Main Characters: John Marston, Micah Bell, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Kieran O'Driscoll, Sadie Adler
Minor Characters: Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, Abigail Roberts, Jack Marston
CW: MICAH, Period Typical Violence, Sexism, Racism, mentions of: Domestic Violence, SA, Assault, Abuse, Dubious Consent, Choking, Bruising, Ejaculation
Summary: Dutch learns of Arthur's search and needs to make a decision. Micah inadvertently gives John important intel.
Author's Note: Hi! Welcome to my series that I love writing but apparently have no time to write! Would have posted this already but while I was editing the post my phone died and Tumblr didn't save the draft 😢 Life sure does seem to have plans that it definitely didn't run by us before making! I know their is no reader or Arthur in this but I promise, they are in the second half! Almost completed second half so stay tuned folks! Thank you everyone for your patience and support 🖤
Note: The personalities of the gang members are written as what I consider their 'true' selves to be closest to. Therefore, it may not fit the Horseshoe Overlook version of a character. (P.S. Warning! Warning! Dutch Van Der Linde sympathizer! My true version of Dutch is a still somewhat unhinged, dramatic, narcissistic man, who does love and care about the people around him but is sometimes unable to show this, and is mostly kept in check by his moral compass, Hosea. I won't argue about in game Dutch, you can choose to believe whatever version of him you want! Please do not tell me something like, "Dutch would never say that," because quite frankly, I don't give a damn. I allow and encourage discussion but not rudeness, and will remove any purposely hateful comments. This is a safe space and I would like to keep it that way. I'm not saying this thinking that people will do it, I'm only saying it just in case.🖤 Graphics are my own except red lace divider by @uzmacchiato
Thank you to @photo1030 and @shininqstr for your comments ❤️❤️❤️ they helped me keep going 🖤
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 1/2 | Part 3 2/2 | Part 4 2/2 (coming soon!)
Whumpril Arthur x Reader Series Master Post
Nine days earlier...
John and Javier made it back to the camp just at dusk. They'd talked very little on the way back, just pushing the horses to get home as quickly as they could, both craving a hot meal and rest after the unplanned tracking they'd gone on. They could both feel the tension in the air between them. Going back to camp without Arthur? It wasn't like they finished a job and went separate ways. They were going back to safety and he was looking for an enemy. It didn't feel right.
Dutch made his way over as they arrived, the men hitching their horses and walking into camp from the corral. Their shoulders were aching and slumped with tiredness from having been on a job the day before, a night of drinking, and then immediately leaving to help Arthur on his search.
“Arthur still out lookin’?” Dutch asked, his voice uncharacteristically tense.
“Yeah. He's bein’ stubborn ‘bout it. Said he's headed into Valentine to see if he can get any information from the folk in town.” John shook his head as he spoke. “Ain't like him, Dutch. I know he's doin’ what he thinks is right, but it ain't like him to chase a cold lead…”
No, it wasn't like Arthur to do that. Normally he was the one who talked others out of it. But… from what Lenny managed to say when they'd gotten back last night, Arthur seemed different with this woman…
“Dutch, he gave her one of them silver certificates we'd gotten on the last robbery? The one we found in that big safe? I think it was a five dollar one… Not my idea of a casual tip…”
“‘M tellin’ ya, Lenny! It's fookin’ love, it is! Our Art’ur’s sweet on the lass, no doubt in me mind–” slurred Sean a little. He was still quite drunk, hence why he and Lenny hadn't gone with the other three. He leaned onto Lenny, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for support. “And she– oh ho ho– she– she's sweet on ‘im, too. Did ya see the way she touched ‘im? Put her hand on ‘is shoulder, like she was familiar wit’ him! Familiar! Wit’ our Art’ur! ‘Magine that!”
Lenny sighed while Dutch pinched the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache from the whole situation.
“And, you two are sure this was O'Driscoll work? Sean ain't just making that up?”
Sean scoffed, taking apparent offense to the comment.
“When ‘ave I ever lied, Dutch?”
Dutch raised his eyebrows, about to tell Sean exactly the last time he'd lied about something, but Lenny shook his head and spoke before he could.
“No, Dutch, we’re sure. It's O’Driscolls.”
Dutch crossed his arms over this chest and let a sigh out through his nose.
“Alright, Lenny, make sure Sean gets into his bedroll before he passes out; You get some sleep, too. Been a long night for all of us, even before all this mess.”
“Javier? What do you think?” Dutch asked after milling on the thought for a while.
Javier took a moment to look around camp, collecting his own thoughts before shrugging.
“Eh, I’m not too sure, jefe… I think he knows what he's doing. He's stubborn, but he isn't stupid.”
“You think he's got enough to go on to get a lead? Or is this some... wild goose chase?” he asked, gesturing with his hands.
“That depends. Most people, I'd say no. But, it's Arthur. If anyone could figure it out… it'd be him. He at least won’t give up until he can't go anymore.”
“Well, Dutch? You think we should be settin’ up a scoutin’ party," Hosea asked as he took a drag off his cigarette before flicking the last of it into the small yet still crackling fire, “or should we be settin’ up for war?”
Dutch shook his head, his mind running circles but his face revealing nothing. Hosea could see it though. He could read the eyes of the man nobody else seemed able to read.
The past few days had taken a toll on Dutch. It wasn't so much that Arthur was out by himself. That was normal. The man went off on his own all the time, sometimes without so much as a grunt and a nod. But to be hunting O'Driscolls just to find a woman he barely knew? And hunting Colm, in specific. It worried him.
Together? Arthur, Dutch, Hosea, John… and any of the rest of the gang? They were fearless. Alone? Dutch worried that alone, Arthur may just be a man.
“I don't know, Hosea. I don't know… I think we'll have to wait and see how Arthur handles it on his own, first. Then we’ll decide.”
“You ain't thinkin’ about goin’ after Colm, too, are you?” Hosea asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
Dutch thought on it for a moment, taking a swig of whiskey.
“Maybe.”
“That wise?”
Dutch just looked at Hosea, not saying anything.
“I know it's personal with you and Colm. But… this woman… We don't know her, or anything about her. Arthur barely knows her himself. And she ain't Annabelle–”
“It isn't about that, Hosea!” Dutch snapped, interrupting him. He clenched his jaw tight, looking away and letting out a deep, controlled breath. He knew Hosea was right, his own pride and want for revenge against Colm was involved here. But it wasn't just that.
Although Dutch never admitted it to anyone but Hosea, he was sorry. Not that he had brought Arthur into the life of living as an outlaw, or that Arthur was loyal to the gang. He wanted that loyalty, that strong tether to him and to them. But, he knew loyalty had cost them all.
He was sorry that the gang had taken Arthur's opportunity to be with Mary, simply due to the nature of their differing lives. Even if he didn't personally like the woman, Arthur had found something in her.
He was sorry that Arthur had already lost his son, and his son's mother, with no opportunity to have prevented it in the first place. No opportunity for justice, either.
Arthur's loyalty had cost him more than Dutch had ever intended. Such was the way of the outlaw, he knew that. Arthur knew that. But, he never had a choice.
That's just this life, Dutch told himself. Over and over again, it's what he told himself. And he believed it, too… most days.
But, he didn't want to abandon Arthur.
“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, old friend. But… this ain't about that. Arthur is family. He has always stood next to me, to us; We will stand behind him. Beside him. Whatever he chooses.”
Hosea nodded once, slow. He knew the thoughts that bounced around inside Dutch’s head better than anyone else. He knew that it was, in part, about that, about Colm and the long standing feud between Van Der Linde and O’Driscoll. But, he chose to have faith that this time, maybe it wasn't all about his appetite for vengeance. This time, maybe it was also about standing by a man that they had raised, and defending his choices, and those he chose to protect.
Dutch knew he and Arthur were different. And things were different with Annabelle than they are with this random stranger Arthur met in a little livestock town. But, he also knew the kind of man Arthur Morgan was. Much like himself, they could say revenge was a fool’s game. Because it was. But that wouldn't stop them from trying to seek it.
Over the coming days, the camp was filled with unspoken worry. The gossip, however, was spoken more than enough. Arthur, going after O'Driscoll's by himself? It was one thing to run into a group of them when someone was off on their own. It was another to go looking for a whole O’Driscoll camp alone. It was one thing to find some lady in need of help by the side of the road and help her. It was another to go looking for one that hadn't asked for help.
“He's been gone an awfully long time, Dutch. Over a week now. Without any word. I just… think we oughta send someone to go check on him…” Hosea said, more than worried since it had been a long time since John and Javier returned, and Arthur had still not.
"I fear that you may be right… I was hoping he would have returned by now, but, since that is not the case… we should send someone. I'll send Charles, maybe someone with him, too.”
It had actually been nine days. Nine days that Arthur hadn't come back. Tomorrow would mark the tenth. It was putting everyone on edge. The protector, gone from camp on a search that nobody was sure about.
Sadie was nearby, waiting to see if Dutch was going to do anything about this whole mess. If he didn't, she was gonna go look herself. O'Driscolls? She would fight them in a heartbeat.
She quickly jumped at the opportunity.
“I'll go, Dutch. Was gonna go by myself, anyhow.”
“No,” Dutch started, “not you.”
Sadie’s jaw dropped, and then defiant anger spread across her face.
“What the hell, Dutch! I'm just as good as any man here, you know that! Let me go, I want to!”
“No. Mrs. Adler, it ain’t–”
“Ain’t what?” she challenged, cutting him off. “Ain't safe? Ain't a woman's job?”
“No, Mrs. Adler–”
Sadie cut him off again, getting progressively more and more worked up as she spoke.
“You think I ain't strong enough? Ain't smart enough? Ain't a good enough shot? Is that it?”
“It really isn't that, it’s–”
“What? I can handle it! I've proven myself! I already shot and killed O’Driscolls, and I'll kill more, too. You can't ban me from a job just because you think I'm–”
“MRS. ADLER!” Dutch boomed above Sadie's own raised voice, making her finally stop talking to listen. He waited until he was sure she wouldn't interrupt him before speaking. “I am not keeping you from a job because you are a woman. I am doing it because we need someone who will bring Arthur back, not somebody who will only encourage him to look further. If the woman is gone, she's gone. There's nothing we can do about that. And we need him back.”
The whole camp had fallen quiet, now staring at the two of them. Sadie's own mouth was set into a firm line, but her eyes were wide with surprise, her cheeks red from being worked up and from being embarrassed, having been yelled at by Dutch in front of everyone. Normally she would have just stormed off. She wouldn't take his shit. But this time hit different...
“If you want to prove yourself? Continue proving yourself? You will stay here. You will help us at camp. For now.” Dutch watched her with a fixed look, making himself clear.
“I ain't doin’ anymore goddamn chores,” Sadie huffed, putting her hands on her hips defiantly.
“Good. You can go on guard duty. Go tell Bill he's relieved from it for now.”
Her face twisted up. She didn't want to do that, either. She wanted to go help Arthur track down the O’Driscolls. It was her first opportunity to possibly find the ones who murdered her husband. She wanted to do something other than standing around camp all day, listening to people talk.
She turned on her heel and stormed off. Everyone watched as she went into the treeline. There was a little bit of noise from that direction, Bill's voice and then her own, yelling, angry. Then a loud “OW! What the hell has gotten into you, woman?” More yelling. Finally, they watched as Bill emerged from the treeline, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, looking disgruntled as he headed towards the campfire.
“That woman's got a stick up her ass ‘bout somethin’…” he muttered, shaking his head and sitting down.
John just stared at him from across the fire. Charles, glanced up from sharpening his hunting knife.
“What?" asked Bill after John stared for a moment. “She punched me. For no good reason, neither.”
After that, Dutch decided to only send one man out, for now, not wanting to take too many of them away from the camp.
Charles rode out that evening, just as dusk hit, hoping to avoid attention by traveling the trail at night, and to start on tracking as soon as he got into West Elizabeth the next morning. He knew Arthur likely wouldn't be just hanging around Strawberry any longer, and he would need to pick up his trail to find him.
A few hours after Charles left, Micah rode back in. He'd been out a couple of days, stating he had ‘business’ to attend to. Whatever that meant. Nobody really questioned it when it came to Micah. Nobody really wanted to know.
When he rode in, he smelled of liquor and body odor. He'd been out longer than expected, twice as long as he said he'd be.
He dismounted Baylock and threw the reins at Kieran, who was feeding the horses.
“O’Driscoll! Horse needs lookin’ after,” he grunted, not even looking at Kieran.
Kieran, as much as he would like to ignore him, listened and took Baylock to the hitching posts. It wasn't the horse’s fault that his owner was an asshole.
“Ain't an O’Driscoll…” he muttered, though Micah didn't pay him any mind.
As Kieran began taking the saddle and tack off of Baylock, Micah, with a shit-eating grin, slowly sauntered over to Dutch, who was already walking towards him with a hard expression on his face.
“Micah. Where have you been?” Dutch asked, his voice stern.
“Awh, Dutch. Whadd’ya mean?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Just had a little thing to take care of. I told you ‘bout it, didn't I?”
Dutch's look didn't change, only sharpened.
“You should have been back to camp two days ago. With Arthur gone, you can't just stay out like that. We need you here, Micah.”
Micah’s grin faltered and he hooked his hands into his belt loops. He could see Dutch wasn't in quite so good of a mood as he was, and he knew he had been out longer than he initially said he would be.
“Right. I got… distracted.” Even he wasn't fool enough to keep poking at Dutch when he was in this kind of mood. “Won't happen again.”
“And? You still haven't told me where you were the last two days.”
Micah’s smile returned, his yellowed teeth making him look even more slimy than he already did.
“I was with a woman.”
John scoffed from his place by the fire. Micah looked sharply back at him but then turned again to Dutch.
“Got holed up an entire night with some pretty thing, then I took her home the next day. Boy, the sounds that girl made–”
“Alright, alright! That's enough. You don't need to go into details, now,” Dutch interrupted before he could continue, shaking his head in exasperation. “Just… make sure you ain't leavin’ camp that long again.”
“Sure, Dutch.”
With that, Micah walked over to the fire, sitting on a log and stretching out his legs, leaning back with his hands behind his head.
John kept his head down as he whittled a piece of wood. Bill and Javier were there, too, Bill nursing a bottle of whiskey and Javier strumming idly on his guitar just to pass the time.
“Where's the Chief?” Micah asked.
“Dutch sent him to go find Arthur,” answered Javier.
“Oh. Right. The prodigal son hasn't returned yet?" he asked sarcastically.
Nobody answered, a response wasn't really needed for the question. Micah knew he wasn't back yet.
“Dutch sent the Chief to chase the Cowpoke to chase the Skirt. Ain't that just poetic?” he said mockingly.
John stopped whittling and looked at Micah.
“Why you gotta have a problem with everything, Micah? Why do you care who Dutch sent?” asked John.
“Well, he could'a sent me. I was down that way myself, anyway… but whatever. Ain't my place to do the decision makin’.”
“No. It ain't. So maybe you should just shut your mouth ‘bout it,” John replied before going back to whittling. Truth be told, he wished he was going to find him. He knew Charles was a better tracker, but he wanted to be there for Arthur, even if he hated to admit it.
“The ‘Great Arthur Morgan’ chasing a skirt. Real shame that is, him goin’ soft on us. I wouldn't be caught dead chasin’ after some woman… Nope… they chase after me.”
“Maybe if they have a knife in their hand…” muttered John.
Javier and Bill both snickered as Micah scowled. But then he just smiled again, yellow teeth and all.
“Right. Because you're such an expert on what women want, Marston? How long has it been since you got any?” He waited but John just kept his head down, continuing to whittle away at a piece of wood, his movements sharper, not actually making anything, just using it to keep his hands occupied. “S’what I thought.”
After a moment of tense silence, where John thought Micah would finally shut up, but no. Bill had to go and start him up again.
“You really get a girl, or you just pullin’ our leg, Bell?” Bill grunted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
Micah looked over at him slowly.
“I ain't pullin’ your leg, Williamson. Cross my heart.” He exaggeratedly made a cross over the center of his chest.
"How much did you pay for her?" Javier asked dryly.
John snorted at the comment, but Bill didn't bother holding back a full laugh. Micah seemed unphased though.
“Nothin’,” he answered, his grin only growing. “Didn't pay a penny.”
“Bull-shit,” Bill said, looking at Micah again, skeptically. “You didn't get no woman ‘less you bought her.”
“Hell, I ain't gotta pay for no whore, Williamson,” Micah scoffed.
John stopped whittling, unable to hold back again.
“Sure you ain't, and Uncle's the mayor of Saint Denis,” he responded. “Nobody wants to sleep with you, Bell. I seen cheap whores turn ya’ down when you were tryin’ to throw all your money at ‘em.”
“Yeah, Bell. I ain't ever seen a woman wantin' to sleep with you, money or no money,” Bill chimed in. “If you're serious, what’d she look like, then? Bet she was one o’ them poxed out whores.”
"That's where you're wrong, Williamson. She was cute. Blonde, real short. A bit thin for my likin' but had a real nice set on her."
John rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck like that. Jesus Christ...
"Had some ugly bruises from whatever feller had his hands on her ‘fore me," Micah continued. "I didn't mind though, the ones ‘round her neck were fresh enough they hadn't turned that ugly yellah color they get…She was all over me, blubberin' on like a mess… only thing I paid her was charm and compliments."
"Of course." John muttered under his breath, "Micah takin' advantage of a cryin', beaten woman? Sounds about right…” His lip curling in contempt at the blatant cruelty.
“What? You think you're better than me, Marston? You ain't. You'd be doin’ the same as me in that situation.”
John finally looked directly at Micah, incredulous at the claim.
“The hell I would! Some of us don't see women as things to break just because they're down.”
“You speak of women like they are carcasses for the vultures, Micah.” Javier spit on the ground in disgust. “It is pathetic.”
Bill was quiet now, taking a longer pull from his whiskey and finding the dirt under his fingernails very interesting all of the sudden.
John and Javier both looked disgusted by Micah's nonchalance. It didn't surprise them, but that didn't mean they didn't care. They might be bad men, but neither of them agreed with that kind of treatment of an innocent woman.
Micah, however, was ignoring them and just continuing to talk.
“Won't ever forget that one's name either, on account of the pearl necklace I gave her once I was done. Looked real pretty against them purple bruises.” He started chuckling at his own joke, but he was the only one laughing. “Pearl… said she just had a row with her man and was lookin' to get away. And ol’ Micah swept on in and saved the lady's day…”
Javier and John froze as they heard him say the woman’s name.
Pearl.
The one who took the woman at the saloon that Arthur was out searching for.
“Saved the day... Saved the day? Are you kiddin’ me, Micah? That's what you call takin’ advantage of a woman who almost got killed by her man?” John said, raising his voice in anger. “You hear who she runs with? Wouldn't happen to be O’Driscolls, would it?"
“How the hell should I know? I wasn't askin’ personal questions."
“You said you took her home… where did you take her?”
"Why, you gonna go lookin' for her? Get you a piece of her, too? Abigail really ain't givin’ you none, is she?” Micah jeered, clearly enjoying getting Micah riled up.
John stood in an instant, and was in front of Micah, pulling him up by the collar, too quick for Micah to react.
“Micah. I swear to God, you say anything else about Abigail and I will cut your tongue out and feed it to you.”
John dropped him, letting him fall back onto the log seat harshly, almost causing him to fall off of the back of it.
Micah sat there looking shocked for a moment, until he started laughing.
“Jesus Christ– Oh, I sure did get your tail feathers ruffled, Marston!”
John just stood over him, fuming.
“Where, Bell?”
Micah's laughter slowly died as he realized John was serious. He let out a sharp, impatient huff.
"Oh, Christ Marston… I don't know… real close to…some fort somethin' or other, south a little ways of Strawberry. She didn't want me to leave her right there though, had me let her off before we got there.”
John looked at Javier, who was already standing, thinking the same thing as him.
“You think that's her, hermano?”
John gave a single, sharp nod.
“Gotta be. How many Pearls you think there'd be fittin’ that description?”
“Likely not as many as I left on that girl's–!”
Micah's vulgar comment was cut off by a swift, sharp kick to the shin from John.
“Ow! Hey, watch it, Marston!”
“Watch yourself, you goddamn idiot! If Colm finds out you were with his woman, you just put a target on all our backs, and hers! Dutch and Colm are already part of this blood feud, and you just made it worse.”
Micah’s face dropped, realizing what he had just done.
“Well, shit… how was I supposed to know that was Colm’s woman?’
“You better not have let her know where our camp was, Bell, or you’ll be the one to explain to Dutch why we’re movin’ camp again.”
“I didn’t! She don’t know anything ‘bout where we’re at, I ain't stupid,” Micah claimed.
“One small goddamn mercy…” muttered John, now walking toward the horses where Kieran was still at.
Javier went the opposite way, to Dutch's tent.
"Kieran! Hey, kid!" John called out.
Kieran, who was still brushing down Baylock, practically jumped at John calling his name, almost dropping the brush in his hand.
"Y-yes, sir? What's goin' on? I swear I didn't do nothin’..." he said as he fumbled with his hands.
"You know a Fort South o' Strawberry? That the O'Driscolls use?"
Kieran’s face became solemn at the mention of the O'Driscolls, and he nodded sharply.
“Yeah, they got Fort Riggs. Been usin’ it for a hideout for years. They hadn’t been there for a while when I was with them, but there’s a chance they could be back down there…”
“And you know exactly where it is?” John asked with more urgency.
“Yes, sir, I do know the way…”
He was hesitant, wanting to stay away from O’Driscolls at all costs. But, he also wanted to prove his loyalty to the gang since they were beginning to trust him more.
“Alright. Get the horses ready. I’m gonna go tell Dutch we’re ridin’ out.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
John barely heard him, already sprinting to Dutch’s tent.
Javier was inside, relaying the information about Pearl and the O’Driscolls’ potential location to Dutch and Hosea.
“You’re sure it’s the same woman? We can’t afford to go chasing a false lead.”
“It is, it must be. He says it is supposedly a fort, south of Strawberry, that he let her off near,” explained Javier hurriedly.
“Fort Riggs, Dutch. Kieran knows where it is. Said it’s one of their old hideouts, ain’t been used in a while. It’s more’n likely where they’re holed up, now,” said John.
Dutch’s eyes grew wider as he looked between the two men.
“Fort Riggs… Yes, I do think I’ve heard of that…”
“Kieran knows where it is, he’s gonna show us to it. He’s gettin’ the horses ready now.”
Dutch nodded, standing abruptly and beginning to pace.
John knew that look he had. His mind was working to come up with something.
“Alright…” He paced a few more times back and forth before abruptly stopping and clapping his hands together. “Alright!”
Dutch stepped outside the tent, looking around the camp. Everyone had already heard the commotion of John and Kieran, Javier and Dutch, speaking about the newfound revelation, and were mostly gathered around his tent to see what was happening.
Dutch had a plan.
“Everyone! We have information on the potential whereabouts of the O’Driscoll gang, and hopefully it will lead us to Arthur, and, godwilling, the woman he has been searching for. I need you all to be vigilant in keeping the camp safe while we are gone, and prepared for our return. I do not know if we will encounter one O’Driscoll, or fifty of them, or none at all. But so long as Arthur is out there, we will be bringing him and that woman home.’’
He didn’t wait for the gang’s response, already moving into action.
“Hosea, you are in charge until our return, of course. Make sure there are medical supplies ready upon our arrival. If we have the woman with us, I am... unsure of what state she will be in.”
Kieran had managed to get his own horse ready, as well as John’s, Javier’s, and Dutch’s, so when Dutch approached him to mount The Count, he was already handing him the reins.
“You know where this fort is, you said?”
Kieran gulped his voice was earnest as he spoke.
“Y-yes, sir. Been there loads of times.”
“Good. Once we cross the river into West Elizabeth you will lead us there. We can't waste any time looking for Arthur right now, and he may be there as it is.”
Sadie swung up into her own saddle, having gotten her horse ready by herself. She saw Dutch watch her, her eyes challenging his.
He gave her a hard look, but turned away towards The Count, swinging up into his own saddle, not objecting to her coming along. When he was in the saddle fully, he gave her a small, single nod of acknowledgement, and she gave one back.
John was saying goodbye to Abigail and Jack, Abigail actually looking proud of him rather than angry with him for the first time in a while.
"Shouldn't be long, Abigail... might not find anythin' anyhow, but... We gotta look."
Abigail hugged him, and then straightened up, her eyes looking suspiciously watery.
"You bring him back... And... you better come home in one piece, too... No wolves time, you hear me John?"
"Yes, ma'am. No wolves."
He got on his knee and took Jack by the shoulders, looking him in the eye.
"You gonna watch out for your Ma while I'm gone?"
Jack looked up at his mother, then back at his father, and nodded with all the solemnity a four year old could manage.
"Yes, sir... I'll watch out for mama."
John ruffled his son's hair, an intimate gesture that he didn't usually give.
"Good man. I'll be back soon."
He stood, and walked to the horses, joining the rest of them.
After Abigail and Jack went back to their tent, Micah came over, starting to fuss with Baylock’s saddle.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, Bell?” John asked, his grip on his reins tightening.
“What do you mean, Marston? I’m gettin’ ready to ride out.”
“The hell you are! You ain’t comin’ with us! Ain’t you caused enough trouble already?”
“Oh, quit complainin’ Marston. If it weren’t for me, y’all wouldn’t even have a lead on the O’Driscolls.”
“So? That don’t mean you got any right to come with us.”
“You think I’m gonna let you decide if I’m comin’ or stayin’? It ain’t up to you, it’s up to Dutch.”
“Micah,” Dutch interrupted with a sharp tone, “John’s right. You’re staying here. We don’t need any more problems.”
Micah looked at Dutch in anger and disbelief.
“What? Dutch, you can’t be serious-!”
“I am, Micah. You’re staying here.”
“You’ll let some broad ride out with you but not me? You ain’t thinkin’-”
“I know exactly what I’m thinking Micah, and what I’m thinking is that you are a liability, and this is none of your concern. Stay in camp.”
His words were final, and Micah knew that, so he sulked away back to the campfire, cursing under his breath.
“Alright, men!” Dutch shouted to the riding posse he’d formed. “Move out!”
the calm amidst all the chaos, sunny mornings in the april of 1883. some snippets from the daily life of the van der linde gang, back when they were younger, the sun was brighter and the bird songs sang a little louder over the valleys of the wild west
"How do you think it went?" Rogue slipped her heels off and glanced at Remy who was hanging up his coat.
"I'm sure they did fine, chére." Remy's grin was easy even though it had been the fourth or fifth time that night he'd quelled her fears. "You know how much she loves the old man. And Logan is twice as fond of her as she is of him." He looped his arm around her waist and drew her beside him. He kissed the space below her ear and spoke softly. " Come on now, let's see what they be up to"
Nothing could have prepared them for the sight that awaited them in the playroom.
Becca, perched on Logan's lap, was absolutely enthralled in the book he was reading aloud. Under the soft glow of the lamp Rogue could see the pair of them were absolutly covered, head to toe, in stickers, bandaids, and a smattering of glitter.
Remy sucked in a sharp breath at the sight and Rogue knew he was trying not to laugh.
Logan, mid sentence, glanced up at them and shot a glare in Remy’s direction. He had a heart shaped sticker on his cheek, Becca sported a matching one.
He turned the page and continued reading ignoring to two adults grinning at them.
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