A/N: This is my first time ever publishing a fic. These two were surprisingly hard to write for, as most of their chemistry wasn't seen until the epilogue of the game. I tried to capture their angst. Hope you all like it!
Ship: John Marston x Abigail Roberts/Marston
Requested by: @arthurrmorrgan
Prompt: "I can't see anything." "Hold on, I'll set something on fire."
“John Marston, if we get eaten by an alligator, I’ll kill you myself.”
The hiss came from Abigail Roberts, whose death grip on the arm of the man next to her tightened with each step. The desperate strength in her grasping fingers told him how much fear she was trying to hide. He snorted.
“How you gonna kill me if we’re both eaten?”
“You really think now is the time to be makin’ jokes? When we’re lost in a gator-filled swamp with no lantern and night almost on us?” John Marston’s nonchalance in the face of what were usually serious circumstances never failed to stoke her ire.
“This walk was your idea,” he reminded her. “I said I thought it would be better to go in the morning.”
“Well excuse me if I wanted to take a romantic walk with you at sunset,” she huffed. “And you also said you wouldn’t get us lost, you fool!”
“This is a new camp and we ain’t never been this far south before, woman. And it got a lot darker a lot quicker than I thought.” John peered up at the sky, which was threatening to turn pitch black within the hour. The thin sliver of moon would be squelched by the smoky clouds and canopy of twisting, gnarled branches in the Lemoyne swamp. The path back to Shady Belle would be near impossible to find.
Abigail huffed again, falling back into step beside him. The damp hem of her dress hit her ankles in rhythm--tap, tap, tap. They used what little light they had left to walk in the direction that they hoped was right. Within fifteen minutes, darkness had consumed them and they could go no further.
“What are we gonna do, John?” Abigail whispered. “I can’t see anything.”
Trying to think quickly, John patted himself down to see if he had any matches. He felt the outline of the box inside his vest. “Hold on, I’ll set something on fire.”
“What the hell is there to set on fire?”
“Just...hold on. I think I can make it to that tree we passed a bit ago. It looked withered, so I should be able to snap a branch or two off it.” As he made to leave, Abigail grasped for his arm. “Jesus, woman!” he hissed as her nails rasped across his forearm. “I’ve felt duller claws on a cat! What is it?”
“I...I just don’t think we should split up.” She tried for a rational tone, but the urgency of her words again betrayed her fear. Abigail had never liked the dark. It made her feel exposed and helpless.
John covered her hand with his. “Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of, Abigail. I’ll be right back.” He took a half step forward to kiss her, then hesitated. Things with them had been...edgy, lately. Ever since they’d gotten Jack back and moved in together, their dynamic had shifted into awkwardness. Both of them longed for one another, but neither knew quite how to say it. Or show it. Years of fighting had formed a callus that covered tenderness.
For John, it was because he knew there was no going back. This was it; his days of careless cavorting and drinking were through. Being the head of a family had tied a millstone around his neck--one he gladly bore, he just didn’t know how to handle it. He’d denied being a father and husband for so long. He had no idea how to be domestic, and he had to learn it with one hell of a woman to please.
As for Abigail, she was timid. It seemed like everything she’d wanted since Jack’s birth was finally in her grasp. Now, she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop like it always did, be it either John getting squirrely again or something going wrong with the gang. There’d been a simmering heat to things ever since Rhodes and Sean that was making everyone skittish.
John made the decision to follow through and managed to catch her cheek with his lips. Abigail startled at the sudden kiss, but soon felt her skin warm where his mouth had been. Damn that man who could make her blush with something as simple as a kiss on the cheek. Damn him for holding her heart hostage so long without actually wanting it until now. Damn him for making her so afraid yet so hopeful at the same time. While she was busy running all of these thoughts through her head, John slipped away to try and find the tree. There was no sound but the symphony of cicadas and bullfrogs. Instead of John kissing her cheek, now there was the thick and wet air.
Abigail waited for what felt like hours. Nervousness began to creep through her veins and the sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears. The nothingness choked her. “John?” Her voice came out as a harsh whisper, so she cleared her throat and tried again, louder. “John? You out there?” No answer but the crickets. “John! Where you at?”
Arms suddenly captured her waist. The whispered words were spoken straight into her ear, causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise and her gut to twist from adrenaline. Before she even realized what she was doing, a frightened shriek had left her mouth and cut through the still night air, followed closely by John bursting out laughing.
“John Marston!” she screamed. “You scared me half to death!” Despite being the butt of his joke, a giggle escaped her lips.
“That’s the idea, my dear.” The rich chuckle that encased his words made her shiver, her smile growing wider. She felt him release her from his arms, heard his matchbox rustling and the scrape of a match being lit. The small light gradually grew under John’s gentle breaths to tend the flame. Within a minute or two, they had a makeshift torch and seeing eyes and were on their way home.
John paused on the outskirts of camp. “I, uh. I just wanted to say sorry.”
Abigail’s brows furrowed. “Sorry for what?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never had a way with words, especially when it came to feelings. “Sorry that I… that I ignored you all them years. That I never was a good father to that boy. Hell… he knows Arthur better than he knows me.” John made himself wince at the sting of truth. “And I just… well, I just wanted to tell you that it won’t be that way no more. I’m here now. For the both of you. As long as you’ll have me. You’re makin’ me into a better man and you… you’re lightin’ my way. Like this torch.” He immediately felt his neck and ears burn hotter than the flame. That may have been the corniest thing he had ever said to another human being.
Abigail’s eyes softened in the firelight and before he knew what was happening, she had lunged up to press her mouth against his in a quick, gentle kiss. “Thank you, John. That means a lot to me.” A brief pause, then she giggled. “But that’s still the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard out of a gunslinger’s mouth.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare tell no one. Or else I’ll carry you back into that swamp and feed you to them gators.” Abigail laughed and John laced their hands together. They walked back into camp, arms gently swaying as the torch’s light burned in the night.
