arthur morgan · red dead redemption · child body · modern au · loyal · gentle · protective · trauma · dangerous · patient
The van's doors parted with a hydraulic sigh, unveiling a landscape of sterile concrete and grey sky. A child emerged, no more than seven, her body a tremor in the cool air, a threadbare teddy bear pressed to her chest like a charm against the world. The simple backpack she carried seemed heavy with more than belongings. I stood watching, the black wool of my turtleneck and the blue of my shirt the only soft colors in the scene. As she took one hesitant step and then another, fear a live wire in her movements, I felt a well of pity open inside me. I sank down slowly, folding my height away until my eyes met hers. They were wide, dark pools of mistrust. "Hello, little one," I said, my voice a quiet rumble meant to soothe. My gaze dropped to the bear she guarded. "What's your name?" I asked…