiver underneath his blankets. He felt more like himself again, that was for sure, but he still didn't feel healthy yet. And where was ..
"Charles?", he tried to call out but he could barely get the word out. He knew the man wouldn't just leave him alone again after taking care of him like this.
"I'm here, love", Charles said as he entered the shack and relief washed over Arthur. He knew that he would've survived this on his own (probably) but it was nice to know that he didn't have to. "I just got us some more wood for the fire."
Arthur sat up carefully as the other man opened the wood-stove and placed the wood inside. "How are you feeling?" He asked and sat down next to him.
"Like shit." Arthur immediately slumped against him and Charles, who chuckled softly, wrapped his wonderfully strong arms around him. They didn't have much time — or the space — for such gentle moments during their everyday lives and even though Arthur objectively felt like shit right now he enjoyed the closeness. For a moment it was quiet between them, peaceful and steady. They didn't need to talk much anyway, they just felt comfort in each other's presence. That was another one of the things that Arthur loved about Charles — he didn't expect anything of him. He knew that he needed his freedom but he also knew that sometimes he needed someone to lean onto. And somehow, Charles always found the right balance. Arthur could only hope that Charles felt the same way, that he was also someone Charles could rely on. Not right now, of course, but in general.
"You're an idiot for riding out in the snow all on your own. Especially when you're sick", Charles told him in a gentle voice. Of course Arthur knew.
"Had a good reason", Arthur started, his head resting against Charles chest. "There was a white Arabian 'round Lake Isabella. Wanted to catch it and break it in, would've made some good money. But Grimm was having trouble with the snow so … " A cough rippled through him, dry and painful and he was glad about the big hand that gently stroked over his back as he was going through it, his lungs burning as he tried to gain back his composure. God, he hated being sick and feeling useless.
"Robbing a dang bank would be less risky than running after a horse in the snow." Charles said with a smile dancing around his lips that Arthur just knew was there from the sound of his voice. He knew Charles was right. That didn't make him like his answer any more though.
"Where's Grimm? You didn't let the horses sleep out in he snow, did you?"
Charles gently shook his head. "No, they're safe, don't worry. There's another shed over there, it even had some grass to nibble on. Speaking of grass — I brought some herbs along. I will make you a tea to drink, it'll help against the cough", he said and slowly got up to give Arthur time to re-adjust his position. Arthur immediately missed the warm strong body next to him but he knew that it would be for the best. He probably should also eat something and as soon as he thought about it his stomach started grumbling. Charles chuckled softly. "Yeah, I'll also heat up a can of beans for you."
Arthur watched as Charles got to work, opening the can of beans with his knife and placing it on the stove to heat up, then bringing in a mug full of snow to melt on top of the stove, placing the herbs in as soon as it had melted into water. "We should give you another day of resting and then I'll bring you back to camp", Charles decided. Arthur wanted to protest but Charles gave him a stern look and he decided against it. Charles just knew him too well.
"Alright", Arthur eventually agreed and watched as Charles stirred the can of beans to make sure the bottom didn't get burned. He didn't look forward to coming back home to camp without anything of value to add to the camp funds — Dutch would nag him about it, he was sure — but Charles was right. It was a stupid idea to try and catch the white Arabian in this state. And who knew? Maybe they'd find something (or someone) on the way to rob, so that they wouldn't come home empty handed. After it had some time to steep, Charles took the mug of tea and handed it to Arthur, who took it and blew at the hot liquid before he carefully tried a bit of it.
"Ugh, tastes like ass", he said as he scrunched up his nose.
"Well, you seem to like the taste of my ass, so …" Charles said with a short, dirty grin and Arthur had to chuckle — which ended in some more coughing. Shit, he couldn't even properly laugh anymore.
Charles got a bottle of whiskey from his satchel and topped up the tea with it. "Nothing a little whiskey can't fix." He wasn't sure of Charles meant the taste or the coughing — but Arthur was sure that it would help with both of that.
He tried another sip and hummed at the well-known burning down his throat and the warm feeling in his chest. "Oh, much better", he said and gave Charles a smile who smiled back at him. He tipped his head back as he took a swing of the whiskey himself and then grabbed the beans before he sat down next to Arthur once again. Charles pulled a blanket around their shoulders and Arthur leaned against him once again. He still felt awful but this was good. The man he loved next to him and a hot drink with a good punch in his hand. He softly sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Thank you … " he said in a low voice. "For looking for me." He didn't take it for granted, that he just followed him this far, halfway up a damn mountain and into the snow. He was used to Dutch sending people after him if he strayed too far, but that had always felt like him yanking back the leash that he felt had gotten too long. Arthur knew that Dutch needed him, to keep the gang running, to keep everyone well fed. And he liked to play the role, to do what needed to be done, to be the workhorse around camp. But few had ever asked him how he was. Few had ever taken care of him or told him to rest. There was always more money to make and more places to rob. More animals to hunt or fish to catch.
And then Charles had joined them and had changed everything. Now he knew that there was someone else he could rely on. Charles had asked him how he was, had followed him out to help him with hunting, had followed him to make sure he was alright. Even when Dutch sent our Charles to go after him, Charles would always make sure that he was ready to return before they did. Would always make sure that he was okay.
"I'd follow you to the end of the world," Charles returned just as soft. "You should know that by now."
He heard the smile in his voice and opened his eyes to look at him. Charles had taught him a new kind of love, one that he hadn't known before. Steady and true. Two equals, both independend but happy to be with each other. He hoped that he'd never lose this. Lose him. "I do, yeah," he leaned over to kiss Charles' lips but was stopped by him.
"No kisses as long as you're sick. Have some beans." He held out the can towards him, the spoon sticking out of it. Arthur groaned dramatically but he knew that Charles had far more self control than he himself had. So he took the spoon and stuffed his face with a spoonful of beans to appease his boyfriend, shortly chewed and gulped it down with his Whiskey-tea. A true feast.
With every bite and every sip he started to feel better, some energy slowly getting back into him. But when he got up later to follow nature's call he had to admit that Charles had been right to decide to stay for another night. He was not ready to travel. So they spent their day playing cards and (in Arthur's case) napping. Charles made him another "tea" and on the end of the day they cuddled together in a nest of blankets and furs. Arthur's fever had gotten up again but not dangerously so and Charles had decided that a good amount of rest would be enough to fix him up again.
And so he lay in Charles' arms, wrapped in blankets, and breathed in his smell. Leather and herbs. He felt safe and protected and loved, something he only ever felt with Charles. And as he fell asleep once more he couldn't stop thinking about how lucky he was to have him and be loved by him. How lucky he was to have him by his side, his arms around him and his heartbeat in his ear, lulling him to sleep. Oh how he loved this man.