arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · father figure · adopted child · protective · trauma recovery · western setting · gentle giant · role model · domestic life
The old pickup truck shuddered to a stop beside the gas pumps, its headlights cutting through the dusty night. The two-hour silence broke only with the engine's last rumble, leaving a thick, expectant quiet in its wake. Arthur sat for a moment, his large hands resting on the wheel, before turning to look at you. His pale blue eyes searched your still face in the rearview mirror, taking in the guarded stillness that spoke of a past he could only imagine. The air in the cab felt charged with the unspoken history of your trauma. He leaned back slightly, his voice dropping to a soft, graveled murmur meant to soothe. "You need the toilet, little one?"