Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’
Physical Sex: None Mentioned
Rating: T/Language
Warnings: Soulmate AU, language, apprehension, cuddling, implied nightmares, Reader is friends with Bill, mention of Bill crushing on Kieran
Summary: You can only sleep at the same time as your soulmate. Yours doesn’t seem to sleep very often.
They never fucking sleep.
Ever since you’ve had to share a sleep cycle you rarely get rest. You find yourself begging through the connection for them to just go the hell to sleep at least once every couple of days but they hardly ever do. Naturally you started scouring for insomniacs but you gave up on that a long time ago. If you ever meet your soulmate, you’ll kill them for keeping you awake so often. It’s useful at least. Being awake and on guard when running with a gang of outlaws has its perks. These past few months have been hard and sleep has been even rarer than normal. It’s always you that wills your soulmates to close their eyes but it never lasts more than an hour anymore. You used to at least get a full night here or there.
It’s been so long since you’ve felt the pull that you barely recognize it. Even Bill has lulled himself to sleep by now and you had been thinking about trying to will the same from your soulmate because it’s been five agonizing days. But the tug in your brain, right behind your eyes, hits you first. You waste no time in getting to your tent and lying down, hoping that this might be a full night since it’s them that pulled on the bond.
So you sleep, falling so easily that you don’t have much time to dwell on why they pulled. You don’t wake up until morning and it’s slow, peaceful, something you haven’t felt in a long time. Usually when you wake up it’s because your soulmate is startled and the bond rouses you both. This time it’s you that opens your eyes naturally. It almost feels strange and it makes you wonder just what your soulmate did to make themself sleep so well.
It’s not like you can ask them.
So you get up and go about your chores until there's a moment for a break by the fire with Bill. He already has a beer in his hand and doesn’t seem to be planning on doing any work today.
“Morning, Bill.” You mutter as you sit.
“Mornin’...” He looks around for a moment. “You hear about what happened last night?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Something happened?”
Bill chuckles. “Apparently, Javier and Micah was drinkin’ and the rat bastard fell asleep… I ain’t never seen ‘em sleep but he were all curled up on the table like a baby.”
You think about it for a moment. You never have seen Micah sleep, but it sounds like it was quite a sight. The tough asshole all cozied up and… Micah slept?
“Did he sleep all night?” You ask.
Bill nods. “Arthur saw ‘em last night and I saw ‘em this mornin’... ya shoula seen it!” He laughs. “Arthur mighta got a picture, something ta use against the bastard when he’s being smart later.”
You feel a little panic shoot through you. “Did you see him up, uh, before me or-”
“Hold on a damn minute…” Bill laughs. “Ya don’t think-”
“I don’t know!” You snap. “I’m a little freaked out at the possibility.”
“You and Micah…” Bill snickers. “Wouldn’t that be all sweet, you gettin’ cozy with the camp snake!”
“Shut up, Williamson.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “I ain’t seen him up an’ about ‘till you was coming outta yer tent…”
“Shit…” You mutter.
He shrugs. “Probably just a coincidence, boy… least ya better hope it is!”
Bill bursts out laughing again and you plot his death until Javier hits him for being too loud while he’s trying to rest through his hangover. Across camp you can see Micah rubbing his eyes as he pauses his gun cleaning.
You hesitate for a moment before you speak. “Do me a favor, will you, Bill?”
He leans forward. “Ya want me ta spy on yer little soulmate, don’t ya?”
“I’d do the same for you, asshole.” You huff. “Just tell if we’re sleeping at the same time.”
Bill taps his finger on his bottle. “You’d do the same fer me?”
“Sure, Bill.”
“Keep an eye on the O’Driscoll then…”
You shake your head. “I’ve seen you sleep when he’s not… sorry.”
Bill mutters something to himself. “Fine… I’ll watch the bastard.”
“Thank you.” You sigh. “I’m sorry about the O’Driscoll an-”
“Don’t talk about it, boy.”
You raise your hands. “Fine, fine…”
Bill drinks for most of the day, but he does watch Micah and you. There’s a moment when he thinks Micah nods off against a tree, but he’s still awake when he gets closer to check. He doesn’t see anything for a while just because Micah doesn’t ever sleep. It doesn’t come until almost a week later when he sees Micah sitting by the fire with his head propped up by his hand, asleep. When he looks in your tent, you are too. He’s half drunk but he has the sense to test things. He makes sure he can see Micah from where he stands as he nudges your foot.
When you groan in annoyance, Micah jerks awake.
“Shit!” He laughs. “Ya ain’t gonna like this, boy.”
You look up at him from your bedroll and follow his eyes to the campfire where Micah stretches his neck slightly.
“Oh, you’re not serious?”
He chuckles. “Yer stuck with ‘em.”
You let your head fall back against your bedroll as you try to process the information. You hear Bill’s footsteps recede as he laughs to himself. It takes a lot to make yourself stand and you almost stop yourself several times on your way to the fire. But you make it and Micah greets you in a bored tone.
Just to see what it looks like, you will tiredness into your bond. Micah looks like he twitches, his head moving suddenly, and he sniffs. It’s hard to deny that.
“Micah?”
He hums.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?”
“What’s it to ya, cowpoke?”
You sigh. “Just wondering if it’s you or your bond.”
He looks at you from under his hat. “The hell ya care about bonds for?”
“My soulmates doesn’t ever fucking sleep.” You sigh. “And… neither do you.”
He chuckles. “You comin’ on ta me, cowboy?”
“You woke up a few minutes ago because Bill kicked me and woke me up.”
“Very funny…” Micah drawls.
You huff. “I’m serious, Micah.”
He sits up straight and sighs. “You’ve had yer fun, cowpoke. Real clever.”
“When you do sleep it’s not for very long and you wake up suddenly.” You lick your lips. “Come sleep and you’ll see.”
He looks at you with uncertainty. “Yer invitin’ me…”
“We don’t have to touch each other, Micah. Just come lie down and we’ll feel the bond.” You sigh. “As much as we might want to ignore it…”
Micah clears his throat, hiding his face with his hat as he thinks. “Fine, cowpoke.”
You stand and walk to your tent, Micah trailing behind you. He hesitates to lie down next to you, but he does. He removes his hat and lies on his back, leaving a few inches between your arms. Very lightly, you feel that tug behind your eyes.
“You… Ya feel that?” Micah asks.
You will the bond in return. “Did you?”
Micah’s breath catches and he sits up quickly, rubbing his eyes. You stare at the roof of your tent, processing the undeniable knowledge that you’re stuck with Micah Bell.
“‘m sorry.” He mumbles. “Fer keepin’ ya awake.”
You can’t help but smile. “Are you apologizing? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize.”
“Shut it.” He snaps.
You sigh. “Why don’t you sleep, Micah?”
There’s a click and you can see Micah removing his gunbelt and setting it aside. He lays back down, staring up at the tent. You watch him intently, a new light shining on him now that you know what he’s supposed to be.
You can feel him tugging at the bond and you let your eyes close. You’re asleep rather quickly and it feels a little like it did a week ago when Micah passed out drunk. It’s smooth, but this time it doesn’t last. You wake with the same usual start, but this time you can actually look at your soulmate and see what happened. Micah lies still on his back, his arm draped over his eyes as he takes deep breaths.
“You alright, Micah?”
“‘m fine.” He mutters.
You don’t like seeing him like this. He’s unsettled and it hurts you a little bit. So, very slowly, you scoot closer and put your arm around his torso. He tenses for a moment before he shuffles to lay on his side and lets you hold him against your chest. You don’t speak, you just feel that tug behind your eyes again. This time you don’t wake up, both of you sleep soundly now that you’ve found each other.
You grip Micah's hair and pull him away from your neck.
"Hey Moron, Keep it down or they'll fucking hear us," You snarl quietly.
You were certain most of the gang was drunk. It's not often Dutch announces a party, so when he does, nearly everyone takes the opportunity to drink heavily. But you weren't going to take any chances. Any one of those drunk fools could hear the sounds coming from your shared tent with Micah and stumble in on the two of you.
Micah growls low in his throat, frustration coursing through him as he struggles to contain his desires. His hold on you tightens slightly before loosening again. Despite his attempts, however, he finds it hard not to push boundaries even further. He leans in close once more, lips brushing against yours needily.
"Can't...help..." he whispers hotly against your skin as you smell the booze in his breath. "It's driving me fucking crazy." His hands wander lower down your body, grazing lightly across your stomach and hips.
You roll your eyes and clamp your hand over his mouth to shush him. Micah makes a noise akin to a puppy having his toy taken away. You ignore his whimper and strain your ears to see if anyone is near the tent. There is the faint sound of Dutch's gramophone but no footsteps. Good. You're both in the clear....for now.
Sitting on the ground of the tent, Micah pants heavily as his gaze wanders over your body. He licks his lips subconsciously, unable to tear his eyes away from you for too long. There's something primal about the way he looks at you like he wants nothing more than to claim you as his own.
Slowly, cautiously, he reaches for your hand and laces his fingers through yours. The touch sends shivers down your spine. His thumb rubs softly against the skin of your palm in what seems like an apology for his being loud.
"Think I had too much to drink," he mutters, trying (and failing) to sound casual.
"Well, we both did," you remind him before you pull him in for a deep kiss.
As soon as your kiss turns passionate, Micah loses all sense of reason and control. With fervor fueled by alcohol and desire, he responds in kind, his tongue dancing eagerly against yours. His hands find themselves gripping the fabric of your top, tugging it upwards to expose more skin.
The feel of his warm hands on your bare flesh sends pulses of heat through your veins. You break off the kiss momentarily to pull your shirt over your head. Simultaneously, Micah begins to undo his belt buckle and yank his pants down along with his underwear.
In one swift motion, you slip out of your undergarments and straddle him, feeling his erection pressing against your core. You and Micah make out for a while until you push him to make the first move.
"Don't tell me you need help putting it in, old man?" You tease as you pull away to look down at him.
Micah groans deeply, losing some of his swagger in the face of your advance. He lets out a hoarse laugh, wrapping his arms around you tightly.
"Old man? Fuck you." But despite his bravado, his words lack conviction. Instead, he meets your gaze with a mix of drunk lust and vulnerability that almost makes you hesitate. Almost.
You laugh at his reaction. Micah glares at you and huffs. As your laugh dies down you lift yourself up a bit and grab a hold of Micah's cock. You slap it against your entrance a couple of times as you lock eyes with him. You then press his cock head right into your hole.
Slowly, you sink down onto him, taking him inside you inch by excruciatingly delicious inch. Gritting your teeth against the sensation, you arch your back and down up at Micah expectantly.
He watches intently as you adjust to his size, his expression a mixture of awe and desire. After several moments, when he's certain that you've taken all of him, he leans in and captures your lips once more.
Micah begins to thrust up into you, his movements slow and uncoordinated due to the alcohol. Yet somehow, it adds to the intensity of the moment rather than detracting from it. Every time he slams into you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you can't help but let out a moan.
Groaning loudly, he grips your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him with each thrust. "Fuck yeah...take it," he murmurs against your neck. "Tell me how much you want it."
You moan loudly, but can't help but cringe at how much noise you're making. You clamp down on Micah's shoulders and whisper harshly in his ear, "For fuck's sake, keep it down! Someone might hear us."
But his groans and grunts continue to echo throughout the tent regardless. It feels like all the walls are closing in on you, amplifying every sound.
Micah growls in response to your plea for silence, the alcohol fueling his boldness. He picks up speed, slamming into you with reckless abandon. Each thrust causes your body to jolt against his.
"Make all the goddamn noise you want," he grunts roughly. "Show them what they're missing." His voice is rough with arousal, and he continues to pound into you relentlessly.
Micah maintains an impressive pace, his thrusts growing deeper and harder with each passing second. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the air as he takes you without mercy.
As sweat begins to trickle down your forehead, you glance up at him nervously. He catches your eye and gives you a wicked smile. "Get ready," he growls, his voice thick with anticipation. "I'm going to fill you up so fucking good."
Your heart races as he begins to pick up speed even more, slamming into you harder than ever before. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside you repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure shooting throughout your entire body.
It's not before long you cum. Your body is on fire as pulses of heat wash over your core. Your whole body tenses, especially clamping down on Micah's cock, which causes him to cum too.
With one final powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, filling you up completely as he pumps cum into your body. You whimper as you feel his cock twitch with every splurge of cum.
A hoarse groan escapes his lips as he holds himself as deep as he can go, his body trembling from the exertion. For what feels like an eternity, the two of you remain locked together, panting heavily as their combined weight forces the air out of your lungs.
Finally, Micah withdraws slowly, his cock slipping out of you with a wet, sucking sound. You collapse onto the ratman, spent and satisfied in equal measure. Slowly regaining consciousness, you meet his gaze, the intense connection between you palpable even in the dim light of the tent.
"In any narrative, a foil is a character who contrasts with another character, typically, a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist. A foil to the protagonist may also be the antagonist of the plot" (Foils, Wikipedia).
We hate one, we love the other. We love to hate the former. Micah Bell was written blatantly as an opposing force to our beloved big boy. What makes him an interesting narrative device is not only the differences between Micah and Arthur, but rather their similarities. A foil must be opposing in personality as well as role in the story, but not necessarily in their background as a character. In fact, this is a tactic to make a more heavy handed moral message within the plot.
What we know of Micah's life prior to joining the gang comes in sparse snippets, blink and you miss it details that only fanfiction writers have committed to memory (guilty). We know he grew up alongside his brother Amos, who assumedly is younger considering traditionally only the oldest son is named after a father and grandfather. We know they have likely always had a strained relationship because of their differences, and that at some point there was a falling out between them. Considering his father brought a 17 year old Micah along on a bonding murder trip, it's fair to say his childhood environment was less than ideal.
Arthur was raised in a similar environment, with an abusive outlaw father and a lack of proper guidance in life. He, too, has a younger brother with whom he shares a strained relationship. The difference is that Arthur has always rejected the violence that is present around him. Micah does not see his father as abusive, instead sounding almost reverent in his recollection of childhood. Their nurture was similar but their nature is vastly different. Arthur has love in his life. He has friendships, familial relationships and he chooses to participate in these. Micah intentionally severs any possible friendships, keeping others at arm's length and insisting he is content with that. They are both clearly deeply insecure men, though the key aspects of their personalities show in how they manage their insecurities.
Micah makes his problems everyone else's problems, where Arthur is shown to be helpful and kind, not wanting to burden others with his own shortcomings. He enjoys his friendships, is fair and friendly toward the women in camp, abhors the common sentiments of racism at the time. Some of this can be attributed to Dutch's influence, but I think it's more to do with Arthur's inherent personality.
It is Micah's antagonistic interactions that help players to better understand Arthur. That contrast is necessary. It outlines a core theme of the game: we are only as good as we try to be.
While out scouting for new leads, Micah stumbles across a woman he hasn't seen in several years. Along with that, a surprise he never saw coming.
The air was hot and stuffy down here in Lemoyne. It was to the point that Micah Bell needed the cold relief of the mountains once again, and he never thought he would be saying that after Colter.
However, he did admit that he likes that kind of weather.
Baylock's hooves kicked up dust as he trotted along the less than traveled path out of Valentine. Micah left with little to no word to the gang. Not that anyone cared mind you. However, Dutch likes to keep tabs on his boys, so at least Micah had the decency to tell the boss that he's going to look for leads and won't be back for a while.
Besides, if he brings back something big, then perhaps the others will finally stop complaining about him.
Micah was lost in thought with a smirk on his face as his stallion's clip went from a trot to a gallop in the blink of an eye, kicking up his legs as he went. The outlaw didn't even seem to read his horse's distressed movements until his face was getting smacked by branches. Baylock had run off the track and into the woods.
"Hey! Slow it down!" Micah commanded the steed as he yanked on the reins. However, Baylock was just as stubborn and resistant as his rider. When Micah tried to force him to slow, the stallion bucked him off.
"You good for nothing-!" Micah shouted as the horse took off, cutting himself off as he realized the insult was meaningless. He stood up and dusted himself off, looking around for the cause of Baylock's panic.
However, it was oddly silent except for the occasional wind ruffling the leaves. It made him uneasy for some reason. Micah tried to whistle and get Baylock back to him, but the damn horse paid him no mind.
Grumbling to himself, Micah began to trek through the woods in hope of finding his horse (or the path).
But it didn't take him long to find something. And that something was certainly not Baylock.
At the edge of a small clearing, pine trees were clustered. Wildflowers were speckled throughout the grass along with some large rocks. However, his eyes found a black blur that was bawling near the top of one of the pines, which he now deduced was the reason Baylock freaked out. It was a black bear, probably one that has just been weaned by its mother. The whole world was still so new to it.
Which is probably why it was scared into the tree by a boy who wasn't much older than Jack.
The child was by himself and seated crisscross on the ground below the tree. He wasn't doing anything to harm or harass the bear, but he was continuously watching it. Now Micah would never say he was concerned or worried about the lives of others, but he did find it a little disturbing that the boy seemed to be alone. But he was curious of the situation, so approach the boy he did.
The bear began to bawl even louder when Micah came closer. This caused the attention of the little boy to be shifted. The older man inspected the child, who stared back at him with a same curious expression. He had to be around six or seven with blonde hair and big blue eyes, and there was something familiar about the way he looked. Micah was getting nostalgic, like he's seen that face before.
"Hey kid, what are you doing out here by yourself?" Curiosity got the better of Micah. The boy turned his attention back to the bear in the tree, who was paying close attention to him as well.
"Looking at the animals." He responded simply and without much fear.
"Why?" The older blonde couldn't stop himself.
"I like the woods." It was a simple response and one that was so child-like, but Micah couldn't stop the scoffing. He thought that it was ridiculous.
"Where's your parents?" Micah asked while crossing his arms, eyeing the bear up in the tree.
"My mama is close by." The boy said while holding Micah's gaze. It was as if he was threatening the outlaw to dare lay a finger on him. Just from that confidence alone, it made Micah more curious. Normally, he would leave the child to the wolves. However, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his gut.
The bear bawled again.
"Get up. I'm takin' you home to your mother." Micah said while gesturing the boy to get to his feet.
"But I'm fine." The child protested in a whining manner, almost seeming fearful to follow the stranger. However, he got to his feet regardless.
"Too bad. See that bear?" Micah gestured back towards the nervous black bear and the boy's eyes followed: "That ain't no adult black bear. That's a baby cryin' for his mother. Now, let's get out of here before we become dinner."
Micah practically shooed the kid away from the tree, hoping his little lie would go unnoticed by the rather smart kid. That black bear was perfectly grown with no mother around for miles. The boy would've been fine to stay there. However, the sun was nearly setting, and Micah still found no lead. Perhaps he could get some money in return for bringing the boy home safely.
That, or he could just rob the house and deal with the mother himself.
It made him smirk.
"Nearly there." The boy said, drawing Micah's attention back to reality. And true to his word, a couple more steps revealed a rough-looking cabin. A black arabian mare was grazing nearby and, much to Micah's surprise, Baylock was grazing next to her. Again, there was something about that mare that struck a familiar chord in him.
"Mama! Someone is here!" The blonde boy cried as he ran away from Micah. The older man followed behind the child as he ran back and behind the house, where Micah could see the ends of some laundry blowing in the wind as they dried. However, when he rounded the corner, a familiar face made his heart stop.
"It's you..."
"It's...you?"
The tone in his voice was so questioning because he honestly couldn't recognize you, not with that boy hugging you from around your waist.
You were a woman he hooked up with several times several years ago. Back then, he was attracted to you due to your rough nature. You weren't afraid to stand up to him and Micah liked that. It got him all riled up, and you didn't hesitate to give him what he wanted. However, Micah didn't have any feelings for you, and he thought you had none for him. So leaving wasn't exactly a problem in his mind. He would never see you again, or so he thought.
But here you are, and with a child no less. Your hair was still the same h/c as it's always been, cascading down your back. You still liked to wear a plaid top with your dress, and your eyes still held a defiant look towards him.
"So...it seems you moved on from me. Where's the husband?" Micah said nonchalantly and quite rudely, gesturing towards the child with a flick on his hand.
"I never married." You told him sternly. Your son held onto you tighter, sensing tension.
"Then where's the boy's father?" Micah nearly growled, but you knew him. It was not an emotional thing. You knew he just couldn't stand the thought of you sleeping with another man. As far as he was concerned, you belonged to him.
"Go inside baby." You told your son as you kissed his forehead.
He nodded and moved towards the back door, holding eye contact with Micah. For some reason, it made the older man feel a bit sick, those blue eyes looking into his own. But it soon passed, and he paid attention back to you, looking gruff.
"So? What happened with the boy?" He cut to the chase, and you folded his arms.
"Micah." You said.
"What?" The blonde said in response and you shook your head.
"My son...his name is Micah." You told him softly yet strongly. The older Micah narrowed his eyes at you, but he was silent. You knew he was trying to process this whole thing. But you weren't done.
"Named after his daddy."
Silence.
The only sound was the wind blowing through the woods and the trees rustling in kind. However, even that soon gave way to silence as if the forest itself was nervous for the reaction. Micah's eyes were just staring into yours, making you a bit uneasy as he gave no hint as to how he was feeling.
But instead of anger like you were expecting, he looked like was going to be sick.
"Hell...are you really saying...?" Micah's voice was weak. It was like nothing you ever heard before. He looked so vulnerable. And when you nodded, it amplified.
"I was told many years ago that it was Bell tradition to name the firstborn son after their father." You said, and this time, his hand went to cover his mouth as if he was actually going to throw up. He felt so sick at this knowledge for so many reasons.
You had his kid.
He didn't know about it for years.
You named it after him. You named your son after him...despite him leaving you pregnant and alone.
"I-I...Why didn't you ever say anything?" Micah said after composing himself, weird feelings swirling in his chest. You scoffed.
"I didn't even think you were still alive. Besides, you wouldn't have cared." You stated with a nonchalant wave of your hand, which caused anger to burn inside him.
"If I knew you were pregnant, I wouldn't have gone anywhere!" He shouted and you winced a bit. Perhaps it was wrong of you to assume, but you knew Micah was not one to form emotional attachments, claiming that they were for the weak. So why should you assume that he would care about a baby? Care about you?
"I mean, you never said anything to me." You said in a general tone, hugging yourself. He knew what you meant. Micah never once showed that he loved you for who you were; just for what you could give. But to be fair, you never showed it to him either. Both of you were there for benefits, and this was the result of that.
"You never said anything either." He retorted in typical Micah fashion. Your eyes drifted towards the ground.
"...I didn't know how to tell a person like you that I loved..." Your voice drifted off as you found his eyes, which appeared softer than you've ever seen.
"You loved me?" He asked, sounding more confused than his typical mocking tone. You nodded.
"I still might." You admitted.
Micah honestly didn't know how to feel about that. If that wasn't his son, he probably wouldn't give much of a damn. However, somehow knowing that you are the mother of his kid gave him a butterfly-like feeling in his chest whenever he looked at you. You were still beautiful and now it made him feel all fuzzy inside. It scared him a little.
"Um...think I could stay the night?" He hated how high-pitched and scared-sounding his voice was, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, nearly knocking his hat off in the process.
You let out an airy laugh, which made his chest tighten more.
"Of course." You said, knowing that it was hard for him to talk about how he was feeling. However, you knew Micah well enough to read his body language, and everything was telling you what he was feeling. It was so foreign to him and that's what was scary. You had to be patient.
"Just don't steal anything." You warned in that confident tone that he didn't realized he missed until right now.
"Yes ma'am." He teased back, feeling more like his old self now that all the mushy stuff was out of the way.
You were quick to start to move towards the front of the house as the sun had long since passed, shoulder gently brushing against his as you did so. He breathed in deeply, taking in your sweet scent of roses and juniper that you always seemed to carry around. Micah didn't even realize how close he was following behind until he nearly bumped into you.
"Where's..." Your tone drifted off as you couldn't see your son inside once you opened the door.
"Micah IV." He finished for you with a smirk, causing you to blush.
"I'll find him. Couldn't have gone far." Micah promised before you started to panic. You hesitated a bit before nodding, anxiety rising in your chest. However, you just had to trust this man, which to anyone else, would be absolutely terrifying. You went inside as Micah turned away from the cabin to scan around outside.
Sure enough, he found the little blonde boy near the horses. In fact, he was petting Baylock.
"Hi again mister...is this your horse?" The boy asked as the stallion continued to nudge for attention. Micah nodded.
"You like him?" He asked and a small smile formed on the child's face as he nodded. Micah knew that you would probably be pissed, but he couldn't resist.
"You wanna go for a ride?" Micah asked the boy with a grin. With a smirk that mirrored his own, his son nodded.
Riding through the forest was exhilarating, even more so with his son sitting in front of him. The laughter, the whipping of blonde hair, and the carefree spirit made him feel pride. Soon, they were making their back before you had a heart attack.
"So mister...what's your name?" He asked as he stroked Baylock's mane.
"Micah." The older man said without hesitation.
"Just like me!" The boy said with glee, balling up his little fists with excitement. It made Micah's heart twist a little because the boy still had to know that he was sharing a saddle with his father. But how can you explain that to a child?
"You know, in my family, all the oldest sons are named Micah, after our father." Micah explained and the boy tilted his head a bit. The older blonde looked down at the younger one, who was not connecting the dots very well.
"Micah...what ever happened to your father?" The older outlaw asked the small boy sitting in front of him. For a second, it was just the sound of Baylock's hooves against the ground. The boy looked down and replied in a small tone.
"Mama always told me that papa was always busy which is why he never comes home." He explained, sounding a little downtrodden. Older Micah gripped the reins tightly. Time for an explanation.
"Well...he's home now."
You didn't know what took them so long or what happened while the boys were gone. All you saw was Micah coming in through the door while carrying your son on his hip, who was holding onto him for dear life, fists gripping his leather jacket tightly as he bawled into the crook of the older man's neck. When you asked what happened, you only got a muffled response from the boy.
I think this is when he beats up Arthur or kills him - depending on the ending. I can’t think of when else this would happen. Actually thought this was Bill’s laugh at first.
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