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cowboisadness · 3 years

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Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}

Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.

Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. SMUT IS HERE! 18+ ONLY!!

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Chapter 4 - Together

The next few days were nothing short of torture. Arthur never spoke another word to me, huffing whenever I would say something to him or just walking away from me completely. Everyone else in camp soon noticed something serious had happened between us. Their comforting words and questions on what happened went unanswered and dismissed. I hoped time would help, that I would get a chance to explain myself and apologise for my foolishness and downright stupidity. But as the days passed, the frayed ends of the rope had no chance of being reconnected, no matter how hard I tried and how hard I cried. So I flung myself into as many jobs as I could get. As a distraction.

Robbing homesteads. Stagecoaches that turned into shootouts more often than not. Gambling with fellers that were too drunk to notice me stealing their wears from right under their noses and gone before they realised anything was amiss. Fighting in hidden alleyways with meagre men that thought they could take on a woman with nothing to lose. Just to feel something, another kind of pain that would lessen with time.

It wasn’t until I was sat at the edge of the camp, cleaning my revolver while looking out over the overlook, stars raining bright above. Bottle of whiskey by my side that Hosea came over and sat beside me. Silent at first. Taking in the view.

“You going to explain whats going on?”

“Nothings going on, Hosea.” I shrugged, running the oiled cloth over the same spot mindlessly. “Arthur won’t tell me. I though out of the two of you, you would.” he kept his eyes ahead, not bothering to look at me. I sighed, my shoulders dropping in defeat. I might as well tell him, not like he would be able to change my mind.

“I’m an idiot. I spoke to Mary. Told her to leave Arthur alone and to stop contacting him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know anymore...Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You love him.” I could see his grin out of the corner of my eye, albeit a sad on.

“Not you too, Hosea.”

“You two were very close. Closer than you think I realise. I’m not a dumb old man you know”

I didnt reply to that. No point to, my mind was made up now. Instead, I holstered my gun and stood, picking up the bottle as I did. Turning to Hosea to finally look at him.

“I’m leaving, Hosea. Only for a few weeks or a few months. I don’t know.”

“You really think leaving will help?” “Maybe. It might help him if I’m not here. I’ll send money and write to you and Dutch. I’ve already packed.” After a few more words and questions on my plans when I’m out there on my own, we hugged and I said my goodbyes to him, Dutch and a few others. Promising the girls I will see them again, even though I was doubtful. I willed no tears to spill when I gathered my things, leaving my tent bare and hollow. Mounting my horse I left camp without looking back, letting the wind guide me in whatever direction it wanted me to go.

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Roughly 4 months had passed since leaving. Currently holed up in a now-abandoned cabin in the depths of Grizzlies East by O’Creagh’s run, hiding from the law after robbing the fence in Van Horne. Id wrote letters and sent money to nearby stations as promised. Keeping updated with the gangs coming and goings. The last time I heard from those who would write back, mainly Hosea and Mary-Beth, was when they were held up in a place called Shady Belle. I haven’t heard anything from them since. That was a month ago. I had thought of going there, finding them. But I couldn’t bare having to leave again after realising they had been getting on fine and had left me to my own devices. Coming to the conclusion that I was not returning and that I had abandoned them all. Which was far from the truth. I still cared, which I’m sure was evident from whatever leftover money I had been sending to them. Only, it wasn’t getting picked up from the stations anymore, along with my many letters. I was travelling back to the cabin after an evening hunting for supper and hopeful breakfast. The blanket of trees now behind me, opening up the wondrous starry night, pulling my jacket closed as the cold breeze this time of year began to sting any uncovered skin. I looked around before dismounting, taking my kill of two rabbits stowed on the side of my ever faithful horse and made my way inside. Looking around once more to make sure I hadn’t been followed. Just to be safe. As I began to skin and gut the meat, the warm glow from the lantern lighting my every movement in the otherwise dark cabin, I heard motion outside. Bears and wolves were not uncommon around these parts. I had to shoot my way out of a wolf pack not a week ago, coming away with nothing but a bruise on my hip from being bucked off the horse in her desperate attempt to flee. Nevertheless, I placed down the knife and picked up my rifle propped up against the door. Looking out the window to the right of the door. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing else. I went to the door, preparing my rifle then placing my ear to the door. It was silence for a few moments, then movement again, making its way up the steps. It didn’t sound like an animal. With a hand on the handle and rifle ready to be used, I swung the door open. The rifle now aimed at the unwelcomed guest.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, but it didnt take long to recognise who it was.

“Arthur?” It was barely a whisper. A question of disbelief. I blinked a few times, surely my eyes were playing tricks on me.

After a few breaths, he finally spoke “I’ve found you.” We just stood there, I released a breath I didnt even know I was holding. How did he find me? Why would he? Months of keeping myself away from people the best I could and staying hidden for long periods of time I was beginning to feel content with being a lone wolf. Not thinking that lone wolves are weakened beings after too long. Often driven out when deemed useless or a weakness to the pack, or leaving to find their own family. Not alone forever, wolves would struggle and go insane.

But he, of all people, found me. The only question now is why. And that was the only thing I could say as I lowered the gun.

“Why?”

He told me everything that happened. The downfall, the betrayal, the heartbreak. Those that we lost. Everyone gone in one way or another. Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Hosea, Molly, Miss Grimshaw. Dead. Saint Denis bank, Guarma, Micah working with the Pinkertons. In the end, Micah had turned Dutch against almost everyone, whispering little worms into his ear until they grew and grew to leave no room for anything else.

Dutch turning his back on Him and John. Leaving John to bleed out and leaving Arthur on that mountain. Where he thought would be his final resting place. But once the sun was up, high in the sky, he found the energy to live. To heal. To find me.

And that’s what he did the last few weeks until he heard whispers of someone fitting my description that caused a bit of hell in Van Horn. He knew he was close.

“But...why did you want to find me?” I asked. Both of us sat around the small table below the window, two empty whiskey glasses before us.

He took in a deep breath, his perfect blue eyes meeting my bloodshot and watery ones. “I wanted to the moment I was told you left,” He leaned over, taking my hands in his.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months. Especially in the last few weeks. What you did before you left, I understand now why.”

“But I hurt you.” letting a sob escape, my body starting to tremble and I’m sure he could feel it in my hands.

“It did hurt. But losing you hurt even more,” He said, nothing more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving mine and his hold on my hands not faltering as he continued. “I remember what you said to me that night years ago. ‘Bout not knowing how much I mean to you. Well - I - I do. Because I feel the same. Always have. it just took me a while to realise it I guess.”

I couldn’t stop the tears. The damn had busted open. Within seconds he was on me, his arms enveloping me, my hands coming to purchase on his shirt. Neither of us wanted to let go, out of fear the other would disappear into the air like dust in the morning rays. We held each other for what felt like an eternity, my tears slowing and the shaking subsiding. I lifted my head from where it was perched on his chest to look at him, our eyes locked once more. No words were spoken but I could see it in the depths of those pools, the forgiveness and longing. And I was sure my eyes mirrored the same. His hand came up to cradle my face and I instinctively leaned into him, my breathing hitching despite the calmness that washed over me. Then I looked into his eyes again, only to be met with a look I had not seen in many years. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could he surged forward, his lips on mine. It was delicate, more fragile than any other kiss we had shared. It wasn’t long until that fragility turned into desperation, my hands at the nape of his neck, his on my waist. My mind was running a million miles a minute, all thoughts of him and this moment. Feeling like we were young lovers again. His hands roamed my sides as I gripped his hair, keeping each other glued to one another. My body began to burn up, feelings I had repressed for months pushing their way to the surface, refusing to be drowned. We broke apart and he pulled me to stand, his lips now on my neck, trailing wet kisses from below my ear to the hollow of my neck, causing me to moan. He looked at me then, desperation and pleading etched upon his face before I kissed him again. Kissing the scar on his chin that was easily visible within the stubble, his jaw, down to his neck and then his chest. Pushing off his jacket and suspenders with it. My fingers returned to the front of his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly as he pushed me back into the direction of the bed. My legs soon coming into contact with the edge. His hands now making a start on my blouse, pulling it from the confines of my pants and lifting it over my head. My hands roaming his chest and snaking down to his abdomen, stroking the hair there, causing him to tense at my touch. He always was a fine man, built from hard work that I couldn't help but adore. His arms wrapping around to my back to undo the corsets lacing, completely surrounding me and all I could smell was him. Horse, rain, sweat and something that was just so undoubtedly him. Undoing his gun belt was muscle memory, hitting the floor with a thud, my corset following, now both bare from the waist up. We couldn’t wait any longer, our lips on each other once again as we worked on unbuttoning our pants. He leaned me down to lay on the bed, my legs hanging over the sides as he wasted no time to pull off the rest of my clothing. Laying there propped up on my elbows I watched as he raked his eyes over every curve, scar and freckle on my body. Kneeling between my legs he drew kisses from my knee up my thigh, getting oh so close to where I wanted him to be. He looked up at me once more, giving a shuddering breath before his mouth landed between my legs, soft but purposeful strokes easily pulling moans from me. He didn’t let up, devouring me like a man starved as he paid close attention to my little bundle of nerves. My body shaking again but for a whole different reason. It had been too long and I knew I wasn’t going to last if he kept going for a minute longer. My hands fisting the bedsheets I tried to speak but it was useless, squirming from the sensations. Lifting my legs to rest on his shoulders feeling him moan against me, the vibration causing bolts of electricity to fire through my whole body and land at my core. I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching and my hand flew down to card through his hair, holding him there. My body convulsed as I tipped off the edge, my head rolling back as the blinding pleasure washed over me, moaning his name into the air. Arthur was above kissing me within seconds, tasting myself on his tongue and lips. Catching my breath he pushed me further up the bed until my head hit the plush pillows. Removing his pants and then situating himself between my legs. I could feel him pressed up against my thigh, hot and swollen and begging for attention. And oh how my body craved to give him what he needed. His eyes met mine, hooded and filled with lust. Silently asking for permission. I nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead and placing my hands on his shoulders. Electrifying jolts surged through my core as he strokes himself along my slit tenderly. His skin burning to my touch and looking downright drunk. Completely intoxicated. He sinks into me slowly. My body soon getting accustomed to the memory of him as he bottoms out, his hips meeting my thighs. My breath hitches as he bites back a moan. Both of us taking a moment just to bask in the feeling of one another like this again. It all felt the same but so different. He kissed the scar on my collar bone that he only got to see before when it was fresh. We had been through so much over the years we would need to learn about each other again. But one thing remained the same; my body yeard for him. He pulled out before setting a languid pace, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him to go deeper, his pace quickening and lifting my hips to meet him, Chasing our pleasure. One hand in my hair, tangled up with my locks as his other hand firmly grasped my hip. The look on his face was evidence that he was holding back, needing to completely lose himself in me. And I felt the same. “Arthur...Please.” I purred, not needing to say anymore. His pace quickened with a grunt, one that was a borderline growl. My moans and the sounds of skin on skin filling the air and our ears as he kept hitting that sweet spot. My nails forming crescents on his shoulders. Pulling him down to crush my lips against his, our teeth clicking and tongues dancing together. Pulling back suddenly with swollen lips as the pressure began to build, my whole body trembling more and more as I got higher and higher. Moaning out his name as his rhythm began to falter. Nuzzling into my neck and mumbling ‘oh, fuck,’ in that gravelly but wanton voice. His hand on my hip made its way between my legs, rubbing in quick circles. I couldn’t hold back. That coil within me growing tighter and tighter before snapping. My back arching as the shockwaves rocked through me. Slowing his pace slightly to ride me through it before picking up his pace again, chasing his pleasure with a few more pumps of his hips and he stilled. His hand like a vice on my thigh as he spent himself inside me with a drawn-out moan. It took us a few moments to get our breath back. Pulling himself from me causing me to whimper from the empty feeling and sensitivity. He moved to lay beside me and pulled me to lay with my head on his shoulder. Neither of us willing to clean ourselves up just yet. My skin now acknowledging the cold air around us. The thin sheen of sweat cooling me. Nothing was said for a while as he held me close until he broke the silence to place a kiss to the top of my head then lifting my chin for my face to meet his. “I love you,” he said. My eyes getting blurry from the confession I never thought I would hear. But looking at him I knew it was true. His eyes shone with adoration. I smiled weakly before kissing him once. Looking back into his eyes and with no hesitation, I said out loud what id only heard myself mutter in my dreams. “I love you too."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #smut #rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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On Your Bedroom Floor with Her By Your Side (Kate the Chaser X F!Reader)

On Your Bedroom Floor with Her By Your Side

[Kate the Chaser/Kate Milens-Hayes X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language, minor violence, none really]

[AN: I started my oneshot book on quotev because I loved Kate that much]

You weren’t supposed to even know she existed. In fact, the way she found you was entirely an accident over winter break your freshman year of college.

Your parents had been out on a well needed vacation and left you home to handle the house. That was fine, you needed the time off and wanted to relax as much as you could before getting back into the swing of school in January. You spent most of your time moving about, pleased that you had the space to branch out and do what you pleased. This included listening to your music without headphones and generally, being weird without anyone to judge you.

A few days into your well needed alone time, you had laid in your bed watching videos on your phone. The house was dark and quiet, easily giving off the appearance that no one was home. On your own, you were naturally pretty silent when night fell over the land.

That’s what led Kate to make her first mistake.

Somehow, she had gotten separated from her group. It was supposed to be a simple clearing, a one and done it kind of deal, but they were essentially ambushed. Masky got shot pretty bad, so Toby’s priority was getting the group leader out and to safety. Hoodie stayed behind with Kate to finish the clearing, but they were swarmed. They had to abandon the operation and return to it later, or perhaps, another group would take it over. Hoodie yelled for Kate to scatter and that he’d get them off her trail. What a selfless guy, always watching out for the proxies in his group. And she obeyed him because he was Masky’s right hand. On her way out, she’d gotten shot. From what she could feel, it wasn’t fatal, but it still hurt like hell.

She stumbled while sprinting through the woods and found her sense of direction totally shot. This was a relatively new area to her and her group; she hadn’t committed it to memory just yet. No matter, she could return to them in the morning. She was probably too far to send out any mental notes to her comrades, but she attempted anyway just so they wouldn’t stay up worrying about her. Kate eventually stumbled upon this empty looking house and quickly deduced that the owners must’ve fled this cold place for somewhere warmer for the winter. Perfect! She’d spend the night there, fix herself, and leave without a trace.

Kate grit her teeth as she trudged through the snow and eventually, dragged herself to the back door. The wound on her side felt like ice, and the freezing temperature was not helping her feel any better. With a slight grimace, she pulled her coat sleeve over her fist and punched through the glass of the door. It shattered surprisingly easily and that alone made her raise her brows. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kate opened the back door and threw most of her caution to the wind as she shut the door behind her. There were no neighbors, so she could turn on the lights and no one would care. Kate flicked on the kitchen lights and began working her ‘in real life magick’ after she shed her coat haphazardly on the counter.

Upstairs, you heard quite a commotion going on downstairs. Immediately alarm bells rang in your head. Your parents weren’t due to come back until much, much later. There was an intruder. You slipped out of bed, phone in hand and began to creep out of your room. From where you stood at the top of the stairs, you could see the lights turned on and someone’s shadow dancing across the floor followed by pained muttering.

You took a tentative step down and immediately panicked when it creaked. Time seemed to slow.

“Shit,” you heard your intruder mumble.

A tense second later and you heard they were running towards your direction. You screeched in surprise when you finally caught a glimpse of them and high tailed it back up the stairs, the image of their mask burned into your skull. After all, there was no way a human looked like that.

They chased you up the stairs when you narrowly made it back to your room, accidentally dropping your phone in the process right when you slammed your bedroom door shut as it acted as the only barrier between you and the intruder.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You cried out as you locked the door, then quickly worked on piling various things in your room against it.

They didn’t pound on your door, nor did they try to violently enter the room, but the doorknob did jiggle a tad too much for your comfort. “Look,” the feminine voice said. “I’m in a lot of pain right now. I don’t have the time to deal with you. If you stay in there and don’t try running or telling anyone about me, I’ll do what I have to and be out of your hair before the morning.” You heard her tap at the door a few times. “Besides, where are you gonna go in a snowstorm like this? Your phone is out here with me, and as far as I can see, no one is coming for you any time soon. Even if you did have your phone, authorities wouldn’t be able to reach you,” she said as she tried to reason with you. “Don’t do anything stupud, and I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Don’t even think about taking anything-” you began, eyebrows furrowing in rage. You balled your fists and glared at the door while you attempted to control your breathing.

“There’s nothing here I want but medical supplies,” she waved off, clearly exhausted. “I got shot, princess.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “You got shot?”

“I’m not explaining this to you; I don’t have the time,” she sighed in an exasperated tone. You heard her pad away from your door and to the direction of the upstairs bathroom. “You got first aid in here?” You heard her ask.

You wonder if you should answer her or not-

“Never mind,” she said, effectively cutting you from your thoughts.

An awkward silence falls between the two of you for about half an hour as she works on herself. You’re almost certain she’s ready to leave when you hear your phone ring. You instinctively glanced down at your hand only to remember she still has it.

“It’s your mom,” she said, voice on the other side of your door. “Do you uh, want to answer it or not?”

Of course you wanted to answer it.

“Look, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything. You can literally just stick your arm out and I’ll hand you the phone.”

You find yourself more than apprehensive.

“Tell you what,” she said, verbally looking down at the ringing device. “I give you the phone and you let me leave and I won’t hurt you so long as you don’t tell anyone about me.”

Hesitantly, you found yourself cracking the door open to get a good look at the woman who broke into your house. She’s still wearing that mask, but her eyes are so dark it’s like looking in the recesses of the universe and getting pulled into them. She’s not terribly tall, but she’s still taller than you. She looks tired - her body sags slightly. The shot must’ve taken it out of her.

“Give it to me,” you mumbled.

Without any words, she handed you the device, momentarily stopping you before you answered it. “I’ll be back soon to ensure you’re not talking about me. Have fun talking to your mom,” she nonchalantly stated, then nodded for you to answer it.

You shot her a more than confused look before finally answering your mother’s call.

And that was the start of your very strange relationship with the woman you came to know as Kate the Chaser. Though, she preferred you just called her Kate. Kate was a very odd woman, and she was only like, a year or so older than you. The second time she visited, she still had a mask on - something about privacy. You wondered often why she wore it, but she always claimed she had a reason, just could never tell you.

It was odd to admit how you had grown used to her visits. After the first few rocky visits, the two of you had established a schedule. Kate would only visit on the weekends, and your parents could never know she was here. That was fine - she often climbed up to your bedroom window anyways. Sometimes, the two of you would sit on the roof and star gaze. It became all too apparent that Kate enjoyed spending time with you. And slowly, you found yourself enjoying your time with her as well.

The two of you grew to like each other’s time so much that right at the eve of your graduation, she was the first person to wish you congratulations.

She had come into your room like she normally did, by climbing and knocking on your window with a special knock before you let her in. Truthfully, she could have just lifted the thing herself, but she felt it rude and an invasion of privacy (which you found ironic.) After hoisting herself into your room, she took her spot on your bedroom floor, thankful you had a mug of warm tea waiting for her.

“I graduate tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, plucking your mug up from your desk. “I’d kinda like if you were there.”

“I’d love to be, you know that,” Kate replies before taking an appreciative sip of the liquid. “I… I don’t think my boss or my coworkers would be pleased, though. Besides, I’m kinda nocturnal,” she chuckles, making you giggle in response.

In the back of your mind, you wondered why she couldn’t do so many things with you. Everything had been chalked up to her boss, her coworkers, herself. And any time you tried to pry it out of her, she went tight lipped, like she was afraid of telling you anything relating to her. Still, you knew enough of her. She was sarcastic, had a smile like the stars in the sky. And was incredibly knowledgeable on topics you’d never even thought to consider in your daily life. You knew her work, that much was apparent just by looking at her, but you wondered what type of work it was to keep her from you when the sun was out. You knew it was shady, but in order to keep her, you had to resist pushing. “It would be so much better if you were,” you continue, throwing your best puppy dog eyes.

Kate playfully rolls her eyes before ruffling your hair. “Not this time, princess.”

“I legitimately only graduate once,” you reply with a smirk painting itself onto your lips.

“It’s why I came tonight,” she continues as she gestures to the two of you on the floor. “Thought I’d bring you some little gifts to celebrate.” She slings the backpack off her back and opens the biggest pocket. Her hands rummage for a moment before she procures a medium sized leather book. “Here’s the first thing,” she places it in the space between you. “And the next.” out pops a set of high grade art supplies. “This,” now there’s a small little gift basket full of treats you enjoy. “And this thing.” It is a plush giraffe and is donned with a graduation cap.

You smile widely and look over the objects with fascination, gently holding them. The leather journal fascinates you the most. “Where did you get these?” You ask with that same smile.

“Here and there,” Kate answers, her eyes looking over the things she’s gotten for you.

“Thank you so much,” you say in a grateful tone, closing the gap between you and Kate with a hug.

She quietly giggles and hugs you back, her lips pressing to the side of your head. “I’m proud of you, y’know that?”

The two of you chat for a bit more before finally turning to a streaming service. Your parents thankfully, haven’t heard either of you over the sound of some anime playing on the screen, so you’re able to cuddle next to her on the floor and giggle about the world and its happenings as she holds you in her arms. You stay like this until her gaze goes blank, like she’s getting a message only she can hear.

“Have to go,” she says softly. It’s nearing 4 am.

“So soon?” You whisper back, hand holding hers like she’s the only thing grounding you.

“Yeah, work,” she mumbles, quietly standing up to not make too much noise in the quiet house (save for that anime that’s still playing in the background). “I’ll be back before you know it.” She tries to reassure you, her hand gently cupping your cheek.

Your hand meets hers and gently squeezes before she reluctantly leaves your side, heading towards the window. You stand and pad over to her, arms wrapping around her waist and face burying into her back. She smells like the forest. “No,” you mumble.

“His word is law,” she sighs while attempting to turn around to hold you properly. When she can’t get free of your iron grip, she tries something else. “Hey, first thing, you need to rest before the graduation ceremony and, second, just remembered I wanted to give you this.”

You look up from her chest and see she’s unclasping the necklace that’s captivated your attention since you first met her. Your eyes widen slightly when you realize she’s putting it on you. Your hands instinctively reach to look at the pendant, and with it, she’s able to move.

“Promise I’ll be back, so, take good care of it for me,” Another kiss to the top of your head and she’s out the window faster than you can even look up.

You rush to the windowsill to see her running towards the forest with three figures waiting at its edge for her.

She momentarily turns around, waves to you, then disappears into the woods with them.

You feel a slight pang in your heart, but holding the pendant between your fingertips quells it until she returns.

#kate the chaser #kate millens #kate hayes #creepypasta #slender the arrival #creepypasta x reader #kate the chaser x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #established relationship

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norafike · 3 years

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Despite all this, I still love you 21

I would like to thank my dear friends @journal-of-an-outlaw and @bucketofcowboys for taking the time to beta read this for me. Please be sure to go check them and out and give them a follow, some of the loveliest people I have met here.

“Easy now.” His voice was gentle and calming. Nora rested comfortably in his arms and while it still hurt for someone to touch her flesh he did it so softly she almost did not notice.

“Arthur?” She croaked, her voice sore and the male nodded slowly.

“Albert, don't suppose you could help me get her up onto the back of my horse there.”

She couldn't hear what the two men spoke about and she startled when this stranger moved her. Unlike Arthur, he was not gentle in his actions and she almost cried out from the pain that shot throughout her body at his harshness. Arthur scolded Albert on it once and while he was more careful in what he was doing, there was no drastic difference.

“You hold on, Nora.” Arthur told her, but the words fell upon deaf ears and she almost fell off the back of his horse when he spurred her into movement.

They rode at a gentle pace and even though they barely moved along the trail she still held on for dear life, fearing that a fall from the horse would injure herself further after all that had gone on.

She wasn't sure how many cuts or bruises she had left from Colm and was afraid to look and see. She was grateful to not be bleeding as much, but hell, did everything hurt.

“What happened to you, Nora?” Arthur demanded to know, the stress obvious in his voice as he nearly shouted

She was too weak to talk at length but she managed to let his name slip in a gasp. “Colm.”

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed when he caught the name and turned quickly to face his original companion. Albert looked just as concerned as Arthur was despite having no idea on the severity of the situation with the O'Driscoll's being involved.

“Mr. Mason!”

“Yes?”

“You head on back to wherever you were stayin', I need to take my friend here back home.. keep an eye on the roads and if any nasty lookin' people jump out, shoot them.”

Albert seemed displeased with the instruction but nodded reluctantly in agreement regardless. He shot Arthur a quick look, the worry apparent in his eyes at the almost lifeless Nora. “Farewell, Mr. Morgan.”

...

Lem paced back and forth in the campgrounds, the mud under him worn down so the ground was no longer level. He didn't listen to anything said by either his own Aunt Maggie or Cripps. No matter how hard they tried to calm him down from his worry he paid them no mind and continued to fear the worse for Nora.Even Marcel who wasn't particularly fond of the Fike boy had spoken with him a couple of times before giving up and passing over a bowl of stew that was left uneaten.

His pacing wore on Maggie's nerves and eventually she aimed her cane just behind him and shot into the tree, splintering the trunk. Lem jumped back, looking at his aunt in dismay.

“What the hell?” He cried out but she only gave him a stern look in warning.

“Pacing isn't going to do anythin', Lem. You're only getting on our nerves.”

Lem was bewildered at the harshness in her tone, choosing to ignore his Aunt and not argue back to her.

He left the camp to sit on an old rock near the roads, wearing a brave face no matter how much he wanted to break down and cry.

Cripps got up to speak with him but Maggie held her cane out to stop him, instead choosing to steer him towards the table to sit down. She slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite and leaned forward to speak quietly that nobody else could pick up on her words.

“If she's dead make sure to ease him into it. Tellin' him bluntly ain't gonna help.”

“She ain't dead, Maggie.” Cripps sighed. “How could you say that?”

“JB she's been gone for days and the only thing any of you found was a gun and a horse, she's unarmed out there and you know what she gets like. You don't know if she's dead or not.”

“And you don't know, Nora. That woman's been caught in an explosion because of your nephew and got out fine.”

Maggie's expression didn't falter; she held that same harsh gaze. “Just don't go giving him false hope.” She left the table soon after and, using her hand, waved for Marcel to come back with her to the moonshine shack.

Even though It was the simplest conversation it left him mad. Cripps got up from the table and ignored his former admirer's warning, approaching Lem as he sat sulking. “She'll be fine.”

The sound of twigs snapping brought Lem and Cripp’s attention and both men turned to look over at the tree line, in time to see one angry face marching towards them.

“Shit.” Lem whispered under his breath as he stood up.

“Hello, Morgan.” He greeted, although rather reluctantly, but she shot him one mean glare and he bit back on his tongue.

“You gonna tell me what happened to Nora?” She bitterly asked, crossing her arms and standing firmly before him. He ignored the question and turned back towards Cripps, pointing a finger towards her.

“This is a friend of Nora's, Morgan Canaday.”

“I'll be leavin' you two to talk.” Cripps said as he began to slowly back away, uninterested in getting involved with this new trouble Lem had been found in.

“So, where's Nora?” Morgan asked again but this time she spoke a lot more slowly.

“We're l-lookin' out for her.”

“Like shit you are, if anyone was really puttin' in the effort then she'd have been found already.” Morgan growled slightly at the eye roll he gave her and leaned forward, intimidating him enough so that he backed away from her.

“Listen, you better pray for your sake that Nora is fine, Fike.” She sneered. Any words Lem had were caught in his throat and he could only manage a small squeak to reply. Morgan nodded slowly but the tough exterior never faltered.

“You know where I'll be if you need anythin', but you make sure she gets home safely, understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.”

Morgan disappeared amongst the trees again and when she was far enough gone Lem was finally able to let out a long breath. “Fuck.” He mumbled so nobody could hear before returning back to the camp where everyone else waited.

...

The journey was a lot longer than anticipated but it was what should have been expected given the slow pace Arthut travelled at. Eventually, they returned to Shady Belle with Nora still breathing.

“Abigail!” The man called for as he dismounted. Nora swayed back and forth, ready to fall but Arthur reached forward to lift her off of the animal. Abigail came marching around the corner and gasped the minute her eyes set on Nora as he carried her towards the plantation house. , She turned back towards John who had been following and whispered something incoherent that Arthur couldn't hear.

“What the hell happened?” She asked, but Arthur simply shook his head as he didn't know.

“Found her this way, Abigail. Said it was Colm.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Afraid not.” He sighed. “I had to take her here if the O’Driscolls were involved.”

Abigail nodded and waved Arthur to follow her indoors. John had already set up a bedroll near the fireplace and the piano. Hosea stood waiting for them with Miss Grimshaw, an equal look of worry on both their faces.

“Arthur, you leave the women and come talk with me about what happened, John- take Charles and try and find Nora's posse...tell them she's with us.”

“Yes, Hosea.” Marston left the building and Hosea took Arthur upstairs to talk in private, not wanting to disturb Susan and Abigail.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Hosea jumped straight into the questioning as soon as they entered Arthur's room and he had to raise his hands defensively to show that he wasn't the one in the wrong here.

“I found her out on the track like that- she mentioned Colm and that was all she could say.”

“So Colm's going after Nora now, I mean, he and those bastards go after anyone they can get their hands on but she seems… bad.”

Arthur nodded. “If it was a robbery, she'd be dead.”

“Or lucky. Knowing that girl, she's lucky.”

There was a subtle chuckle that escaped from Arthur's lips but he quickly silenced it out of respect. The door to his room swung open and stood there was Molly O'Shea, her hair dishevelled and barely kept like it usually was. She looked worried and Arthur quickly prepared himself for a long speech about how much she loved Dutch and how he began ignoring her again but instead the Irishwoman gazed up at Mr. Morgan, sharing an equal amount of worry as him.

“Will Nora be okay?” Her concern confused him as Molly had never spoken about Nora before and for her to be talking about someone that wasn't Dutch was surprising. Sure, they had chatted briefly but he figured Molly was too much ‘high society’ for the likes of Nora.

“I don't know, why don't you go downstairs and-”

“And deal with Abigail and Susan?” She cut in. “No thank you, they'll look down on me and shoo me away without hearing what I have to ask.”

“I'll go down and check for you, Miss O'Shea.” Hosea, not wanting to be involved, suggested and she nodded in thanks as he disappeared down the stairs. Molly sharply turned back towards Arthur and he felt an unfamiliar sense of dread wash over him.

“She's a sweet girl, Arthur.” Molly said quietly.

“I weren't aware that you thought so fondly of her, Miss O'Shea.” Molly's jaw fell open in offence at his words but she quickly closed it, biting back an angry remark and his thoughtlessness.

“I think highly of most.” Molly gave him a gentle nod before pushing away from the doorway. He listened closely until he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore and decided that now would be as good as time as any to return back downstairs to check over Nora, see how she was doing. He didn't get too far before Susan placed a cold palm flat against the man's chest, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“I just wanted to see how she is doing, Miss Grimshaw.” He said.

“She's fine, but you can't come in here.. none of you men can if I can help it.”

“How bad was she?”

Grimshaw let out a low sigh as she waved Mary-Beth over, silently telling her to tend to Nora while she conversed with the man. “It's similar to how you were.”

“When?”

“When Colm sent his men after you, too.” She finished. Arthur let out a hiss and the memory, even though he didn't like to dwell back on it.

“She'll live right?”

“Always with the question. I don't know if she'll survive, Morgan. Ain't nothing infected but… time will tell. Us folk ain't lucky.”

“Keep her alive, Susan.” He warned, exiting the old house through the back door so he wouldn't have to cut through the same room where Nora rested. Susan's lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head gently before returning to Nora's care.

...

“And Lem?” Arthur knew she would ask about him soon enough. Other than saying she felt significantly better it was practically the first thing she had said; she loved that man.

“What about him?”

Nora slowly pushed herself up, groaning as pain flaredin her sides. She grabbed it gently, thinking the pressure would help ease the ache, but there was only so much a hang could do.

“Do you know where he is? Or how he is?”

“I don't know. As soon as I found you I took you here.”

Nora nodded gently. “I gotta go back, see him.” She tried to stand but barely made it off the floor.

“You’ve gotta rest some more, Nora.” He said kindly but she knew it was more of a command. She pouted slightly but wasn't feeling stubborn enough to argue further, reluctantly agreeing with Arthur who chuckled lowly at her.

“Charles and Marston have been sent out to look for your group. I'm sure Lem will come back with them.”

“He's definitely going too.”

“I'll leave you to get some rest, Miss. Take care.” Nora looked up at Arthur with a gentle smile as she watched him walk out of the room. From beyond the window she noticed how he talked with someone, whispering in their ear and pointing back towards her.

...

“Where is she?”

Molly was surprised to see Lem and she gently pointed over towards the house where Nora rested, knowing it could only be her that drew him to Shady Belle. He nodded curtly and hurried inside the derelict building.

He didn't need to go far. She was right by the fire with her back towards him. Nora didn't notice the door opening, her focus solely on the flickering flames in front of her.

“How are you feeling?” At the sound she jumped. She turned around quickly with wide eyes, surprised and yet happy to finally see him again after so long.

“I'm just happy to see you again, Fike.” She chuckled.

“I'm happy to see you again, too.” He sank down to the floor with her, sitting just a few feet away. “God I was w-worried about you.”

Nora let out a quiet sigh, averting her gaze over towards the wall so he couldn't see her cry. He heard the sobs regardless and shuffled closer, placing a palm on her shoulder. She still didn't look over at him but could feel Lem's gaze burning into her.

“I really should have listened to you, Lem.”

“You had no idea what was g-gonna happen.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “I don't care about that. I'm just happy you're alive.”

“You're too good to me.”

He shrugged. “You saved me.”

She finally looked over and when their eyes met she offered him a kind smile. He leaned forward and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, a gentle peck and it was over no sooner than it started but Nora still flushed a bright red after it, flustered by the kind action. She often found herself unsure of what to say after any show of affection but this time she managed to splutter a small “thank you.”

#rdr2 #red dead 2 #rdo #red dead online #rdr2 fanfic #lem fike #lemuel fike #arthur morgan #lem fike x oc #original female characters #original characters #molly o'shea #hosea matthews #susan grimshaw #mary beth gaskill #abigail marston #I love Lem and Nora sm

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

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GF - How A Star Is Born. ch.VI

A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.V - ch.VII

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

The little sailboat gently glided along the river that would eventually pool into the sea. There, just as the river touched the vast salty body of water, there was a harbor that began the huge troublesome town of Thebes.

“Wow,” Dipper awed as he tied up the boat. “Is that all one town?”

“One town, a million troubles.” Stan quipped as he walked along the dock and his student hurried to catch up. “The Big Olive herself: Thebes. They say if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

“Cool!” Dipper said as they entered the city. Never before had the farmboy seen so many temples and buildings clumped together, so many people in one place, so many speeding carts and horses and stray cats and the occasional mice that kept the cats fat and happy.

“Stick with me, kid,” Stan warned as they stopped with a group of people waiting to cross the street. “This place is dangerous.”

The horse-pulled carts came to a stop and some guy turned a red-hand vase so it showed a green walking man. They began to cross, but one cart sped by them and Stan had to dive on top of Dipper to push them both out of the way in time.

“Watch where you’re doing!”

“HEY I’M WALKING HERE!” Stan screamed back and made a rude gesture and he got up from Dipper, somehow miraculously getting a slight hint of a Latin accent. “See what I mean? Knuckleheads, all of them.”

“Then you should feel right at home.” Dipper sneered playfully, earning him a firm punch on the shoulder as they walked on.

A few minutes into town, after passing a shady conman that Stan saw right-through, a cute lady at a corner asking if anyone was wanting a good time, and a naked guy singing about accepting yourself, loving yourself, while waving around a dead chicken, the two men walked up to a fountain, taking notice of a group of people talking woefully.

“It was horrible.” A whiny troll-looking guy said as he rinsed his cap into the fountain, trying to get the soot off his clothes. “I lost everything in the fire. All of my beautiful vases and stone tablets.”

“Now were the fires before or after the earthquakes?” A big red-haired guy asked.

“They were after the fires.” A red-haired girl a few years older than Dipper answered with. “But before the flood.”

“Not to mention the crime-rate.” A skinny guy with a small mustache added in. “Seems every time I turn around, there’s some new monster running havoc!”

“1220 has got to be the worst year I’ve ever heard of.” The red-haired woman said as she kicked a rock harshly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t we just move to Sparta, Dad?”

The entire time the locals were complaining, Stan was elbowing Dipper encouragingly and gesturing for him to go ahead. Dipper cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me.” When all the eyes were on him, he felt a little nervous, but he went ahead. “It seems to me that what you need is a hero.” He said confidently and puffed his chest out with his hands on his hips.

The crowd did not look impressed. “Yeah,” The big guy snorted. “And who are you?”

“Um, I’m Dipper.” The young man said, trying to keep his confidence up, but was failing. “But I happen to be a hero, and…”

The four laughed at him and Stan narrowed his eyes as the townsfolk had their doubts if this young man could possibly help them.

“Have you ever saved a town before?” The small troll-like man asked.

“Uh… n-no, not yet…”

“Or reversed a natural disaster?” The big guy asked.

“Uh… n-n-no, but…”

“Ugh,” The red-haired woman groaned. “He’s just another chariot chaser.”

“Don’t you knuckleheads get it!” Stan yelled, placing a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “This kid’s the genuine article!”

The little ugly man narrowed his eyes and adjusted his thick glasses to get a good look at the old man. “Hey… isn’t that the fallen god that trained Achelles?”

Stan’s whole face turned red and he began to shake with anger. “Watch it, pal.” He growled like an angry dog.

“Stan…”

“Hey, you’re right, Toby.” The big guy said and laughed harshly. “Oh boy! I needed this! Some amateur hero trained by the worst god of existence!”

Stan let go of Dipper and began cracking his knuckles. “You wanna go, buddy, c’mon…”

“Stan, Stan!” Dipper had to use his god-like strength to hold his teacher back as it looked like he was going to pounce on the big guy who looked like he could rip a tree out from the ground if he wanted to. “He’s not worth it, let’s just go.”

Stan, still growing, allowed Dipper to lead him to a large set of stairs while the four walked away. Soon Stan swatted Dipper’s hands off of him and they sat to try to think.

Dipper, meanwhile, was thinking about what that guy had said. A fallen god? That may very well have only been a cheap insult for the Trainer of Heroes, but Dipper had first-hand experience in the matter. Gods can fall. Was it possible that someone who had practically raised him and trained him to be a hero so he could be a god again knew exactly what it felt like to be someone you’re not?

“Stan, wh-what those guys were saying…”

“Listen, kid,” Stan said tiredly and held his head. “You’re gonna hear some really bad stuff about me in this town, and some of it is true, but I need you to trust that everything I’ve ever done has been so that family sticks together, okay? I’m gonna get you to your twin, okay? I’m gonna help you become a true hero if it’s the last thing I do, okay? All I ask is that you trust me. Please.” And he looked up at the teenager heavily.

Dipper swallowed as he saw a million and one emotions in his eyes. After everything this guy has done for him and planned to do for him, Dipper decided that trusting him was the least he could do, so the younger of the two nodded, but their moment was interrupted by a cry for help.

“Help! Help, please! Help!”

“Pacifica?” Dipper muttered as he saw a lush amount of blonde hair try to make its way through the crowd. “Pacifica!” He stood and hurried to her as her eyes lit up at the sight of him and hurried.

“Wonderboy… Dipper, thank goodness! Outside of town, by the sea, this little boy was playing and there was a horrible rockslide! He’s trapped!”

“Quick, show me where he’s at!”

Pacifica grabbed Dipper’s hand, making his whole face turn red, and she led the way through town back towards the sea, north of the harbor and just below a mountain that led to Thebes’ Temple of the Gods. Stan quickly followed behind them and a few townsfolk decided to keep an eye for entertainment purposes mostly.

On the damp sand there was a rocky wall side from where the tide often comes in and forms a wall, separating the town from the ocean. Dipper could hear a boy’s cries coming from behind a rock and he hurried across the beach, leaving Pacifica, Stan, and the townsfolk on the sidewalk.

“Help! I can’t breathe!” The boy coughed and desperately pleaded, “Somebody call I-X-I-I!”

Dipper stood by the big boulder and said calmly, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out.”

“Hurry, please!”

Dipper looked up at the giant boulder and took in a deep breath. This rock was huge, one of the biggest things he had ever had to lift, but if he could accidentally destroy half of his hometown, he can lift a boulder. Right?

He grabbed on from the bottom and struggled for a moment, but with gritted, deep breaths, and sheer determination (Stan’s calls of encouragement also helped tremendously), Dipper was able to slowly lift the boulder up from the tiny cave in which the white haired boy was trapped behind.

The boy ran out quickly and Dipper asked in a strained voice, “Y-You okay?”

“Yeah… J-Jeepers, mister.” The boy awed. “You’re really strong!”

Dipper smiled and said after he threw the boulder into the ocean, “Just try to be a little more careful, okay?”

“I sure will!” The boy replied as he ran off into the town.

Stan cheered and hollered, only stopping when he was coughing and he bent over a little to cough sharply into his fist. The townsfolk gave a small applause for him, only a little impressed, as the boy climbed up the side of the mountain and went into the mouth of a large cave, where he was met with Bill in his throne, sipping on live worms, and Pacifica, who sat with her legs dangling over the edge.

“Jeepers? Mister?” Pacifica sneered.

“I was going for innocence.” Gideon said as she changed back into his older self and sat next to Pacifica to watch the show.

“You both did good.” Bill said coldly. “I was really moved by your performances. Great opening act.”

Meanwhile, Stan was at Dipper’s side and patted him hardly on the back. “Great job, kid! They even applauded! Sorta, but still!”

Dipper heard something and turned to look out at the dark and dreary sea. Bubbles. “I-I don’t think that’s applause, Stan.”

Stan looked out at the ocean and saw a shadow form under the bubbles, and soon they were shocked to find a big green head emerge from the water with sharp teeth and small eyes, followed by a long neck and a fat body, the monster roaring like a horrible siren.

“St-Stan! What the heck is that!?” Dipper asked his mentor.

“The Gobblewonker!” Stan yelled as he pointed at the monster. He pulled out Dipper’s sword from his scabbard, put it in his hand, and ran back to the screaming crowd for safety.

“Let’s get ready to rumble!” Gideon cheered and Bill snapped his fingers to make a ringing bell appeared.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford and Mabel were sitting on the front steps of their temple, having tea, as the young muse happily chatted and the aged god happily listened, but they were interrupted by Fiddleford’s wind-breaking running as he hurried up to his dearest friends and was short of breath.

“St-St-Stanford! It’s Mason! He’s battlin’ the Gobblewonker on the beach o’Thebes!”

Ford choked on his tea and had to spit it out. “WHAT?!”

Mabel punched the air. “Alright! He can take down that big dummy! I wanna see him do it!” And the young muse got up and started to run out of Olympus.

“Wait!” Ford called as he and his best friend ran after her. “Mabel, wait!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper slowly watched as the Gobblewonker’s neck positioned itself for attack, like an angry snake. This was no different than those garden snakes at the orphanage, right? The monster attempted to strike, but Dipper dodged swiftly on the beach. Again, and another dodge. Again, another dodge.

“That’s it,” Stan coached. “That’s it, kid, dance around, look for an opening.”

The Gobblewonker struck again, digging it’s sharp teeth into the sand, and Dipper was almost hit, but managed to spit out some sand and stand strong, unfortunately realizing a second too late that his sword was no longer in his hand, but lying behind him. Now having to multitask running the opposite direction and dodging a monster, as if this battle wasn’t difficult enough.

To distract it and buy some time, Dipper used his super strength and threw a huge rock at the Gobblewonker, who crushed it in his jaws while Dipper retrieved his weapon. He stood proud and ready to strike, but in one instant the monster engulfed the hero in it’s mouth and held its head up high to swallow Dipper like he was a pill.

Pacifica held her throat and cringed as the Gobblewonker licked his chops, but soon it was wincing, like it was in pain, and a gruesome scene of Dipper cutting the monster’s neck from the inside appeared before the audience and the Gobblewonker’s head and half its neck flew into the ocean, leaving red in the water and on his body.

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY, THAT’S MY BOY!” Stan cheered as the Gobblewonker’s body fell onto the beach with a loud splash and the dizzy hero fell to his knees. Stan was right by Dipper’s side and helped him up, lightly tapping his face. “Good job, kid, good job. C’mon, let’s getcha cleaned up.” And the old man helped his student get on his feet and shake away his dizziness from the acid that had been in the neck.

Up in the cave, Bill was turning red and shaking. Pacifica smiled, ready to see Gideon be burned to a crisp, but the young man was still, miraculously, perfectly calm.

“Gideon, your plan…”

“Bill, Bill buddy, relax.” Gideon rested his hands behind his neck as rain started to trickle down on the mortal world. “It’s only half time.”

The Gobblewonker’s body twitched behind the two men. They both turned and were very disturbed to find it standing up on its own and suddenly three heads emerged from the opened neck, ready to attack the hero again.

“HOLY HERA!” Stan yelled and ran aside to give the hero his chance.

Dipper backed away until his back was against the rocks, smiling. “Ha! You’re trapped in water, huh?”

The three-headed-Gobblewonker must have understood the young man and decided to prove him wrong, because the sea monsters climbed up out of the water and onto the same to better attack the human.

“Oh, jeez.” Dipper groaned before letting instincts take over and he chopped an incoming head off to dodge and get out of being cornered against the rocky wall.

Dipper allowed his adrenaline to take over and soon he was swinging at anything that came towards him. This, of course, was a bad idea and soon Dipper stood with his back to the sea at a thirty-headed-Gobblewonker, bigger and meaner and more powerful than ever before.

“WILL YOU FORGET THE HEAD-SLICING THING?!” Stan yelled from the sidelines.

Dipper swallowed as a clawed-flipper scooped him up and pinned him against the mountain side, all thirty heads getting closer and closer and ready to rip him apart limb from limb.

“C’mon, kid!” Stan cheered. “Use that big head of yours! C’mon!”

Dipper did some quick thinking, looking up at the mountain, and without a second to lose, he pounded his combined fists against the mountain on his left side, causing an avalanche. One by one the heads were crushed and more red stained the rainy beach, leaving only a fisted-up claw in the clear, unnoticed by the audience.

“NO!” Stan screamed and hurried to the rockpile. “C’mon, c’mon kid, stay with me. Stay with me!” The old man fell to his knees and started to move rocks out of the way, trying to find his student. “No, no, no! Please!”

Meanwhile, Gideon and Bill were smiling twisted smiles. “Hm, nice job, kiddo.” Bill said to Gideon. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Told you it would work.” Gideon said calmly.

Pacifica looked down at the old man trying to get the young hero back with sad blue eyes.

“I… I can’t…” Stan panted under his breath. “I can’t lose…” But then he heard something that made him stop digging.

The fist was wiggling, finally noticed. The townsfolk were worried it was the Gobblewonker, still alive, and Stan stood ready to die trying to kill the monster that took his kid away, but everyone who was watching was beyond surprised to find Dipper priding the monster’s dead fingers off of him and standing tiredly with his clothes in rags.

Cheer erupted, everyone deaf to the yells of anger from Bill and the yells of pain from Gideon, or the dark cloud that appeared by the small cave as the three vanished.

The townsfolk yelled and celebrated and ran down to Dipper and Stan, but Stan was the first to congratulate the new hero, holding him in his arms and giving him noogies and yelling to the top of his lungs. “YOU DID IT, KID! YOU WON BY A LANDSLIDE! HAHA!”

And there, up in the dark rainy clouds, Fiddleford danced with Mabel cheerfully for Dipper’s first victory, leaving Ford standing there, mouth open, speechless with pride. “I… I can’t believe it… my boy… he…”

“I told you!” Mabel cheered and punched her uncle on the shoulder. “I was right, you were wrong! Looks like somebody has to sing the Ford Was Wrong Song!”

Ford chuckled and smiled down proudly at his nephew, who was now being carried away by the other humans. To congratulate him, Ford threw down joyous lightning bolts to dance among the jubilant rain.

Dipper caught the lightning striking the ocean and he smiled to himself, daring to believe that his family might be proud of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the Underworld, Gideon was on his hands and knees, weak from pain and whimpering. This was the fifth time he was being punished, and Bill wasn’t done. The young white-haired man looked up at his boss and pleaded. “Bill, I…”

With a snap of the triangle’s fingers, Gideon’s tongue burst into flame and the teenager cried out and clawed at his mouth. Bill glared maliciously as he snapped his fingers again and Gideon’s whole body was suffocated in flames. Again.

Soon a sad pile of burning flesh was at Bill’s feet slowly healing again. “First you couldn’t even turn both twins into mortals. Then the one left mortal you let live. And now he lives and kills off one of my most powerful allies for taking this dimension!” Bill snapped his fingers again, burning Gideon alive again, sentencing him to pain that would kill a mortal.

Halfway through healing again, Gideon whimpered through tears, “I can still kill him. He’s still mortal. He got lucky.”

“You better.” Bill said coldly. “You’ve got one year to kill Pinetree, and every time you fail, I’ll kill you again until either he’s dead or you wish you could stay dead.” And the triangle left his minion alone to cry on the floor and think of how he was going to kill the man destined to defeat Bill.

#GF #gift #fanfiction #gravity falls au #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #bill cipher #gideon gleeful #stan pines #ford pines #mabel pines #Fiddleford McGucket

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splat-dragon · 4 years

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You were the song that I'd always sing ~Passerine, Oh Hellos

Whumptober 2020, #19: Broken Hearts: "Grief" "Mourning Loved Ones"

Uncle Dutch came home that night with Uncle Javier. He went to run up and hug him though he was looking behind him for Uncle Hosea - Uncle Dutch and Uncle Hosea were always together, but the door closed behind them and everyone was closing around him and he was being jostled and Uncle Hosea wasn’t there. He jumped up, tried to yell and be heard, but adults are loud and groups of them are even louder so no one even noticed him.

INSPIRED BY THIS POST BY @snowymarston

@whumptober2020

Jack was so confused.

They’d moved camp again, but he was used to that. Sure, they didn’t usually do it this much, or this often - but he’d had a lot of homes in his life. Some were better than others - he didn’t much like Colter, the snow was fun but Mama hadn’t let him go out and play, and Uncle Charles and Uncle Javier had shuffled him inside when he’d snuck out, and that one camp (he thought they’d called it Cliffock?) had been all rock and ledges and boring, Uncle Dutch and Aunt Grimshaw always chasing him away from anything fun cause “You’ll fall, Jack!” - and he didn’t much like this one.

He’d liked Shady Belle.

It’d been like something out of a story book - a mansion, two stories tall! With a staircase even, and a ‘gazebo’, and a fountain though it didn’t work, a roof and rooms! He’d had his own bedroom (that he shared with Mama and Pa, of course) and he’d gotten to meet Papa Bronte (but don’t tell Pa he still called him that) and made friends, though they weren’t nice folk, were kinda rude, and he’d gotten to try spaghetti and wear fancy clothes!

He had missed Mama and Pa and his Aunts and Uncles though, Uncle Hosea and Uncle Dutch especially. Uncle Dutch didn’t spend as much time with him anymore, didn’t have time to read books with him—

“I’m busy Jackie, go ask your Ma or Pa,”

—but Uncle Hosea always made time for him even when he was busy, would scoop up a stick and play knights, would even be the maiden in the dress if he asked nicely, would sit down and try and teach him to read.

But they’d left Shady Belle, too.

Uncle Kieran (“don’t call him that!”) had come riding in all funny, falling off his horse (and he’d never seen him again) and then it had been like something out of Uncle Hosea’s books, shouting and screaming and loud noises and Pa dragging him inside, and when it was done there’d been hollering and yelling and he’d been scared, but Uncle Hosea had checked on him, and Uncle Dutch had too if only for a moment, and then he’d seen even less of Uncle Hosea.

The night before they left Shady Belle, Uncle Hosea was the one to put him to bed. Read him three chapters of Otis Miller and the Boy from New York, tucked him in and kissed him on the head like he hadn’t since their camp by the lake (he’d liked that one well enough, though they’d kept him away from the water Uncle Bill had taught him how to skip rocks and would sometimes skip rocks with him, and it was where they got Cain so it couldn’t be all bad! Though he hadn't seen Uncle Sean since they’d left that camp, and he really did miss him, even if Uncle Sean confused him at times.)

“Love you Jackie,” Hosea had said, smoothing down his hair, and he’d already been half asleep but he’d said back

“Love you Uncle Hosea,” and the man had smiled, blowing out the candle and leaving him to sleep.

Then the next day Uncle Charles and Ma had come flying in on Taima, and they were moving. He knew better than to get in the way, so he’d sat off to the side as they packed up as quick as they could, shoving necessities in their wagons while Aunt Sadie and Uncle Charles tore out of camp, clasping his hands over his ears to protect them from Aunt Grimshaw’s shrill screaming.

And he hated the new camp - it was filthy, and gross, and the ground squelched beneath his feet in a way that he didn’t like. It had done the same down in Shady Belle and he’d liked it but it hadn’t done it this much, and Aunt Sadie and whoever was outside usually didn’t let him out at all, shoving him back into the cabins before he could get anywhere because “There are gators, Jack” and he could hear them hissing all around but there had been gators near Shady Belle too, hadn’t there?

Ma cried a lot, too. Tried to smile when she saw him but he could tell, and when he asked what was wrong she’d say “I just miss your Pa,” which he didn’t understand because Pa had been away for longer before and she hadn’t cried like this, and he had Uncle Bill and Uncle Javier and Uncle Hosea and Uncle Arthur and Uncle Dutch and Uncle Lenny and Uncle Micah so why was she upset?

Everyone seemed upset though, and he didn’t understand why. They smiled when they saw him or, at least, tried to look less upset - Aunt Sadie never really smiled, but she looked even sadder than usual when she and Uncle Charles rode out one day and didn’t come back until late the next - he’d been left with Uncle Uncle while the rest of his family gathered outside and it wasn’t fair but Uncle Uncle had patted him on the back and said ‘you’ll understand some day, Jackie.’

Jack was nineteen, his father’s blood still on his hands, a pair of graves freshly dug, when he finally understood what Uncle meant.

Uncle Arthur came back, and of course Jack was happy. It was his Uncle! And Uncle Arthur was one of his favorites (but don’t tell the others), but with Uncle Micah, not Pa or Uncle Hosea, Uncle Bill or Uncle Javier or Uncle Dutch or Uncle Lenny and he was confused - where were they? Still, he hugged him, and the man was glad to hug him back though he stank, and then they were pulled away because Aunt Grimshaw was insisting that Uncle Arthur ‘get that filth off your face right now!’ and then the adults were talking and he was being shoved off to the side again - something about Pa and ‘Sisika’ and a ‘chain gang’ but he didn’t really understand.

Then Uncle Bill came home, and everything went crazy. Uncle Arthur shoved him under a table and told him to ‘stay there!’ and he always listened to Uncle Arthur so he did, voices screaming outside, wood exploding everywhere and then Aunt Tilly was grabbing him and pulling him with her behind a crate, and then just as suddenly as it started it was done.

Uncle Lenny, Uncle Hosea and Pa didn’t come home that night, and he didn’t get to talk to Uncle Dutch until very late the next day.

He tried asking Uncle Arthur first, on account of that he’d been with Uncle Hosea last so surely he’d know.

And the man’s face had turned a funny shade of white, and he’d started to make a funny sound in his throat, like he was trying to make words but couldn’t get them out, and his eyes that were already red had gone even redder, had glazed over like that dead opossum’s he’d found the other day, then Aunt Sadie had been shoving him away with an apology to Uncle Arthur.

Even Sadie had jumped when, after they’d entered the cabin, the door barely closed behind them, Uncle Arthur made a sound that was a scream but wasn’t a scream, high-pitched and awful and though he didn’t know why Jack had burst into tears right alongside him, and then there’d been a crash and Aunt Sadie had shoved him towards Aunt Mary-Beth before hurrying back outside.

He tried asking Aunt Mary-Beth, too. Then Aunt Tilly, and Aunt Susan, but all three’s faces had drawn up like they’d eaten something sour, and their eyes had gone funny too, though they didn’t scream, and finally he’d been handed over to Ma and she was already glassy eyed so he didn’t ask her.

As soon as he could (which wasn’t very soon) he went looking for Uncle Dutch.

He found him leaning on the fence, over the swamp with the gators, and it wasn’t fair because if he did that he’d have gotten a spanking but adults had different rules than he did which wasn’t fair, jumping when he called out “Uncle Dutch?” which was kinda funny because he never scared no one.

Uncle Dutch ran his hand down his face, looking very tired, which was strange because Jack had seen him go to sleep right after things went quiet last night, but adults are Strange so he didn’t say nothing, “What is it Jack?”

“Where’s Uncle Hosea?”

and Uncle Dutch’s face did a strange thing then, seeming to fall into itself, lips baring his teeth for just a moment before covering them, falling down as though he’d eaten something awful, those funny wrinkles getting deeper until they weren’t so funny anymore, and he gulped audibly though he didn’t start making those funny sounds that Uncle Arthur had, instead opening his mouth and closing it like a fish. “I…”

He reached up and pressed his fingers into his eyes like he did sometimes when the others were getting on his nerves, and Jack was worried he’d annoyed him - had he heard that he’d been asking about Uncle Hosea? But he just wanted to know, Uncle Hosea had promised they’d read Otis Miller and the Black-Hearted Lady next and he’d had a copy since Clemens’ Point, and Uncle Hosea was never gone this long without telling him!

“Jack…” Uncle Dutch started again, and when he brought his hand away his eyes were glassy, glassier than he’d seen on the others, even on that stinky opossum he’d found, and his breath shook, rattling in a way Jack had never heard before, as he knelt in that way he hated, the way people did right before they talked to him like he was a dumb little kid.

“He’s not…” he swallowed, reached out in that ‘come here’ way adults used and he jumped into the hug, finding Uncle Dutch shaking like a leaf, “Your Uncle Hosea’s not coming home.” and… that didn’t make sense. Uncle Hosea always came home. But… so had Uncle Mac and Uncle Sean, up until they’d all left and never come home again.

“Like Uncle Mac?” he pushed back to look Uncle Dutch in the eye, but Uncle Dutch wouldn’t meet his gaze, blinked rapidly, shook his head,

“Like… like your Uncle Davey, Jackie.”

and he remembered Uncle Davey, remembered them coming flying back with Uncle Davey slumped on the back of Uncle Javier’s horse, remembered sitting there as Mama and Aunt Grimshaw tried to stitch him up, remembered blood everywhere, remembered him going limp as they set him down on the bed in Colter, remembered them burying him.

He couldn’t imagine Uncle Hosea like that. Couldn’t see him being put beneath the ground forever, couldn’t see never seeing him again - couldn’t imagine never being tucked into bed by him, never having him read an Otis Miller book to him, never being called ‘our little prince’ by him again.

“No!” burst out of his chest, surprising even him, and Uncle Dutch flinched, reaching up to grasp his wrists when Jack began to pound on his chest, “I WANT UNCLE HOSEA!” and he’d never been one for tantrums - he’d tried, once, and been laughed at so hard he’d never tried again - but he began to slam his fists into Uncle Dutch’s chest as hard as he could, screaming “NO!” over and over at the top of his lungs.

“I know,” Uncle Dutch’s breath caught, and he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in until all he could do was wrap his fingers in his vest and cling, screams dying into sobs, whimpering “I want Uncle Hosea,” until he was breathless and hiccuping, the older man shuddering and making a strange, choked sound, clutching him close, “I know, son, I know.”

His Ma still cooling in the ground, Edgar Ross not even starting to rot, Jack Marston visited the graves of all his Aunts and Uncles - even his Uncle Dutch, Uncle Javier and Uncle Bill, though they’d wronged his family he remembered them fondly and felt the need to pay them his respects.

He left his Uncle Arthur’s hat hanging on his grave marker - the age of the outlaw was over, and he thought it was time to put it to rest - and when he finally visited his Uncle Hosea’s grave, last of the thirteen, he left a tattered, well-loved copy of Otis Miller and the Boy from New York behind alongside an aged but otherwise pristine copy of Otis Miller and the Black-Hearted Lady.

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flamehairedwritings · 3 years

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty Seven

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Blood and Snow

They crossed the Upper Montana River the same way Ada and Arthur had, Abigail’s words ringing in their ears.

John’s the loudest.

He’d just got her back, and now she was going to leave him again.

But he couldn’t not go. He knew in his heart he couldn’t have ever said no to Sadie and stopping Micah Bell. It bolstered him that Ada and Arthur were going, too. Yet it was only a little; they had just as much to lose as him.

And just as much as he couldn’t say no, they hadn’t been able to either.

One of them should have been yelling at the other, telling them this was a stupid, horrible plan, what the hell were they doing and that they should just turn back, but that not unfounded responsibility had fallen to Abigail.

‘Once again,’ she had said.

But he was just so angry, so fucking angry at Micah for forcing them into this position. To his core Micah was a bad man and they all knew he wouldn’t just leave them be if he got wind of their new, happy lives.

This had to be done.

He glanced over at Arthur and Ada as they passed the burned down Native Residential School, watched as they shared a small, reassuring smile with one another, like they were the only people on the road.

“We’ll be okay,” Arthur murmured, so quietly.

“I know,” Ada answered, the breath she inhaled steeling.

Sadie led their small group, Charles beside her and John, Arthur and Ada behind. They moved quietly, no one really knowing or having anything to say. Their mission hung heavy over their heads, yet it reassured Arthur somewhat that this didn’t feel like the kind of revenge mission he’d feared it would be; blood-thirsty, cold, calculated.

‘Revenge is a fool’s game’, he’d said so, so many times to Dutch during their time together, yet he’d not had much to fight for then.

And here, now, they were a group of tired parents and people, looking to secure a future they had fought so hard for. Revenge wasn’t the word that came to mind when he looked at all of them. Yet who knew how each of them would react when they came face to face with Micah Bell?

He caught the slight squaring of Ada’s shoulders as they turned onto another path and at first he thought it was just the gradual dropping in temperature, but as he heard the noise of a small town, realisation dawned on him.

As they’d packed their bags, he’d told her where Sadie’s route was going to take them through, and she’d just nodded and raised her eyebrows slightly, a faint smile on her lips.

“Well, seems I can’t avoid it any longer.”

Strawberry looked much as it had when he’d last been there, when he’d first met her. Part of him felt he owed so much to this place and to fate for bringing him here, yet it sat in the back of his mind as he glanced at her, keeping his head down, wanting to catch her eye and reassure her again, but her own gaze was darting from cabin to stable as they entered from the south path, the mud beneath them damp.

Ada hadn’t been back to her once home since the night she’d met Arthur. She’d wondered about it, over the years, what it would look like and if it had changed and... it had and it hadn’t. No new buildings had been built, there had never been any space to, but some had definitely been cleaned up, painted and sold to new inhabitants. People bustled about, no more and no less than there had been on the morning walks she used to take. She adjusted the brim of her hat, pulling it down slightly, though she would have been surprised if people had recognised her or even remembered her. They’d read in the papers over the years that Mayor Nicholas Timmins had been re-elected, some claiming through unsavoury means, and that he was still fighting to turn the town into a get-away destination for city folks.

By the looks of things, he hadn’t exactly succeeded. Maybe one or two people had come down from a city, but it wasn’t exactly bustling like he’d always told her he wanted it to be.

I wonder how he is.

She didn’t know what she’d do if she ran into him again, though some bored columnists were currently claiming his health was declining, his failed venture finally starting to take a toll. Maybe he, too, wouldn’t recognise her.

Her gaze landed on the post office as they crossed the bridge over the thundering river, it must have rained recently, and she cleared her throat.

“Can we stop for a moment? I just need to post some letters.”

They all looked to her, and she half expected it to be with an expression of ‘Now? Really?’ but they all, quietly, seemed to understand. Sadie nodded and they remained mounted by the hitching posts as she slid down from the saddle. The air was certainly colder here, she’d almost forgotten how cold Strawberry could get, and she took the opportunity to pull Abigail’s coat on. Abigail was slighter than she was but it just about fit, and she withdrew the three letters from her saddlebag.

Catching Arthur’s eye, they smiled faintly at one another again and she licked her lips as she moved to the stairs.

The post office hadn’t changed one bit. A man she didn’t recognise was behind the counter but everything was just as she remembered, and the familiarity somehow made this heart-breaking act a little less terrifying.

“Hello, ma’am, how may I help you?” the man smiled, leaning against the counter.

At some point in the last few years, she’d gone from ‘miss’ to ‘ma’am’,

“Good morning, I’d like to send these letters, please.” Her heart was beating a little faster as she lay them on the worn, wooden counter. Yet she just told herself what she’d told Arthur; if they lived, their daughter, her brother and his wife would never have to read these, and if they didn’t, she liked to think they would bring some comfort.

She told herself that over and over again as the man marked each envelope. She suddenly could hear her own breathing in her ears, the man’s voice far away as he talked about the weather, and her eyes were now fixed on the envelopes. They were an off-white, the same colour as the pages she’d written on, the only ones she could find in Jack’s room. She’d meant to tell him that she’d taken them, that she would pay for new ones, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to. That would have just led to why she’d taken them and she hadn’t wanted to speak it out loud to anyone but Arthur.

She wished she could have said the gravity of the situation had descended upon her as she’d written them, or now as she was sending them, but... the moment Sadie had said the words it had all come crashing down. She hadn’t cried, and she didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

It had been a long time since she had been numb, and she used to hate it, but now it brought with it a certain element of protection.

As she paid him, she cleared her throat, a certain lightness within her now.

One of the thoughts that had come to her as she’d watched Millie sleep the first night after her birth was that she’d kill for her, and here she was, fulfilling her promise.

“Anythin’ else I can help you with, ma’am?”

She smiled, shaking her head as she tucked her coin purse back into her pocket. “No, thank you.”

“All right, have a nice day, ma’am!”

Her smile lingering, she turned away from him, feeling quite relieved. Now, she could focus, and—

The door swung open, a small bell tinkling with it.

“Good morning, Hershel!” Nicholas Timmins boomed, a great beam on his features.

“Good morning, sir!”

Mayor Timmins’s beam remained fixed in place as his gaze went to the woman stood in the centre of the post office, a warm greeting ready for her, when he paused.

Ada held his gaze as he looked at her, that great smile not moving. She felt nothing, no fear, no anticipation, no unease.

Her uncle was silent for only two seconds.

“Good morning, ma’am! Have a lovely day!” Inclining his head, he then strode past her to the counter.

As he struck up a conversation with Hershel, Ada moved to the door, the tinkling bell signalling her exit.

Stepping out onto the porch, she inhaled the cold, fresh air. She didn’t have time to dwell on what had just happened, though, as Sadie, Charles and John were nowhere to be seen. Arthur, having dismounted and now also wearing the coat John had given him, was leaning against the railing of the stairs, looking up the path towards the hotel. At the sound of the bell, he looked to her and raised his eyebrows, a corner of his mouth lifting.

“So...” he began as she moved down the stairs, his arms folded, “... Saw your uncle go in.”

"And you didn’t think to yell?”

“Nah, thought he might like a little surprise.”

She snorted faintly as she stepped down onto the mud, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t think it was. He looked right through me. Think he thought he recognised me from somewhere but couldn’t place where.”

“Suppose it’s for the best,” he answered, his arms dropping.

They both knew she wasn’t fazed, in fact she was rather relieved. The only mention of her disappearance from this town had been in the newspaper Arthur had shown her all those years ago at Shady Belle. There hadn’t been a peep since she’d seen him at the party. Glancing at the horses with empty saddles, she raised her eyebrows.

“Where are they?”

“Gone after one of Sadie’s leads, that’s why we’re here. One of Micah’s boys is wanted for murderin’ a woman and he’s been seen drinkin’ here. She says he’ll confirm if Micah’s really at Mount Hagen and what the hide-out looks like.”

Ada followed beside him as they moved up the path, a slight incline to it, frowning. “Wait, so, Micah might not even be there?”

“Nah, she said his camp’s definitely there, just wants to confirm he ain’t off on some kind of raid. It’s quite a spot he’s got, apparently, remote and harsh. Bounty hunters ain’t exactly fond of traipsing through snow and the cold to get to ‘im and, well, he’s literally got the high ground.”

“You’re filling me with such confidence.”

He snorted, hands on his belt. “We’ve been through worse.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. She was just about to say so when a commotion and raised voices drew their attention to the saloon up ahead. The doors had burst open and a man was racing across the mud towards a set of stairs that led up to a couple of wooden buildings, and John was chasing after him, yelling.

“C’mon, Cleet, you can’t get away!”

“Cleet?” Ada gasped, recalling the, as Arthur had once described him, rat-faced man who had been with Micah in those fateful last days.

“C’mon, I’ll go with John, you head ‘im off,” Arthur hissed before running after them.

She ran up the path, hearing the men shout, John’s coming loudest over them with, “Stop that man! He’s wanted for murder!”

They sounded like they were rounding the general store so she ran for the hotel, hoping to cut Cleet off there. He was fast, though, sprinting past her, her finger tips brushing against his coat as she reached out for him. She heard John and Arthur behind her as they followed him up towards the east path, and then, suddenly in her peripheral vision, Sadie was there, and Ada felt herself instantly slowing, pre-empting what was to come.

Sadie barrelled into the man, knocking him into the mud and drawing a loud grunt from him. Charles came down the path the wily man had been heading, while John, Ada and Arthur panted lightly, clearing their throats.

Lord, when was the last time they’d had to run after anyone faster than their children?

Sadie was standing over Cleet, and barely let him catch his breath before she was driving her fist into his muddied face.

“Hello, Cleet, remember us?”

He was too busy groaning to respond. She straightened as they approached, glancing up at them.

“Who wants to take a turn?”

That made him find his voice.

“Hey, hey, hey, we’re all buddies, ain’t we?” he laughed desperately, holding a hand up to shield himself.

Arthur snorted at the man while John stepped forward, his gloved fingers curling into fists. “Sure, Sadie. With pleasure...”

Cleet’s eyes were on his fists, but it was John’s boot that struck out, hitting him in the chin and sending him backwards. Before he could even lift his head, John was grabbing him by the front of his coat, hauling half his body up off the ground.

“Where’s Micah, huh, Cleet? He up in the Grizzlies?”

Charles and Sadie stood to the side as John punched him, making eye contact with anyone who stopped to stare until they quickly averted their gaze and hurried away. Arthur and Ada stood side by side, quiet, watching as John dropped him back down.

“Micah? I ain’t seen him— Wait, wait!”

John was already punching him again, hissing out through gritted teeth, “Where is he?!”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop...” Cleet pleaded, holding his hand out again as blood poured from his mouth. “I don’t know... I ain’t seen him, we fell out.”

“We know he’s there, Cleet, you just gotta tell us!”

“I don’t know!”

Before John could strike him again, Sadie tutted, side-eyeing him. “You know what, I’m bored of this. Let’s hang the bastard.”

Ada’s eyes darted to her as she paused.

John nodded, reaching out for him. “Good idea.”

Gripping him by the back of the collar, he started to drag Cleet through the mud, following Sadie towards the gallows.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! Hang on a minute! Damn you!” Cleet was now shouting, trying to grab at John’s arm.

Charles, Ada and Arthur went, too, silent, but not with unease.

The Strawberry gallows hadn’t changed either. A high platform with two sets of stairs leading up to it, it was rather awkwardly situated near the jail and one of the paths that led in and out of the town. Not that many people gathered for hangings, at least not when Ada had lived here, but it seemed as if it had been erected here just because there was space. Three wooden beams were lashed together, and a noose hung from it.

“I told you, I don’t know!”

“C’mon, John, up here,” Sadie called over Cleet’s yelling as she climbed the stairs, sounding bored.

Half lifting him, John threw him onto the stairs and withdrew his gun, aiming it at him. “Move!”

Cleet did as he was told, scrambling backwards up them as he continued to plead, “Now, hold on! Hang on! Just wait a minute!”

He was so focused on John and his gun that he started in surprise when, as he reached the top of the stairs, Sadie grabbed him, pulled him up and shoved him towards the centre of the platform. Ada, Arthur and Charles hadn’t followed them up, instead having opted to stand in front of the gallows, watching them.

“Here. I want you stood right here,” Sadie ordered him, her gun now drawn and aimed at him. Her other hand had him gripped tight as she positioned him before the noose, the gun now aimed at his head. “All right, now string the no good, murderin’ bastard up.”

As John grabbed the noose and yanked it down, securing it around Cleet’s neck as he spluttered his pleas, Charles murmured to them, “You okay with this?”

“I’m not not okay with it,” Arthur mumbled with a faint shrug, and Ada found she was rather indifferent, too; Cleet was a murderer, a wanted man who was probably going to be hanged anyway.

A few townspeople had gathered to watch now, and John just moved to the lever that would open the floor beneath Cleet, his hand gripping it.

“Is Micah there, Cleet?”

Cleet had his hands raised, stumbling over his words. “N-Now hang on! Just w-wait—”

“Is he there?”

“I already told you, I ain’t seen ‘im!”

“You lie!” Sadie barked.

“It ain’t my fault!” he yelled, “He tried to kill me!”

“Where’s Micah!” John shouted, his hand moving the lever an inch.

Cleet’s eyes widened and he started, staring at John. “No, no, no, no! Wait, please!”

“Talk, or I’ll pull this lever!”

He moved it an inch more and Cleet cried out, stiff, “W-Wait, wait, wait! H-He is up in the mountains!”

John released the lever and they paused, allowing him to take a breath.

“He... H-He is up at Mount Hagen. He got a whole gang now... Bad men, doin’ bad things... I-I tried to stop him from m-murderin’ that little girl...”

Ada’s stomach turned, and she swallowed hard.

“... We f-fell out, honest... I’m...” He managed a weak smile. “... I’m one of the good guys.”

“Hang ‘im.”

They all looked to Arthur, his mouth set in a thin line, and Cleet became frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no! Wait, don’t! John, don’t!”

John didn’t even hesitate. Gripping the lever, he pulled it. The floor opened beneath Cleet and he dropped. They all heard his neck snap.

Mumblings went though the small crowd that had gathered, and then they started to shuffle off. The Sheriff, a man Ada didn’t recognise, just turned from where he’d been standing in the doorway of the jail, watching, and headed back inside.

“Tried to stop ‘im, did he,” Arthur muttered, watching the body. “Could’ve shot the bastard.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Sadie said, nonplussed, vaulting over the railing around the platform down onto the mud.

“We’re just leaving him there?” Charles said, even as he followed after her along with them.

“Let the birds eat ‘im.”

They mounted up and passed by the swinging corpse of Cleet as they made their way out of the town. Ada felt no nostalgia for the place, no affection or loss at leaving again. She didn’t think she would ever return.

“It’s a long ride,” Charles murmured as they urged their horses into canters. “Let’s finish this.”

They rode hard, all of them wanting this over and done. As Charles said, though, it was a long ride.

When the sky darkened and the air grew colder and colder, it was he who called that they should stop for the night. They’d taken a few minutes rest here and there throughout the day but they all knew they and the horses were exhausted, and they certainly didn’t want to encounter Micah and his men like this.

They stopped at a grassy, lightly snow covered hill, a forest at their backs, and let their horses graze as they unfurled their bedrolls. Charles built and lit a fire and they ate what they’d packed as they sat huddled around it. It was bitterly cold, and would only get colder. They were near the mountains now, perhaps ten or twenty miles away from the path they would take up into them, and Ada gazed at their peaks as she ate quietly.

Micah was somewhere within them.

She’d thought about him as they travelled, what he might look like now and how he might have changed. He’d be meaner, angrier, that was for sure, but she didn’t feel afraid.

Her gaze shifted to their group, watching them all. John and Arthur were sat together talking quietly, about what she couldn’t hear, Charles was sat on a rock a little way a way, keeping guard, and Sadie was sat beside her, as silent as she was.

Licking her lips, Ada cleared her throat. “Sadie?”

“Hm?” The blonde woman looked to her, raising her eyebrows slightly.

She just came out and asked it. “Why doesn’t Abigail like you anymore?”

Sadie snorted, her eyes returning to the fire as her eyebrows rose a little higher. “And here I was thinkin’ she was doin’ such a great job at hidin’ it.” Shifting her stretched out legs, she shrugged her shoulders slightly. “John’s been joinin’ me on some bounty huntin’ duties to make some money. Abigail hasn’t liked that.”

Oh.

“And so with this...”

Sadie shrugged again, a faint, wan smile on her lips. “She’s gonna hate me even more.”

Ada returned her smile, exhaling a breath. “Well, she hates me now, too. Hates us all, so...”

Her friend watched her, her head tilted slightly. “Yet you don’t blame her.”

She shook her head, the barely-there smile lingering. “No.”

“Hm. Neither do I.”

They returned to their silence, neither really wanting to talk. A short while later, John took over from Charles and Ada said a quiet goodnight to Sadie, who needed her rest as she would be taking over after John, before she joined Arthur.

Sat on his bedroll, he lifted an arm as she approached and she sat on her own bedroll beside him, leaning against him and his arm went around her.

“You okay, darlin’?” he murmured after a few moments, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she answered just as quietly. “Just want this done.”

“Me, too.”

Rubbing her arm gently, he held her until she started to finally doze off, her breathing softening. Carefully laying her down with him, he continued to hold her, gazing up at the pitch-black sky littered with shining stars.

His heart had been aching since the moment they’d set off that morning. He loved his wife and daughter more than he could ever possibly say, and two days ago he would never have done anything that would have put their happiness in jeopardy... but the existence of Micah Bell did just that.

If he was the one to put the bullet in the man’s skull he wouldn’t feel joy but relief. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t feel joy; he didn’t want to be that kind of man, never had. He kept his eyes on the sky, listening to their friends quietly settle down for the night, the same thoughts probably on their minds, the same fears.

He knew it would be useless to say they could still turn back now; they all knew they couldn’t.

—

They awoke just before dawn, having all just snatched a couple of hours sleep here and there.

John stamped the fire out after they’d eaten what little they could manage, no one particularly hungry. They mounted up without much talk or ceremony, and followed Sadie onto the path towards the mountains. It was a cold, misty day, the sky slowly turning from black to grey. They didn’t meet anybody as they travelled; who would be foolish enough to be out this early and when it was this freezing?

Ada knew they were near when Charles kicked his horse into a canter as they made their way up an hill, snowflakes starting to lightly fall.

“We all ready?” he called to them, overtaking Sadie. “This pass will take us up onto the high mountains. There’s an old watchtower up there, over the ridge. They might be using it for a camp.”

“Lead the way!” Sadie answered.

This was it.

Squaring her shoulders, Ada gripped the reins tightly as they climbed. Huge rocks lay to their left and right, and the tall trees had thinned out now, patchy grass turning to snow and rock. They went higher and higher, small stones sliding down the path behind them. Wind whistled around the rocks, mingling with the far cries of a few birds, but other than that there were no other sounds... or were they just masking them?

Her gaze shifted from the back of Charles’s head to the rocks above, half-expecting men to jump out from all over and attack. She hoped Micah was stupid enough to not station a look-out here.

But Micah Bell, while many things, was not stupid.

A gunshot sounded and a split-second later Charles cried out, his teeth sounding gritted. Ada’s heart twisted as Sadie and John leapt off their horses, the animals shifting, startled, unable to see Charles.

“There must be a sniper! Get to cover, quick!” Sadie yelled as Ada and Arthur slid from their own saddles, pulling their guns from them as they ducked down.

“Shit...” Arthur hissed as he scanned the rocks above now, Ada shooing their horses back down the path.

“You alive, Charles?” John called as they ran up the hill.

Charles, off his horse somehow, either from the impact of the shot or voluntarily, was lying on the ground, gripping at his arm.

“Just about,” he hissed out through gritted teeth as Arthur and John quickly grabbed him under the arms and hauled him behind a boulder as Sadie and Ada took to their own cover.

“Where is this bastard?” Sadie muttered, crouched behind a rock a few feet away from her.

Ada adjusted the grip on her Repeater, peering out as carefully as she could. A bullet bounced off a rock somewhere close by and they all ducked down as another one came.

“Stay low!” Sadie yelled, even as she rose up slightly and darted to the next rock up. Ada did the same as the blonde woman continued, “We gotta get close to ‘im! Short runs so he don’t get us!”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur and John moving up, too, all of them taking the short opportunity when the sniper wasn’t firing. His bullets came close but the rocks were large enough to give them plenty of cover.

It almost startled her when the man’s voice rang down the pass.

“I got the high ground up here! I got a box of bullets, a canteen and some jerky, you can try by all means but you ain’t gettin’ up this pass! Just ask your friend back there!”

John was surging ahead, faster than any of them, and her heart was in her mouth every time he moved.

Even the sniper noticed his speed. “You’re persistent all right! Guess you ain’t here by no accident!”

Ada ceased moving from rock to rock and instead aimed at where the man seemed to be, firing to try and keep her friends safe. That silenced him but he fired back, and she was certainly happy to keep him occupied because John was getting closer and closer...

“Take the shot!” Sadie suddenly yelled, and Ada looked just in time to see John rise and fire.

“You shot my friend, you son of a bitch!”

The man cried out, the bullet finding its mark.

“You got him!” Sadie cried, and Ada exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Let’s get back to Charles!”

They slid slightly down the rocky path as they ran, Arthur ahead of them. Chares was still propped against the boulder when they got to him, breathing hard and gripping at where his chest met his right shoulder.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, crouching beside him and placing a hand on his good shoulder.

Sadie kept glancing up from him to the ridge as they looked at him, their hearts sinking.

“I will be...” he groaned, and that soothed them somewhat because he wasn’t one to lie. “... but go on, go now!”

They still paused, however, and he knew what they were thinking.

“I’ll be fine. Move fast, or they’ll come down that hill and kill us all.”

They knew he was right but...

“I don’t wanna leave him,” John murmured, glancing up at Arthur who was rubbing his fingers against his brow.

"He’s righ’, though,” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “If we push on, we can hold ‘em back, get to ‘em before they get to us.”

Charles was nodding, his breaths deepening. “They know we’re comin’ now... I will be fine... I’ll follow you up, I just... I just can’t move fast.”

Even though she knew he wouldn’t, no matter what, Ada murmured to him as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around his neck, “Get on your horse and get down the pass if you can’t, okay?”

He nodded, though she knew it was just to appease her. “Now, go!”

Gripping their weapons, they reluctantly left him there as they started to stride up the hill, John hissing out curses.

“They will know we’re comin’ now,” Arthur murmured, wetting his lips. “They won’t know our number, though, and hopefully we can still take ‘em somewhat by surprise.”

“I should hope so,” Sadie muttered. “They still got the high ground, though, so we better move.”

They quickened their pace, running up the hill, though the thick snow on the ground didn’t make it easy nor did the steepness of the incline. Ada kept her eyes up, waiting, again, for an attack at any moment. She was the one to spot him first.

“Here they come!”

A man was running down the snowy ridge towards them, standing out starkly against the white of it in his dark clothes. She raised her Repeater and fired first, killing him.

“There’s another one!” Arthur called and Sadie shot the man who came behind him as they finally reached the top of the hill, the ground evening out.

A few trees and rocks littered the wide pathway before them but they couldn’t stop for long; they had to push on.

“Up on the cliff!” Sadie yelled, and John shot a man readying to shoot at them.

There were more men now, some up on the cliffs, some hiding behind the rocks on the path ahead of them, and the four of them aimed and fired as they moved up, ducking behind rocks only for a few seconds before darting ahead for another.

A man screamed as he tumbled over the cliff but they just ran on, not wanting to lose any kind of advantage by a second. They were running up another incline now, the snow even thicker.

“More of ‘em!” At Arthur’s call they aimed at the three men who were trying to run for cover, two others hiding amongst the trees. They died in seconds.

“There’s a camp here!” John said as they climbed a hill with gritted teeth, each breath taking cold air into their lungs.

“Can’t be the main one,” Sadie answered as their eyes travelled the four tents and the still burning fire. “It’s not big enough, Micah rides with twenty guys, maybe more. Keep climbin’ ‘till we find that tower Charles talked about!”

The hill was steepening. They hissed out breaths and grunted as they pushed on and reloaded, the snow nearly up to their knees, and Sadie muttered out a curse.

“Air’s gettin’ thin. Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

They reached the top, the land now mercifully flat, but they barely had a chance to catch their breath as two men, waiting, fired at them from the path ahead. Arthur and Ada killed them, the two of them stood side by side.

Running across the path, they came to another incline, this one shorter but steeper. Arthur placed a hand on Ada’s back, helping her up as Sadie, already at the top, yelled, “Micah Bell, we’re here for ya!”

“I didn’t sign up for this much leg-work,” Arthur muttered and a sudden laugh escaped Ada; it was a beautiful, beautiful moment of release.

Yet it was just a moment.

Bullets buried into the snow around them and they had to be firing again, two men several feet apart aiming at them, though it was just Ada, John and Arthur who fired back and killed them. Sadie was charging ahead, a newfound energy from somewhere in her.

“Sadie!” John called after her as they tried to catch up, yet another incline slowing them. “Be careful!”

“I can handle it! C’mon! Keep pushin’ up!”

She was metres ahead, reaching the top and heading around the corner of a huge rock jutting out of the snow. Ada’s legs were burning but she just kept her eyes on her friend. She was so far ahead of them, why wasn’t she just waiting for—

“C’mere!”

A man leapt from the rock and tackled Sadie, driving her into the snow. Ada’s breath caught sharply in her throat as she gasped, trying to run faster.

“Sadie!”

“Get your hands off her!” John thundered as the man wrestled with her, raising his gun, but he barely had time to take aim when another man leapt off the rock, colliding with him.

They collapsed to the floor, John grunting as the man punched him and he instantly punched back. Arthur was ahead of Ada now, striking the man across the head with his boot, fury across his features. Ada ran past them but heard the gunshot that killed the man, her eyes still fixed on her friend.

Sadie and the man were on their feet now, twisting and turning as they continued to wrestle and Ada couldn’t find a safe shot, they were moving too much, if she could just—

She saw the glint of it in the man’s hand.

Ada cried out as he thrust the knife into Sadie’s side and she heard her friend gasp. A gun went off, a hole tearing through the man’s stomach as Sadie stumbled back. Her breathing ragged, Ada lunged forward, finally reaching her, and swiftly wrapped an arm around her, keeping her upright.

“You’re all right, you’re okay, you’re okay...” she murmured, hating with every fibre of her being the strange, strangled sounds Sadie was making.

A lump was forming in her throat as she heard John hiss, “God damn...” behind her, tears starting to prick at her eyes.

Sadie clenched her jaw as she gripped the knife and pulled it out, tossing it to the floor with a gasped breath.

“Hey, hey, you all righ’?” Arthur asked with a concerned frown, at her other side now and gripping her arm. “Charles got ‘im, it’s okay.”

Ada’s head whipped to the side, finding Charles trying to catch his breath as he knelt on the ground, his gun in his hand. Looking back to Sadie, she swallowed hard as the woman nodded.

“Just fine...”

“You don’t look too fine,” John said, and Sadie was vehemently shaking her head even as Ada felt her legs weaken slightly.

“C’mon, we gotta keep goin’...”

“You’re bleedin’ pretty bad, Sadie,” Arthur pointed out gently, and Sadie hissed out a breath.

“I’m fine—”

“No, you’re not,” Ada cut her off, swallowing again as she looked at the blood staining Sadie’s coat. “Arthur, let’s sit her down...”

They helped her over to a boulder, making her sit down, and it had obviously pained Sadie as she released a long breath she must have been holding.

“Ain’t nothin’—”

“You’re dyin’,” John said, and the words cut through Ada like shards of glass.

“I ain’t dyin’, I ain’t,” Sadie hissed, and Ada so wanted to believe her.

“Give me your scarf, Arthur.”

He swiftly removed it and handed it to his wife without a word, watching as she crouched and pushed it against Sadie’s wound before grabbing the woman’s hand, making her press down on it. The blonde woman winced and Ada met her gaze.

“Keep doing this until we come back, okay?”

“I’m comin’ with you, I just need to—”

“No, you’re staying here with Charles.”

It was a moment or two before Sadie nodded, her teeth gritted. “Go get ‘im, I’ll be fine, just need to rest.”

Ada gazed at her, her pale cheeks and weary eyes, and then she made a decision.

“There can’t be many more men, right?”

Sadie shook her head, taking a breath. “He’ll’ve sent ‘em all out while he hid. There can’t be many of ‘em left.”

Wetting her lips, Ada looked up at Arthur and John. “I’ll stay here with these two. I’ll try and get this bleeding to stop and deal with any of his men that might run.”

“You sure?” Arthur asked, holding her gaze.

She nodded, managing a light smile. “Yeah. Now go, go and finish this.”

He lay a hand on her shoulder and squeezed hard, her own hand going over his for the briefest of moments, and then it was gone. She watched her husband turn away and start running along the path with his greatest friend until they were out of sight.

Arthur reloaded his guns as he and John ran without saying a word. He wished he’d had the time to hold his wife and kiss her and tell her he loved her but they had no time. Even before they reached the end of the path, three men gripping guns were walking towards them, and he was all too aware of how close they were to his friends.

He and John slowed, eyeing the men warily because they weren’t firing at them. Yet.

The man in the middle, a tall, barrel-chested man, smiled.

“Well, well, well... ain’t you a persistent pair. This is your last chance to turn around and head on home, boys.”

“Nah, we got somethin’ to do here,” Arthur drawled, shifting his stance. “Sure you don’t wanna head on home?”

The man laughed, truly delighted at the challenge.

“Sounds like there was more of ya... Just you two now is it?”

“Yeah,” John said before Arthur could answer. “Just us.”

The man nodded. “Well, then, boys, it was nice to meet ya.”

Guns clicked as they were raised, but it was John and Arthur who were faster. The sounds of their bullets echoed across the ridge, mingling with the cries of the men. The one they’d spoken to had wide eyes, incredulous that they had been beaten.

Lowering their guns as the bodies dropped, John and Arthur continued on, the younger man wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We gotta be close if he’s sendin’ someone out to try and reason with us.”

“I think he wanted 'em to kill us, not reason.”

Arthur hadn’t exactly been keeping track but Sadie had to be right, there had to be only a few of them left now, yet he couldn’t imagine Micah giving up or being afraid; he was too arrogant, too wily. He also had a feeling that if Micah knew who was about to storm into his camp, then he wouldn’t have sent all his men out to die in the snow.

Their route took them down now, finally, giving them the high ground and the advantage as they ran down, shooting at the men they could now finally see. There were only three, and they were surprised and alarmed, having expected their own men to have succeeded.

“You’re ridin’ with a turncoat!” John yelled tauntingly as two more men appeared on a cliff, he and Arthur killing them instantly. “You’re fools or worse!”

They were nearing a narrow pass between two cliffs, a man stood guarding at it while another was high on the cliff above. As John fired at the man on the cliff, Arthur killed the man at the pass, and then heard snow crunch behind him. For a second he thought it might be Ada following them down, but just before he could turn someone crashed into him, a man practically growling.

“You’re dead men!” he was shouting, and Arthur gritted his teeth as he shoved his elbow back, driving it into the man’s side. He hadn’t been strong enough to knock him to the ground but he had a wild energy, his eyes wide as he went at him with his fists.

Darting backwards, Arthur then struck him with the butt of his revolver before driving him back now, striking him again before shooting him.

“C’mon, Arthur!” John called and Arthur turned away, running through the narrow pass with him.

A man was waiting for them at the end but he was dealt with swiftly. Another came darting over a rock and he was flung backwards sharply by John’s bullet.

“This way!” Arthur shouted and John followed him up a hill, their breaths harsh.

They were more skilled shots than the men they had currently faced but they were having to do more running, and their lungs were starting to burn.

But Arthur knew they were moments away from the camp when four men surged over the hill towards them, firing repeatedly. Shoving John behind a rock, he crouched with him, flinching a couple of times as bullets battered against it, making pieces break off. They ducked out when they could, firing back at the men who had slowed slightly but were still advancing towards them.

Micah’s men were getting desperate, though, and desperation made way for mistakes. The mountain widened out up here and there were no more rocks beyond theirs to hide behind. The men, realising this in the same moment they realised they needed to reload, charged forward, hoping to take the two men by surprise. Instead, they handed themselves to Arthur and John.

They died only a few feet away, their blood seeping into the snow. Rising, John and Arthur darted up the hill and were finally greeted by the sight of groups of tents, firepits and two crumbling shacks. They didn’t have a chance to take it all in, though, as a few men hid amongst the crates and cloth tents, shooting at them the moment they saw them. Grabbing Arthur’s arm, John pulled him behind a stack of wooden boxes, and they returned the fire.

“How many of ‘em are there?” Arthur asked as loudly as he could over the noise. leaning back against the boxes as he reloaded.

John ducked down as he exhaled a breath, rolling his shoulders. “Three, I think. Could be more, though, hidin’.”

Peering around the boxes, Arthur’s gaze landed on something that made a corner of his mouth lift. “Well, let’s flush ‘em out.”

Raising his revolver, he aimed at a crate of dynamite and pulled the trigger. The explosion made the ground shake and flung wood and debris across the snow. Ducking down, Arthur and John covered their heads as it rained down, the sounds of men crying out accompanying it, along with, “You bastards!”

The two men, using the settling snow and dust as cover, darted towards the tents, shooting the men they came across. They died quickly, disorientated from the blast. Heading on, they moved down a hill, another cluster of tents to their left but no sign of anyone so they continued on down, the hill declining steeply. The sudden silence uneased them so they slowed their pace a little, but it didn’t stop John from calling out.

“Micah! Get out here!”

They came to a single tent on a small space of flat land with a fire still burning outside it, and Arthur saw the flash of movement first. He shot the man as they continued walking. As they came to yet another steep decline, they saw it.

The watchtower was smaller than Arthur had expected, with a wide roof on it and a closed door, and there were two more crumbling shacks outside it, a firepit, stacked boxes, and planks of wood and a wagon strewn about, but there was no one to be seen.

Their boots slid in the knee-deep snow as they made their way down, eyes darting from the tower to the shacks. It was quiet still, not even the wind whistling or howling. It was a long stretch of snow, and Arthur was suddenly aware of how cold and numb his face felt while his body was so warm under the thick coat from all the running and climbing. Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, he exhaled a long breath, though it did nothing to relieve the tension in his shoulders.

“Micah, if you’re here, come out!” John called out again as he and Arthur approached, on flat ground now.

They paused near a wide, open box on a wooden platform, scanning the camp, just waiting for the sound of a gun.

There was silence. Licking his lips, Arthur raised his eyes to the look-out of the watchtower as John called again, “Micah Bell! Get out here, you coward!”

The creaking of the wooden door a few moments later had their eyes snapping to it, their fingers tightening around their guns.

“Hello, Scarface,” Micah Bell drawled as he stepped out, the door swinging shut behind him. “And...”

He trailed off, his gaze having slid to Arthur. Both men, having believed the other dead, stared at each other.

Micah had aged, his face now somewhat gaunt, beard and moustache thinner, the blonde lighter, and his hair, under a white hat, was shorter. He had a thick brown coat on that was tied tightly around his wait by a belt that also held the two things he loved most in the world: his guns.

A smile suddenly broke across his features, and he shook his head.

“Cowpoke.” The old nickname was said slow and pointed, his eyes shining with glee. “Well, what a damn surprise. Must be for you, too.” Holding his arms out, he tilted his head. “Did you miss me?”

It was John who answered, Arthur silent as he didn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Not much.”

Micah’s gaze slid from one man to the other. “Been a few years.”

John, watching him watching them, went to move around the fire pit in front of them, wanting to spread him and Arthur out, but Micah suddenly darted closer to the same side as him, chuckling lowly, his smile lingering.

“How’s that, uh... Mmm...” He raised his hand slightly, as if trying to pluck the name he knew out of the air. “... That whore of yours?”

John didn’t take the bait. “She’s good. Didn’t reckon I should waste my time killin’ you, but I felt different.”

“So it seems.” Micah looked to Arthur, raising his eyebrows slightly. “What about you, cowpoke... That uptight bitch still keepin’ you warm?”

John glanced briefly at Arthur, not wanting to take his eyes off Micah for long, and found he hadn’t moved an inch, his features expressionless. He thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then Arthur nodded a few times.

“Yeah, matter of fact she is. And she did reckon I should kill you.”

Micah’s smile grew a couple of inches wider. Raising his arms, he tilted his head. “Well, maybe after all this is over, I’ll go pay ‘em both a call, hm?” He turned his gaze to John. “And the boy.”

His tone made Arthur’s skin prickle, but he stayed still. John shrugged. They both knew what was about to happen.

“Whatever you say.”

The moment the words had left John’s mouth, Micah was drawing his guns and firing at them. They dove for cover as he swiftly moved backwards towards the shack behind him. John ducked behind two crates as Arthur crouched by the wide box on the platform, glancing at one another.

“I got more men comin’, boys!” Micah called, ceasing his fire as he took his own cover.

He fired in their general direction before it went quiet again, and Arthur peered out. As Micah appeared to fire, Arthur found he was by the side of the watchtower, using that rather than the shack.

“I look forward to meetin’ em!” John answered, shifting his position so he could rise up a little and fire at Micah.

He picked the wrong moment.

He hissed out a breath as Micah’s bullet grazed his forearm, swiftly dropping down again.

“You okay?” Arthur watched him mutter a curse as he inspected his arm, blood soaking through his jacket.

“‘m fine. Flesh wound.”

“All righ’, if we—”

“Run while you can, boys! It’s your only hope!”

Meeting John’s gaze, Arthur shifted closer to the edge of the box, keeping his voice low.

“He ain’t got more men comin’, we both know that. It’s just us against him here. If you cover me, I can get to the tower and take him from the other side—”

A hail of bullets battered against the wood protecting them as Micah fired at them while he ran from the tower to the shack, and then to the other.

“Shit...” Arthur muttered, his jaw moving.

“I can make you rich, boys! Real rich!”

“He’s gotta reload at some point,” John murmured, wetting his lips. “Should be any moment now—”

More bullets came and they flinched, lowering their heads. Then, it stopped suddenly. Arthur glanced up at John as he frowned, and was about to open his mouth when they heard a familiar voice.

“Come on out, Micah,” Sadie called, pain lacing her tone. “At least die like a man.”

Micah gave a delighted laugh. “Ooh, ho, ho, hellfire...”

Raising their heads, John and Arthur watched as Sadie, stood in the larger shack that lay between Micah’s current one he was using as cover and the watchtower, aimed a gun at him, her hand pressed against the scarf that was now wrapped around her middle.

“Where’s Ada and Charles?” Arthur hissed, glancing up at the snowy hill before swiftly looking back to Sadie.

“... it’s just like old times,” Micah was saying as he slowly raised his hands, his guns still in them, turning towards Sadie.

“C’mon,” she demanded through gritted teeth, taking a step closer. “You turn around...” She stumbled slightly and had to lean against the wooden fencing next to her. Arthur’s heart sank as he watched Micah laugh while Sadie continued, “... and start walkin’.”

And Micah did. Rising to their feet, the men watched Sadie move towards him, pressing her gun into his back and shoving him on.

“You got me,” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder at her, before his gaze went to Arthur and John as they approached. His tone lightened to an almost sing-song as he smiled again. “Just like old times, hm?” He holstered one gun. “All manner of folk payin’ social calls.” He holstered the other.

Arthur felt sick at his knowing smile.

Then, the watchtower door was shoved open.

Startled, Sadie, John and Arthur looked to it, and Arthur felt his heart stop.

Jesus Christ.

Dutch van der Linde stepped out of the watchtower, the guns in his hands raised and pointed at them.

“Hello, sons,” he greeted, eyes shifting from the silent men to Sadie. “Mrs Adler. Been quite a while.”

—

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may8344 · 4 years

Text

The Journey of a Forgotten Soldier (Levi x OC)

Relationships:

Alana Frey (OC)Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Original Female Character(s)Levi Ackerman/Alana FreyFurlan Church/Original Character(s)Furlan Church/Alana Frey

Characters:

Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)Furlan ChurchIsabel MagnoliaAlana Frey (OC) - CharacterErwin SmithHange ZoëPetra RalGunther SchultzEld JinnOluo BozadoKeith ShadisSpecial Operations Squad | Squad Levi

Additional Tags:

Graphic Description of CorpsesBlood and InjuryViolenceMurder

Summary:

Alana Frey, a girl born in the Underground City, longed to see the true sunlight every morning that she would wake up. Alongside her comrades: Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, and Levi, Alana’s life as a thug continued with no way around it; until the sudden day she and her companions were offered the deal of a lifetime.

“Once you complete this job, not only will you be generously compensated for your work,

but you will also earn the right to live above ground.”

Word Count: 2k

---

Chapter 8: Beyond the Walls

Several months later in the southern Shiganshina District, the whole army of Scouts were positioned in front of a large gate on their horses. On each of the three Walls, there are four towns on the periphery known as “districts”. Each southern district had a gate leading outside of the main Wall. The gate had a stone silhouette carving of a different female face with a crown on top of her head.

This was Wall Maria’s gate; the gate that separated humanity from the outside world.

The large, steel bell above rang out, alerting the expedition was about to commence. Surrounding the lines of soldiers, the citizens of Shiganshina stood to wave them off. Some cried, some jumped up and down in excitement, and others watched in disgust and disapproval.

In the front centre of the group, Commander Shadis lifted his head to the Garrison soldiers that ran the walls and gates. Raising his voice, he commanded loudly, “Open the gate!”

The head Garrison soldiers yelled out commands to their subordinates and scurried along the walls. Soon enough, the large concrete gate began to rise, shaking the ground beneath. Every soldier watched in anticipation, some even tearing up in fear. After all, this—like every other expedition—could be leading them to their deaths.

Levi, Furlan, Isabel, and Alana sat on their horses behind Flagon and Sairam. Each of them gave a glance to each other, nodding unison.

“Today, we take one step forward!” Shadis yelled. “Show me what you’ve learned in training! Teach them the power of the human race!” Once the gate had reached its maximum height, he riled up his horse as he kicked the animal’s side. “We will now begin our twenty-third reconnaissance mission! All troops! Advance!” Immediately, he rushed forwards with great speed. The clomping of horse hooves followed behind their leader as everyone began to move.

“Hey, now would be a great time… Someone… Someone tell me this isn’t happening,” Furlan shuddered as he watched their comrades in front of them begin to move. He was confident in his strategy, but now he was beginning to regret the idea.

“Well, it’s certainly hard to believe-” Levi agreed as he urged his horse forwards. “-that humans from the Underground could set foot outside the walls.”

Following their Squad Leader, the quartet rode underneath the wide, gated area and the wall. Before they knew it, the sunlight past the walls peered down on each of them as the vast outside world spread across the lands. The ground went on for miles and miles without a wall in sight. Clear air surrounded everyone and the birds overhead flew without a care in the world.

“Incredible!” Isabel yelled with a large smile as she stared up into the endless blue sky, making out the shapes of the soft, white clouds. Her eyes glistened with hope and happiness. Both Alana and Furlan were speechless at the sight. They were finally on the surface and past the walls.

“Yeah,” Levi said while being in awe himself. His silver orbs shinned in the sun, almost appearing more of a light blue color. “Not bad.”

Just as quickly as Alana’s excitement had come, it was gone like the wind. While the outside world was breathtaking, she remembered what laid in store for her and her comrades up ahead. Anxiety was visible on her face as she looked down and gripped her reins tighter.

Noticing this with his sharp, observant eyes, Levi turned his head back towards her and frowned. “Don’t worry. I’ll do something about the Titans.”

“But Levi!” She argued, “These are Titans, not humans!”

“Don’t you trust me?”

That made her quiet almost immediately. Instead, Furlan spoke up, “It’s not that we don’t trust you. It’s just that…”

Isabel gave off a teasing laugh. “Hah, Furlan, you’re tremblin’ ain’tcha?”

“Hey! Speak for yourself!”

“Sure! Leave it to me, Furlan!” The confident redhead gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll take care of those Titans lickety-split!”

“You little…”

“Stop the chatter!” A voice yelled behind them. Making their way closer, the soldier happened to be Sairam, the only other member of their squad. “The Titans aren’t as soft as you think! How many elite soldiers do you think have been eaten by TItans?! You think a few punks from the Underground have a chance against them!?”

“Hey,” Isabel cut him off with a calm, but determined face. “You say that, but if I end up beating the Titans, then doesn’t that make all them elites lower than punks?”

And just as the redhead had hoped, that had made Sairam even more angry. “Wh— How dare you!? You little—” However, he was cut off by Levi guiding his horse in between the arguing pair. His slanted silver eyes sent off a death-glare to Sairam, a gesture to stop them. “What are you lookin’ at!?”

“Sairam, cut it out!” Flagon demanded as he made his way to his quarreling squad.

“But, Squad Leader!”

“Calm down! We have to prepare to drill the new formation! Titans could show up at any time! Don’t disrupt the ranks!” Flagon’s eyes drifted to Levi’s as he directed his next comment to the cocky ravenette. “Real battle’s not like training.”

“Titan spotted! At 10 o’clock! One fifteen-meter class in the forest! It’s coming this way!”

Everyone flinched as they heard the alarm from a nearby squad.

Shadis, at the front of the formation by Erwin, frowned. “It’s too close. We can’t just slip by. There’s no choice but to engage!” He turned his body around to face the soldiers behind him. With his bellering voice, he commanded, “Vanguard with me! The rest of the force, keep advancing to the supply point! Don’t let it out of the forest! Switch to maneuvering!” He guided his horse towards the Titan on the left with Erwin following close behind as they covered their supply wagons.

“There was a second one in hiding!” Another soldier screamed as he saw a twenty-meter Titan emerging from the forest. “We’ll draw it away! Rear guard! Increase speed, and shake it off!” Two soldiers broke off formation and started to turn towards the trees to lead it away. “Lead it into the forest!”

“Hey! Over here you big half-wit!” The other yelled, trying to grab it’s attention.

But it didn’t stop. Instead, it kept going straight towards the large formation of soldiers who were still on the run.

“What’s wrong!? It’s not following!”

Flagon, who’s squad was only one squad away from the Titan, took notice of the strange behavior. “Oh no. This one’s…” His eyes widened in fear as he remembered. “It’s an Abnormal going your way!”

“No good! The column’s too long! The wagon’s are wide open! Flagon’s Squad, close the distance and fight to the death!” The squad in front of them yelled as they took charge towards the Abnormal Titan. Four pairs of wires launched towards the beast as they attempted to fight.

Without knowing how to react, Flagon turned towards his squad with fear evident in his eyes. “Don’t let the Titan’s near the wagons!” His eyes glued back on the fighting group to his left.

Each of them launched around the being and sliced to the best of their abilities. Despite their strength, one of them was too reckless as he found himself held in the Titan’s strong grip. Slowly getting lifted to the beast’s gigantic mouth, the poor soldier screamed for help. He squirmed and fought in its hand, but to no avail. The Titan had crunched down on the helpless soldier, eating him with no hesitance.

While the Abnormal was distracted with eating, two of the remaining fighters launched themselves towards the nape of the monster’s neck. However, just as the name ‘Abnormal’ insists, it’s behavior did not mirror the mindless Titans. It began to move its body around in order to shake the grappling hooks off.

As one soldier was swung in front of the Abnormal’s mouth, the Titan took no time to bite him out of midair. Blood spilt everywhere. The two remaining Scouts were knocked out on the ground. Once it was done, it began sprinting towards the formation once again.

Flagon was taken completely aback but the massacre of the squad. “Damn, it started running again!” He clicked his tongue in anger. Thoughts ran through the Squad Leader’s mind, but he made a decision quickly. “Sairam, follow me!” He screamed as he rode his horse on the right side of the sprinting Titan.”

“Yes sir!”

Although the leader was focused, he was taken aback by another horse following closely to Sairam’s. On top of it was Levi, face as hard as steel. “You little punk! What are you doing!?”

“You said I shouldn’t underestimate the Titans, right?” Levi asked in a completely calm voice. “Then why use these half-assed tactics to fight them?” With that, he took off ahead of his shocked leader. Isabel, Furlan, and Alana followed closely behind. “Isabel! Lana! Furlan! Let’s go!”

“Shit! If I’d known that this was gonna happen, I’d still be back there drinking sewer water!” Furlan whined as he followed, afraid of what was to come.

“Furlan, shut up and get ready!” Isabel called back.

“W-Wait, you’re still rookies!” Flagon screamed at the rushing three. Unfortunate for him, he was completely ignored.

“The way he swung his arms around? That’s going to be a pain. But while he’s doing it, his legs shouldn’t be moving!” Levi analyzed and explained to the group.

“How you keep a level head during this is beyond me,” Alana mumbled at Levi, uneasiness still written all over her face.

“Damn, he’s big,” Isabel looked up at the Titan with a determined smile.

“Yeah, there’s no way in hell we can beat him. Even so…” Furlan’s face slowly showed relief as he watched Levi who rode in front of him. The ravenette’s cape flew behind him, and it almost looked like a scene from a movie. The blond couldn’t help but admit that he truly looked up to the strong, silver-eyed man.

Levi turned his head and stole a glance at each one of his friends. “Lana, cling to the Titan and draw its attention. Furlan, Isabel, take out its knees and immobilize it. Got it?”

“Easy as pie!” Isabel agreed, determined to take it down.

“Yeah, sure…” Furlan replied with a half-assed smile.

Alana nodded and propped herself to a standing position on her galloping horse’s saddle. She took in a deep breath and launched her ODM Gear to hook onto the Titan’s lower back. Shooting herself towards it, she landed on her feet on the back of the monster while being held up by her wires. She plunged her swords into its skin in order to hold herself on.

With a swift reaction, the Abnormal began twisting his body, trying to shake off the ravenette.

“Now, go!” Levi yelled at the remaining two. He himself shot out his hooks, grasping onto the Titan’s shoulder, propelling himself up even higher with his acceleration. Soon enough, he was about twenty meters above the Abnormal’s head.

“Here we go, Furlan!”

“Oh, god! Fine!”

Both of them launched their wires simultaneously on the back of the Titan’s legs. They swung around to the front side and hurled towards its kneecaps. With a large slice, the Titan’s balance was thrown off as it began to fall forwards.

That’s all that Levi had needed. Shooting himself downwards towards the nape of the neck, he regripped his swords to his liking; one forwards and the other backwards. Spinning sideways in order to gain acceleration, he cleanly cut out the chunk of skin on the neck and jumped off onto the ground. Alana also pushed herself off of the large being before it fell. The limp body of the Titan began steaming from the massive heat of its body temperature.

“No fucking way…” Flagon watched in awe from the sidelines with Sairam.

The four regrouped on the ground, each grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Oh, man! That was awesome, Levi!” Isabel yelled, jumping up and down in excitement.

“You three did well, too.” He responded, ruffling the redhead's hair.

Erwin, who had also finished off a titan, witnessed the teamwork between the quartet. Instead of staring with amazement, he wore a large, open-mouthed smile.

“So your wings really are the real deal, Levi.”

---

(A/N) In all honesty, this chapter was a very difficult one to write at first. Earlier on (I believe chapter three?) I explained to my previous editor that action was not a strong suit of mine, and it still isn't. Even so, it is still one of my favorite (non-fluff) chapters I have written, so I hope that was able to convey to the readers. This expedition is definitely a huge one for the quartet and the story line.

Although I still have a couple more chapters pre-written, I am losing my creativity and will to write at the moment. There may be an upcoming hiatus, but I'm not sure about it yet. Thank you all for reading and have a lovely day!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman #fanfic #levi x oc #oc #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman x oc #furlan church #isabel magnolia #alana frey

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morgan-macguire · 5 years

Text

A Bastard Child

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: After finding out that the reader is pregnant with his child, Arthur can’t help but think about Eliza and Isaac. Hosea comes to find him when after Arthur stayed away from camp for a while.

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, tears

A/n: aaa I’m sorta back! This is the first fic I’ve been able to finish in months I’m so happy!! Arthur is a wee bit out of character just bc I’m rusty but I tried really really hard to keep him in character so I hope you like it :)

masterlist

not my gif

How was he supposed to protect you? He couldn’t protect Eliza or Isaac. He couldn’t even protect Sean in Rhodes. Arthur shivered at the thought of anything happening to you.

He didn’t mean to be out for so long. One night turned into two, and two into four. He really had meant to go back to camp, but every time he started back, something got in his way and sent him back into town. He wasn’t going to stay away forever. Just long enough to clear his head, was all. He wouldn’t leave you alone.

Arthur was scared. He didn’t know what to do with himself after you told him. The timing was bad, he’d admit, but he wasn’t upset with you. Arthur wasn’t stupid. He knew it took two to tango, and he did this just as much as you did, but, by god, he was scared.

When he left camp, you feared the worst. He left the morning after you’d told him. Arthur rose early, leaving your room to fetch two cups of coffee. He returned to the room to find you sitting up, having wrapped a thin blanket around your shoulders. You shuffled over a few inches so he could sit beside you.

Aside from a simple ‘good morning’ exchange, the two of you drank your coffee in silence. Arthur allowed you to rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes for another moment. He held one of your hands, gently running his thumb over the back of it.

When your coffee cups had been emptied, Arthur pulled his boots on. He started loading his satchel up, seemingly for a big trip, before slinging it over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” The look on your face made Arthur’s heart clench, but he did have to go into town. He assured you he wasn’t leaving leaving. He said he’d be back. He promised that he’d be back soon. He was serious, he would be back.

But Arthur didn’t return that night, or the next night, or for the next two nights.

Hosea was quick to pick up on your anxiety. He confronted you after you began to withdrawal from regular camp activities, favoring staying in your room instead. After a long conversation, Hosea set off to find his son.

He had asked around town if anyone had seen someone of Arthur’s stature, but most people were useless. Someone had mentioned seeing a man who fit Arthur’s description at the Saloon, but that turned out to be a dead end. Another person mentioned a big guy fishing from some train tracks.

Hosea had began to head towards western Saint Denis, but a large figure holding a large fish caught his attention. Whoever it was had his back turned to Hosea. He seemed to be trying to mail the ginormous fish.

Hosea watched as the brooding man finished the transaction and headed towards his horse. He noted the defeated, yet numb look on Arthur’s face, and the sag in his shoulders. Something was weighing on his conscience, and Hosea was sure he himself knew what it was. Arthur stood by his horse but did not mount, instead opting to gently pat the Turkoman’s neck. His eyes dropped to the floor, and he seemed to recede inside himself even more.

“Quite a catch you had there.” Hosea exclaimed, halting Silver Dollar next to the Turkoman. Arthur’s head shot up, and a wave of anxiety rushed through his body.

“What’re you doing here, Hosea?” Arthur asked, stomach dropping.

“You haven’t been back to camp in nearly a week. Y/n is worried, my boy. She misses you.”

“You know?” Arthur

“Of course I do, Arthur.”

“Dutch?”

“No, and we are going to keep it that way for a while. Don’t need him getting any ideas crazier than what he’s already got.”

Arthur hesitated before asking his next question.

“Are you mad?”

“More so disappointed you two weren’t more careful, but no, I’m not mad.”

Arthur’s heart sank, he probably would have preferred Hosea be mad at him than disappointed.

“I- we didn’t mean for this to happen. We tried to be careful-“

“I know.”

“I wasn’t going to leave, I’m not leav-“

“I know, Arthur. Calm down.”

Arthur felt like a young child, desperately trying to explain himself to his pa. Hosea, all knowing, kept his face stern and his hands relaxed. He quieted Arthur down, letting him know that he wasn’t here to yell. Hosea hadn’t seen Arthur so lost since Mary, back when he was just a boy. He knew Arthur was worried, and he knew Arthur wasn’t a fool. He knew Arthur wasn’t going to abandon you, it wasn’t in his heart. He studied the anguish and fear in Arthur’s eyes, heart aching as he thought back to the same look in yours.

“You’re breaking her heart, dear boy.”

“I don’t mean to. I’m just trying to get my head together, Hosea.”

“I know, boy, but this isn’t the way to handle it.”

Arthur stammered for a moment before looking Hosea straight in the eye, clenching his fists with a deep breath.

“I’m afraid, Hosea.”

Hosea frowned at the cowboy, thinking back to the look on your face as you cried on his shoulder only a few hours ago.

“You’re not the only one, Arthur. Y/n is young, pregnant, in a wanted gang of outlaws, and on her own. She’s scared. Just as scared as you, if not more.”

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t’a done this to her.“

“I don’t want to hear that talk, boy. What’s done is done. I think you should act like the great man you are, and be a father.”

“I ain’t a great man, Hosea.” Arthur grumbled.

With an eye roll, Hosea shook his head. He chose not to respond to Arthur’s comment, posing a question instead.

“So will you ride back to camp with me? Or should I just tell her you’re fine?”

Arthur didn’t know what he should do. He wanted to go to you, to hold you in his arms and tell you just how much he loved you, and that he’d always be there no matter what, but a dreadful bout of anxiety was building up in the pit of his stomach.

How would you react to him showing up after nearly a week gone? How much pain had you been in because of his absence? Did you hate him?

Picking up on Arthur’s hesitation, Hosea spoke up, “Ride to camp with me, please?”

Arthur decided not to waste any more time. He nodded, looking up at Hosea.

He climbed up on his horse, and the two men rode off.

——

Arthur rode into Shady Belle next to Hosea, glancing around for any sign of you.

You were sitting with Abigail, silently patching holes in one of Javier’s shirts on the house porch as Jack drew in the dirt with a stick just a few feet below. Heavy hoof pounding entering camp caught your attention. You looked up, nearly gasping at the sight of Hosea and Arthur.

You found yourself standing, placing the needle and thread on the wooden chair. You watched as Hosea and Arthur exchanged a few words, and as Hosea gave Arthur a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before heading off in another direction.

Arthur dismounted his horse, eyes roaming around the camp. When his eyes connected with yours, he immediately began walking towards you. Your legs carried you closer to him as well, meeting him in front of the old fountain.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You both just stood about two feet apart, staring at each other with unreadable looks on your faces. Arthur was the first to move, reaching out and pulling you close. Tears pooled in your eyes, and Arthur squeezed you against him.

“I’m sorry, darlin,” He whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry.” Arthur held you as close to him as possible. His heart clenched when he felt heavy tears drop into his shoulder and a warm set of arms wrap around his waist.

“We’re gonna figure this out.” He pulled away to wipe your cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’m here with you. I ain’t gonna leave you.”

#rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur x reader #rdr x reader #rdr2 x reader #wtf else do i tag

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milwrites · 4 years

Text

Weird that it happened twice, right?

chapter three - masterlist

A/N: this one’s awkward and was my problem child. the pov switches, i think you can see the change the first time and then from then on it’s “narrator / john pov” in normal text and reader in italics.

word count: 3.2k

T/W: swearing? blood/ semi-graphic violence and a single mention of smut, does including the Smiths lyrics count as a trigger?

A week later, and the Grays and Braithwaites were realising Dutch's alliance with the other. The Grays had already launched an offensive upon some of the men while in Rhodes; Sean lucky to escape with his life after a bullet passed clean through his shoulder. As of yet the Braithwaite family seemed to be ignoring the gang.

“Jack, kiddo, listen to me. If you go to sleep now we can play cowboys tomorrow, I promise.” John’s voice was strained as he bargained with the small child, who was obstinately refusing to take off the man’s hat and (empty) gun belt. Both of them looked to me for back up, the boy grabbing at my hand, John waiting for me to speak. I sighed. “Would it help if I took him down the path to see the deer? I’d only be a few minutes.” I spoke to John, who nodded gratefully, before I turned to the eagerly waiting child. “You wanna come with me to see the deer buddy?” Jack’s face lit up and he nodded his head exuberantly, his father’s hat falling to the ground. He set off determinedly to where Bonnie was grazing, stroking the mare with his little hands.

John kissed my forehead as we followed Jack to the horse, I mounted bonnie first with John passing the boy up to me, where he proudly sat in front of me gripping Bonnie’s long mane. I clicked the horse into a slow walk so that Jack could stay balanced and to help the boy settle down from the excitement of being a cowboy. He’d leaned back against me and was watching the trees pass by, occasionally lifting his arm to point at the rabbits that skittered across the forest floor. It wasn’t too long before the woods thinned and the sight of pastures extending down to the lake side pricked Bonnie’s ears and raised her head. “ah ah ah,” I scolded her, knowing exactly that my horse wanted to gallop through the open fields as she tossed her head and tried to bring the bit between her teeth. I sent a warning tug down the reins, her admitting defeat and lowering her head again. Jack had spotted the deer ambling by the lakeside and was bouncing in the saddle to get a better look. I shushed him gently and pointed in the direction of a fawn that was hovering at the water’s edge. He was enthralled by the movements of the tiny doe, more than happy to be lifted from the saddle to sit on my knee while we leaned on a log to watch the deer, who remained unbothered by us. Bonnie settled near, huffing down our necks and looking dangerously close to rolling in the clay mud of the lake. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the scene; Bonnie’s gleaming coat matched by the deer, Jack falling asleep while curled into my sweater, and two armed men approaching us.

“Can I help you?” I spoke coldly, on edge by the closeness at which they had positioned themselves to me and the now sleeping child. They remained silent. I stood up, Jack in my arms, and moved toward my golden horse, my other hand near to my holsters. Empty. I cursed myself as my fingers skated over the leather, finding no trace of cold metal. The men were still watching us from horseback, blocking my exit on either side. I shook her head a little, mortified at what I was going to have to do, and filled my lungs to shout for help - I presumed we were close enough to Clemens Point for someone to hear me. I never got the scream out, as the butt of a revolver hit me square in the back of the head, knocking me cold.

Bonnie wandered into camp hours later. Alone.

She was gone. Had left him. Not two weeks into being with him and she’d fucking upped and left, taking his son with her. He pushed them away, refused to belive his intrusive thoughts, knowing she would never do that to him and yet losing more and more faith in her with every passing moment that she wasn’t there. He didn’t think himself enough to keep her with them, would never assume she would stay for him, but bargained with himself that if she was really gone she would have taken Bonnie with her: that flighty little horse meant the world to her and he knew she would be unable to leave her behind. So he held out hope through the night that she would come and push open the flaps of his tent, jack in tow, with a grin on her face and a wild story to tell and he would have her back in his arms. He swore softly, barely two weeks he’d had her and now he couldn’t last a night without her warming his bed.

Morning broke with a lazy kind of peace, rudely interrupted by a string of expletives from Dutch. he stalked to where John was, for want of a better word, brooding as he cleaned his revolvers with more force than was strictly necessary. “John, son. They have her and Jack.” Dutch’s voice was calm but his anger was audible. John’s jaw clenched, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Who.” The word was flat, monotone, ground out from gritted teeth. Dutch wordlessly handed him a letter written on creamy parchment. He read it, his face darkening with every line. It was from Catherine Braithwaite. She had taken (Y/N). She didn’t intend to take the boy, she had written, but “he would serve as collateral should the girl continue to act like a hellcat.” John huffed a humourless laugh at the woman’s description of his girl. “I’m going to get her. Them both.” “We all are.”

He rode to Braithwaite Manor in silence, listening to Arthur and Dutch cursing the old hag and readying himself for the inevitability of a fight. Old Boy seemed equally riled up, snorting and threatening to pull the reins from John’s hands, unused to his rider being so tense on his back. John snapped out of his haze, leaning to pat Old Boy’s neck with a murmured apology. He brought him to a halt near the other horses, and removed his repeater from the saddle - feeding a full magazine of ammunition into it. “I need you to stay calm, John.” Dutch instructed to the man beside him. John said nothing, knowing full well that his voice would either break or betray his anger completely.

I laughed, a delirious little laugh born of the unremitting pain I felt. A trickle of blood ran down my chin, my lip reopened by the blow to the face one of the lackeys had inflicted upon me. It mingled with the drying blood at the corner of my mouth, a gory lipstick that painted them red and stained my teeth. I lay back onto the mattress on the floor, still panting out small laughs, and looked up at my captor. “You hurt a hair. On that boy’s head. And I will kill you all.” I rasped, the lack of water and my screaming having left my voice in tatters. The man watching me strode over, looked me in the eye, and kicked me in the midriff. I groaned from the impact, curling in to protect myself. He walked out.

She wasn’t there. John checked every room in the godforsaken house and she wasn’t in a single one of them. He blindly followed Dutch out the manor, taking no notice of the woman he dragged behind him, or the crackle of the house as it was set on ablaze. He heard the woman say that Angelo Brontë had them, had her, that they were in Saint Denis if they weren’t already on a boat to Italy. He didn’t wait for permission as he drew his revolver, aimed it in the woman’s wretched face and pulled the trigger. He emptied the whole magazine into her skull, then followed Dutch once again back to Old Boy.

“Don’t go too deep into your head. You won’t come out again.” John registered Arthur's voice, the affection masked by a hard exterior that John knew he had crafted for years. He nodded, still unwilling to open up for fear his every anguish and demon escape out of him into existence. So he nodded again. “This ain’t what we should be doing,” he started, “they’ve got my- my son and my (Y/N) and we’re what? Going finding somewhere else to live?” He finished his sentence bitterly. Arthur chided him, John knew that they were moving because the law was closing in on them, and that they were no use to (Y/N) or Jack at the end of a rope. It scared arthur, seeing the man he saw a brother seemingly so broken, and the ferocity with which he now fought. The straggling Lemoyne Raiders at Shady Belle were unable to put up any fight at all, barely raising their weapons before John had cut them down or painted the floor with their brains. Arthur watched his eyes deadening with every hour that his family was missing, and knew that Dutch was taking too long.

They taunted me. Let me listen to Jack’s cries at being alone and hungry for so long, at having heard every wound the men had made on my body, at missing his father. They threatened me. Told me that John had a few days left before they killed me. Before they killed Jack. I offered my life for the boy’s, told them I would die quietly if they let the boy back to his father.

Dutch had charmed his way into Brontë’s home with apparent ease, Arthur having found his whereabouts after a single trip to Saint Denis. John couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing as they sat and drank Italian alcohol in Angelo Brontë’s company. He seemed to be playing along with Dutch’s “this is all a big misunderstanding can we please have the child and the girl back” narrative, portraying himself as a good man who had no idea the people he was housing were hostages. Bullshit. He called for his servants to bring Jack in first. It was a clever move, Jack had been bathed and the clothes he had gone missing in had been cleaned and pressed. He looked for all the world like nothing was wrong as he ran to John and hurled himself into his father’s arms. “Can you make (Y/N)-“ he hiccuped, “-stop crying, papa?” John patted the boy on the back, telling him he’d try his best, before turning to Brontë expectantly. “The girl.” Arthur spoke threateningly before John could open his mouth. Two men left the room at a nod from the Italian.

“You’re back!” I welcomed them sarcastically, raising my head weakly to look at their blank faces. One of them moved to where I was lying on the floor, arms tied behind me, and helped me to my feet. I stared at them in surprise while they led me out of the room. I caught sight of my face in a gilded mirror hung in the hallway and winced, telling myself that John loved me for my winning personality not my face or once pristine body.

Arthur saw her down the hallway and instantly put a warning hand on John’s arm to keep him seated. “Marston.” he growled. “You gotta keep calm or this’ll end bad for her.” She stepped into the room. Saw no one except John, going to him as he moved from his place on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, heart breaking as he felt her body rack with sobs.

He held me until they subsided, both blissfully unaware of our surroundings. I pulled away from him, wanting to see his face, and he took me in fully. I was a mess. shirt ripped and bloody, showing welts and bruises across my body; ranging from deep purple to vivid yellow green. My face was beaten, my lip split and still bleeding, heavy bags under my eyes and another bruise forming under my jaw. He noted it all, even as I was admiring how beautiful he was, and tucked me away into his arms again.

Brontë watched us all with beady eyes, waiting for one of them to shoot first. The three men stood up, I was held up by John and Jack was in Arthur’s arms. They all knew that if they tried to exact their revenge now, it would only result in Jack or me being caught in the crossfire. No one hindered our exit from the building, Brontë pleased to have us gone. I greeted Old Boy in a whisper and leaned against him for support. John mounted first, reaching down from the saddle to lift me up as if I were no bigger than Jack. He gave me the reins and held me with both hands, scared I could slip off at any moment. “We gotta mansion now, sweetheart, you’ll love it.” he said, his hands rubbing my side, avoiding bruises as best he could. My voice had regained some strength, having had a drink the moment I’d stepped foot out of the building, my tone lighter and more playful. “That’s good, really good. Almost like home for me. You can bang me against a wall now.”

shady belle - 1899

The long abandoned mansion may have been dilapidated, damp and crawling with pests, but it allowed my wounds to heal, my bruises to fade and my spirit to very much return. John had held me with heart breaking gentleness my first night back, as if scared I would shatter if he gripped me too tight. I had clung to him like a child, taking comfort in his warmth and the safety his arms gave. It had knocked me badly, the stint with Brontë, and for a good week I was reluctant to leave camp without someone with me. I bounced back. I always do. Gradually going further and further away from Shady Belle alone, even managing a trip to Saint Denis one morning, about a fortnight after I had returned.

“I’m ready.” I was close to tears, frustrated and angry with the men around me, all telling me I was in no fit state to rob the city bank with them. No state at all. I looked to John for back up, who refused to meet my eyes, looking instead at the floor as if were of the greatest interest. I chewed the inside of my mouth and turned then to Dutch, eyes imploring but voice steely and determined. “I’m ready. Take me with you, you know I’m good. You know I can rack safes and you know I’m a better shot than half of the people you’re already taking with you.” Dutch caught Hosea’s eye, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded, unable to say no to the girl he saw as the daughter he never had. I reminded him of bessie, he’d told me, and he thought if he’d ever had a child with her, he’d have loved it to turn out like the fiery woman in front of him. My whole demeanour changed, my smile sweet now that I had my own way and my eyes lost their harshness. I left the room humming to myself, heading to the horses.

John refused to talk to me the entire ride to Saint Denis, despite me being right next to him the whole way; Bonnie protesting violently if I tried to move the mare away from Old Boy. I didn’t push him to talk to me, sensing that it wouldn’t go well for either of them. I stole glances at his face once in a while, embarrassed at how attractive I found the anger clearly written across his clenched jaw, hard eyes and hands that were gripping the reins so tightly that every one of his veins stood out from them. I swore under my breath as he spotted me staring, giving me an unimpressed glare, his eyebrows raised slightly and his head inclined to the side. I raised my hands in defence, scowling at him once he was no longer watching me at his apparently unfounded anger. “What the fuck is up with you?” I couldn’t keep it in anymore. He didn’t answer. Choosing instead to shake his head, eyes rolling a little, and kicking Old Boy to move faster. I stopped Bonnie from following, the mare turning to look at me with those piercing ice blue eyes, but I was crushed by how done with me he was acting.

I let myself really enjoy robbing the bank. God knows I deserved it. The rush of adrenaline stopping me from noticing John’s gaze the entire time. I busied myself instead with threatening and charming the bank tellers into submission, and making my way into the vaults. I know he heard my astonishment as I opened the safes from his exasperated sigh, and was somehow shocked at the filth of my language upon seeing the stacks of money within them. He called to me to hurry up and to watch my language - the law was outside and I was swearing too loudly. I hated how happy I was to even hear his voice, and drew my weapons again, grinning beneath my mask.

The first lawman to fall had a handlebar moustache. I remembered noting it before sending a bullet through his brain and another through his neck for good measure. The others were less distinctive, a swathe of blue coated police men giving way to checker print Pinkertons. Dutch shouted to us that it made no difference, keep shooting, he was blowing a hole in the wall and then we’d get out. The sound of breaking glass and police whistles almost drowned out my scream as John was knocked to the floor by a police baton. I fell into a blind rage, no longer taking the time to aim as I shot at anything that moved in my direction; I thought him dead, thought the last thing I’d said to the love of my fucking life was “what the fuck is wrong with you”, thought he’d died angry with me. A heartless hand on my shoulder, pushed and it was over, alabaster crashing down, my hands pulled behind me back into cuffs, my vision so obscured by tears that I only saw the tail of Dutch’s coat as he left me to be dragged into custody.

I awoke groggily. The sound of water and wading birds filling my ears, the smell of kerosene and smoke assaulting my nose. A man was leaning on me, a mop of black hair on my shoulder, and I elbowed them in disgust. He sat up, blinking against the light, and I cried out in relief to see the grey eyes of John Marston looking back into my own. “‘M sorry, I’m so sorry, i-“ “Shut up. I’m sorry too.” He kissed me once, pulling back to look over my face for signs of injury. I was broadly unscathed, a slight black eye but no sign of serious harm. Only then did he look around him to see the island we were headed to, the armed prison guard, the other convicts and the looming silhouette of Sisika Penitentiary. I whispered a single question that I knew the answer to only too well.

“They’re going to hang us?”

#john marston x reader smut #rdr2 #john marston #john marston x reader

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reddeaddenial · 5 years

Text

It’s long ok but plz consider: Kieran was awed how brave and tough Arthur was to be able to escape the O’Driscolls and Colm when he got taken. So when the same happened to himself and they were torturing him for the gang’s whereabouts, in a moment of being left alone after a long torture session, he finds a way to escape.

The entire time as he found a way to loosen the ropes, he was inspired and determined to survive. He thought ‘How would Arthur Morgan do this?’ as he wrapped his wounds. Getting free he would think ‘This is how Mr.Morgan would go about it’, using his quiet unassuming nature to sneak up and silently kill any guards in his way, using some old blade he found lying around the camp...then lighting a tent on fire for a distraction thinking ‘He definitely would have done the same too!’

Kieran nearly cries seeing his loyal horse hitched to the side of camp having been taken too. He quietly mounts up while the flames are burning high and the O’Driscolls are panicked trying to fight the fire. He takes a long twisting and turning way back to Shady Belle, just to make sure he wasn’t followed. ‘It might be part of the O’Driscolls plan after all! Mr.Morgan would have thought of that too, surely.’

A few days later, exhausted, Kieran wanders into camp, covered in blood, mud and soot stains, wounds irritated. Mary Beth looks up at the sounds of a horse coming to a stop, and the slump of a body falling off a horse. She screams and gets everyone’s attention, quickly going over to see if Kieran is alright. He’s a live of course, weakly telling her and the others gathered around what happened.

He was captured. He was tortured, He escaped, killed,he burned a camp down. For them. To come back to them.

I think the gang would suddenly really look at Kieran for the very first time. Respect, appreciation, acknowledgment, a little guilt even for their previous treatment of him.

Later, he’d be resting in a tent by himself and Arthur stops by. They don’t really say much, but there’s this new connection of now having both gone through something similar. Finally Arthur says. “You did good, boy.” Kieran laughs awkwardly and looks at his hands, not able to keep eye contact with his next words. “Naw. I just did what I thought you would in that moment.” And Arthur just raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms all “You fer real? You did more than I ever did. For folks that you didn’t need to protect. That’s all you Kieran.”

It's a rare moment where Kieran isn’t called boy or O’Driscoll. He feels accepted, apart of the gang and a family. And he is. The gang sees him as one of their own and would protect him like they would any other.

So after that talk with Arthur, Kieran is rarely seen without a smile on his face, happy to be home.

#I JUST WANT A HAPPY END OK #I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THIS #kieran duffy #rdr2 spoilers #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 imagine #I just want him happy and ALIVE #maddy has a lot of emotions about this

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saxonspud · 4 years

Text

Kidnapped - Chapter 10

Dutch held you, gently caressing your naked skin, until you drifted off to sleep. He wanted to do so much more, but he didn’t. After the trauma you had experienced, he needed to be sure that you fully trusted him. Besides, he could still see how tender your leg was. You didn't think he’d noticed you wincing, even with the slightest movement, but he did. He also knew at some point Hosea would need to check the wound. You were so innocent and naive, you would likely be terrified all over again, unless you trusted him completely.

Once Dutch was sure you were sleeping, he gently laid you back on the bed, covering you with a blanket. He quietly left the room. He needed to talk to Susan about finding you some clothes. He had no intention of allowing you to wear the clothes that Bronte had bought for you.

Dutch stepped out of the house and headed towards Susan’s tent. He just needed to get you some temporary clothes. Once this was all over, he would take you, and buy you the best clothes that money could buy. Not like the ones that Bronte had bought you, but classy. Then everyone would leave this godforsaken swamp. Travel west, or abroad, Europe, or maybe the carribean.

Dutch was snapped out of his daydream by a scream.

He looked towards the main entrance to see a horse walking in.

Dutch looked and looked again, “what the fuck!” he hissed.

“O’Driscolls!” Bill screamed, “take cover!”

You woke suddenly to the sound of screams and gunshots. You froze, pulling the blanket up to your neck. What was going on? You couldn’t even get out of the bed to look. You daren’t try and stand, let alone walk.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw the door opening. That was short lived, when a stranger walked in the door. His straggly grey hair hung down to his shoulder, his face was covered by a grey stubble.

“W...who are you?” you stuttered.

He chuckled, “who I am don’t matter princess, all you need to know is I’m taking you home!”

You stared in horror, “No! Help!” you screamed.

“’fraid that ain’t gonna happen, seems like ol’ Dutch is too busy with my boys to worry about you,” he chuckled, “your lucky princess, if I wasn’t bein’ paid, I’d fuck you just to spite him!”

You carried on screaming as he walked towards you. Without another word his fist collided with your jaw. There were no stars, everything just went black.

The firefight was over not long after it started. The O’Driscolls turned tail and ran. Dutch quickly survey the area, there were no casualties, except for poor Kieran, who’s decapitated body had arrived on the back of the horse. As soon as the shooting had started, the horse bolted, leaving Kieran on the ground.

“Javier, Micah, go bury the poor kid somewhere, I need to check on Emmeline,” Dutch sighed.

Dutch rushed back to the house, he hoped you hadn’t been too frightened. He was thankful you couldn’t walk, the last thing he wanted was for you to run into the shooting.

As Dutch rushed into the bedroom, panic welled within him, seeing the room empty.

He rushed over to the bed, and was horrified to find spots of blood on the bed, the blanket was missing.

“Fucking Colm!” he growled.

Dutch ran out onto the balcony.

“Charles!” he screamed, “get up here now!”

Charles came running into the sitting room, closely followed by Arthur.

“She’s gone, they’ve taken her,” Dutch growled, “I need you to find her, like last time.”

Charles nodded, and quickly headed into the bedroom, then back out into the sitting room then down the stairs.

Dutch stared at Arthur, “it was a distraction, Kieran, the O’Driscolls. This has gotta be Colm!”

Arthur frowned, “Why? Why would he do that? How would he know we even had her?”

Dutch dragged his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know son, but I have to get her back!”

The first thing you noticed when you woke was pain, and the taste of blood. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything. The man who had hit you, had also now tied you up and gagged you.

You were moving, albeit slowly and you could could hear the noise of water. You must be on a boat.

You didn't struggle or try to cry out. You knew from when Dutch kidnapped you, that it would only result in more pain or discomfort. You must have done something, because your new kidnapper realised you were awake.

“So have you decided to behave yourself, princess.” he chuckled.

You gently nodded your head.

He laughed again, but didn't say anything else.

Before long the boat came to a sudden halt with a thud.

You heard voices in the distance. Then you were being carried.

You tried to make out what they were saying, but you couldn’t understand most of it. Probably because it was drowned out by the noise of your captors boots on gravel. All you could hear was a crunch, crunch, crunch.

The crunch soon changed to a click, and the atmosphere felt warmer. You must be inside.

Then you weren’t being carried, as you felt yourself falling.

The landing wasn't soft. Your body hit something cold and hard, and you cried out.

“Careful you idiot, he doesn't want her damaged!”

Your captor chuckled, “bit late for that, now where's my money, we had a deal.”

“Mr Colm O’Driscoll!” You recognised the voice, but you couldn't quite place it.

“Mr Bronte, how about you pay up, then I’ll be on my way,” Colm O’ Driscoll hissed.

You felt a hand touch your face, you flinched and tried to move away.

“You’ve damaged my goods, Mr O’Driscoll,” Angelo Bronte growled.

Colm O’Driscoll rolled his eyes, “your goods wouldn’t shut the fuck up!”

“Take her upstairs, Mario,” Bronte commanded, “whilst I deal with Mr O’Driscoll.”

You felt yourself being lifted again, gently this time, as you were carried away from the noise. You realised now who the man was. He was a friend of your fathers, the man was always visiting. Bringing you the clothes which Dutch hated so much.

The man called Mario gently placed you on the bed, he removed the blindfold and the gag. You blinked, trying to adjust to the light. It was at this point you realised that the blanket you had been wrapped in was gone. You rolled onto your stomach, trying to shield yourself from the stranger, who was staring at you.

“bellissima!” He purred.

You watched as he walked over to a dresser. He pulled out a nightdress, identical to the one that you had been wearing the night you had been taken by Dutch.

He laid it on the bed, and pulled out a knife, slicing through the ropes that bound your hands.

“Here, principessa. Put this on,” he commanded.

You quickly grabbed the nightdress and put it on. You were slightly surprised that it was a perfect fit.

He quickly grabbed your wrists and retied them behind your back.

“Sorry Tesoro, but I have my orders,” he whispered.

You watched as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone, you pulled at the bindings on your wrist, only managing to chafe your wrists on the rough rope. You let out a sob, and buried your face in the pillow.

Why you, why did so many people want you. The realisation suddenly came to you. You were nothing more than goods. You were exactly as Mr Bronte had described you.

Charles and Arthur returned to Shady Belle. Arthur had gone with Charles as he tracked your departure from the old plantation house. Dutch had been right, the raid on the house had been a distraction. They couldnt guarantee it was Colm that had taken you, but Charles had confirmed that it was a man, who he had tracked. The trail had stopped at a jetty close to the old Braithwaite house. He could only assume that where ever they had taken you, had been by boat.

Dutch nodded thoughtfully, his calmness belying the internal worry that was raging inside him.

“Thank you Charles. Arthur, get John, Lenny and Bill. I need to call in a favour, and we have a call to make!”

The door to the bedroom where you were currently being kept, swung open with a clatter, making you jump.

You turned your head to look. It wasn’t the man called Mario, It was Angelo Bronte. He glared at you angrily.

“Have you any idea how much trouble you’ve caused!” he hissed.

You stared at him speechlessly, which seemed to make him angrier.

He sat on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably close.

“What where you doing in Dutch Van Der Linde’s bed, naked?” He growled.

You stared at him, what was it to him? Why did he need to know?

“W..why am I here?” You whispered, questioningly.

Bronte sneered, then laughed mirthlessly. “Why? Because I own you, Emmeline!”

He grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them hard.

“So tell me, has he corrupted my you? Have you become his whore?” he growled.

Tears began to pool in your eyes, your hear beat wildly in your chest.

“You stupid Bitch!” he growled, as his hand made contact with your face, slapping it hard.

He stood up, “you better to pray to god that Cornwall still wants you for his wife!” he hissed, as he stormed out of the room.

Tears started to flow down your cheeks, as you started to sob. What was going to happen to you now.

#rdr2 fanfic #original female character #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #charles smith #colm o'driscoll #angelo bronte #wattpad #a03

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selfship-uncharted · 5 years

Photo

The Fugitive part XII

part I - part II - part III - part IV - part V - part VI - part VII - part VIII - part IX - part X - part XI - part XII - part XIII - part XIV

A/N: Thank you so much as always for your support! A/N2: English is not my first language. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OC (Claire Russell) Warnings: a little angst, violence, sexual assault (not explicit), blood Words: 3,250 (Geez... that’s not like me at all :’) ) Tags: @asiramhera @missdictatorme @zoilalove213 @avast-you-dirty-dog @lowkeyofsassguard

Special thanks to @asiramhera for being my beta-reader. Tons of love for you!

The sound of the key opening the cell woke them up. The headache instantly made its appearance, more on her than on Arthur.

She blinked several times before seeing that it was her cell that was being opened.

In front of her, there was a policeman, behind him, Theodore looking at her with severity.

Even though her headache pained her strongly she stood up quickly. Arthur stood up too, holding firmly the bars between them staring at the newcomer.

Theodore walked in the cell, Claire instinctively walked away from him bumping against the wall feeling his intense gaze analyzing her.

The silence between them was suffocating her, her heart was beating fast ready to break her chest, she didn't expect Theodore to go get her in prison, she hoped they would be free to go in the morning and just reach home like nothing ever happened.

Claire with fear dared to look at her husband not knowing what he would do. She didn't have to wait longer. Theodore outraged slapped her violently making her fall on the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" Arthur shook the bars with impotence wanting to punch that bastard.

Theodore briefly looked at Arthur but ignored him. He got close to Claire and took her arm and dragged the girl out of the cell.

"I hope this will be enough to close the matter." He gave some bills to the policeman to buy his silent about Mrs Cornwall having spent the night in prison. The policeman grabbed the bills and nodded.

Arthur saw powerless how Theodore took away Claire, knowing that nothing good might happen to her. He kicked frustrated the bars that didn’t let him go.

Then, Arthur heard Theodore's voice excusing himself after distinguishing the sound of a thud. He had bumped into Hosea, who apparently was coming to get Arthur out of prison. The old man noticed Claire and was ready to salute her but she was too self-absorbed to see him and he decided it was maybe not a good time.

Theodore opened the door of their coach and pushed Claire in it, he jumped behind her and closed the door. He hit the ceiling of the coach with his cane to order the driver to take them home.

Claire was scared, she could easily tell that Theodore was irate, he was so tense, Claire had never seen him like that and she didn't know what he might do to her.

"I didn't want to believe my father's words..." He started chewing every word. "He told me you were a whore... It seems he was right." Theodore in a fast movement grabbed Claire's hair making her head lean backwards. "I've tried to be good to you. I've given you all the space you wanted, I tolerated all your caprices, I let you spend our fortune how you please without a word, and this is how you repay me? Betraying me, making fun of me with a buffon, a stray dog?"

"You are hurting me..." Claire involuntary protested trying to free herself from his grip.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs Cornwall!" Theodore tone was completely sarcastic, even evil.

Theodore threw Claire to the front bench, holding her wrists strongly. "I asked you for one thing. One. Simple. Thing." He took her wrists in one hand while she tried to get rid of him kicking him, but he was already between her legs. "And you are going to give it to me the good way or the bad." He lifted her skirt.

"No!" She cried. "Get your fucking hands off me, you fucking bastard!"

"Shut the fuck up!" He slapped her even harder than he did in prison. "You stay still."

Claire's eyes were filled with raged tears, she bit her bottom lip, she didn't want to cry in front of him, she didn't want to give him that pleasure.

"He is way more gentle..." She started with a tremble in her voice but looking straight up into his eyes. Theodore stopped unbuttoning his pants and looked at her puzzled. "When he kisses me, every part of me is burning from desire..." She knew she was playing a dangerous game but she was determined to piss him off as much as she could. She was not going to enjoy it and neither would he. "And when he gets inside of me..."

"Shut up." He warned her grabbing her face, squeezing her cheeks.

"I can't wait for him to impregnate me with his seed." She spat out with hatred.

"You fucking whore!" He slapped her several times with fury while she cried in pain. With her blood rolling down her chin from her lips she helpless saw how he ripped her shirt exposing the underwear, ready to remove that annoying corset.

Suddenly the door was wide open and a hand took hold of the backside of Theodore collar and dragged him out of the coach.

Claire panted recovering her breath and trying to understand what was happening. She got out of the coach and saw Arthur straddling Theodore punching him not leaving him time to recover from every fist he received in his face.

"You son of a bitch! Don't you dare put your hands on her ever again!"

Claire looked around her, they weren't in Saint-Denis no more, they were so busy fighting each other that they didn't realize that the coach changed its speed and its direction.

"Arthur, stop! You are going to kill him!" Claire turned around to see Hosea on his horse and holding the reins of Arthur's horse.

"You piece of shit..." Arthur released Theodore from his grip letting him fall nearly unconscious on the ground obeying Hosea.

Claire looked at her husband, his face was completely covered in blood, he was whining from pain, he was pathetic.

"You all right?" Arthur cupped her face to make her look at him.

She just nodded covering herself with trembling hands. She bent down her head to hide her tears that been falling for a while. Arthur noticed the blood coming out of her lips, her red cheeks from all the slaps and pressed his jaw in anger, if he saw that earlier he would have hit Theodore even harder.

"It’s okay now..." He whispered pulling her to him. "I got you. I got you..."

The second time he said that it was softer than the first, making Claire bury her face in his chest, trying to put her mind in blank to forget what just happened and feel safe in his arms.

"I'm afraid I might interrupt," Hosea cleared his throat grabbing Arthur’s attention. "But we should get out of here, I don't think the police will take long to get here."

Arthur then realised that he actually didn't have a plan, he looked at Claire thinking of what to do, where to take her, she returned the glance with a plea in her eyes and tightening her grip on his arms. She didn’t want to come back to that city.

Hosea sighed with impatience. "It's obvious you have to take her to the camp, she can't go anywhere else after this..." He pointed Theodore with his chin.

Theodore was crawling in pain in the ground and reached for the hem of Claire's long skirt. She stepped back instinctively releasing herself from his grip.

"Claire... You are mine..." He whimpered being unable to stand up. "If you go with him... You are dead to me."

How dare he? After all he did to her? Those last few days have been a nightmare for her. Claire looked at him with bitterness and pity, she closed her fists in hatred.

"So be it..." Claire took off her wedding ring and threw it to him. She didn't wait for any reaction of him, she went to Arthur's horse and mounted it.

"Are you coming?" Claire was holding the reins waiting for Arthur to get on the horse.

Hosea looked at her with a smile of amazement. He liked that woman.

***

Shady Belle was a big abandoned manor that the Van der Linde gang was using as a camp. Around the mansion there were several tents, some bonfires were litten and people sat around them keeping them alive.

The horses stopped before getting into the camp. Arthur helped Claire to get down the horse, Arthur saw her looking around her with insecurity.

“It’s all right, Claire.” He said softly. “You are safe.”

They walked into the camp, Arthur’s arm around her shoulders but his eyes checked his surroundings like looking for someone.

Claire noticed some curious eyes going to her, there were many kinds of people there. Even a little toddler who ran to his mummy's skirts asking who was that strange lady.

“Mr Morgan!” an old lady come to them with surprise in all written in her face. “What is this all about?”

“Miss Grimshaw, this is Claire…” Arthur cleared his throat. “Russell. Mrs Russell.” He quickly looked back at Claire then turned to Miss Grimshaw again. Miss Grimshaw inspected Claire, her awful image, the blood in her lips, the red cheeks, the state of her dress. “Could you please….”

“Of course!” She said raising her hand to make him say no more. “Come with me, child.”

Miss Grimshaw took Claire by her shoulders and dragged her away from Arthur. Claire instinctively turned around to see him.

“Be with ya in a moment.” He reassured her.

“I’m going with her.” Hosea tapped Arthur’s shoulder and walked with the two women.

Arthur nodded. “I’d better talk to Dutch...” He fixed his hat and went to the gang leader room inside the manor.

***

Miss Grimshaw took Claire to one of the tents, and invite her to sit on a chair.

“Tilly!” She yelled. “Need some help her’!”

A beautiful black young girl appeared seconds later.

“Yes, Miss Grimshaw?” She eyed Claire from tip to toe surprised to see a stranger in the camp.

“Assist Mrs Russell to get herself clean and take care of that horrible wound.” Miss Grimshaw’s order was quickly executed. Tilly delicately cleaned Claire’s lip wound as the trace of mud in her face from the riding to the camp.

Tilly discerned the sorrow in Claire’s eyes. They were red from crying, her cheeks were still burning from the slaps. She felt sorry for her even though she didn’t really know what happened to her.

***

Arthur went upstairs to find Dutch in his room standing by the window holding a book. He didn’t seem to have any interest in the book since he was looking through the window.

“Who is she?” Dutch asked not bothering to turn to Arthur, his eyes locked outside the house.

“The news sure run fast.” Arthur chuckled nervously, he wasn't sure why he felt so agitated, he was afraid maybe Dutch would get angry to him having brought a stranger to the camp even if they did that quite often, but now it wasn’t the right time to bring more people in, or that he might make it more difficult for her bringing her here.

“I remember her.” Dutch was looking to where Claire was. “Mrs Russell, isn't it?”

“Yeah…” Arthur’s sight fell on the floor.

“I can't help myself but ask how you two met.” He closed the book he was holding and turned to see Arthur's reaction. “Don't get me wrong, son. I don't see how a woman of her status would mix it up with…”

“Someone like me?” He smirked bitterly.

“Let's just say, with outlaws.” Dutch clarified himself.

“Long story….” Arthur sighed.

***

“Everything good, ladies?” Hosea Matthews stepped in the tent going by Claire’s side resting his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “It’s okay, child. You are safe with us.”

“What happened?” Tilly couldn’t help but ask.

Claire pressed her jaw and looked away at her memories. She could still feel Theodore’s grip in her wrists.

“Her husband was... badly beating her.” Hosea explained patting Claire's shoulder, feeling her going tense.

“The poor girl!” Gasped Tilly. “Don’t worry, Mrs Russell. We will take care of you.” She took Claire’s hand into hers and gently squeezed it. Claire looked at her with surprised. She wasn’t used to that kindness, only from her dead maid Marianne.

“Mr Matthews! Mrs Russell needs some privacy!” Miss Grimshaw scolded the old man. She gave some new clothes to Claire she found in an old trunk. “Now, hush!”

Hosea felt obliged to leave the ladies alone.

***

“I am all ears.” Dutch's invitation came accompanied by an intense stare at the cowboy.

“I… her father… she…” Arthur didn't know where to begin, he didn't want to lie to Dutch but at the same time he wanted to protect Claire, he was afraid that if Dutch knew her relation with Cornwall he might use her and put her in some kind of danger. “Some months ago, she ran away from home. Her father paid me well to take her back… That was when I spent some weeks off the camp...” Arthur waited for a reaction in Dutch before continuing but he didn’t do anything. “We saw again at the mayor's party… since then, we met... occasionally…”

“Did you sleep together?” Dutch question hit hard on Arthur. The cowboy bit his bottom lip annoyed.

“I don't see how this information is of use to you.” Arthur tried to hide his discontent.

“You are right. Out of curiosity.” Dutch smiled trying to make him relax. “How she ended up here?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “You see… hhm.. she sent me a note about having information of Cornwall.” At those words, Dutch eyed him intensely. “We met in a local tavern and started to drink… quite a lot… we got drunk.” Dutch nodded understanding the situation. “You know… I'm not a good drunk…” Arthur excused himself. “We got involved in a fight and ended up in prison.” He wasn't proud of it, Dutch could felt his guilt in his voice. “This morning… Theo… her husband came to take her out… He… that bastard beat her… I… I couldn't stay still. I had to do something. She is a good woman, she doesn't deserve that!”

“So you beat him up and took his wife, is that it?”

Arthur slowly nodded, to hear it out loud make him realise how stupid he was.

Dutch looked back through the window to see Claire, he found her a beautiful, refined woman. Still, he didn't understand how that young woman of her status would get interested in Arthur or interested in giving him information about Cornwall or how she have information about him anyway. Somethings didn’t make sense for Dutch, he had some unanswered questions stuck in his mind but maybe wasn't the time to ask them.

“She can stay with us.” Finally said Dutch at Arthur's relief. “Let’s just hope Mr Russell won’t be looking for her here.”

***

Claire finished fixing her clothes with the help of Tilly when Arthur stepped in.

“Now, you look beautiful, Mrs Russell.” Tilly smiled at her gently rubbing Claire’s arm to comfort her.

“Call me Claire.” Claire corrected her with a sad smile. She felt strange using her father’s name again, but to use Cornwall’s name was out of the question. If it was for her she would erase both men from her life.

“Of course, Claire.”

Arthur cleared his throat to alert them of his presence. Both women turned around to see him. Claire’s and Arthur’s eyes locked into each other but neither of them said a word. Arthur stare at her being unable to say a word, he liked the clothes Miss Grimshaw gave to Claire, but he was so worried about her and all the situation he brought on to her.

Claire feeling his intense gaze she blushed and looked down. Noticing the blush in her cheeks Arthur scratched the back of his neck and bit his bottom lip nervously looking somewhere else.

Tilly easily caught the tension between the two of them with a smile on her face. Not that every day you saw Arthur Morgan being nervous around a woman.

“You have her ready.” Tilly announced to Arthur with a smirk. She turned to Claire to add: “Don’t worry, Claire, you are in good hands.” Tilly left them alone not before gently bumping to Arthur's shoulder to whisper him to take good care of Claire.

“Now what?” Claire asked trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

“You can stay with us.” Arthur explained to her getting close.

“So, I’m part of the gang?” She chuckled nervously.

Arthur let a deep breath escape his lips. “Claire, I can’t lie to you... We are wanted men…”

“I know… I read in the newspapers about Blackwater, Valentine… I know…” She tried to dismiss him, she didn't want to hear any excuse from him.

“No, Claire, listen to me.” Arthur cupped her face to look straight into her eyes. “Having brought you her’ I…. You might...”

“It’s okay, Arthur.” She raised her fingers to cover his mouth to stop words coming out of it. “I understand... I really do. But...” She deeply sighed, Arthur moved his hands to her shoulders. “I prefer to be here, with you, than in that golden cage with… that bastard. So, no matter what awaits me here, I am staying with you.”

“Damn, girl….” He lowered his head hiding his face from her. Claire couldn’t say what was with him but she felt his hands shaking holding her shoulders.

“Arthur? Are you okay?” she asked concerned.

“Yeah… I guess…” he said more to him than to her. “Come, I'll show you around.”

***

After meeting the gang and spending some time with them the night fell Arthur guided Claire inside the manor to his room up on the first floor.

“I know it's not what you're used to…” Arthur removed his hat closing the door behind them.

“It's okay… really…” Claire looked around her, all the manor was falling apart for nobody took care of it in a long time, Arthur’s room wasn’t an exception. She noticed some pictures on a wall. “Can I?” She asked permission to Arthur to take a closer look.

Arthur nodded and Claire got close to those pictures.

“Oh my, is this you?” Claire pointed to a photo she could easily tell it was Arthur, Hosea and Dutch some years ago. “How old you were here?”

“Don’t remember… 18… maybe?” He rubbed his nose embarrassed. “That’s ma father… he wasn’t a good man.”

“And this I guess your mother?” Claire smiled at Arthur who was flustered by talking about himself. Claire then noticed another picture in a frame, it was of a young beautiful woman. “And she? She is beautiful.”

“That’s an old story…” Arthur took down the picture against the table hiding it.

“Oh, an old sweetheart of yours?” Claire teased him feeling his discomfort.

“Don’t wanna talk about it….” Arthur jaw was visibly tensed and his eyes looked sadder than usually.

Claire understood it was a delicate matter. Maybe a sweetheart he wasn’t over yet. That hurt a little. She sadly smiled and sat down on his mattress.

“So, we are going to share, this?” She raised an eyebrow to him.

“I can sleep on the floor, if you want.”

“Seriously, Mr Morgan?” Claire faked offence. “There is enough room for us. If you hold me tight.” She added with a mischievous smile.

Arthur shook his head, she was hopeless.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x OC #Claire Russell #RDR2 OC #RDR2 fanfic #art post #The Fugitive

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hysterialevi · 5 years

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When the Devil Cries pt. 33

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

O’CREAGH’S RUN

ONE WEEK LATER -- MORNING

Ridin’ up to the snow-covered cabin, Hamish and I stopped just outside the front door as we tugged on our horses’ reins, coming to a complete stop.

The two of us had just returned from quite a lengthy hunt in the wilderness surrounding O’Creagh’s Run, and despite the icy weather, we actually found some pretty decent game out in the woods.

There weren’t many animals roamin’ around at the moment, but Hamish and I managed to catch a big buck we found frolicking through the white mountains. It had enough meat on it to feed us for a few days, and if we was lucky, we’d probably be able to sell the pelt, too. I only wished Eddie had been able to join us.

It was...actually quite fun huntin’ with Hamish. The man spoke to me like I was an old friend, and he always cheered with excitement whenever I agreed to go wandering with him.

It was a nice change of pace, compared to what I was just dealin’ with the week before. It felt like I...finally had someone to fill in Dutch’s shoes after he turned on me. Felt like I wasn’t bearing all this weight on my own.

I just wondered how long it would last. ‘Cause as much as I enjoyed Hamish’s company, the skeptic in me couldn’t help but dread the day it’d all finally come to an end like a rude awakening. Nothin’ perfect lasted forever in this world, after all.

And I doubted Hamish was any exception.

“Well,” Hamish said, dismounting Buell, “that was certainly a good hunt. Who taught you how to track so well?”

I hopped off my horse and walked her to the hitching post, hoisting the plump deer off her back as we both headed inside.

“Learned from my daddy mostly,” I answered, my voice straining with effort. “It’s...one of the few good things he taught me.”

Hamish picked up on my tone. “Your father wasn’t a good role model, I take it?”

A chuckle escaped me. “You could say that. Though, to be honest...I can’t really judge. The sins he got hanged for, I’m still runnin’ away from. Seems like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Well,” Hamish followed me from behind, “you carry that buck inside for me, and I’m willin’ to forgive all of ‘em, hah!”

Trudging back into the cabin, the two of us pushed our way through the thawing snow as the sun climbed higher in the sky, spreadin’ a much-needed heat across this frozen land.

A good chunk of the ice in this area had already melted over the past week or so, and if things continued on like this, I imagined we’d be able to go fishing soon.

It had been a long time since I last ate anything that wasn’t venison or canned vegetables, and the idea of relaxin’ on a boat in the middle of the lake put my mind at ease.

Though, as much as I was basking in this nice weather, I couldn’t deny that I was also worried about how easy it’d be for our enemies to track us down now that the snow was startin’ to disappear.

I mean, even though I sure as hell didn’t miss that god-awful blizzard from last week, it was the only thing that was really covering our tracks.

No one in their right mind woulda followed us through a storm like that, and the fact that it was finally gone, well...let’s just say I found myself keepin’ an eye on the tree line more often than usual nowadays.

I had had enough surprises for one lifetime, and the last thing I wanted was for Atticus or Dutch to come crawlin’ outta nowhere before putting a bullet in our heads.

Right now, my only concerns were helping Hamish, finding food, and keeping Eddie alive...and I intended for it to stay that way.

Lugging the deer into the house as Hamish shut the door behind us, we quickly escaped the chilly breeze as I plopped the carcass down in the kitchen and rolled my shoulders, happy to get that weight off my back.

“Thank you, Mister Morgan.” The veteran said with a smile, proudly admiring our work. “I don’t much like relying on others for help, but...I’m afraid I ain’t as young as I used to be. It’s nice havin’ some muscle around the house for once. Makes things go smoother.”

I returned the smile. “My pleasure. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for us.”

Hamish patted my back. “Well...you did the hunting, so I’ll get this thing ready to eat. Why don’t you go check on Eddie in the meantime? See how he’s doing. I told him not to move around too much before we left, but that boy sure don’t like staying still. Even with an injured leg.” The old man paused. “Say, has he been usin’ that cane I gave him?”

I sighed in frustration. “Not as much as he should be. Eddie only uses the cane when he absolutely needs to. Otherwise, he just tries...walkin’ around on his own.”

Hamish laughed softly at that. “Eddie’s stubborn, just like me when I first lost my leg. Don’t worry, though. He’ll adapt eventually. He’s got no other choice. Just keep an eye on him, all right? I don’t want him puttin’ more pressure on that leg than it can handle.”

“Trust me,” I said with a nod, “I will.”

Walkin’ away from Hamish as he started preparing the deer, I strolled towards the living room and began slipping off my winter coat, only to stop mid-way when I noticed Eddie wasn’t resting on the couch.

“Uh...Hamish?” I called out, raising an eyebrow. “You have any idea where Eddie could be? It don’t look like he’s in the livin’ room.”

The old man picked up a knife, gesturing to the back door. “If he’s not there, he’s probably sittin’ on the back porch.”

I peered through the frosty window. “...In this weather?”

Hamish chuckled. “Like I said, Eddie isn’t one to stay still.”

I let out a tired breath. “...Got that right.”

Reluctantly pullin’ my coat back on, I tightly wrapped my clothes around me and prepared to return to the “lovely” weather outside, gently pushing the back door open.

Luckily, the snow wasn’t nearly as relentless as it had been a couple days ago, and things appeared to have calmed down since that blizzard. But even then, my face was still red and cold from bein’ in the woods all morning.

The only thing I wanted to do right now was throw myself in front of a hot fireplace and enjoy a nice bottle of beer, but...there actually was something important I had to talk to Eddie about. It weren’t nothin’ serious or alarming, but it was probably best if that conversation happened away from Hamish.

Pushin’ the door closed with a soft creak, I searched around the back porch for a moment before spotting Eddie in a wooden chair, his nose buried in what looked like a collection of some music notes.

At the moment, he was scribbling something down in his handful of papers, and the cane Hamish gave to him was peacefully leanin’ against the side of the armrest.

I didn’t know quite how to describe it, but something about Eddie seemed to have...changed over this past week. In a good way. His eyes carried that passionate spark in them once again, and the man appeared to be less stressed, despite us technically bein’ stranded in the middle of nowhere.

To my surprise, it actually seemed like Eddie was pleased to be away from the gang. I mean, yeah, things ended in flames with Dutch -- and Rodrick practically unleashed hell itself onto our camp -- but I still expected the pianist to miss some of the people there.

They were like family to me, after all. John, Hosea, Miss Grimshaw -- they were the siblings and parents I never truly had.

For over twenty years, Dutch’s society had been my entire world, and as a young man...I couldn’t even imagine a life without them.

Eddie, on the other hand...he barely knew any of them. He only had, what, a couple of months to bond with them?

That camp may have been home to me, but to Eddie, it was probably nothin’ more than a place full of unfamiliar faces. And not only that, but a bunch of outlaws, too.

I guessed I really shouldn’t have been surprised that Eddie was more relaxed away from them. He seemed to get along well enough with some of the members, but it was clear to me now that the man was only truly comfortable around me.

I just felt a bit guilty that it took me this long to realize it.

Roamin’ towards the preoccupied man, I stood next to his chair and casually peeked over his shoulder, hoping to get his attention.

“Eddie?” I said innocently, wearing what was probably a horrendous-looking smile.

No answer.

Well, whatever he was workin’ on must’ve been important.

“Eddie?” I repeated, but a bit louder this time.

Pausing mid-action, the pianist held his pen still for a second before jolting his head in my direction, chuckling out of embarrassment once he realized he weren’t alone.

“Oh, Arthur!” he greeted, his expression lightin’ up. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come out here.”

I rested an arm on the back of his chair, pointing to the music notes.

“Whatcha got there? You workin’ on a new song?”

Eddie sighed in a regrettable manner. “Restoring it, more like. The song’s actually been complete for some time now, but the rest of the notes were burned in that fire Rodrick caused. It was supposed to be a gift for you.”

My smile grew even wider at that. “A gift?”

The man nodded. “Yeah. I started writing it when we were still in Shady Belle, but I never got the chance to perform it for you, what with the lack of pianos lazing about in the wilderness.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you can sing it.”

Eddie scoffed in an amused tone. “Me? Sing it? The goal here is for you to like it, Arthur.”

I laughed, pattin’ the man’s shoulder. “Your voice can’t be worse than mine. But...if you really wanna save it for a piano, I won’t protest.”

Changin’ the subject, I stopped leaning on the chair and took a few steps back, eyeballing Eddie’s cane with a curious gaze.

“So, how’s your leg doing? Hamish says you’ve been wanderin’ around quite a bit.”

The man grabbed his cane and laid it on his lap, examining the simple object.

Eddie took a breath. “I won’t lie. It’s...frustrating. I used to be so agile, you know. Even as a child. I was always running around all over the place. Climbing, too. Anything that was above the ground, I’d try to get on top of it. Now, though...”

He pressed his cane against the floor and pushed himself up from the chair, grunting with effort.

“...I can hardly walk on my own two feet. And I’m not even thirty years of age yet.”

I glanced at Eddie’s wounded leg, still feelin’ somewhat guilty that I wasn’t able save it.

“You’re still healing,” I reassured. “Just give your leg a break, and soon, you’ll have nothin’ more than an annoying limp to worry about. At least, that’s what Hamish says.”

“I certainly hope so,” Eddie replied, walking closer to me. “But...enough about me. How’ve you been feeling, Arthur? I imagine you must be hurting after what happened between you and Dutch. I...I know how much you loved him.”

My gaze fell to the floor at that and I bit the inside of my lip, lettin’ my guard down for just a moment.

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice quieter than usual. “It might sound strange...but I still love Dutch, to be honest. Even though he nearly goddamn killed me. I suppose I just ain’t ready to let go of the twenty years we spent together.”

Eddie frowned in a sympathetic way, caressing my cheek. “You don’t have to let go of them. The ending doesn’t make the journey, Arthur. Even though you and Dutch may no longer be on the same side, that doesn’t mean you have to forget all the memories you shared. Just don’t forget how you got here.”

I placed my own hand over Eddie’s, grippin’ it tight. “Oh, I won’t. Believe me.”

Losin’ myself in the other man’s eyes for a minute, I snapped back to reality when I suddenly remembered why I came out here in the first place, causin’ me to reach into my satchel.

“Um -- anyway,” I said, clearing my throat, “that ain’t why I came to see you. There’s actually somethin’ I wanted to give you.”

Eddie smirked. “Oh? You have a gift for me as well?”

I took out a crumpled envelope, fumbling through its contents.

“Yeah. I didn’t tell you this back at Beaver Hollow -- considering everything that was goin’ on -- but I got a letter from Mary Linton. You remember her?”

Eddie thought for a moment. “...The woman you were engaged to?”

I nodded. “That’s the one. She wrote me again recently.”

The pianist peered at the envelope. “Well, what’s it say?”

I breezed through Mary’s message, wantin’ to get straight to the point.

“All she said was, she didn’t wanna be involved with me no more. We met up a few months ago, you see. When the gang was still in New Hanover. I helped her out with a few family problems, and saved her brother, but...now she’s sayin’ she wants to move on. That she can’t stay in contact with me any longer. But -- that ain’t the part that matters.”

Putting the envelope away, I shoved the thing back into my satchel once I found what I was lookin’ for and pulled out a beautiful wedding ring, presenting it to Eddie.

It was surprisingly still in good condition even after all these years, and the small jewel adorning the simple band twinkled softly in the winter sun, catching Eddie’s attention.

“It’s...it’s the same ring I used to propose to Mary all them years ago,” I explained, my voice low with regret. “I never expected to see it again after...well, after Mary left. But she returned it with that letter, and told me to give it to people who were in love. People who could use it.” I sighed out of despondency, unable to take my eyes off the piece of jewelry.

“I used to hate lookin’ at this thing, y’know. It...always reminded me of everything I’ve lost. Everything I’ve messed up in life. Hell, I nearly threw it off the cliff when Mary gave it back to me.” I brought my gaze to Eddie, my heart liftin’ upon seeing his face. “But now...it only reminds me of what I’ve gained. It makes me realize that, as confusing and difficult as love can be sometimes, it ain’t impossible. ...And that’s why I want you to have it.”

Smiling in awe at what I was saying, Eddie found himself to be at a loss for words as he gently brought the ring into his grasp, staring affectionately at the gift.

It looked like the man was on the verge of tears, and I could tell he was doin’ everything in his power to remain composure, but even then, it was clear that the pianist was touched.

He let out a shaky but happy breath, strugglin’ to find the right words to say.

“...Thank you, Arthur,” Eddie said sincerely, returning his glossy eyes to me. “It’s truly wonderful.”

I grinned warmly at the reaction, blushing slightly under the shadow of my hat.

“I’m glad you like it. I-I know we can’t actually get married, or have a proper wedding or anything, but I still want you to keep it. It belongs with you.”

Eddie closed his hand around the ring, holding it securely. “I won’t let anything happen to it. I promise.”

Placing his hands on the sides of my face, the pianist pulled me into a loving kiss and practically let himself fall into my arms, the two of us holdin’ each other in the middle of the snow.

I couldn’t believe what was happening right now.

After so many years of losing every person I’d grown attached to, and failin’ the majority of my relationships, I never imagined I’d find someone who loved me as much as I loved them.

It was one hell of a ride Eddie and I had been on these past couple o’ months, but no matter how wildly this mess ended or how hard we’d have to fight, I was gonna do whatever it took to keep him alive.

We were so close to finding our freedom now. I could feel it.

We just had to carry on a little longer, and someday, I knew Eddie and I were gonna live the lives we had sacrificed so much to achieve.

The only thing that stood between us and our goal right now...was Atticus Rose.

And there was no way in hell I was gonna let him stop us.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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norafike · 3 years

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Despite all this, I still love you 26

“Got anythin' coming up, Nora?” Cripps lurked outside the tent with a small smile, he could see her through the crack in the tent, lying on her cot and sulking the hours away just as she had done these past few days. “Any jobs or such?”

“No.”

“Well, surely there is something you can do… why not help your brothers out on a job?” It was a simple suggestion but the thought alone caused her to groan loudly, it wasn't that a job scared her but working with her brothers was a nightmare.

Nora pushed herself from the cot, pulled the tent flaps aside and gave Cripps a stern glare. “I don't know if you've met Harry an' James, but working with them is stressful.”

“I know but it gives you something to do… but you look awful.”

“Point out the obvious, I feel awful so please let me be.” She tried to close the tent flaps again to shield herself away from the others but Cripps wouldn't let her this time and held it open, just to keep talking.

“You got to do something to keep occupied, Nora.” He tried pleading but this was only another excuse to keep her from moping about camp and bothering him.

“I'm keepin' myself occupied plenty.” She said, rather bluntly.

“How the hell are you keeping occupied while holed up in here? There's not a lot to do.” His question was simple but it caused Nora's face to turn a shade of red and when she failed to come up with a response he realised just what she implied. “Oh, I really didn't want that image.”

“You asked.”

“Not that, oh christ… look, for that alone I want you to help them with a bounty for my sake, please.”

“Shouldn't have asked questions, JB.” She let out a long sigh. “Just give me a minute and I'll go with them. Make sure they don't leave without me.”

“Thank god.” Cripps trotted off with a gleeful expression and she rolled her eyes at his mock joy before concealing herself in the tent to get dressed in cleaner clothes in private.

...

“She still has that bounty huntin' passion, I see!” Harry exclaimed once he saw her exit her tent, dressed in the same old clothes she would used to wear on their old jobs. She grinned all the same, firmly patting Casper's neck.

“So who we going after boys?” James dug into his satchel and pulled free a poster he had taken from a bounty board, handing it over for her to analyse herself. She narrowed her eyes to read the print and drew out a shuddered breath, oh she had heard this name before.

“Gene again?” James nodded to answer her question.

“We turned in him last year, how did he get out?” Nora continued her questions but the boys didn't mind and they were all able to talk while riding. She followed behind them, they knew the way to this outlaws new location better than she did.

“Apparently some friends thought it'd be a good idea to cut him loose. Killed about half the lawmen in town unfortunately and he got away, couldn't stay low for too long and already started the same old crimes once again. Wasn't long before we caught up with him.”

“They never learn.”

“Yes well, we ain't ones to judge them on their criminal ways.”

Nora laughed lightly. “Oh, I know this, brother.” With that said they rode out in comfortable silence, picking up speed on their adventure to get to this new spot quicker than what a small trot would take them.

Gene Finley never did travel far from Lemoyne it seemed and given that the Van Der Linde gang were now occupying Shady Belle it wasn't like he could drive them out and take it back himself, no, that would get him killed for sure. So instead he settled for the next best thing, what had been left of Braithwaite manor; now reduced to an ashy ruin.

Nora expected there to be some people left but the place was practically abandoned now that there was no Braithwaite's to be left, it didn't surprise her in the slightest and was almost nice to see the area empty instead of infested with those same parasites that lurked there before. Oh, how she hated the Braithwaite's since her run-in with them.

“Can't believe he chose that old shit dump as a new gang location. The place ain't gonna help 'em.”

“It's smart because ain't nobody there no more.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true.” She spurred for Casper to go faster and she ended up taking over Harry who let out a splutter of curses that he was now trailing behind.

...

Nora's Hungarian halfbred stopped just short of Braithwaite manor, bucking wildly now that they were so close to the ruins of the old house. Nora struggled to dismount but she didn't wish to be thrown off of the horse because it had been spooked by unknown forces, perhaps the ghosts of the Braithwaite's were what had Casper in such a frenzy.

“Ain't never seen Casper so startled,” James called out, hitching his horse just near with Harry copying soon after. She nodded too, it being quite peculiar for the beloved stallion to act up in such away.

“He'll be fine. Probably got startled by a snake.” She excused on his behalf before passing him an apple, cautiously reaching for his mouth. Her brothers watched with a smirk painted on their faces but they dropped it slowly as Nora managed to calm the animal, both sharing an astonished expression at how in control of her animal they didn't believe she actually was. “Right, let's go grab Gene "Beau" Finley, shall we?”

...

Nora crouched down behind one of the old pillars that decorated the exterior of the house, keeping her rifle ready while she watched some guards, as she presumed them to be, march back and forth the ruins. A couple of times Nora, as well as her brothers, were close to being caught but they managed to hide themselves just enough to not be seen.

“Harry.” She whisper-shouted to call him and he crept closer just as instructed.

“What?”

She pointed towards her left, giving him a firm stare. “You and James head that way, Gene's down there if you notice… we can cut him off from those sides, he can't go anywhere else from there.”

“Well, he can go West but whatever.”

“Into the fields. There's not a lot there beside a few crops. A lot of it's died out by now, not been looked after since, well, this assault on the manor.”

“Yeah.” He pulled his sawed-off shotgun from its holster and with a subtle flick, beckoned James to come over. He whispered to his brother a “come on,” before disappearing with him behind the rubble.

She pushed herself off of the pillar and followed along the porch, cursing silently when the boards would occasionally creak beneath her weight. Eventually, Nora had managed to move closer towards the bounty in question and quickly hid behind one of the walls and listened closely for any plans the group may have coming up; in case the opportunity for a bank robbery was to present itself then maybe she could drag the boys out on that too.

On the other end of the garden, Harry and James had split up to cover different parts around the land feeling that sticking together wasn't going to be beneficial in any way. Their sister probably wouldn't be happy with this branch from their original plan but that was an argument saved for later, their new one was significantly better.

They waited for no signal, once everyone was in their eyesight they aimed their guns and began shooting. Careful to avoid their target as they fancied being paid in full but also showing no mercy for anyone else who had associated themselves with Gene, it was strictly business what they were doing.

Nora swore loudly at the bullets flying around. In the moment she was worried about her brothers and poked her head just above the wall in time to see Harry and that stupid yellow coat run straight into the group so he could grab the bounty and in a short time, James trailed behind him providing cover fire. She sank back down and leaned her head back, wondering what possessed her to think this was a good idea. Nora worried but at the same time, she was pissed.

“You boys are so reckless, aye!” Nora cried as she jumped from her hiding spot, taking her revolver from the holster and aiming from the hip at some men who ran past.

“Testin' you to see if you still had what it takes to fight,” Harry called back, tackling a guard to the ground and punching him a couple of times to save him from being shot.

She rolled her eyes at the reply before shouting back “I do, it's called common sense,” something that he didn't look too pleased with hearing.

“Really funny.” He said back. She looked his way with a smile but it dropped when she saw him collapse to the floor with blood staining the bright yellow of his coat, she looked back at James worried who hadn't even noticed his own twin fall to the floor.

“Focus on Harry, I can handle the rest of them!” James called out and quickly she rushed to her brothers' side, already fearing the worst.

He was rolling around in agony but was very much alive and that was relief enough that she hadn't lost her younger brother. She gently slapped his other arm and scolded him for his recklessness before helping to move him to a safer location where he wasn't lying directly in their small battlefield.

“He's alive... but I swear I'm gonna kill him.” She told James who looked over-worried.

One guy was left but seeing as all the other hired bodyguards had been killed he opted for the best alternative and that was to flee the scene. He didn't make it very far, as Nora was tired of fighting today and wanted them all down to guarantee that they could return Gene to his cell, so she raised her gun and fired a bullet into his back and then another to make sure.

Gene "Beau" Finley coward in the remains of Braithwaite manor but slowly crept out towards the siblings, his hands raised high in defense. He would still laugh at the same time, impressed with how effortlessly it seemed they had dealt with the situation but there was no joke behind it.

“You three are good.” He complimented. Nora shot James a look and he nodded at the silent instruction, taking his lasso out and hogtying the bounty without a second thought.

Nora walked over to her other brother and took his arm over her shoulders, pulling him to his feet. He groaned at the pain that flared up and she made a small comment about understanding it, feeling almost sorry for him as she did so but he didn't hear what she said. “James., Nora called.

“What?”

“Think you can take Gene to Rhodes? I think Harry shouldn't dawdle around much longer.” James nodded to answer as he carried the target over towards his horse and when he was gone she turned towards Harry with a frown.

“This is what happens when you do things with no plan, Harold.” She said calmly. Her brother mumbled something but she didn't hear what he had said, knowing him though it was probably some sarcastic remark about how her plan was stupid anyway.

She whistled for Casper and he did the same for his Annabelle.

When the horses were near she helped Harry onto the rump of Casper before she mounted the horse herself. He still seemed very agitated by being at Braithwaite manor but it took a few firm pats and he had calmed some, now she just needed to get him far from the ruins.

...

“Cripps!” Nora shouted, her voice sounding a little shaky while she did so. It took him a minute but he sauntered on over with a sheepish smile plastered on his face. It dropped however, when he noticed the state her brother had returned in.

“What the hell happened?” His question was worthless, he could see as clear as day what had happened and there weren't any other explanations otherwise.

“Jus' help me get him to his tent.” She mumbled and he nodded slowly, helping him off of the horse and onto his feet. He didn't wait for Nora and was more adamant about getting him to the cot to take a look at the damage, assess just how bad it could be.

“Think you got this, Cripps?” She asked him once she made it to Harry's tent.

Cripps nodded slowly as he had him peel away the bloodied coat and shirt. “Yeah, ain't nothing too serious luckily.”

“Well, let's hope it teaches you a lesson Harold.” She said, although it was more of a joke than a warning.

With the sun setting and the tent getting darker, Cripps lit a lantern so he could see better while he worked on bandaging the wound and once she was certain that her brother was left in safe hands she left them to themselves.

Her tent was farther away and while she got closer she could hear the idle chatter from the two fade out until it was nothing but a dull murmur in the distance.

She pulled the flap aside so she could walk in but stopped herself when she heard a rustle in the bushes nearby. She thought it was an animal and so waited, expecting a fox or a bunny to jump out and attempt to help itself to the group's food… but the more the rustling got closer the more a shape could be made out amidst the shadows and trees and it was far too big to belong to a small woodland creature.

It groaned with every step taken and she pulled her revolver free from the holster, raising it with caution while this shape moved closer towards her.

Nora took a few steps back while it drew closer and she aimed her gun with a steady hand, ready to shoot if need be. Eventually, the shape stepped into the light and she could see the bloody remains of a man who was just barely alive, grasping onto his breath with what he had left.

She took in his face and the recognition kicked in, from the same scared look and “puppy dog eyes”. There was no greeting between them before his legs gave way and he collapsed forward, but she was able to react just in time and catch him before he hit the floor.

She picked him up as best as he could, cursing out loud with the question of where James could be to help them.

She got him stable before looking back over towards the boy's tents, shouting over the quiet. “Cripps…! Cripps, it's Kieran!”

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